Fast-Pitch Love

by Clay Cormany

  Phoebe came over to the sofa and sat down on the other side of Aunt Jill. "Tell us about him," she said, her impish face aglow.

  "Fred’s a retired dentist. He lost his wife to breast cancer four years ago. We got paired up at a bridge party back in April. After that, he asked me to Sunday dinner and an outdoor concert near the courthouse. We’ve been out several times since then to movies and plays and the like. He says I make him happy." She gave a little laugh. "Imagine that, an ugly wallflower like me making some guy happy."

  "That’s great Aunt Jill!" exclaimed Jace. "And don’t sell yourself short. I bet you had some boyfriends when you were younger."

  "Not that many, not compared to your mother. She was so pretty and popular. All the boys flocked to her whenever we went anywhere together. And she’d get invited to parties that I wouldn’t even hear about until they were over."

  "You’ve got someone now who cares about you," Jace said. "That’s the important thing."

  A worried look came over Aunt Jill’s face. "He may be upset with me now. I had to break a date with him tonight so I could come here with you."

  "But he’ll understand you had an emergency, won’t he?"

  "I hope so."

  Jace picked up the phone from the desk and held it out to her. "Why don’t you call him and see how he’s doing?"

  "You think I should call him?"

  "Yes, just like Stephanie called me. Tell him you’re sorry you couldn’t be with him tonight and that you hope to see him as soon as you’re back in Marion."

  "I do have his phone number," Aunt Jill said, her face brightening, "so I guess I could do that."

  Phoebe leaned across her aunt and tried to take the phone, but Jace pulled it away.

  "Give me the phone," Phoebe begged. "I want to call Mom first."

  "Not now," Jace replied. "She might be resting."

  "But it’s not that late," Phoebe persisted. "Please let’s call her and talk with her a little bit."

  "All right," Jace said, pulling the piece of paper with the hospital number out of his pocket. "But when we’re done, we’re going upstairs so Aunt Jill can call Fred."

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Martha scowled at Phoebe, who sat on the floor of the den, watching television and tossing a softball toward the ceiling at the same time.

  "Will you stop throwing that thing?" she snapped.

  "Sorry," Phoebe said. "I won’t do it anymore."

  "No wait, sweetie…" Martha rubbed her head and plopped onto the couch. "It's me who should be sorry. I shouldn’t yell at you like that."

  "It’s okay. I know you don’t feel good."

  Martha shifted on the couch and eased her head into a pillow.

  "Where’s the ice pack?" she shouted.

  "It’ll be ready in a minute," Jace answered from the kitchen. "Do you want ice cubes or ice chips in it?"

  "Doesn’t matter. Grind up an iceberg for all I care." Martha pressed the pillow around her ears. "Can you believe they won’t let me go anywhere for two weeks? I feel like I’m under house arrest."

  Jace decided not to remind his mother that two weeks would be the least amount of time she would be grounded. Depending on her progress, it could be longer. To his and Phoebe’s relief, the CAT scan revealed no swelling or other critical damage to their mother’s brain, but the neurologist who examined her appraised the concussion as a Grade Three, meaning it was more serious than first believed. The neurologist allowed Martha to leave the hospital but on condition that she remain at home and avoid any strenuous activity until he checked her again in two weeks.

  Jace handed the ice pack to his mother. She placed it gingerly on the bruise, which hung over her right eye like a little purple cloud, and eased back onto the couch, sinking her head into the pillow as far as it would go.

  "Can someone help me with my suitcase?" The voice came from Aunt Jill, who entered the den from the living room. She still wore her black raincoat, but she had put some curls in her hair and a touch of rouge on her cheeks.

  "Be glad to," said Jace. "Where is it?"

  "At the bottom of the staircase, but wait 'til I give these pills to your mother."

  Aunt Jill placed a small bottle on the desk, within easy reach of where Martha lay. "I called the pharmacy and arranged to have a re-fill ready for you once you've taken all of these pills." She pointed toward the second floor. "I've put clean linens on all the beds and scrubbed down the bathroom from top to bottom. Oh, and I vacuumed the carpets up there, too."

  "Yes, I heard you," said Martha, steadying the ice pack on her head.

  "Is there anything else I can do?"

  A little smirk came over Martha's face. "You could paint the house or re-shingle the roof. You've done about everything else."

  Aunt Jill folded her arms across her chest. "Well, maybe I will do those things if you agree to stop coaching softball. There are safer sports, you know, like croquet and shuffleboard."

  The smirk disappeared from the younger woman's face. "You know it's my passion, Jill. For a while, it was one of the few things that made me happy after the kids' father ..." Martha stopped mid-sentence, as if something in her heart pained her as much as the injury to her head.

  "I know," Aunt Jill said, "but it was worth a try." She glanced at Jace. "Time to go."

  Jace followed his aunt into the living room. He grabbed the suitcase and opened the front door. "Got a hot date tonight?" he asked her once they were outside.

  "As a matter of fact, I do," she said. "And you?"

  "No such luck," he answered with a laugh. They walked to the subcompact and Aunt Jill popped the trunk. Jace nestled her suitcase between an old blanket and a first aid kit and pulled the trunk door shut. Then he put his arms around his aunt's shoulders and hugged her.

  "Thanks for everything. You’re a gem," he said softly. He meant it, too. In the last few days, his aunt worked tirelessly: first driving his mother home from the hospital and then doing a dozen other chores, including fixing meals and picking up prescriptions at the drug store. Even early in the morning or late at night, she was ready to help if needed.

  Aunt Jill gave Jace a quick kiss on the cheek and then opened the door of her car. She was about to get in, when he motioned for her to wait.

  "Hey, why don’t you and Fred come down sometime and watch my softball team in action?"

  "You mean that girls' team your mother was coaching?"

  "Yeah, they’re starting to play pretty well."

  Aunt Jill seemed to struggle with that idea. "That would mean I’d have to ask him for a date, wouldn’t it?"

  Jace shrugged. "No big deal. You’ve already talked to him once on the phone, right?"

  "I actually called him three times while I was here," said Aunt Jill. "I made two of them after you and Phoebe were in bed."

  "Then what’s the big deal with asking him out?" Jace continued. "By now, he almost expects you to call, so invite him to come to Ridgeview with you to see the Valkyries in action. I’ll even send you a schedule so you’ll know when we’re playing."

  Aunt Jill’s face brightened. "All right, I will. Maybe I won’t even wait to call. Maybe I’ll ask him tonight."

  "And maybe he’ll say yes."

  After his aunt drove away, Jace went back into the house and helped Phoebe put together a tray of veggies and crackers, which they served to their mother.

  "Thanks, guys," Martha said, propping herself up on the sofa and putting the tray in her lap. She picked up a carrot stick and munched on it. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought. "I’ve been thinking about the team," she said. "Since I can’t leave the house for a while, I may see if another parent can take my place."

  "Don’t do that just yet," Jace said. "Sylvia’s checking with the commissioner to see if she’ll let us coach the team without you."

  "It would be great if you could. I think the girls have a lot of trust in the two of you."

  In the afternoon, Jace drove to the law firm where his mother
worked and brought back some green card applications for her to go over when she felt up to it. Later, his grandmother in Fort Wayne called to see how everyone was doing, and Mrs. Havener stopped by for a visit. Just after five, the doorbell rang. Jace answered it and found Sylvia standing in front of him. She wore her Valkyries jersey and cap, and in her hands she held a casserole dish.

  "Hi, Jace, how’s your mom?" Sylvia asked.

  "Not too bad. She’s resting right now. Come on in."

  As Sylvia came through the doorway, Jace gave her a puzzled look. "I thought you were going to call me," he said. "And how did you get here anyway?"

  "My mom dropped me off. She’ll be back in a few minutes." Sylvia held out the dish. "Here take this. It’s my specialty — shrimp and wild rice casserole. You can eat it tonight or later on."

  "That’s awfully nice of you," said Jace, taking the dish from her.

  "And I’ve also got some good news," she added. "Well, sort of good news."

  Jace knew Phoebe was watching television in the den, so he pointed toward the kitchen. He put the casserole into the refrigerator and then sat down with Sylvia at the table.

  "What’s your ‘sort of good news'?" he asked.

  "The commissioner Mrs. Ryerson said she’d let us coach the next game without your mom and see how it goes."

  "So we’re kind of on probation."

  "Yeah, you could say that."

  "I’m not worried about it. We know what to do, don’t we?"

  "Yeah, we do." Sylvia sounded a little hesitant.

  "What’s wrong?"

  "Nothing, except we’ve been through the schedule once, so now we’ll be playing teams for the second time."

  "I know we’ve got a game tomorrow but didn’t check who we’re playing."

  "The Firebirds."

  "Oh yeah, the professionals. But they’re not going to humiliate our girls the way they did last time. We’re much better now. In fact, if they get too cocky, we might just upset them."

  "But I’d feel better if your mom was there."

  "So would I, but she’s not, so you and I will just have to do the job."

  A horn tooted outside, and Sylvia jumped up from her seat.

  "There’s my mom. Gotta go!"

  Jace walked with Sylvia back to the front door. "Thanks again for the casserole," he said.

  "Don’t mention it."

  He opened the door and paused. At that moment, he felt drawn to Sylvia. Soft tendrils of warmth seemed to flow from her, beckoning him to come closer. So he did. Seconds later they were hugging. They hugged once before after the win over the Dragons. But this one was different. Jace didn’t want this hug to end, and when it did, he wanted another.

  ****

  In the team meeting before the game with the Firebirds, Jace’s eyes wandered toward Sylvia more than once. She was almost as stunning as Stephanie. Not only did her hair flow down over her shoulders, it was swirly and shiny. Her face was smooth, bright, and acne-free, her lips a luscious red. If she had been wearing a dress instead of a softball uniform, she could have gone to a prom.

  "Is your mom still in the hospital?" Angela asked just before the meeting ended.

  "No, she’s home, but the doctors won’t let her go anywhere for the next several days."

  "Why not?"

  "They don’t want to take any chances. A concussion is a pretty serious thing."

  "So you and Sylvia are going to coach us?"

  "Don’t worry, gang," Sylvia assured them. "Jace and I can do the job."

  Lauren glanced at the Firebirds, who were taking fielding practice, and shrugged.

  "Against these guys, it won’t matter anyway."

  "Don’t say that, Lauren, we can beat this team," said Jace. "Hey, listen to me, all of you." Heads with ponytails and pigtails jerked toward him.

  "I know you want to beat this team, but just wanting to beat them isn’t enough. You have to believe you can win. Don’t let them scare you. They may be good, but they make mistakes. And their biggest mistake will be thinking they’re going to roll over us like they did in the first game. We’re not the same team we were then. Now we can win. Yeah, they’ll score some runs on us. So what? We can score runs on them, too. The key is to keep the game close and not let it get out-of-hand like last time."

  But the game nearly did get out-of-hand when the Firebirds plated three runs in the first inning and two more in the second. Their batters, often swinging at the first pitch, attacked the ball as if they had a grudge against it. Meanwhile, the Valkyries couldn’t get a runner past first base.

  When Corey prepared to take the mound to start the third, Jace called her back.

  "Let Tina pitch this inning," he said.

  "But I’m doing the best I can," Corey retorted. "I’ve only walked one batter."

  "I know and you’re doing a great job," said Jace. "Maybe I’ll put you back in later, but right now go take Tina’s place at third base and let her pitch."

  Corey trotted away, and Jace waved a hand toward Sylvia, who had the other Valkyries ready to take the field.

  "Send Tina over here."

  Sylvia looked puzzled, but she sent Tina over to where Jace was standing.

  "I want you on the mound this inning," Jace told Sylvia’s pig-tailed little sister. "Pitch as slow as you can. Get the ball over the plate, but just lob it so the batter has to wait.

  "Okay," said Tina, who then dashed away to carry out her orders.

  While Tina took her warm-up pitches, Sylvia came over to Jace.

  "What’s with putting Tina in now? I thought we were going with Corey for at least three innings."

  "It’s just a hunch, but I think the Firebirds will have trouble hitting Tina."

  "Why’s that?"

  "They’ve got a bunch of power-hitters itching to clobber the ball. But they’ll have to wait on Tina’s slow pitches, and I’m betting they can’t be that patient."

  Jace’s strategy seemed to work. The first batter struck out without even fouling off any pitches. The second ran the count to two-two, hit a foul tip that barely made it to the backstop, and then swung and missed a pitch well outside the strike zone. The batter slammed her bat on the ground before returning to the bench. It was clear that the Firebirds were unprepared for Tina’s slow, high-arching pitches that came straight down on the plate as if dropped from the sky.

  The third batter tried to be more patient. When the first two pitches came in too high, she let them go by without swinging. She fouled off the third pitch, took another ball, and then hit a hard foul that missed being fair by just a few feet.

  "Come on, Jerri, you can hit this pitcher. She’s no good," bellowed a man sitting in a lawn chair on the Firebirds’ side. He wore a green polo shirt and held a pop can in his hand. Other people also yelled encouragement to the batter, but this man’s voice rose over the rest.

  The next pitch was fouled off and so was the one after that. As she threw her next pitch, Tina seemed to lose her balance a little bit and lofted the ball almost straight up into the air. It was obvious that the ball would land a foot or two in front of the plate and send the batter to first base on a walk. But the girl could not resist the dropping sphere of leather that seemed so easy to hit. Lunging forward and extending her arms, she swung at the ball with all her might. Missing it, she lost her grip on the bat, letting it fly toward the pitcher’s mound like a wildly spinning minute hand falling off a giant clock. The bat lost most of its momentum before reaching the mound, but Tina side-stepped it just the same.

  As the umpire called "Strike Three," another man’s voice rang out, this time from the Valkyries’ side.

  "What’s a matter butterfingers? Too clumsy to hold your bat?"

  Jace looked over toward the speaker, but he already knew it was Mr. Davenport. He sat in a lawn chair a few feet behind the foul line on the third-base side.

  The batter ignored him and walked back to the bench, but several parents on the Firebird side shouted in anger. The ma
n in the green polo shirt went further. Rising from his chair, he took a few steps onto the field and pointed a finger at Mr. Davenport.

  "You better watch your mouth, buster, before someone shuts it for you," he snarled.

  "Hey, moron, shut your own mouth," Mr. Davenport fired back.

  Sensing the brewing conflict, the umpire stepped out from behind the plate.

  "Sir, please return to your seat and be quiet," he said, pointing to the green-shirted man. "And you also be quiet," he continued, swinging his finger toward Mr. Davenport.

  "Didn’t you hear what he said to my daughter?" exclaimed the Firebird father in anger.

  "Yes, and I also heard you say one of their players was ‘no good,’" the umpire retorted. "Now please return to your seat. I don’t want to hear either one of you say anything about the other team."

  Grumbling, the green-shirted man returned to his seat and the game continued. A combination of walks and infield singles enabled the Valkyries to push across a run in the bottom of the third, making the score five-one. In the top of the fourth, the Firebirds continued to struggle with Tina’s pitches, although they did manage to put a couple of runners on base with a walk and a single. The game tightened to five-three in the bottom of the fourth when the Valkyries scored two runs on back-to-back doubles by Corey and Angela, followed by an RBI single by Tina. Through it all, Jace saw a silent battle going on between Mr. Davenport and the green-shirted man; a battle fought with sneers, sarcastic smirks, and fist pumps. Jace could only hope that cooler heads prevailed once the game ended.

  In their half of the fifth inning, the Firebirds seemed to settle down and draw a bead on Tina’s pitches. The first batter ran the count to two-one before lining a single to left. The second followed suit with a single to center that sent the runner on first all the way to third. Jace called time out and started to walk toward the pitcher’s mound.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Sylvia.

  "Put Corey back on the mound. Now that they're used to Tina’s slow pitches, let’s see if they can hit faster pitches again."