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The beginning of the offseason is Inez’s favorite part. Not just because it’s new and exciting, not just because it’s easy to be hopeful — although both of those are certainly true. No, the thing that’s most exciting is that the beginning of the offseason is garden maintenance. Which means the whole team in one place.
They let the beginning be about actual garden maintenance, naturally. But they leave the invitation somewhere nice and conspicuous around halfway through the second day, and then they wait, almost too excited to keep themselves together.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, Margarito says, “Hey, Owens?” Inez buzzes, and xe holds up the invitation. “What’s this?”
Of all the questions, Inez hadn’t thought to expect that one. Instead, they stare at Margo, waiting.
“I mean, obviously it’s a wedding invitation,” xe continues, which is gratifying. They’d been a little worried that the words on the invitation weren’t obvious enough. “But were you going to invite us?”
Inez points at the invitation in xir hand. Margo’s expression switches to bemusement. “This is your idea of inviting us?”
Inez hadn’t thought about inviting the team. It hadn’t occurred to them that the team wouldn’t just show up to this. They wouldn’t have considered invitations at all if Bees hadn’t brought it up, and then there were all sorts of considerations, like sending the invitations.
And honestly — look, Inez is smart. Most players don’t expect that, but they’re smart. One time Beck called them a living testament to collective action, and they’re pretty sure that’s right. The Garden wanted a player and the bees in the Garden all rose up together and decided they could do it, and that’s how Inez was born. Inez gets strategy. Inez gets how to be a person, approximately.
But Inez doesn’t really understand… addresses. Or mail. And this seemed more efficient anyways.
Margo seems to realize that before Inez has to figure out how to explain it. Xe just shakes her head. “Team meeting?” Inez nods, so xe cups xir hands around xir mouth and shouts, “Team meeting!”
It takes a while for everyone to actually wander over, because the garden’s pretty big. Jacob’s the first there, looking distracted, but he brightens up when he sees the invitation in Margo’s hand. He turns to Inez, beaming. “You finished the invitations? Can I see?”
Inez nods, and Jacob immediately leans over Margo’s shoulder. “That’s a good picture, was this in the Core or Boston?”
They buzz twice to indicate Boston. And they can’t do a lot of sign language — fine motor coordination is tricky sometimes — but they manage to sign, “Thank you.”
“I know a couple of people who do wedding cakes if you want,” he offers, and Inez flutters excitedly. “I can give you their numbers after this, if you—”
“Hold on,” Margo says, looking thunderstruck. “You knew about the wedding?”
Jacob blinks. “Obviously.”
“You knew about the wedding,” Xe squints. “You knew about the wedding?”
Jacob glances at Inez, who shrugs. They understand the skepticism. Jacob’s still not terribly fond of all the magic of the Garden, and he probably wouldn’t have been Inez’s first choice for a wedding confidant. But he’s been great about it, recommending photographers, asking questions Inez wouldn’t have thought of. He also agreed to keep it quiet until the whole team knew, and they can tell that he’s brimming with excitement.
He looks back at Margo. “I knew about the wedding. I was visiting the Core when the proposal happened.”
“You were visiting the Core,” Margo repeats. Inez buzzes out a laugh, which xe ignores. “You, Jacob Haynes, were in the Core. For fun?”
“Vacation with Moses,” Jacob says, and Margo finally relaxes into understanding. “So, you know.”
“Right,” Margo says. The rest of the team is gathered around by now, watching Margo and Jacob go at it like a tennis match. “Alright, I’ve got an announcement.”
“You don’t need to announce that Jacob and I went on vacation,” Moses says dryly.
“Not that.” Margo holds up the invitation. “Inez is getting married.”
The team explodes into motion and shouts. Hiroto starts flashing zir wings incessantly at Inez, something to the effect of “What the hell,” and everyone else is saying… pretty much the same thing.
“I think it’s cute,” Jacob says stubbornly. “I’m helping plan the wedding.”
“You’re helping—” Moses shakes their head in amazement. “Who are you and what did you do with Jacob?”
“I’ve been working with a couple of the Mechs. They’re nice. Oh!” He turns to Inez. “Kelvin wants to know if you’re doing the bat thing.”
The bat thing. The thing that’s been on Inez’s mind since they got engaged. The Flowers haven’t had any big weddings, so they don’t have special traditions. The Mechanics do. Spouses exchange bats instead of rings at the ceremony. Inez would rather have a bat than a ring anyways, so that part is fine. Bees had been excited about making one for them.
Inez, on the other hand, isn’t a maker. They grow things, dwelling in the Garden and keeping things alive. Inez doesn’t know how to make a bat. Bees had even said they weren’t expecting a bat in return, and Inez could do what they wanted.
Which, of course, meant that they had to figure out what they wanted to do. They’d considered growing bouquets or something, but… flowers die. Even flowers from the Garden die. A bat is forever. A broken bat can be fixed. There is a permanence to the idea of making Bees a bat that Inez likes.
So Inez nods. Jacob’s jaw drops. “Really?” And then, a little more delicately, “How?”
It’s a great question. There’s a lot to consider. So Inez just shrugs, and lets the conversation move on to poking fun at Jacob, or helping send out invitations, or whatever everyone wants to talk about. And on their own, very quietly, Inez starts planning.
#
The shadows used to be an impermeable barrier, impossible to get through. Even Inez, who is held back differently by the boundaries of blaseball, couldn’t reach the Flowers’ shadows.
But things are different. They’re not sure if it’s the siesta or the fans or even the Flowers’ own election results, but the shadows are permeable now. Which is a relief, because the first person on Inez’s list — the one that they want to see the most — is in the shadows now.
Zeboriah Wilson has his own farm now. Not the Amish farm he grew up on, but his very own farm. There are maple trees lining the edge of the property, and they seem to be a new color every time Inez visits. He makes jokes about making syrup to go with Inez’s honey. Two sweet things to go together.
He seems happy here. He grows crops and brings them to the team once a month. There’s a wooden hive, specifically for Inez. They don’t sleep or rest much, but it’s the closest thing they have to a home.
He’s waiting for Inez as they arrive, sitting on his porch and waving. They descend, not bothering to try and maintain any kind of human shape. He’s never cared about things like that.
“Evening, Inez,” he says, and Inez buzzes happily around him. He motions at a glass bowl next to him on the steps. “Sugar water for you. It was a long flight.”
Some of the bees land on the edge of the bowl, drinking from it. Inez buzzes in appreciation, and Zeb smiles. “What brings you all the way out here?”
It was hard carrying the invitation all this way, but some of the bees had held tight. Inez picks up Zeb’s hand, and he holds it out obediently. They give him the invitation, and he frowns. “What’s this?”
Inez ignores the question in favor of drinking more water. Zeb goes quiet as he reads, and Inez tries to busy themselves, and tries not to think too long about the quiet. Jacob had helped make a special invitation for him, with print large enough that he could read it. Jacob had also helped write the letter that’s attached, and had promised not to repeat any of it.
“Nez,” he says after a minute, and the swarm reforms itself, all eyes on him. He wipes a tear away. “I don’t know what to say.”
Inez makes a hopeful sound, and Zeb laughs. “I mean other than yes — of course, yes. I just mean… married? Can I meet them?”
Inez can’t speak, not in the traditional sense, but they have a few distinctive noises that they can make, things that the whole team understands. So they say a resounding, loud, “Yes.”
Zeb laughs again. “Getting married,” he repeats, with no small amount of wonder. “Tell me about them?”
This is the way of Inez and Zeb: even before the bees took the form of Inez, before there were plastic raincoats and willpower holding them together, the bees knew Zeboriah Wilson. He loved them, and not with the passive tolerance that most people love bees. He loved them and so the bees loved him too. His delight when Inez had turned into a person had been palpable, and Inez had been relieved to be born knowing that they were already loved unconditionally.
Zeb doesn’t understand Inez when they speak, buzzing and dancing around them. He just wants them to be able to answer. If he wants the whole story, he can get it from one of the Flowers or the Mechs later. Right now, he just wants Inez to talk.
So they tell Zeb about Bees. They talk about how they met each other at a gala to help the new teams get settled. They talk about seeing Bees from across the room and not being able to believe it, finally seeing someone else like them. They talk about learning to live in the Core, and all the conversations they’ve had about Bees moving to Boston, or even Inez moving away. They even talk about how anxious they are about all this, beneath the excitement.
Zeb doesn’t understand. But somehow, like always, he knows the right moments to nod and smile. He knows the right moment to reach out a hand, and it’s the easiest thing in the world for Inez to form a hand to hold onto him.
#
When Inez arrives in Charleston, Esme’s waiting for them to land. Inez even brought their raincoat this time, so they touch down as a fully formed person and wave hello.
“Welcome back,” Esme says, and holds hir arms open. Inez isn’t much of a hugger, but they hug Esme anyways, a brief, careful motion. No bees that aren’t safely inside the raincoat touch Esme. Not that ze would mind, they don’t think, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Ze doesn’t say much as ze leads Inez through the Choux. Inez tries to come once every season or so, and Esme insists on showing them around, as though they don’t go straight to the same place every time.
The original Memorial Bat Forest is in Boston, of course. Inez knows it well. Inez helps keep it alive and blooming. But the Shoe Thieves had wanted Morrow’s bat to be in Charleston, and so when Inez wants to visit them, they have to come here.
The bees knew Morrow. Not well; Morrow had only been on the team for half a season before getting incinerated, and now that they’re released… well, Inez isn’t sure what being released means, but they haven’t seen Morrow since then. But the bees knew Morrow enough to grieve, and that means Inez knows Morrow enough to visit their bat in Charleston.
This is more than a regular visit, though, and so Inez makes enough noise that Esme stops to look at them. They hold out the invitation and corresponding letter, courtesy of Jacob.
“You write now?” Esme says skeptically, and Inez just laughs. Out of politeness, they don’t send any bees ahead to visit Morrow’s memorial. Instead, they just wait and watch Esme read, eyebrows climbing up hir face.
At last, ze lowers the letter. “Well, first of all, congratulations.” Inez signs a thank you, and Esme smiles faintly. “And I’ll help you, but — are you sure? This seems like a big thing, you don’t have to do it.”
Inez makes a distressed noise. There’s no real way to convey to Esme that this is important to them, the same way that visiting Morrow’s memorial in the offseason is important. This is something they want to do.
Esme must understand, because ze nods. “I think we have shears somewhere. I can dig them up if you want to go on ahead, and we can get started.”
Inez nods and keeps heading towards the memorial. It’s small compared to the Flowers’ garden, a neat little grove of trees. Each tree has flowers planted around it, chosen by the Shoe Thieves even though they ask the Flowers for help. Inez knows them all well. They even know the newest tree, a sapling next to all the others, surrounded by rose bushes.
There’s always a ritual to the visits. Inez doesn’t have to pollinate every plant, but they do anyways. They didn’t know Fischer or Prestige that well, but that’s not important. What’s important is keeping these plants alive a little longer, keeping the memory alive a little longer.
Morrow Doyle’s bat grew into an ash tree. Their flowers are violets and they grow wild, despite any efforts to tame them. They’re sprawling across the roots of the tree, against the grass of their memorial, and Inez makes sure to land on each one carefully. They wouldn’t be here without Morrow; the least they can do is remember them now.
Esme gets back right around when Inez finishes up, garden shears in hand. “Ready?”
Inez buzzes affirmation, and ze grins. “Let’s get to work.”
#
Beck Whitney is surprisingly hard to track down.
Or, well, maybe not surprisingly. Not everyone actually lives in the city that their team is in, and plenty of people prefer to disappear during the offseason. But Beck’s not in Boston, or Miami, or even Honolulu. As far as Inez can tell, she dropped off the face of the earth as soon as the election ended.
It takes some doing, and some help from Margo, but eventually they find her in Vancouver, in a shoebox studio apartment. She seems perfectly happy when Inez knocks on her door, though, hugs Inez even though the raincoat is wet and doesn’t mind when some of the bees settle on her shoulders.
“I just missed the rain,” she explains, once they’re settled. She made Inez a glass of lemonade, more sugar than lemon, and doesn’t seem bothered by the contingents of bees jumping into and out of the glass. “I didn’t want to leave Miami, but if I had to, I wanted it to be for Seattle or Halifax. And since I had time off, I wanted to be somewhere cold for a while.”
Inez nods. They don’t understand, exactly; they think they’d rather be in Miami than Vancouver. But Beck seems content to be here.
“I got the invitation,” she continues, which is enough to surprise Inez. “Margo and Jacob both forwarded one to me. So you don’t have to visit just to ask.”
Inez shakes their head. They hold out the letter from Jacob, a little bit wet but still readable, hopefully. Beck has to squint as she reads, but they can tell when she gets to the most important question. Mostly because she slams the letter down on the table and says, “Officiant?”
It was Bees’s idea, actually. Inez gets the impression that Core weddings are a lot quicker than Boston weddings, but Inez wants a Boston wedding. They want something big, something that their teams and friends can come to, and Bees had been more than happy to go along with it.
And since the wedding is for Inez’s benefit, they got to pick the officiant. The Mechanics are planning the reception, but the Flowers — well, mostly Jacob — are planning the ceremony.
“Inez,” Beck says gently, “I haven’t been your captain for decades. It’s okay if you want to ask Margo or something.”
Inez shakes their head. Beck used to be able to understand bee language, at least in bits and pieces, so they say, “Margo said no.”
Beck laughs. “I’m your second choice?” she says teasingly.
“It’s not because you were captain,” Inez says. Beck frowns, so Inez repeats it a little slower: “Not because captain.”
It’s because Beck bought them their first raincoat. It’s because Beck learned how to read the ways that the bees dance so that they could talk to Inez. It’s because she tried to teach Zeb, did her absolute best to help them communicate even though he can barely see and Inez can’t make much noise. It’s because Inez has been bringing Beck flowers and honey for years now and Beck has let them visit even when she wouldn’t let hardly anyone else.
“Because of all my experience with the Core,” Beck says dryly, and Inez laughs. “Was there more?”
Inez motions at the letter, so Beck finishes reading it. When she lowers it she’s grinning. “Let me get a plane ticket.”
#
It takes time to put the last step into motion, because there’s an entire rest of a wedding to plan. There are cakes to taste and time to spend in the Core and vows to write. King is designing their dress, and he’s doing an excellent job. Jacob and Kelvin are doing a bang-up job as wedding planners, involved without being obsessed.
And between all of it is Bees. They spend a couple days on Zeb’s farm, and he’s incandescently happy to have the both of them there. Bees gets to know Boston, and the Garden, and the Flowers; Inez visits the Core and learns about everything there. They watch movies. They spend time together. It’s perfect.
“You’re up to something,” Bees says one day. “I can tell.”
Inez laughs. “And what about it?”
“Is it something good?”
“Something great,” they promise, and they’re pretty sure it will be.
Inez hasn’t been to Hawai’i in a very, very long time. But when they and Beck finally make it down there, the Fridays greet them like it’s been days instead of decades. It’s warm, and casual, and it puts Inez at ease. Informally, the entire league is invited to the wedding, but they might consider inviting some of the Fridays on purpose.
Beck, despite moving to Vancouver posthaste, has clearly spent time around the Fridays. She knows them by name, and she’s friendly with all of them. When she leads Inez to a food truck on the beach, she does it confidently, happily.
She knocks on the door on the back of the food truck. “Lizzy?”
“One second!” There’s a puff of smoke out of the windows, loud enough that Inez flinches away. Beck doesn’t. After a second the doors swing open, and a gangly woman jumps out. She starts out looking at Beck, but her eyes slide over to Inez, and her jaw drops. “Inez!”
Inez waves. They didn’t have the chance to meet Lizzy Pasta before she joined the shadows, but they know she and Bees had been close. Lizzy’s catering the reception. She’s supposed to meet with them about it sometime… next week, or the week after, or really whenever Kelvin calls to remind them about it.
Lizzy forgoes the wave entirely in favor of a hug. One of her hands rests against the back of Inez’s head, cradling them close. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” she says warmly. “I’ve known Bees a long time — you know, a long time, and I’m so happy they’ve finally found someone to make them as happy as they make everyone in the Core!”
Inez laughs, and Beck smiles. “We actually have a favor to ask you.”
“Oh, a favor! Of course, of course.” Lizzy takes a step back, still beaming. “Food favor?”
“Other favor. We have a project in mind, and we were hoping to keep it secret.”
“Secret,” Lizzy repeats. Her eyes are dancing as she looks between Beck and Inez. “Consider my lips sealed. What’s up?”
“Bat,” Inez says before they can help themselves.
They’re not expecting Lizzy to understand, but her whole face lights up. “You’re making them a bat?”
Inez nods. “Can you help?”
“Can—” Lizzy squints. “Sorry, one more time? I’m a little rusty.”
“Can you help,” Beck repeats. “I drew up what Inez described to me, but neither of us are handy enough to put it together.”
Lizzy grins. “I’m plenty handy for all three of us, don’t you worry about it. What did you have in mind?”
#
The best part of the wedding is:
Well, okay, the best part of the wedding is getting married, obviously. The best part of being married is that the planning is over, and Jacob and Kelvin discreetly high-five halfway through the ceremony, and Inez gets to go home and live with Bees, and tomorrow they will wake up with Bees, and the day after that, and the day after that too.
And the third best part of the wedding is the people. All the Mechanics and the Flowers are in the front rows, but that’s not all. Half of the Shoe Thieves came. Nearly all the Wild Low division is there, chattering right up until the ceremony starts. Bees has other friends from the Core that Inez gets to meet. It’s a celebration, something pure and joyful the likes of which Inez has never experienced before.
But the second best part of the wedding, the thing Inez will remember the longest, is right after the vows. Everything else is wonderful, from Beck officiating to hearing their vows to the still-surreal knowledge that it’s their wedding day. But this moment is what Inez has been waiting for for months.
“In the Core,” Beck starts, “I’m told that it’s traditional to exchange bats instead of rings. Something to symbolize your time together, not just to wear but to use, to keep with you always. Bees, would you like to present the bat you made?”
Bees turns to Jolene, who has been standing with his arms behind his back the whole time. He holds out the bat, and Bees takes it to present to Inez.
It’s gorgeous. The handle of the bat is dark metal with silver inlay, something delicate and spiraling that Inez is going to memorize as soon as they have the chance. There are little gears and cogs, ticking clockwork at the end of the handle. But the most breathtaking thing is the barrel: hollowed glass, filled with what looks like honey.
Inez looks up, stunned into silence. Bees reaches out and guides the bees of Inez’s hand to hold onto the handle of the bat. When they speak, it’s too subtle and soft for even Beck to translate, a moment for them alone.
“When I first saw you at that gala,” Bees says, and their hand tightens on Inez’s. “I remember thinking you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And then I remember thinking I was so glad that your raincoat is plastic, because I want to see all of you. So when I was making the bat, I wanted you to be able to see right through it. And see what’s inside.”
Inez tries to speak, but none of the bees seem to have any idea what to say, and so Inez doesn’t have any idea either. Bees must understand, because they give Inez’s hand one last squeeze and step just a little further away. They want to ask them to come back, but they force themselves to stay quiet. They want to see the look on Bees’s face for the next part.
Beck smiles. “Inez,” she says, and Bees startles. “Would you like to present your bat?”
“Your what?” Bees says aloud. Everyone bursts into laughter, including Inez, a flurry of motion inside their dress. “Inez?”
Zeb, who has also been patiently waiting with his hands behind his back, holds the bat out. Inez takes it gingerly, and he smiles at them. “You did perfect,” he whispered, “and I’m not just saying that because you made me your best man.”
Inez can’t help themselves: a couple of the bees fly up to land on his cheek, an approximation of a kiss. He laughs and waves a hand at them, so Inez turns back to fully look at Bees.
Zeb had chopped down the tree himself, one of the maples at the edge of his farm. There are violets winding around the barrel and at the base of the grip, a reminder of Morrow, of the reason that Inez could even be here. There are more flowers, too, flowers from their wedding, flowers from the Garden, even some flowers that Beck had left from the days it was a lowercase-g garden.
Lizzy had done a fantastic job, too. The whole thing is sturdy, held together with scraps from projects left from the Core. She’d told the story behind every scrap, stories Bees must know.
“Surprise,” Inez says, and a contingent of nanobot bees flies forward to surround the bat. Inez laughs. “You like it?”
“I’m in love with you,” Bees answers. There’s no subtlety to it; it’s a motion repeated by nearly every part of the swarm, in perfect unison. “This is— I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe you.”
“You deserved a bat too,” Inez says. “Easy as that.”
Some of the nanobots mingle with Inez’s own bees, a surprisingly forward gesture considering that it’s still the middle of their wedding. “But you made it,” Bees says. They sound amazed, awestruck, enchanted, and Inez is on the receiving end of that and it feels like they’re floating. “You did this for me.”
A group of bees fly from Inez’s leg to Bees’s. Beck laughs. “Okay, I think we’re losing control of the hive mind here, do you guys want to wrap it up?”
“Yes,” Bees says aloud, and everyone laughs again. They reach out and wrap a hand around the handle of Inez’s bat, and Inez does the same with Bees’s. “Go ahead.”
“Bees, Inez.” Beck looks between them. “Do you take one another to have and hold and make honey with, for double plays and home runs, in the spirit of the vows and the bats?”
“I do,” Inez says, and Bees says the same, and it is a crystallized perfect moment.
Beck, very wisely, takes a couple steps back, and Jolene and Zeb do the same. “Then by the power vested in me by your trust and your love for one another, I now pronounce you married. You can— uh—”
Inez stops listening. King spent a long time making their outfit, and it took a long time to style it just right, and it takes no time at all for the swarm to fly out towards Bees. They respond in kind, bee and nanobot and everything in between mingling together in one mess. Inez can barely tell the difference between the two of them anymore.
People are laughing and clapping and cheering, but all Inez cares about is Bees around them, talking and laughing and there. All Inez cares about is their two bats, still held tight between them.