Page 7 of Small Town CEO Grump

“You can call me Ryan, and there’s no reason to be sorry,” I answered.

“I don’t usually dress this casually,” she said, gesturing to her hooded sweatshirt and track pants. “But I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

I laughed. “I get it. I don’t usually wear jeans to the office either, but here I am. It’s late on a Sunday evening so it was a pretty reasonable assumption that we would be alone.”

The woman smiled and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. She wasn’t wearing makeup and had her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, but she was stunning.

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing that I was staring. “I am sure I must have met you before, but I have forgotten your name.”

“I’m Jenna,” she answered, reaching out her hand to shake mine. “Jenna Nichols. I am the office manager here.”

“Oh, nice to meet you, Miss Nichols.” I said, thankful to have a face to put with the voice I had heard earlier.

“Oh, call me Jenna,” she said. “Especially if I’m supposed to call you Ryan.”

“Well, It’s nice to meet you, Jenna,” I said. “So, your sweatshirt… Coastal Carolina Softball? Did you play there?”

Jenna nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I was on the team for four years. I didn’t get much playing time my freshman year, but I had the privilege of being a starter for the other three.”

“What position did you play?” I was not surprised to hear that she had been an athlete, as she was clearly still in excellent shape.

“Middle infield,” she said. “Almost always at second, but I had a few games playing short.”

“Nice,” I said. I felt the familiar pang that I felt when I discussed college sports, but I knew that I couldn’t get out of the conversation now that I had started it. “I am also a former ball player.”

“Really?” Jenna asked, and I could see that she was genuinely interested.

I nodded. “Yep,” I said. “Penn State. I played for three years until an injury ended my career.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she responded. “What position?”

“Center field,” I answered.

“I’m sorry to hear you got injured,” she said. “I’m sure it was awful not being able to leave the game on your own terms.”

I stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say. No woman had ever understood that aspect of my life, which is why I had never really discussed it. I had always brushed it off that it was part of my past and that clearly my present was working out just fine, but she was right. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to end on my terms.

“Thank you,” I finally said. “Well, you are obviously hard at work, and I need to get my office set up. I’ll let you go.”

Jenna nodded and headed back towards her desk.

“Wait,” I said. “Can I ask why you are here? Is this a usual thing?”

She laughed. “My son has a baseball game tomorrow, so I have to leave work a bit early so that I can watch him play.”

“Makes sense,” I said. I was surprised to hear that she had a son old enough to play baseball, as she looked really young. I had also already noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but I wasn’t going to pry into her personal life. I decided that there was nothing else that needed to be said, so I gave her a simple wave and walked back to my office.

I unloaded the rest of the boxes from my car, and then started getting everything arranged the way that I wanted it. I displayed a few pictures on my shelves, and then hung up my framed photo of Yankee Stadium. I didn’t have too many personal artifacts, but I always found that clients liked seeing a little bit about my life and seemed to feel more comfortable when they found out that there was more to me than just real estate.

I put the last box on my desk and hesitated opening it, knowing that it was going to be difficult to look at the memorabilia inside. However, I knew that they were excellent conversation starters, and that the people in this community would be intrigued.

It was also a huge part of your life, I thought to myself. And you spent two years in therapy learning how to handle losing that aspect, so you may as well get to it. Face it head on - now.

I knew I had to face it, and there was no use prolonging it. I took a deep breath, opened the box, and began slowly removing all of the items and placing them on my desk.

I took out my glove first, then the jersey, two signed baseballs, and finally the framed magazine article listing all of the Major League Baseball teams who had expressed interest in signing me to their roster.

I pushed aside the feeling of regret that always came when I spent too much time thinking about the past, and I ignored the dull ache that was ever-present in my knee. I would never forget the day I injured my knee and ended my baseball career. I had been running to catch a fly ball and stepped in a divot in the grass and tore my ligaments. I endured seven surgeries to get back to walking condition, but I would never be able to play professional ball.