Calytrix

by Chris Keniston

  Floyd unwrapped the towel and exchanged it for a fresh hot one.

  Ralph shrugged. “She can practice all she wants. The next real test is just over a week away and the one after that isn’t until September. The longer this takes the fewer scholarships are going to be left to hand out.”

  That did explain why everyone seemed so desperate for her to improve quickly, but he didn’t realize the poor kid had the whole town standing over her like an executioner at the Tower of London. On top of that, it was pretty clear that the same town expected him to make a difference. The pressure was on.

  The General stared pointedly at his friend. “I have faith in both Zane and Deidra. A little determination and a lot of perseverance will go a long way.”

  Until a shoulder blows out.

  “Speaking of perseverance,” Ralph spoke, “did you hear that the faculty are down three for the big game?”

  Big game?

  “They can still play down a few men,” Floyd said, removing the hot towel from Zane’s face. “It’s baseball, not tennis.”

  “Yeah, but the varsity team players are half the age of most of the teachers with twice the energy,” Ralph almost whined. “Can’t afford to tire the faculty out too soon.”

  Without the towel, Zane could see Floyd roll his eyes. Not knowing a whole lot more, Zane tended to think Floyd was right, but with his face now covered in thick lather, he didn’t dare contribute to the conversation.

  “You have a good arm,” the General’s voice carried across the room.

  Zane hoped he wasn’t talking to him.

  “You did a great job of catching the football and my granddaughter the other day.”

  Great, he was talking about him.

  “It’s the baseball team that needs help,” the other man chimed in, “not the football team.”

  “If you’re good at one sport, you’re good at most.”

  Zane knew plenty of people who would disagree with him. One famous basketball star and his failed baseball career popped into his head.

  “I think now that he’s officially tutoring, it would be perfectly acceptable for Zane to step in and help out the faculty team.”

  With a single edge blade angled at his throat, Zane didn’t dare speak or move, but he wasn’t liking the direction this conversation was taking. He didn’t play ball anymore. Ever.

  “Could be,” Ralph added.

  “Good. You’re on the school board. Make it so.”

  Why did the General and his grandfather have to be so commanding? They both had a way of making any comment sound like an order. If Zane didn’t know better, he’d swear the old man waited to add his two cents until Zane couldn’t refuse.

  “Consider it done,” Ralph said with more enthusiasm than he’d shown for any conversation so far this afternoon. And wasn’t that just Zane’s luck. Or not.

  ***

  Who knew a baby could make everyone so excited. Once they all stopped squealing and hugging over Iris’s news, Lucy came into the room with a fresh pot of coffee and warmed nuts and the whole happy-fest started all over again.

  Today all Callie could think about was if the baby would be a boy or a girl. Either way, she would be there to teach the kid how to handle a ball. She’d already found herself perusing through the shops downtown and gravitating toward t-ball and Nerf sets.

  “Well, you’re home early from practice,” Lucy said.

  “The boy’s varsity team had it scheduled the same time we did. They won.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Lucy lifted her chin in the direction of the bag Callie held in her hand. “What’ve you got there?”

  She shrugged casually. “I may have done a little shopping.”

  “The bag might have been my first clue.” Lucy chuckled, then spotted the boutique name. “Ooh. Let me see.”

  For the next twenty minutes, as each family member gathered in the heart of the home—the kitchen—they cooed and gurgled over infant clothes, stuffed toys, singing elephants, and story-telling puppies. This kid was going to be so spoiled.

  The porch door slammed again and Zane came in, his expression more stern than she’d seen before.

  “Is the General home yet?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Must be a busy afternoon at Floyds.”

  “Mm,” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” Surrounded by massive strips of fabric, Grams paused her handiwork, waiting for his response.

  Zane forced a smile. “Nothing much. The General wants me to help with a project.”

  “You mean the annual game between faculty and students?” Poppy neatly folded one of the baby blankets someone had bought. “I heard you agreed to play. Good for you. The faculty have been dropping like flies with summer flu.”

  “You’re playing.” Lucy dropped the outfit she was holding.

  “Well…” He hesitated.

  “Baseball,” Lucy muttered, her eyes growing wide and her voice stronger. “You’re going to play baseball. Here?”

  “Well…” he started again.

  “Oh. My. Lord.” Lucy slapped one hand against her cheek and the other flat on her heart. “Oh. My. The Zane Crandall is going to be playing ball here.”

  “Well…” he tried again, this time waving his hands, palms open in front of him.

  There was no point. Lucy was excitement on steroids. Something had her almost apoplectic. “19 and 5, 255K, 1 point—”

  “Lucy.” Color drained from Zane’s face and his eyes closed tightly, he firmly cut the rambling woman off.

  Stunned, the housekeeper looked up. “What?”

  “I think you’re getting all worked up over nothing.”

  “But—”

  Callie sidestepped closer to him. “What is going on here?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered and took two long strides in Lucy’s direction, letting his hand fall on her shoulder. “It’s unlikely I’ll be able to help the General out,” he said quickly.

  “Oh.” All Lucy’s excitement evaporated in a flash. “I see.”

  Zane sucked in a breath so deep, Callie could hear it from where she stood. “Now, what smells so delicious?”

  “Oh, that’s my beef stew.” Lucy cheered up slightly.

  “With baby carrots?”

  Lucy nodded. A hint of a smile teased her features.

  “I love stew with carrots and potatoes and fresh bread.”

  Lucy’s shoulders straightened. “Then you’re in for a treat. We’ve got fresh baked from Lily’s Pastry Stop.”

  “Homemade? Wow.” Zane’s brows arched high over wide eyes.

  Callie had a feeling he was putting on a little show to offset whatever had just gone down between him and Lucy. And from the bounce in her step and grin on her face, Callie would guess it had worked. Now if she could figure out what the heck had just happened.

  Chapter Nine

  Sitting near the end of the dining table, Zane marveled at the family around him. One of the perks of being the grandson of the General’s longtime friend meant being included in all things like he too was one of the family.

  “So your grandfather and my grandfather reconnected at that reunion?” Callie asked.

  “Reunion?” he repeated.

  “No.” The General cleared his throat. “Raymond and I have kept in touch through the years. More so since we retired.”

  “Has he been to the lake?” Lily asked.

  “Ugh, no.” The General coughed lightly, wiping his napkin over his mouth.

  “Funny.” Zane thought a moment. “He gave me such detailed directions from memory on how to get here the day he invited me. I would have sworn he’d been here often.”

  “Maybe he simply planned to and never did.” Poppy smiled. “He may have memorized the map since the General’s generation doesn’t believe in GPS.”

  “Of course we do,” her grandfather sputtered. “The military has used GPS since long before your generation had a clue what it even was.”

  “Now, don’
t work yourself into a tizzy.” Mrs. Hart gently redirected her husband.

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” The old man smiled at his wife and Zane had to smother a grin of his own at how much Mrs. Hart reminded him of his grandmother. Both able to calm their high energy men with a soft word.

  “I bet Zane’s grandfather is looking forward to seeing the lake in person.” Callie looked to her grandfather.

  “I suppose,” the General muttered. “Too bad he’s not going to be here in time for the big baseball game.”

  And just like that Zane was reminded of the downside of close-knit friendships. When it came to participating in community events, he too was treated like one of the family. Including expectations. What he hadn’t yet been able to figure out was how to explain to the patriarch of a modern day version of the famed TV Walton family that he did not want to play ball.

  “I’ve got Oma’s plum pastry for dessert. Who wants a slice?” Lucy held a glass baking dish in her hands and the aroma of the strudel-like contents had his mouth watering.

  Several hands shot up at the same time, chairs pushed back, and family members stood carrying plates and dishes off to the kitchen, and bringing back small dessert dishes with extra silverware.

  “Nice big piece for you?” Lucy scooped out a mound of crisp crumbling dessert and slid the plate in front of him.

  “Thank you.” The still warm indulgence melted in his mouth. “Oh, man.”

  Sitting beside him, Callie smiled. “Not bad huh?”

  “Better than not bad. What is it?” He stabbed at the plate again. At this rate he was going to need to double his workouts in order to keep from rolling home at the end of next week.

  “The recipe was handed down from my grandmother’s grandmother. So we call it Oma’s plum pastry. Mostly because no one can pronounce the real name.”

  “That bad?”

  Callie nodded. “Worse.”

  “She’s not kidding.” Lily waved a fork in his direction. “I’ve learned how to spell it, but there is not a person in this room who can pronounce it. Z-w-e-t-s-c-h-g-e—”

  “Stop.” He raised his hand. “I believe you. Oma’s plum pastry sounds like a great name for it.”

  “Glad you agree.” Callie smiled. “Otherwise we could be here all night with a German lesson.”

  Flipping his wrist, he glanced at the time. It was later than he’d thought.

  “What time is Deidra coming tonight?” Callie kept her gaze on her dwindling dessert. Had she really known what he was thinking about, or was it just a lucky guess?

  “As soon as her family’s done with their supper she’ll be over. I offered to meet her somewhere closer to town. The library or something. But she seems to like coming out here.”

  “For as long as I’ve been teaching, the kids love to hang out around here. Mostly the beachfront makes for a great teen hangout. Actually, anywhere on the Point does.”

  “The Point?”

  “The strip of land we played football on the other day.”

  “Oh. Right.” It was kind of nice to hear. He didn’t think kids today wanted to spend time outdoors as much as stay in and play with their phones or gaming devices.

  Callie picked up her empty dish and pushed away from the table. “Do you want me to take that for you or would you like another slice?”

  As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t resist. “Maybe I’ll cut a small piece.”

  “Tell you what. You go ahead onto the porch to wait for Deidra and I’ll bring you a slice there. And,” she waved his protest back, “I promise not to give you a piece the size of Mount Everest.”

  “Thanks.” He didn’t know how she’d done it again, but she somehow seemed to know where his mind was going. Was he that predictable, or was she that good at reading people? Or was it just reading him?

  Watching her chat with her siblings on her way to the kitchen, he had to force himself not to follow. He didn’t need to get attached to her or this place, no matter how friendly and enticing any of it seemed. Only a few steps outside and he settled on the top step. Once again, the stars were bright and the air was fresh. Who was he kidding? He really could get used to this.

  ***

  Sitting on the step staring up, Callie wondered what was that man thinking. Handing him a dish, she sat down beside him. “You were the topic of conversation in the kitchen.”

  “Me?” His eyes flew open and she thought she saw a hint of panic.

  “Everyone seems quite pleased with how the tutoring is going.”

  His shoulders eased, and was that relief flashing across his face? “So I heard at the barber shop.”

  “Even her math teacher says she’s been more attentive and involved in class.”

  Stabbing at the pastry, he paused, the fruit slipping from his fork. “It’s only been two days.”

  Callie shrugged. “I’m just repeating what I was told.”

  “From what I’ve heard around town today, it seems to matter to everyone that she make it into college on a scholarship. As much as I’d love the idea of making a real difference, this early in the game all the conjecture might just be wishful thinking on everybody else’s part.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe all you are is the mathematical equivalent of a sugar pill, but either way, I’ll take it.”

  “Sugar pill?”

  “You know, placebo. It’s all in the mind. The man who thinks he can and the man who thinks he can’t are both right.”

  “Got it.” He took another mouthful of the dessert.

  Twirling her college ring around on her finger, Callie considered what she wanted to say next. He’d nearly cleaned his plate by the time she looked over at him. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what that odd math conversation earlier between you and Lucy was all about?”

  “Did she say something?”

  She shook her head. Everyone was too excited talking about Deidra and the upcoming baby, mostly at the same time.

  His fork settled on the nearly empty dish. “Was it that noticeable?”

  “To anyone paying attention.” She had run her mind around the earlier scene and come up empty, except for a similar reaction from Lucy before. “Does this have anything to do with also cutting her excitement off the first night you arrived?”

  He stabbed at the last bite of dessert. “Maybe.”

  “Lucy seems to be onto something that you don’t seem to want her to share.”

  Setting his plate to one side, Zane glanced out onto the lake and then slowly took in the area around them.

  “If it’s none of my business,” she started, “you can just say so. I promise I won’t ask again.”

  Hands folded together, leaning forward slightly, he nodded as if talking himself into something before facing her. “When I was in seventh grade my baseball coach noticed I could pitch at nearly 90 mph.”

  Callie whistled. “Not bad.”

  “No. Not bad. And by the end of high school I was pretty darn good at not bad.”

  “Okay.” Callie chuckled. “That made no sense.”

  The side of his mouth tipped up in a half-hearted smile. “Deidra reminds me of me.”

  “Really?” She didn’t have a clue where he was going with this.

  He nodded. “Yeah. She can really throw a ball. Any ball.”

  “That she can.”

  “My senior year of high school, I did a summer camp with coaches from the major leagues. In order to see what a kid had, they’d play us in different positions. Even though I was a pitcher, I could play anywhere on the field.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you were very good anywhere.”

  For a moment, he seemed to go back in time, his smile reaching his eyes. “Yeah. You could say that.”

  “Go on.”

  “One day I was playing left field when the runner on third started inching away from the base. I knew what he was up to. And sure enough, the minute he took off for home plate, I threw the ball to the catcher.”

&
nbsp; “No cutoff man?”

  “Nope. Catcher caught it in the breadbasket. I knew he would. Kid was out. Then the third base coach from California came up to me and said, “You knew you were going to do that?” When I played dumb, he repeated, “You knew he was going to steal home and you knew you were going to reach the catcher to get him out.” I shrugged, mumbled “maybe” and he laughed, saying, “No maybe about it. When he started running you smiled.”

  “Like you smiled a minute ago?”

  A twinkle in his eye, he smiled again. “Probably.”

  “Sounds like you were more than pretty good.”

  “Good enough for the pros.”

  She hadn’t expected that. Maybe a full ride, what Deidra was hoping for, but not that. “Those were baseball stats Lucy was spouting out. Your stats.”

  He nodded again. “My last year. I only played two seasons. Since I didn’t play for Boston, no one around here would have any reason to have followed my brief career. Lucy may just be my only fan. I’m sort of surprised after all this time anyone still remembers me, never mind my stats right down to my ERA.”

  “Probably her favorite team. Only two seasons?”

  He nodded.

  “But you wanted more?” It wasn’t really a question.

  Looking away, he let out a low sigh. “Blew out my elbow. Had Tommy John surgery. Rehabbing from that, I must have babied it too much, blew out my shoulder. It was all downhill from there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “I got my chance at a dream. That’s more than most people get.”

  “That’s why you want to help Deidra have her chance.”

  “She’s a nice kid. That’s reason enough.”

  “But I don’t get why you don’t want to play ball with the faculty.”

  “I haven’t played baseball since I left the locker room at the stadium. Heck, I don’t even know if I can still throw a ball.”

  “Well, you can certainly catch one.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “Don’t tell me that. There are folks who couldn’t catch a beach ball if it landed in their lap.”