Chapter Text
“You could come with me.”
Those four words had been ringing in Carson’s ears since Greta had said them to her almost 8 months ago. What if she had just gone? What if she had gotten in the taxi and left Charlie on the porch of the Peaches’ house? Maybe then she wouldn’t have been stuck in a house with her husband, who constantly threatened to turn her in, wouldn’t be clandestinely packing her bags to catch a train to Chicago for the second season of the AAGPBL.
When Charlie confronted Carson on the front porch, she quickly realized there’d be no talking her way out of the situation. Carson remembered vividly the look in Charlie’s eyes; it wasn’t sadness, or hurt. She had seen that from him before. This look, this was pure anger. It scared her. The fire in his eyes made Carson feel numb, frozen. He had thrown the bouquet he had brought her to the ground, yelling loud enough for anyone inside or outside of the house to hear.
“I knew it. I knew you were just like your mother, except that as far as we know, your mother wasn’t a–”
“Charlie!” Carson interrupted him, screaming. Her hands and voice trembled, fear surging through her veins about the word she knew he was about to say. Dyke. Carson’s mom wasn’t a dyke, but she was. She saw the wave of rage crash over Charlie when she cut him off. He was surprised that she had done it, and so was Carson. In the 7 years they’d been married and the even longer time they’d been together, Carson was always pleasant and agreeable, not daring on more than a handful of occasions to contradict him. But she knew what would happen if she let him continue; she knew how many people would hear, too many people who had too much power.
Their yelling had attracted attention. Maybelle was the first to hurry out of the front door, Lupe and Jess trailing after her. With a concerned look that only a mother could have mastered, Maybelle met eyes with Carson, then flicked over to Charlie before looking back at Carson. Cautiously, Maybelle said, “What’s going on out here?”
Carson pulled into herself, placing her hands together in front of her, and dipping her head. Embarrassment and fear painted her cheeks a light red. She looked at Charlie, as if to say, “Yeah, what is going on?” Charlie only pursed his lips, tightly clenched fists at his sides.
Tears welling, Carson turned towards Maybelle. “Will you help me pack please?” Maybelle nodded and reached a hand out towards Carson, leading her inside and upstairs.
Charlie told Carson on the train ride home that there was no way in hell she’d be going back to play baseball if there was another season. It took everything in her to just nod and turn her head back towards the window. She wanted to scream at him, throw something like “what happened to caring about what I wanted?” in his face, but she knew that too much damage had already been done. Her only reasonable option for the moment was to stay silent.
———————
“You know, if I had half a mind, I’d turn you in. You and Greta.” The knife she’d been holding clattered from Carson’s hands as she turned away from her cutting board and towards Charlie. They’d been home two days, and those were the first words he’d spoken to her since they were on the train.
“Yeah, Charlie? What’s stopping you then?” Carson had had enough of being the meek little lamb at the will of the man standing across the kitchen from her. Now she was angry, not just at him, but at herself, for taking the risk to kiss Greta in the open. The bar showed Carson that there was a reason for Greta’s rules, and yet, she broke them.
Charlie took a step towards her. Carson jolted back, pressing against the counter. Okay, maybe she was still intimidated by him. Her face hardened as she tried to maintain her resolve. “Don’t you realize how humiliating that would be for me Carson? Don’t you know that the whole town would be talking about me, the guy with the sick wife who ran away from him? I will not let your delusion ruin my reputation.”
A lump caught in Carson’s throat at the word delusion. She couldn’t help herself but think that the only delusion in her life was thinking she’d married the right person.
She swallowed, reaching her hands behind her, gripping the edge of the counter. Charlie stepped closer, his demeanor changing in an instant. The deep furrow in his brow softened as he put his hands around her waist. His touch was foreign, rougher than she ever remembered it feeling.
“I love you, Carson. I love you too much to let you go. I will keep fighting for you. For us.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. In this moment, Carson remembered why she married him. Charlie had his moments of tenderness, and in reality, the tenderness was more common than the moments that made her question him. In this moment, Carson realized that maybe she could really stay with him. That is, until she could find the opportunity to get out.
———————
Greta had heard just enough as her taxi pulled away from the house to know that it would not be safe to send Carson mail to the address that she’d given her.
Everyday, Greta spent more time thinking about Carson and her safety than she did about her job and her life in New York. As months passed, Greta could only hope that the lack of news about Carson meant that she was safe. Greta clung to hope in knowing that if she had been reported, newspapers would gobble it up. She could see the headline: “AAGPBL player discovered to be an invert”. Her stomach turned at the thought. Dana’s ring on her pinky finger reminded her everyday of how cruel the world is; she could only hope the world would be a bit kinder to the woman who opened her eyes again to the beautiful parts of it.
Jo had kept in touch. Keeping with their original plan, she had gone out to California after the season ended. With some help from Sarge, Greta was able to get her new address to Jo. A letter came three weeks into living in New York. Coming home from a long day at work, Greta brought her mail into her apartment, lazily skimming through the envelopes until she reached the last one. Life came back into her body as she saw who the sender was.
She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter, ravenously consuming the words Jo had written. She had found work in San Jose and was settling into her new routine. She wrote about how much she missed Greta and how life wasn’t the same without her by her side. Greta’s vision became blurry as she finished reading the letter.
As quickly as she had torn open Jo’s letter, Greta sat down to write one back. She told Jo all about Vivienne’s cosmetics company and how her job was shockingly difficult. In vague terms, she told her about what she heard on the last day she saw Carson. She wished more than anything that Jo could be with her in person so she could talk freely; she knew better than to send anything possibly incriminating through the mail.
The letters between the two continued throughout the months, the women sharing stories from work or about a new bar or restaurant they’d discovered in their new communities. A weight had been lifted off of Greta’s shoulders to know that she still had Jo, in some capacity, but it was never enough to completely settle her nerves from not knowing if she was in the same boat with Carson.
Soon enough, April rolled around, and Greta received an invitation from the league to come play in the second season. Her spot on the peaches was promised this time around. Spring training started on May 14th in Peru, Illinois. A train ticket to Chicago, and a subsequent bus ticket to Peru were enclosed, hers to use should she accept the offer.
Accepting the offer wasn’t even a question in Greta’s mind. Not only was this a chance to keep playing baseball, which she loved, it was a chance to reunite with Jo, should she have been extended the same offer. And it was a chance to know if Carson was safe.
Greta had the opportunity to reunite with the person who she was so hopelessly in love with, the person who had been so rudely ripped away from her. Greta found herself allowing her mind to succumb to the daydream.
———————
Carson’s hands shook as she shut the clasps of her suitcase and slung the duffel bag with all of her gear in it over her shoulder. Charlie had just left for work, and she had to leave now, or she’d never get the chance. She looked around their home, taking in every detail; she was sure this would be the last time she’d see it.
There were papers sat atop the kitchen table, her gold ring sitting on top of them. As soon as she had received the offer from the league, which she had narrowly intercepted from Charlie, Carson found a lawyer to file for divorce. She kept the papers hidden until this day, knowing that she wouldn’t have the courage to give them to her husband face-to-face.
She worried that this may be the final straw for Charlie, and that she’d be reported as he’d threatened many times throughout the last months. But somehow, the threat of that felt less suffocating than the idea of staying and pretending that she was the perfect housewife who loved being under her husband’s control.
Gathering her courage, Carson shut the front door of their home, and made her way to the train station.
———————
There wasn’t enough time to write Jo and ask if the same offer had been extended to her to return. Any letter sent in response would have come far after Greta had left New York. Stepping on to the train was a leap of faith for Greta, a statement that Jo would be there to meet her in Illinois. Truthfully, it wasn’t Jo that Greta was worried about, though. They’d find each other one way or another, she was sure of that.
Carson had to be there. Greta longed to see her soft, brown hair, which would undoubtedly be grown back out, her dimple that peeked out whenever she was truly happy, her muscular outline that still maintained femininity. Most of all, Greta needed to see Carson’s eyes.
Carson’s eyes were always a look into her soul. Subtle differences, which only Greta seemed to pick up on, told her just how Carson was feeling. Whenever they’d lost a game, Carson’s eyes tended to drop; her brown irises became just a little bit duller, a little less full of life. After a win, her eyes always looked up, wide and sparkling. And when Carson looked at Greta, her eyes became something entirely different. The chocolate brown became flecked with caramel accents, her pupils dilated ever so slightly, and a sheen took up its place. Carson’s eyes when she looked at Greta were the truest version, the version of Carson being fully, irrevocably happy.
Greta’s 20 hour train ride felt like an eternity. The league had purchased her a ticket on arguably the nicest train in the country, but even the fine dining and the posh, comfortable seating couldn’t distract Greta’s worried heart. She tried without prevail to get some sleep; every time she nodded off, she’d jolt awake, heart beating out of her chest. A distant thought in her mind wondered if she would ever be able to sleep peacefully if Carson wasn’t at spring training.
At long last, Greta’s train pulled into Grand Central Terminal in Chicago. Now, only a two-hour bus ride separated Greta from knowing if the two people she cared about most in the world would be there to greet her. Greta’s hands and breath shook as she made her way to the bus station.
Somehow Greta managed to doze off on the bus, and awoke to soft shaking from a familiar hand. She opened her eyes to see Sarge standing over her. She quickly straightened up, pressing the wrinkles of her dress down. She’d planned to change into something more appropriate for training on the bus, but apparently her sleep-deprived body had other ideas.
“Miss Gill, it’s great to see you.” Sarge said with a warm smile. The rare show of– dare she say– affection from Sarge eased Greta’s mind ever so slightly. She rose from her seat to see the bus completely empty besides the two of them and the driver. She blushed, realizing that the driver must have asked Beverly to come in and wake her. She gathered her belongings and followed quickly after her chaperone to exit the bus, giving a passing, sheepish nod to the driver before descending the steps.
“We’re expecting Shirley any minute now, and then you, Shirley, and Jess will all ride together to the field to start training. Jess is already in that car over there.” Beverly gestured to a black car pulled to the curb. Before Greta could turn and ask if she knew who all was coming, Beverly had turned and walked away from Greta, back towards the bus stop.
Frustrated but anxious to see her friend, Greta jogged to the car, handed her bags to the driver, and opened the door, sliding into the seat.
“Hey roomie,” Greta said casually. Jess looked at her with a sort of half-smile. She wouldn’t ever admit it, but she was just as glad to see Greta as Greta was to see her. Jess never was much of a hugger, so Greta simply slid into the car to bump shoulders with her before scooting back to put some space between them.
“Do you know if Carson’s coming?” Greta asked, her tone and body language a little more desperate than she meant for it to be. Jess looked at Greta with a touch of sadness, an ever-knowing gaze. “I’m sorry Greta, I don’t know.”
———————
It was only a 15 minute drive to the field from the bus stop, but Greta was more than ready to get out of the car by the end of it. She missed Shirley, she really did, but she did not miss her tendency to ramble on about the imminent danger they were always in.
As soon as they got to the field, Greta beelined for the locker room. As desperate as she was to go out and start playing (and to search the crowd for familiar faces), she was more desperate to peel the dress she’d been wearing for over 24 hours off of her body and change into clothing more apt for running around in. The driver had taken their bags ahead of them to the hotel, so Greta just had a simple shirt, some shoes, and the red joggers that she had worn to the first tryouts with her.
She ducked into a stall to change, instantly feeling better after slipping on the fresh clothes. When she walked out, she spotted someone in the main area. Someone familiar.
She snuck behind the woman, successfully getting close enough to her to reach out and give her sides a quick squeeze. The woman spun around quickly, a look that could kill plastered on her face. The look soon dissolved as she realized who had been behind her. “Greta, goddamn it.”
“I had to, Joey! It was too good!” Greta gasped between cackles. Jo shook her head and pulled Greta into a hug. The two were lost in the embrace for several moments, both feeling as if they had finally been reunited with the other half of themselves.
“Let’s hit the field, slugger,” Greta said, smacking Jo’s ass on the way past her.
———————
Carson was the last of the Peaches to arrive for training. She rode with Beverly, who tried to engage her in conversation, but Carson’s mind was incapable of staying present. Sarge seemed to understand, and kept talking regardless of Carson’s barely existent responses.
When Carson finally stepped out onto the field, her only response was the same she’d had the first time: “Holy shit”. There were even more girls here than there were last season; the league had expanded and there were two more teams. Carson’s eyes flitted through the crowd, searching for one person in particular.
Finally, Carson caught sight of Esti. And next to Esti was Jess, and next to Jess…
———————
Greta’s eyes had been fixed towards the entrance from the moment she got onto the field. Jo and Greta had found several of the other Peaches, and had been conversing with them about their time in the offseason. There was a mutual understanding from everyone present that Greta’s seemingly distant demeanor wasn’t about any of them.
Greta had almost finally given in, turning her head towards the other Peaches to engage in the current conversation, when she caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of her eye. She whipped her head back so fast it actually hurt a little.
There she was. Carson. Greta was right in her assumption that her hair would be more grown out. This time, it didn’t look like her hair was weighing her down so much, though. Carson was carrying a confidence that she didn’t have the first time they had met. The joy and relief on Greta’s face was obvious.
Finally, Carson’s eyes met Greta’s. Carson’s pace picked up as she jogged over to the group. She nearly knocked Greta over when their bodies collided, locking into an embrace. Tears of relief ran down Greta’s cheeks.
They pulled apart, Greta searching Carson’s eyes. To her relief, those happy, shining eyes that Greta was so desperate to see were perched above her nose, and Greta’s body rushed with the feeling she’d been searching for ever since she left Carson on that porch, all those months ago.
———————
The first day of training was short. The girls had traveled from all over the country (or even across borders), many, like Carson and Greta, arriving that same day that training began. All of the Peaches made their way to the Peru Hotel, which they’d be calling home for the next almost two weeks. There weren’t enough rooms for everyone to have their own, but there were enough that there’d only be two girls to a room.
Shirley put up a good fight to room with Carson again, but Carson talked her way into rooming with Greta, just like she had in Kenosha for their first away game. When she finally realized exactly why Carson was being so persistent, Shirley’s face flushed as her eyes widened and her mouth formed an “O”. Carson still wasn’t sure exactly where Shirley stood, but she knew enough to know that their secret would be safe with her.
The Belmont had been very nice last year, but their hotel this year was even more posh. The girls had access to baseball diamonds to practice as they pleased, as well as a swimming pool. When they passed by the pool the first time, Carson bit her cheek at the idea of Greta in a swimsuit after a long day of training. She made a mental note that she’d have to find a department store; she only brought the things she absolutely couldn’t live without. After all, her whole life could hardly fit in a suitcase.
The team had all gone out for dinner together, and then returned to the hotel. Jess and Lupe had roped Jo, who was also staying at the Peru despite the fact that she was remaining on the Blue Sox this season, into a game of cards. The group had tried to recruit Carson and Greta to play too, which was met with lame attempts at making excuses to go up to their room.
Greta had charged ahead to the room, Carson trailing a bit behind. Lupe called after Carson, stopping her in her tracks for a moment. She turned around and Lupe winked at her. “Go get a thing.”
Once she was in the hallway, Carson picked up her speed, jogging a bit to meet Greta, who was holding the door open for her.
“After you,” Greta said, beaming. Carson smirked and shook her head a bit before walking into the room. She plopped her bags onto one of the beds before turning to find Greta right behind her.
Greta took no time to grab Carson’s jaw, hurriedly, but gentle, and pull her into a kiss. Her forwardness had clearly startled Carson a touch, but soon after, Carson had her hands tangled in Greta’s hair, melting into the other woman’s body.
The women stayed there for a long moment, until Greta finally pulled back.
“Hi.” Greta said, the sting of tears in her eyes.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Perhaps their eloquence hadn’t improved since that first night in the bar, but this time, the communication was far more clear.
Tears streamed down both of their faces, eyes looking into the other’s. Carson reached up to wipe Greta’s eyes with her knuckle.
“I spent everyday wondering if you were okay, Carson. I heard you and Charlie on the porch.” Greta’s breath hitched.
Carson held back a sob. “It was unbearable staying with him all those months. But I knew I had to if I ever wanted to see you again. I left divorce papers on the table when I left.”
Greta looked stunned. It took her a moment to form the words, “You did that? For me?”
“For you, Greta, but also for myself.”
Greta smiled. That confidence she saw in Carson when she first stepped onto the field was shining through. Greta had a feeling that she was going to be seeing a lot more of her favorite version of the eyes she was staring into.
———————
The women showered and quickly fell under the covers together, leaving the other bed covered in their belongings.
Carson fell asleep first, her head resting on Greta’s chest, the thump of her lover’s heartbeat soothing her to sleep. For the first time in a long time, Greta dozed off quickly as well; the weight of Carson’s head on her chest was comforting, familiar, unlike the weight she’d carried for so many months in Carson’s absence.