We walked through and I immediately spotted Gran leaning over the stove, her graying brown hair pinned tightly back in a bun. Gramps sat at the round dinner table, reading the newspaper. He looked up when he heard our footsteps, his glasses resting on the tip of his nose like always.
“Oh, Ma, they’re here!” Gramps sounded excited. He rose from his chair and walked straight toward Cassie with open arms.
“You must be Cassie. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” He squeezed her hard against his chest.
I laughed as I headed over to Gran. “Gran, this is my girl, Cassie.”
Gran wiped her hands on her apron as Cassie grinned and pulled herself from Gramps’ hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Cassie. We’ve heard so much about you.” Her eyes crinkled in the corners as she grinned, a hint of dimples like mine appearing on her creased cheeks.
“It’s so nice to meet you both. Thanks for having me,” Cassie replied with a warm smile. “Can I help?” She directed the question toward Gran.
“Oh heavens no, dear. I’m almost finished. Go sit down and make yourself comfortable. Jack, you get her whatever she needs, you hear me?” Gran’s voice took on the tone she only used with Dean and me.
“Yes, Gran, of course.” I leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Do you need anything, Kitten?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Gramps pulled out the empty chair next to him and patted it. “Come sit down next to me, Cassie. Or do I get to call you Kitten too?” he asked with a wink.
Dean laughed out loud. “I think we should all start calling her Kitten.”
I shot Dean a murderous look, not at all amused. “Only I get to call her Kitten. You’d be wise to remember that.”
“Jack, stop threatening your brother,” Gran remarked while waving the steam away from her face.
“Yes, Gran.” I gave Dean a hard kick under the table.
Gramps leaned on his elbow and tilted his head. “So, Cassie, Jack tells us that you’re a photographer.”
She glanced at me, grinning before looking back at Gramps. “Well, that’s what I’m studying right now. I’d like to start my own business as soon as I graduate.”
Gramps slapped his hand against the table. “Well, that’s just great! Isn’t that great, dear?”
“That is great. What kind of photography?” Gran asked.
“Ideally, I’d like to work for a magazine that focuses on travel and human interest stories. I’d get to travel around the country and meet all sorts of incredible people with amazing stories.” Cassie started to explain slowly and loud enough for everyone to hear. It didn’t escape me the way her green eyes lit up when she talked about her craft.
“Ooooh, that sounds exciting.” Gran squeezed her shoulders up to her ears.
“Now, what would you do for them? What kind of pictures would you take?” Gramps asked as he reached for his glass of water.
“I think I’d either get assigned with the journalist writing the piece, or I’d go by myself to shoot whatever the focus of the article was about. It could be anything from a new hotel opening and its impact on a struggling city, to a town’s comeback after almost being destroyed in a natural disaster. But the overall theme is positive and uplifting.”
She paused before looking at me, her eyes wide. “There’s an internship that I’m going to apply for this summer. Apparently one of the New York-based magazines has an LA office and my professor mentioned it to me today. He said he’d write me a letter of recommendation, so you never know.”
I gave her a big smile. “Can’t win if you don’t play, Kitten. They’d be idiots not to hire you.”
“Thanks, baby.”
“You should see her stuff, Gramps. She’s really good,” I added, pride shooting through my body.
“She is,” Dean agreed. “But I have a question. The stuff you take pictures of is so creative. I mean, your angles and what you put in your shots… Gramps, she has this one picture of Jack on the mound. You can’t see his whole body or even his face. It’s the coolest shot! Will you get to take pictures like that for a magazine?”
“First of all, thank you. It’s sweet of you to say that about my photos and I appreciate it.” Cassie smiled. “I guess it totally depends on the magazine and their style. But the ones I’d love to work for have very beautifully creative photos and I think they give the photographer a lot of control with their shots.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“That sounds perfect for you. Your photography is way too beautiful to be defined by someone else’s standards. If it doesn’t work out, you can always go into sports photography and follow your boyfriend around the country,” I suggested helpfully.
“So, I’d just wake up and take pictures of you all day?”
I let out a slight chuckle. “Sounds like a dream job to me.”
“Oh, Lord.” Gran sighed. “Forgive me, Cassie, I did the best I could with him.”
She laughed. “It’s okay, Gran, he’s perfect just the way he is.” Her eyes wandered back to mine as her lips curved in a slight smile.
“Jack, Dean, come help me serve, will you?” Gran asked.
Dean and I jumped up from the table and returned carrying steaming dishes filled with Italian food. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with garlic tomatoes filtered into the air and my mouth started to salivate.
“Dig in, please. Cassie first,” Gramps insisted.
Cassie reached for the bowl of spaghetti and dished out a huge helping before grabbing two piping hot pieces of fresh bread and tossing them onto her plate. Her eyes widened once she added salad, and I gently placed my hand on her upper thigh and squeezed.
“Get enough, Kitten?” I teased.
“I think I got excited in my serving sizes,” she admitted, the hue of embarrassment rising in her cheeks.
“Don’t worry about it. Just eat what you can.”
“This all looks incredible, Gran. Thank you so much,” she said sincerely, before digging in.
“You’re welcome, dear. Thank you for coming.”
“Now, Jack, we need to talk about the draft,” Gramps mentioned between sloppy, sauce-filled bites.
“What about it?”
“Well, for starters, who all will be here on draft day besides the reporters from that TV channel?” Gramps swirled some spaghetti around his fork.
Cassie looked at me, clearly interested in the conversation we’d yet to have. I swallowed my food before speaking. “You and Gran, of course. Dean, you’ll be here, right?”
Dean nodded and I turned to face Cassie. “And Cass, I’d like you here too.”
“Wait. Here for what? I’m sort of lost right now.”
“The major league draft. They think I’ll go within the first couple of rounds so it will be televised on ESPN.”
“Really?” she asked with surprise.
“Really.” I mimicked her tone and she glared at me.
“That’s crazy.”
“You’ll come though, right?” I reached under the table again and connected with her thigh, moving her dress up slightly with my fingertips.
“Of course I’ll…come,” she sputtered before swatting my hand away.
“Great. So, Gramps, it’s you and Gran. Dean and Kitten. And of course, my agents, Marc and Ryan.”
“You have agents already?” Her face scrunched up as she winced noticeably.
“Not officially. I can’t sign with them until I get drafted, but we have a verbal agreement.”
“And how many do you have? Don’t most people only have one?”
“One’s an agent and the other’s a lawyer. But they work together and it stops me having to hire a lawyer separately,” I explained.
“Oh. We really need to talk more about all this baseball stuff. I feel like I don’t know anything that’s happening.” She bit her bottom lip and I saw the unease on her face; she looked so overwhelmed. I’d do anything to take that feeling away from her. I didn’t just want her by my side through this process, I needed her there.
“Sorry, Kitten, we’ve had other stuff going on. And this is all pretty recent. I was going to tell you about it.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I’m really excited for you, but the whole TV thing is a little overwhelming.”
“It only happens if you’re getting drafted really high. They don’t send camera crews to everyone’s house,” Dean said, and I couldn’t read her expression any longer, her face blank.
“Oh. When is it, anyway?”
“The first Monday in June,” Dean answered before I had the chance.
“And then when do you leave?” Cassie asked softly, her green eyes searching mine for answers I didn’t have yet.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think right after,” I answered, my chest suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.
“Like that day?” she asked, as her eyes started to get that shiny look.
“No. But within a week, I think.” Her face twisted at my words.
She was upset. Of course she was upset. I hadn’t told her any of this and now it was all being sprung on her without any warning. I could be such an idiot sometimes.
“So what’s the plan, Jack? What do your agents think is going to happen?” Gran asked from across the table.
“They think I’ll go within the first round and that should come with a solid signing bonus. If we like the deal, then we accept it and I’ll have to move to wherever their Single-A farm team is.”
“What’s a signing bonus?” Cassie asked, her forehead creasing.
“A signing bonus is exactly what it sounds like. It’s money used as an incentive to get the player to sign with the team instead of returning to school for another year. The minor league pay scale is barely enough to live off of each month. That’s why the signing bonus is so important. But not every player gets it.” I tried to clarify without confusing her.
“So not everyone gets a signing bonus, but you will because you’ll get drafted in the first round?” she asked, her voice stumbling a bit.
“Exactly.”
“How many rounds are there?”
“In the draft? About forty.”
“Holy shit, and they think you’ll go in the first?” Her eyes widened as I stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said before clasping her hand over her mouth, her face embarrassed.
“We’ve heard far worse,” Gramps said with a laugh.
“What happens to those guys who don’t get a signing bonus?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said they can barely live off of the money they make without a bonus.”
“No one plays this game for the money, Kitten. We play it because we love it so much that the thought of being without it causes unbearable pain. It’s a game that one day ends for every single person who plays it, but we all want to put off that ending as long as possible.” I took a quick breath. “When you only dream of doing one thing for the majority of your life, it’s almost unfathomable to think about doing anything else. You don’t know how. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and you’ll not only fight like hell to get there, you’ll fight like hell to stay.”
