All Was Golden in the Sky

“Batter up!”

Travis leaned forward, shaking his butt wildly. “Give me your best Annie!” he sneered, swaying the bat behind his back. His bare feet dug into the grass of my parent’s back yard and his swim trunks still were dripping water.

I leaned back and chomped down on my gum, pretending to be like those pitchers who chew on chewing tobacco while they’re playing. Shaking my head to the nonexistent catcher I smirked when he groaned. “Hurry up, would’ja?”

Wham! The hair on his head flew in the wind of my throw. He barely had time to blink.

“Strike one!” Dad called from the porch, whooping and holding up a finger. Travis pounded the bat’s head into the ground and stomped his foot, cursing under his breath. He slid back into position, but with slightly less emphasis on the butt wiggling.

Whoosh, whoosh. Three strikes. The jerk may know how to convince others to throw loved ones into freezing water, but his own reflexes sucked serious ass.

“Whatever,” he huffed, tossing the bat onto the ground and crossing his arms. “This game is fixed.” I rolled my eyes and tossed the ball to my dad as we switched positions, with him being the pitcher and I sitting next to Brendon.

Brendon smiled at me and pulled me into his lap, one arm wrapped around my waist as the other played with the stray hairs at the back of my neck. “You’ve got a strong arm babe,” he whispered. “Maybe next time we play with the guys you can be our pitcher.”

I smiled and turned my head back to look at him. “Last time I played with you guys Ryan wept because he got dirt in his eyes and blamed it on me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Anne, you slid into first base and kicked the dirt up into his eyes. You didn’t even have to slide.”

“I would’ve gotten out!”

“You hit a home run!”

“Hey Brendon!” my dad called, interrupting our laughter. “You’re up!” Brendon tensed and I grinned, giving him a big kiss on the cheek and hopping up.

“On ya go!” I smiled, pulling him up and pushing him towards the homemade field. His feet moved him unwillingly to where Aubrey stood with the bat for him. I smirked when he knelt into his pose, staring at my dad and awaiting his pitch.

My dad smiled, glancing over at me once before quickly firing his arm forward and releasing the ball. It cut through the air and slammed into the shed, cracking through the silence.

“Holy shit!” Brendon screamed, jumping out of the way and breathing heavily. My aunts all released peals of laughter and my dad raised his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? That had to be like eighty miles an hour!” Brendon cried.

Aubrey tossed the ball back to Dad and he caught it with ease, throwing it up and down into his palm. “Strike one,” he said calmly, and leaned back for his next throw. Brendon was a little faster in reacting this time and the tip of the bat touched the ball, hitting it into play enough for him to make it to second base. Everyone cheered and laughed at his over exaggerated run.

“Annie! You’re up!” Travis called. I laughed as everyone “Wooooooah!”ed as I strutted out onto the field, picking up the bat and tapping the heels of my bare feet with it. I hoisted it over my shoulder and wiggled my butt like Travis had earlier; my family laughed, Brendon glared.

“Alright old man,” I called out, “give me your best!” Dad grinned at the jest and pretended to disagree with the catcher, eventually nodding his head and holding the ball behind his back. I grinned back, bending over more to maintain my balance.

His arm shot forward and the ball flew towards me. I quickly brought the bat forward and rejoiced when I heard the satisfactory crack as it bounced off. However, that joy instantly evaporated when the sound was replaced by a pained grunt and the image of my boyfriend keeling over in distress.

“Shit!” I yelled, dropping the bat and rushing over to where he now kneeled on the ground, his hands over his crotch. Dear God, I thought, I’ve just made it impossible for the love of my life to procreate. “Brendon, I’m so sorry! Sweetie, are you okay?”

He looked up at me, his cheeks red and eyes watery, and whimpered. A sharp pain collided in my shoulder and I glared up at Travis, towering over me with the ball in his fist. “You’re out,” he smirked.
--
“Here baby,” I said quietly later that night, slipping into my room. I sat down on my bed and wrapped the ice bag in a washcloth and handed it to Brendon, wincing as he whipped it out of my hold and pressed it firmly to his groin with another pained whimper. Everyone had left a while ago, still laughing at me for injuring my boyfriend. Brendon had somewhat recovered, enough to glare at me during dessert and refusing to let me near him, but now that our company was gone he lay sprawled out on my bed in his remaining sorrow.

His eyes were clenched shut and small tears rolled down his cheeks. I really didn’t understand how it could still hurt after this long. But still, I leant forward and gently kissed where the tears streamed to wipe them away. His eyes snapped open and he glared at me.

“I’m mad at you,” he huffed, adjusting his legs so his ice bag wouldn’t fall off.

I rolled my eyes. If he could change into underwear and pajama bottoms, it couldn’t be THAT painful. “Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said sarcastically, hoisting up off the bed and walking over to my suitcase. I dug around for my pajama pants and a shirt I’d stolen from Brendon after our first night together. I brought them over to the bed and started unbuckling my belt.

“Anne, do you even know how painful this is?” he demanded.

I shrugged and puckered my lips, sliding my belt out of the loops of my jeans. “Well, I’d imagined the pain has dulled by now, but initially yes, I can imagine it’d be the worse pain a man can feel. Still, it’s nothing compared to the shit women have to deal with.”

He snorted and sat up, reaching over to turn on my iPod in the player. The music muted our voices considerably. “What, like giving birth? At least you get something from that—you get a kid. What do you get from this? Nothing but the inability to have sex for a few days.”

I shimmied out of my pants and pouted, climbing onto the bed and straddling his stomach. “Days?” I asked, running my hands on his chest teasingly. “Does that mean I don’t get to reward you for being so good today?”

His glare evaporated. “Reward me?” His voice seemed to have jumped a few octaves.

I smiled sadly and nodded, reaching down to grab the hem of my shirt. “Yes,” I sighed, lifting it slowly. “But you’re too much in pain,” I decided, swing my leg over and climbing off him to pull on my pajama pants. I glanced over at him and giggled when I noticed the ice bag had risen an inch or so.

“No no no, baby, I’m fiiiiine,” he said earnestly, pushing off the ice and spinning so his legs dangled off the bed and faced me. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, kissing my belly after I pulled off my shirt. I stroked his head lovingly—I was not a thin girl, and my slight budge never seemed to turn him off. Maybe the boobs and the winning personality made up for it.

“Honey, I don’t want to hurt you more,” I whispered, placing a finger under his chin to raise his gaze. “And believe me, I would hurt you.” He smiled and slid his hands up my back, helping me out of my bra. I stifled a laugh when he placed it on his head like Mickey Mouse and leaned down to quickly press my lips against his, smiling against his mouth.

“Later,” I promised against his lips, pulling away to pull on his shirt. He groaned when I turned the lights off and slid into bed, pulling him in with me and wrapping his arm around my waist. His fingers stroked my stomach softly and he nuzzled his face into the back of my neck.

“Tomorrow night,” he muttered against my skin.

I smiled. “Tomorrow night,” I agreed.