Stephanie Doyle - Scout's Honor

At that point Bob also joined them. He was freshly showered and dressed and he kissed his wife on the cheek before looking at Scout.

“She is a caring mom. You should try letting her be that with you sometime. You might like it.”

“Pretty doubtful, Bob,” Scout said, turning her back on both of them. “Are you ready? I need to go.”

Jayson picked up the remainder of his bagel and brought his cup over to the sink. “Thanks for breakfast, Sam. Ma’am, Bob.”

Scout didn’t bother with saying goodbye or letting them know when she planned to be back. It wasn’t as if they were going to sit around and have some kind of family dinner. Scout still could barely handle food. It hadn’t been an issue when her day consisted of lying in her bed and crying. Not a whole lot of calories burned that way.

However, today she was actually going to work. She was going to sit outside in the fresh air and breathe it in. Maybe that would help her appetite. Maybe she was even ready to put her brain toward something that wasn’t thinking about how her life was over without Duff.

With that they left the kitchen and walked down the driveway to her car, except she stopped and Jayson kept walking.

To his car.

It was a nice car. A BMW 3 Series he’d bought when he’d signed his first major contract. It was red and slick and had been the love of his life until he’d met her.

“You don’t seriously think I’m letting you drive?” he asked.

“You never had a problem letting me drive before.”

“Scout, you’ve been a zombie for two weeks. I can’t trust you to keep your attention on the road. We’ve got a good four-hour drive ahead of us.”

He was right. She’d driven to the grocery store and had almost caused an accident when her mind had started to wander. She walked to him and thought about how it was going to feel getting into his car again. If it was going to smell like him and leather and mint because Jayson was a mint gum fanatic.

“I think I might have hit my head,” she said as a way to distract herself. Yes, just the feeling of sliding into the passenger seat brought back the memory of every time they had gone out. Including that first time, to Pete and Jocelyn’s wedding. She’d been excited that night. So filled with anticipation it had practically lifted her off the ground.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been fuzzy with things lately and I think at some point I fell and hit my head. You know, when...he died.”

Jayson looked at her. “You don’t remember if you fell?”

“I know, right? That’s why I think I hit my head. My memory is like totally blank from that day.”

He was looking at her funny. As if he knew something she didn’t. Then he just shook his head. “I think you would know if you hit your head. You would have a bump.”

True. She’d actually felt around for one, but there was nothing. “It’s just that I sort of remember falling. When it happened. But you’re right, I would have a bump. Do you know where we’re going?”

He took out his phone and placed it in the console section of the car. “Yeah, I put the address into the phone.”

Scouting made easy through technology. Just plug in an address and let the GPS plot a route. Scout wondered how the old guys used to track down high schools all over the country.

Jayson looked over at her before he started the car. His smile was faintly nostalgic, and she knew he could feel it, too. The past was reaching out to grab them both and remind them what they used to be once upon a time.

“Just drive,” she said. “And no talking. It’s the only way I’m going to get through this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With that she turned on the radio to a sports talk station and for hours they listened while grown men called in to fight with the hosts about anything and everything related to sports.

When they reached the first stop, they parked and found the baseball diamond. “Who are we here for?” Jayson asked as they took their seats in the bleachers.

They had made it with plenty of time to spare, even after stopping for lunch along the way. The game was to start immediately after the school day ended at three. Right now they could see some of the players take batting practice on the field.

“Ronny Wells. He’s seventeen and apparently has the stuff. Greg emailed me a profile of him when I let him know I was coming back to work. It seems the kid’s not sure if he wants to go into the draft or go to college. Greg wants me to determine if I think he’s ready for the minors.”

“That’s good,” Jayson said.

“What’s good?” Scout asked him.

Jayson shook his head. “Nothing, just that it’s good Greg is trusting you with this assignment.”

“Uh, duh, it’s sort of my job.”

“Right.” Jayson smiled.

They watched the team gather around a man in the middle of the field. Scout assumed it was the team’s coach. There was some laughing and guffawing and then finally the man emerged from the pile of teenagers.

“Fine, but I’m only doing this to humor you all,” they heard the coach say with a smile.

Curious what his team was asking him to do, Scout watched while the man picked up a bat and then got into the batter’s box. The catcher didn’t bother to set up behind him. The kids then circled the mechanical pitcher.

“How fast do you want it, coach?”

It was obvious the team had done this before. Obvious the coach knew what they wanted him to say.

“Bring the heat,” he told them.

“Ninety-five!”

“Ninety-five,” Jayson muttered.

“Yeah, wow. That’s as fast as that machine will throw. That guy doesn’t have a shot.”

The first ball out of the machine got knocked over the fence in the outfield. And so did the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Jayson asked her.

Scout was seeing it. She was hearing it, too. Pure contact, hit after hit. The man had a flawless swing. “How old do you think he is?”

“Maybe a few years younger than us. Maybe not.”

Eventually the coach’s hitting display was over and the other team arrived. Scout took her notebook out and started doing her job on the kid. He was definitely a solid prospect, but she didn’t think he warranted a high enough draft position to sway him from going to college.

Given his evident frustration at the loss of the game, which resulted in him knocking over the Gatorade cooler, Scout thought college might help a kid like this mature. Baseball wasn’t always just about physical abilities. A lot of it had to do with what was between the ears. Especially when it came to pitchers.

They descended the bleachers and made their way over to the dugout. The coach came out to greet them.

“Here to see Ronny?” he asked.

“How did you guess?” Scout said.

“It’s a small town. I know all the parents. When I spot strangers, I assume they’re from the MLBSB.”

The scouting bureau was a secondary source of scouting information a lot of the clubs used. Sometimes it was hard for one team of scouts to cover the country. The bureau hired scouts simply to track players and log data for any team to access.

“We’re from the Rebels,” Scout said, not bothering to mention that Jayson was really just along for the ride. Not to mention that sometimes when the coaches or fathers realized she was the scout, and obviously a woman, they immediately discounted her. It never bothered her, considering the coach or father wasn’t the one she was coming to see.

“He’s definitely got stuff,” the coach said.

“He does.” Scout agreed but didn’t go into too much detail. It was her opinion that a coach would always try to sell their kid hard, regardless of what they truly thought.