Free Out of My League by Dirk Hayhurst Page A

That’s why I want you to know that”—I took a breath—“if you want me to quit baseball in order to help you put all this together, I will.”
    Bonnie started shaking her head at me, slowly at first, but then distinctly in disagreement. “No,” she said, “absolutely not. I don’t want you to do this with any regrets.”
    “I wouldn’t be regretting anything,” I said. “I’ve gotten to play longer than most people ever do. I’ve played at every level besides the Bigs, and even if I get there”—these words were particularly hard to hear myself utter—“there is no guarantee it will make up for all I’ve given, and would give, to do it. I’m ready for a life beyond baseball, and you’re a wonderful reason to move on.”
    “You don’t have to move on. We’ll make this work. Dirk, I love you. I love you for the man you are and the way you treat me. I love you because you make me feel free, even though you insist you’re not going anywhere. I want to be with you and I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t think we could do it. I think getting married after the season is a wonderful idea and it’s not going to get in the way. We’ll figure it all out and it will be incredible, because the people involved are incredible, right?”
    I started to smile, but her positive attitude could not defeat the unresolved details and failure-to-launch experiences I had in my mind. Bonnie deduced this and said, “Don’t worry about all the details. I’ve only been waiting my entire life to plan them—I got it covered!”
    “Okay then,” I consented.
    “Okay? Okay! This is great! We’re going to get married!” Bonnie opened the car door and ran out into the snow.
    I followed her out of the car. “So you’re not disappointed that I asked you instead of just proposing? I didn’t ruin some momentous, once-in-a-lifetime girl experience for you?”
    “I’m glad you asked me if you could ask me.”
    “That doesn’t sound very romantic, though.”
    “No, but it’s smart, and I know you’ll come up with a real romantic official proposal. I trust you.”
    “Oh, well, no pressure. You know, if I get sent back to Double A, it could be a while before I can gather up enough to get you a ring. Of course, if I get sent back to Double A after the year, I think that would be baseball’s way of telling me I should move on.”
    “Then you have two great reasons to make the Triple A roster. Now stop trying to kill my buzz!” Bonnie wadded up a snowball and threw it at me—it missed by six feet.
    “No wife of mine is allowed to miss a spot that bad.” I made a snowball and drilled her in the back. Soon we were snowball fighting, then wrestling, then sitting on the hood of the car kissing.
    “I hope I can give you a wonderful proposal experience.”
    “You worry too much. I don’t care if you propose with a doughnut, I’ll say yes.”
    “Do you have any particular flavor doughnut you’d like?”
    She kissed me. “I love you, Dirk Hayhurst.” Then she jerked away from my lips and said, “Oh my gosh, you know what we have to do?” I braced myself for the onslaught of wedding ideas that were about to pour forth. I had just given her the power to shackle me to every single nauseating decoration idea, dress choice, and color scheme obsession.
    “We should call your grandmother and tell her we’re getting married, and that we plan on living in her basement.”
    I smiled. “You are going to make a fantastic Hayhurst.”

Chapter Ten
    Two months later, Bonnie walked with me through the airport lobby to the security checks. We both stopped and came to terms with what the next few steps would mean. The off-season had run its course, and it was time for me to board a plane that would take me away from her and back to the game.
    “I’m not a big fan of good-byes,” I said.
    “Me neither,” said Bonnie.
    “I feel like I’m doing something wrong, like I shouldn’t get on the plane.” I searched Bonnie’s