*Disclaimer/Author's Note: Besides the fact that I do not own any of the characters of the Baby-sitters Club (they are entirely Ann M. Martin's) and no money has been made off of this manuscript. Another thing, it's been a while since I last wrote on the BSC series, for those who have forgotten, this is the sequel to 'Summer Love'; I hope you enjoy this and hopefully the wait was worth it. The time line is fifteen years down the line from the last book and Kristy is now 30 years old. I'm not a baseball player and I don't know how the real lives of players or anything but I've made Kristy the first woman in the Major Leagues. Anyway, enjoy the reading!
--wildnfree21 :) :) (: (:
Prologue:
A Whole New Ball Game
Cameras flashed. Lights shone. People clammoured around anxiously, hoping to catch even a glimpse of me, the famous Kristy Thomas. Famous. What a word. Who'd have ever thought that it would be used to describe me?
"Ms. Thomas is very exhausted from her long day of interviews," my publicist, Arlene, said from beside me. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was there. She's sixty plus years old but she has a prescence that you can feel whenever she's around. In a way, she's kind of like my grandmother, Nanny. I felt her firm hands on my elbows, urging me forward, out of the sea of people and flashing lights. I was so thankful she was there, I was getting dizzy and dazed from all that was going on. Never had I ever received so much attention. Not when I was the first woman to make it into the Major Leagues, not when I opened my first clothing line, not when I made my first movie (a flop to me, but Arlene said I was positively radiant), not _ever_. Oh, sure, the publicity was heavy when I started my baseball career (I _was_ sixteen, after all at the time) but now that I see all that's happening now, I realize that was the easiest part of being what Arlene calls a "star".
Why was I getting so much attention now? Because I was retiring from baseball. After only ten years in the Majors, my multi-million dollar contract was up and I was free to go to a regular life doing anything I wanted. I could go into law, medicine or even be a janitor Bloomingdales, it didn't matter. It was a running joke that I was practically the richest woman in the world (an exaggeration, I assure you) and that I had made more money than my children (should I have any) would be able to spend. That may be, but money sure didn't buy happiness. That much I knew for certain.
**********************************************************************
"I hate to sound like one of your interviewers, but how does it feel?" Arlene asked me later that night as we stayed up late in my hotel room.
I grinned and pulled my brown hair back into a ponytail. "How does _what_ feel, ma?"
Ma was what I called her whenever there were never any cameras around. That's what she had been like all these years. Like a second mother to me. She held me at night and let me pretend I wasn't crying when I blew a game and rejoiced with me when I did so great in a game that they were thinking of boosting my salary up even more. She let me talk to her when I didn't have anyone to talk to--and when I first joined the Majors, I didn't. There were numerous interviews and big talk about how I would certainly do well but no one that really cared about who I really was. They were all sharks, sharks that were waiting any sign of weakness or imperfections in me so that they could horn in on that to make it into some story.
"Kristin, don't play dumb. How do you feel about _retiring_? At the young, ripe age of thirty?"
"God, am I _that_ old, ma?" I asked, sitting across from her.
Arlene scoffed. "Old, my foot." she spat. "You're still young, believe me, girl. Ever so much younger than most woman when they retire."
"Mmm." I mumbled. "Honestly, ma, I'm a little scared."
"Scared? Of what?"
I sighed and laid myself out on the settee of the living room area. I was starting to feel tired. "Scared of everything. The end of my baseball career, the thought of having to do grown up stuff, of going back to Stoneybrook to see everyone from my childhood." I paused. "Don't get me wrong, I'm dying to see my family and it'll be great seeing Mary Anne again, but, do you think things will be different?"
"Of course." Arlene answered truthfully. "Life happens. People will be grown up. Things will be different. But you never know. Change can be a good thing." she gestured to me, lying on the couch. "Look at you. You were just an awkward little girl when you started professional baseball, now look at you. You're all grown up and sophisticated and you can fit into any world you want. The tough, athletic world, the bubbly, glamourous, world of Hollywood. People love you. You're ever so much more attractive than you were when you were sixteen."
I laughed. "Thanks, ma."
"Nah, you were all right. But what was it that People magazine said about you? The sexiest woman of the year?"
"Sports Illustrated, ma. And they said I was the Major's sexiest bombshell. They must think I'm an idiot--I'm the Major's only bombshell. Hell, I'm the only woman."
"That's a technicality, and--"
"To hell with technicalities." we both finished at the same time.
We were both silent for a long time before Arlene got up and went to the little kitchen nook. She returned nearly ten minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate with sticks of cinnamon stuck into the mountain of whipped cream.
"Ma, I'm gonna miss you." I said, taking the mug from her.
"I'll miss you, too, Kit-Kat." That figured. I called her 'ma', she called me 'Kit-Kat'. I'd have killed her if she ever let the press get a hold of that information. "But, it's about time that I retired as well, Kristin. I'm getting old and I want to spend time with my sister in Canada."
I sipped my hot chocolate and nodded. "I want to be home too."
Arlene laughed. "Maybe with me out of the way, you can start having those wild, out-of-control parties that big sports stars are supposed to have, eh?"
I laughed hard, "Oh, yes, of course. The sole purpose of my life these past fifteen years was to make it big enough so I could blow my reputation on one night of drunken party-ing."
"You were always so serious." Arlene said admirably. "Maybe now that you have some free time, you can be a kid again."
We talked some more about things, remembering different areas of my life that were monumental: my first professional home run, my first red carpet walk, etc... It wasn't long before I had two hours before my flight.
"Ma, I'm seriously going to miss you." I whispered as she hugged me tight in the airport. There were countless members of the press milling around, taking pictures about what should have been a nice, private farewell. But I didn't care. I would miss her.
Before I boarded my plane, my whole team arrived. All big, broad-shouldered men that became big brothers to me ever since I became a Major Leaguer.
"Good-bye, Kristy." Big Joe said in his deep baritone as he scooped me up in his arms and hugged me so tight I almost suffocated.
"Bye." I whispered, fighting back tears.
"You take care of yourself when you're back in the country." Another of my teammates told me. He was from New York and always teased me of being from Stoneybrook.
"I love you, too." I returned and hugged him again.
Then, as if I were being filmed, I saw myself swept away into the plane, seated in the first-class section and looking out the window as we taxi-ed out of the airport runway. My mind blurred and cleared, remembering good times and bad times of my sojourn into the world of sports. So much had happened since I was fifteen. Maybe too much. And although my eyes still blurred from the flashing cameras, I was suddenly becoming more aware of how evanescent my career was. The flight was long and it gave me a lot of time to think. And by the time my plane was landing in the airport in Stamford, I felt like I had slipped out of a time warp. It felt like the past fifteen years had been all a dream and I was simply slipping back into my teenage years, slipping back into my childhood, where everything was caught in the middle of being fairly simple but horribly complex. I was Kristy Thomas. No longer Sports Illustrated's sexiest bombshell or Hollywood's part-time glamour girl.
I was back home. People were leaving the plane now, every now and then stopping to say "hello" to me or ask me for an autograph. I smiled and did as they asked but all the while my stomach churned, my heart raced and my throat swallowed because I knew somehow without even being certain that my family who I hadn't seen in the longest was waiting for me inside the airport terminal. And that a very different chapter of my life was about to begin. I would be transplanted back into a world that was fifteen years older than when I had left it. My brothers and sister would be older. My best friends would be older. No need to say that my parents would be older. I would have to adjust to it. And like it or not, I would for the most part be doing it alone.
Here goes nothing... and with adrenaline racing through my veins, I left the airplane to start a whole new ballgame.
--wildnfree21 :) :) (: (:
Prologue:
A Whole New Ball Game
Cameras flashed. Lights shone. People clammoured around anxiously, hoping to catch even a glimpse of me, the famous Kristy Thomas. Famous. What a word. Who'd have ever thought that it would be used to describe me?
"Ms. Thomas is very exhausted from her long day of interviews," my publicist, Arlene, said from beside me. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was there. She's sixty plus years old but she has a prescence that you can feel whenever she's around. In a way, she's kind of like my grandmother, Nanny. I felt her firm hands on my elbows, urging me forward, out of the sea of people and flashing lights. I was so thankful she was there, I was getting dizzy and dazed from all that was going on. Never had I ever received so much attention. Not when I was the first woman to make it into the Major Leagues, not when I opened my first clothing line, not when I made my first movie (a flop to me, but Arlene said I was positively radiant), not _ever_. Oh, sure, the publicity was heavy when I started my baseball career (I _was_ sixteen, after all at the time) but now that I see all that's happening now, I realize that was the easiest part of being what Arlene calls a "star".
Why was I getting so much attention now? Because I was retiring from baseball. After only ten years in the Majors, my multi-million dollar contract was up and I was free to go to a regular life doing anything I wanted. I could go into law, medicine or even be a janitor Bloomingdales, it didn't matter. It was a running joke that I was practically the richest woman in the world (an exaggeration, I assure you) and that I had made more money than my children (should I have any) would be able to spend. That may be, but money sure didn't buy happiness. That much I knew for certain.
**********************************************************************
"I hate to sound like one of your interviewers, but how does it feel?" Arlene asked me later that night as we stayed up late in my hotel room.
I grinned and pulled my brown hair back into a ponytail. "How does _what_ feel, ma?"
Ma was what I called her whenever there were never any cameras around. That's what she had been like all these years. Like a second mother to me. She held me at night and let me pretend I wasn't crying when I blew a game and rejoiced with me when I did so great in a game that they were thinking of boosting my salary up even more. She let me talk to her when I didn't have anyone to talk to--and when I first joined the Majors, I didn't. There were numerous interviews and big talk about how I would certainly do well but no one that really cared about who I really was. They were all sharks, sharks that were waiting any sign of weakness or imperfections in me so that they could horn in on that to make it into some story.
"Kristin, don't play dumb. How do you feel about _retiring_? At the young, ripe age of thirty?"
"God, am I _that_ old, ma?" I asked, sitting across from her.
Arlene scoffed. "Old, my foot." she spat. "You're still young, believe me, girl. Ever so much younger than most woman when they retire."
"Mmm." I mumbled. "Honestly, ma, I'm a little scared."
"Scared? Of what?"
I sighed and laid myself out on the settee of the living room area. I was starting to feel tired. "Scared of everything. The end of my baseball career, the thought of having to do grown up stuff, of going back to Stoneybrook to see everyone from my childhood." I paused. "Don't get me wrong, I'm dying to see my family and it'll be great seeing Mary Anne again, but, do you think things will be different?"
"Of course." Arlene answered truthfully. "Life happens. People will be grown up. Things will be different. But you never know. Change can be a good thing." she gestured to me, lying on the couch. "Look at you. You were just an awkward little girl when you started professional baseball, now look at you. You're all grown up and sophisticated and you can fit into any world you want. The tough, athletic world, the bubbly, glamourous, world of Hollywood. People love you. You're ever so much more attractive than you were when you were sixteen."
I laughed. "Thanks, ma."
"Nah, you were all right. But what was it that People magazine said about you? The sexiest woman of the year?"
"Sports Illustrated, ma. And they said I was the Major's sexiest bombshell. They must think I'm an idiot--I'm the Major's only bombshell. Hell, I'm the only woman."
"That's a technicality, and--"
"To hell with technicalities." we both finished at the same time.
We were both silent for a long time before Arlene got up and went to the little kitchen nook. She returned nearly ten minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate with sticks of cinnamon stuck into the mountain of whipped cream.
"Ma, I'm gonna miss you." I said, taking the mug from her.
"I'll miss you, too, Kit-Kat." That figured. I called her 'ma', she called me 'Kit-Kat'. I'd have killed her if she ever let the press get a hold of that information. "But, it's about time that I retired as well, Kristin. I'm getting old and I want to spend time with my sister in Canada."
I sipped my hot chocolate and nodded. "I want to be home too."
Arlene laughed. "Maybe with me out of the way, you can start having those wild, out-of-control parties that big sports stars are supposed to have, eh?"
I laughed hard, "Oh, yes, of course. The sole purpose of my life these past fifteen years was to make it big enough so I could blow my reputation on one night of drunken party-ing."
"You were always so serious." Arlene said admirably. "Maybe now that you have some free time, you can be a kid again."
We talked some more about things, remembering different areas of my life that were monumental: my first professional home run, my first red carpet walk, etc... It wasn't long before I had two hours before my flight.
"Ma, I'm seriously going to miss you." I whispered as she hugged me tight in the airport. There were countless members of the press milling around, taking pictures about what should have been a nice, private farewell. But I didn't care. I would miss her.
Before I boarded my plane, my whole team arrived. All big, broad-shouldered men that became big brothers to me ever since I became a Major Leaguer.
"Good-bye, Kristy." Big Joe said in his deep baritone as he scooped me up in his arms and hugged me so tight I almost suffocated.
"Bye." I whispered, fighting back tears.
"You take care of yourself when you're back in the country." Another of my teammates told me. He was from New York and always teased me of being from Stoneybrook.
"I love you, too." I returned and hugged him again.
Then, as if I were being filmed, I saw myself swept away into the plane, seated in the first-class section and looking out the window as we taxi-ed out of the airport runway. My mind blurred and cleared, remembering good times and bad times of my sojourn into the world of sports. So much had happened since I was fifteen. Maybe too much. And although my eyes still blurred from the flashing cameras, I was suddenly becoming more aware of how evanescent my career was. The flight was long and it gave me a lot of time to think. And by the time my plane was landing in the airport in Stamford, I felt like I had slipped out of a time warp. It felt like the past fifteen years had been all a dream and I was simply slipping back into my teenage years, slipping back into my childhood, where everything was caught in the middle of being fairly simple but horribly complex. I was Kristy Thomas. No longer Sports Illustrated's sexiest bombshell or Hollywood's part-time glamour girl.
I was back home. People were leaving the plane now, every now and then stopping to say "hello" to me or ask me for an autograph. I smiled and did as they asked but all the while my stomach churned, my heart raced and my throat swallowed because I knew somehow without even being certain that my family who I hadn't seen in the longest was waiting for me inside the airport terminal. And that a very different chapter of my life was about to begin. I would be transplanted back into a world that was fifteen years older than when I had left it. My brothers and sister would be older. My best friends would be older. No need to say that my parents would be older. I would have to adjust to it. And like it or not, I would for the most part be doing it alone.
Here goes nothing... and with adrenaline racing through my veins, I left the airplane to start a whole new ballgame.