To Be, Or Not (Class of 85)

by Margo Hoornstra

  “You’re giving me a complex here.” He produced his most charming smile which was wasted when she didn’t bother to look up at him.

  “How so?”

  He ticked off the times he’d asked her out and she’d refused. “I’m surprised you haven’t used the excuse you need to wash your hair.” Ducking his head, he tried to study her face. If she felt any remorse at all turning him down so many times, he wanted to see her expression reflect it. Chin directed downward, she took great pains to avoid his scrutiny.

  When she glanced up at last, he caught her faint smile. “That’s tomorrow night. You should have asked me last night. Tonight, I have to brush the dog.”

  “I didn’t think you had a dog.”

  The keys retrieved, she reached for the door handle of her car. “My neighbors do.”

  He put his palm flat against the top of the panel. “I asked you to share a beer at Doogan’s with me last night.”

  “The team’s in training. You’re not supposed to drink.”

  At her next attempt to open the door, his hand slid down to cover hers. “The no booze mandate doesn’t apply to me any more. I’m a coach now.” He closed his fingers over hers. “I’ve changed from when I was a player.”

  She lifted a skeptical gaze to him. “Interesting turn of phrase, Barry.” Before he could ask what she meant, she said, “I went to lunch with you last week.”

  He shook his head. “Pizza and pop in the upstairs conference room with the admin staff and coaches doesn’t count.”

  “We were together,” she teased, and he cherished her weak smile. She was less uptight than the night he drove her home from Doogan’s; he’d consider that a victory.

  “With Donaldson and Trudy between us,” he reminded her.

  “Together is together,” she insisted while the hesitancy in her voice suggested she’d temporarily run out of arguments.

  He pressed his advantage before she could regroup. “As it turns out, today, you’re in luck.”

  “Trudy enjoys your company,” she said before he had a chance to tell her what she was in luck for.

  “And I like her too,” he agreed, then lowered his voice. “But, I like you more.” When she didn’t offer an immediate response, as in invent another reason to turn him down, he stayed on message.

  “I get the feeling your recent avoidance of me has to do with not wanting us to be alone.” Though his gut tightened as he verbalized what he hated to admit to, he made himself smile. “Marcy invited me to dinner tonight,” he said and dropped his hand from hers. “Why don’t you come along?”

  With the car door now open, she paused before climbing inside. “Thanks, but I don’t want to drop in on her unannounced.”

  He had his cell out before she’d finished yet another refusal. “So, I’ll call and announce you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Too late. I already hit speed dial.”

  When his sister’s voice mail picked up, he acted as if he actually had her on the line. Desperate times required desperate measures.

  “Yeah, Marcy. Hi. It’s me.” He glanced up at Amanda and smiled. “Amanda’s with me. Yeah. We’re just leaving work. I invited her over for dinner like you wanted me to.”

  Amanda reached out with one hand. “Let me talk to her.”

  Stepping back, he lifted the phone away. “What’s that? Your potatoes are boiling? By all means take care of them first. We’ll be there soon. Bye.” He put the cell in his pocket.

  “Are you sure about this?” Though a frown marred her mouth, there was no mistaking the slightest acceptance in her eyes.

  His heart lifted to take leap of faith. “Marcy and John live on Harper Lane in Maple Hill. Do you know where that is?”

  “I’ve probably been to Marcy’s as many times as you.”

  “Probably more,” he conceded.

  “I don’t know about that. She and I made it a point to get together whenever I came home from the city. While you were in Baltimore.”

  Barry stayed quiet for a moment while he tried to figure out how he’d missed seeing her at least a few times in two decades. Unless she avoided him on purpose. Reaching that unpleasant conclusion, he scowled.

  “I’ll drive over myself and meet you there,” she said.

  “That works,” Barry replied, refusing to let the scowl deepen.

  She hadn’t out and out bolted on him when he started talking to her, she’d agreed to dinner. Minor victories he wasn’t about to screw up with requests for more intense togetherness. He’d save that for later.

  ****

  The door of John and Marcy’s house opened before Barry and Amanda set foot on the porch.

  “Amanda’s here! I told you Mommy said she was coming over.”

  “You did not! I’m the one who told you.”

  Preceded by the spirited sibling debate, Carley and Amy, seven and five respectively, burst out to greet them.

  And Barry shut his eyes on a small prayer of thanks Marcy had gotten his message.

  Then, between the excitement of his two nieces and one tail wagging Border Collie named Max, the adults could hardly get into the foyer. Pushed tight against Amanda by a dog who relished any opportunity to herd, humans or sheep, Barry slipped an arm around her waist to keep her there before his nieces started in again.

  “Amanda, I want to show you my doll,” one began.

  “No, I have to show you my picture I just made,” the other countered.

  In between a few more ‘Amanda this’ and ‘Amanda that’ Barry thought he heard a few off handed hellos with his name attached. Confirmed when he received a hasty hug from each.

  With one on either side, Carley and Amy led their commandeered visitor into the house, all the while jabbering about the latest happenings at the day camp they attended on Wednesdays and what they planned to do when school started up again in the fall, leaving their uncle alone in the entrance.

  “Can you show me how to draw a picture like that after dinner?” he heard Amanda ask as the tight knit threesome disappeared around a hall corner.

  Shaking his head, he reached down to scratch Max behind the ears as the memorable aroma of pot roast simmered with potatoes, carrots and onions beckoned.

  “You’re making my favorite, huh sis?” Barry called out over the clamor of a busy household. “Perfect.”

  “You aren’t the only reason,” Marcy hollered back. “Pot roast is John’s favorite, too.” She caught him in a hug as he came into her kitchen. “My way of keeping that super star ego of yours in check, little brother.”

  Seeing Amanda was settled on a couch in the adjoining family room, flanked by two eager little girls, he sat in a barrel backed maple chair at the table content to watch.

  “I left my ego in Baltimore.” He raised his voice as he sought to catch Amanda’s eye, but she was too busy with the girls to hear. “Permanently,” he added.

  “This is my baby. Her name is Melinda Joy,” Carley was telling Amanda. “She needs a nap soon,” she went on with grave seriousness. “But, you can hold her for a while if you want to.”

  “I’d be honored to hold Melinda Joy.” Amanda accepted the doll as carefully as if it were a real and fragile infant.

  Barry’s heart filled with what he could only describe as love as the woman he cared for so much cuddled the blanket wrapped bundle then gently rocked back and forth as if she were born for the task. At the same time, she managed to offer murmurs of approval at Amy’s latest art project displayed on the piece of green construction paper.

  “So when do you plan to give her a real baby to snuggle like that?”

  At Marcy’s question, spoken close to his ear, Barry didn’t hesitate. “The first opportunity she gives me.”

  Standing behind him, his sister put both hands on his shoulders. “Honestly?”

  Dragging his gaze from Amanda, he turned to look up at her. “I’ve never meant anything more in my entire life.” His focus returned to the woman he fin
ally admitted he truly loved. “Right after I ask her to become my wife.”

  “Really!?” Marcy’s squeal caught the startled attention of the busy trio.

  “Mommy, shhh,” Carley admonished with a stern look.

  “Sorry, darling.” Marcy was careful to keep her tone low. “Uncle Barry just told me something very exciting.”

  Barry shot a visual rebuke Marcy’s way as Amanda had just enough time to give them each a curious look before again being distracted by the girls.

  “Luckily, Melinda Joy didn’t wake up,” Carley sniffed with pint sized authority as she retrieved the doll from Amanda. “I’m going to put her to bed now,” she announced. “Then turn on the radio in my room with the volume down low.” The authoritative tone remained as she marched past them and up the stairs.

  “And, I’m going to finish my picture like Amanda suggested.” Amy rose to follow her sister as Amanda joined Barry and Marcy at the table.

  “So what did your brother tell you to earn such a lively reaction?”

  Barry reached over to take her hand, pretending he did so to bring her into their confidence. “I just gave her a run down on some of our new talent, and promised her beloved Hornets would have a good run at a championship season.”

  Raising an eyebrow to show she wasn’t completely convinced, Amanda didn’t press them for confirming details or make any attempt to retrieve her hand.

  “Dinner is about ready,” Marcy said. Barry noticed how his sister had yet to stop smiling. “We can eat as soon as John gets home.”

  Amanda pulled her hand from Barry’s. “I’ll set the table.”

  “Thanks, I’ll help.” Marcy glanced up as they heard the front door open, then quickly stood to hurry toward her husband who appeared soon after. “How was your day?” She walked quickly into opened arms that immediately closed around her.

  “The usual.” Face beaming, he angled his head to accept her welcoming kiss.

  With their arms securing them together, his around her shoulders, hers holding his waist, they turned to face their guests who now stood beside the table.

  Barry pulled his eyes away from the sight of Marcy’s arm snug around her husband. “Hey, John. How are you doing?”

  “Fine. And you’re looking good, little bro.” John clamped large fingers over Barry’s shoulders in what passed as a masculine hug. “But, not half as good as this lady beside you.” The booming voice softened. “How have you been, Amanda?”

  She accepted the huge hand he offered with a bright smile. “Doing well, John.”

  “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” With gleeful shouts in perfect unison, Carley and Amy scurried downstairs and into the kitchen.

  Releasing Marcy, John bent down as two smaller sets of arms closed around his neck. “How’s my girls?”

  Both answered at the same time, adding detailed information unique to them. With a gigantic smile, John’s eyes darted from one to the other as he tried to keep up.

  “You can tell Daddy more about your day at dinner,” Marcy said as John returned to her side. “We’ll eat in half an hour.”

  “Can we watch TV in your room until then?” Carley asked.

  “Yes, you can,” their mother told them.

  “I get to pick the show because I asked permission,” Carley giggled, purposely beating her sister to the stairway.

  “No, I do,” Amy insisted, running to keep up.

  “Just find something you can both agree on,” Marcy called after them as John shook his head on a quiet laugh.

  “Barry was filling us in on the prospects for the Hornets’ success this season,” Marcy told her husband when quiet returned.

  “That’s good to hear at long last.” John straddled a chair at the head of the table as he and Barry went on to discuss stats and game winning probabilities. A conversation interrupted when squeals and squabbles erupted from somewhere on the second floor.

  As one, John and Marcy turned toward the sound.

  “I said a half hour of cartoons, not arguing.” Going to stand at the bottom of the stairs, Marcy listened, but the arguing failed to stop. With an eye roll, she headed upstairs. “I’m coming up there.”

  “And, I’m coming with her,” John exclaimed with more humor than anger.

  Watching his brother-in-law and sister, Barry became more aware than ever of what he’d missed out on over the years. Couching a glance at Amanda, he couldn’t help but wonder if the kind of love John and Marcy had would be something he and she might come to have someday.

  Amanda broke a silence Barry failed to notice. “It’s pleasant here.”

  In Summerville? Or with me?

  “John and Marcy have a nice house. And a fabulous family.”

  “The girls are pretty terrific,” he said at last. “John’s a great guy too.”

  “Marcy and the girls are very lucky,” Amanda agreed in a quiet voice.

  Not nearly as fortunate as John.

  “Marcy says they’ve been married over twenty years.”

  “Twenty-five to be exact,” Barry noted. “They changed the date from early March so I wouldn’t have to miss pitcher/catcher camp my freshman year at Ohio State.”

  His words were met with an uncomfortable pause. “That was a busy year for you and your family.”

  “Yeah. It was.” When Amanda averted her eyes, he said, “There are a lot of anniversary milestones taking place this year.”

  “There are,” she agreed in a whisper.

  Not sure what to say next, Barry was relieved when John and Marcy rejoined them.

  “We bribed them to be quiet with ice cream,” John chuckled.

  Hands on her hips, Marcy gave her husband a glower of mock disapproval.

  He countered the look with another huge grin. “It keeps the peace and I’m the good guy,” he said as he retook his chair. “So the Hornets have a chance to shine, huh?”

  “If Riley and the other rookies keep their heads on straight,” Barry noted.

  “And it’s part of your job now to keep them in line.”

  “That it is,” Barry agreed. “Which shouldn’t be too difficult. They’re basically good kids. Definitely devoted to their sport.”

  “That’s a plus,” John nodded.

  Marcy pulled a stack of plates from the cupboard and carried them to the table. “It’s so easy for the notice these guys get to go directly to their heads. Like someone else we all know and love.” She aimed a wink at Amanda and gave an affectionate hand tap on her brother’s shoulder before walking over to the stove. “Can you help me for a minute, John?”

  “Sure can,” he said and rose.

  More frustrated than he wanted to let on, Barry kept his head down as Amanda clattered dishes and silverware into six neat place settings around the table.

  “What does a guy have to do around here to be forgiven for his mistakes of the past?”

  “I have no idea.”

  At Amanda’s softly spoken answer, he glanced up. “You don’t, do you?”

  And I have to acknowledge the possibility you never will.

  Chapter Six

  “How the hell did this happen?”

  As soon as the bellowed question erupted over the phone line, Amanda stretched out her arm in full extension to avoid the prospect of serious hearing loss.

  “I don’t know how, Barry.” She made sure her tone back at him was equally sharp. “I’m only relaying what the police report says.”

  She heard him haul in a swift breath. “Look. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Hearing one of my star players is involved with the Bison County Sheriff’s Department, and not in a good way, ‘how the hell’ was the first thing that popped into my mind.”

  A softening of her voice was her way to avoid further confrontation. “It’s listed as ‘engaging in inappropriate sexual contact’,” and went on before he could respond. “Roger’s on his way to my office right now and he is hot. Take my advice,” she whispered, “don’t try matching tempers with him; he’ll
win.”

  As if on cue, Donaldson’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Is that Carlson on the phone?”

  She took in the deep scowl on their general manager’s face. “It is.”

  “He does sound steamed,” Barry admitted.

  She pressed her lips closer to the mouthpiece. “Told you.”

  With a few agitated strides Donaldson crossed the room. “Tell him to get to wherever that damned kid is and stay with him until this whole frickin’ mess is figured out. Find out every single thing the kid has said to the media and a few things he’s been attributed as saying. The press thrives on this sort of crap; they’ll have a field day.”

  Amanda no longer felt it necessary to muffle her voice. “Did you hear all that, Coach?”

  Barry sighed. “Tell him I’m on it.”

  She’d barely relayed that message before Donaldson barked, “I expect you to stay on this, too, Marsh.”

  “I heard that, too,” Barry replied. “Guess we’re tag teamin’ the poor kid, huh?”

  Amanda tried very hard not to shriek, “What do you mean poor kid?” but purposely lowered her voice again. “Did you or did you not listen to the statement I just read you? The one about what he did.”

  “I listened,” Barry said, “to what he’s been accused of.”

  Donaldson cut in, “As a favor to me, Rory McElroy has set up a special meeting this afternoon to take Riley’s preliminary statement before the damned thing starts impacting ticket sales.”

  “Roger is friends with the County Sheriff?” Barry asked.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “A little, I guess.”

  “They’re both what you’d call community leaders. In attending some of the same area functions, they became friends.” She couldn’t resist a slight moral jab. “Some people rejoin communities better than others.”

  “I want this whole issue resolved by the time our season opens in two weeks,” Roger demanded. “You got that?”

  “Got it Roger,” Amanda said.

  “Tell him me too,” Barry said.

  “Barry says he’ll do his best.”

  “I always do my best, Amanda.”

  Taking in his last words, she mumbled something about having to get back to important issues and hung up on him.