PJ sprayed the water she was drinking down the front of her shirt. She was laughing so hard she fell over on Stephanie’s mother, who had no idea what was happening. Stephanie swallowed hard, smiled, and looked Geri Lee straight in the eye.
“I’m flattered by the invitation, but no, I am not available.”
This sent PJ into slapping her thigh guffaws. Stephanie’s mother, having heard her reply to Geri Lee, was chuckling as well. Geri Lee looked around Stephanie at PJ, shrugging her shoulders.
“What’s the matter with her?”
Stephanie looked at PJ and said, “Oh, I think we got her out of the hospital a little too soon.” She turned back to Geri Lee. “She’s been off her meds.”
“Oh, I understand that. When I forget to take mine I can be a real weirdo.” Geri Lee snorted a very unpleasant laugh and stood up. “Well, if you change your mind, my number’s on the team roster.”
Stephanie could barely keep from laughing, when she said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Geri Lee walked back to her seat, but not before she waved and winked at Stephanie. PJ was still immersed in convulsive laughter, leaning on Debra when Stephanie turned around.
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, Patrice.” Stephanie only called her that when PJ was being an ass. Even her hated name didn’t break PJ’s amusement. “Is it that funny that someone would hit on me?”
PJ panted to get air and fanned herself. Tears were running down her cheeks. She finally managed to say, “No, it was you throwing the chair through the window first.” She was overcome by the giggles and had to take a break, before adding, “Then the thing about Mo with a man.” More giggles were followed by, “I’m sorry, I could not stop myself,” before PJ lost it entirely.
Randy leaned up and said, “Would you behave down there? Their big hitter is first up to bat.”
Stephanie elbowed PJ in the side, for good measure, and turned her attention to the game. The opposing team’s fourth hitter in the lineup was a man-child at six-foot-three and a good two hundred and fifty pounds. He hit Colt’s pitches hard a couple of times during the regular season. Stephanie crossed her fingers.
“Ball!” The umpire called the first pitch outside.
Stephanie could tell Colt thought the pitch was a strike, but he went right back to the rubber. He prepared to throw again, nodding at the signal for the next pitch from Trevor. Colt rocked back and let go of a sweeping curve that buckled the batters knees and crossed the plate for a strike. Stephanie saw the slight grin Colt was trying to hide.
“Nice pitch, Pony Boy!” She yelled.
Just before Colt let the next pitch go, Stephanie saw Trevor move inside. They were going to brush the big guy off the plate. The pitch came so fast, Stephanie didn’t have time to finish the breath she took when she realized what the boys were doing. Brushing a guy back was a legitimate tactic in baseball, but if Colt miscalculated slightly, things could go bad in a hurry, and they did.
Colt threw another curve ball, but this one didn’t break. At least that’s what it looked like. The batter, having fallen for the first curve, dug in. The ball smacked him in the thigh, which thoroughly enraged him. He charged toward the mound, but was stopped by the umpire who ran out in front the batter. To Colt’s credit he stood his ground. Stephanie saw him say, “Sorry, man,” to the red-faced batter, who in all likelihood could have snapped Colt in two.
The batter went to first base without any further bravado. He was big and slow, not much of a threat to steal, but he kept dancing off first base far enough to draw a few throws from Colt. Trevor called timeout and went to the mound. The boys talked secretly, with mouths covered by their big leather gloves. A strategy agreed upon, play resumed.
Randy yelled out, “Come on, Colt. Fire that ball in there!”
Colt reared back and let fly with a fastball, but it wasn’t a strike. It was a chest high throw, off the plate, straight to Trevor who caught the pitchout in full stride and threw his own strike down the first base line. Wyatt, the first baseman, caught it and tagged the runner, as he slid face first back to the bag.
“Out!” The umpire behind the bag shouted. The stands erupted both pro and con. Colt snuck a look in the stands after congratulating Trevor on the throw. He grinned just for a second, but he had to keep his cool exterior intact for the opposition. Mo told him never to show up the other guy. It was bad sportsmanship and could get your ass kicked. Colt hit a home run once and mimicked some overpaid jerk in the major leagues, by dropping his bat and watching the ball go over the fence, before taking a leisurely stroll up the base line.
When Mo got him in the car after the game, she lit into him. “That was disrespectful. You’re a pitcher, you should know better. Not only that, it reflects badly on your character. Are you out there for personal glory or to help your team win?”
Colt, who was all of twelve said, “You don’t understand. It’s a guy thing.”
Mo had turned so she could look at Colt in the back seat. “No, it’s a jerk hung up on his own ego thing. It’s so much classier to drop the bat and start to first base, than stand there and preen for everyone. Act like you’ve been there before. Put your head down and come around the bases. Players will respect you more for that than being a self-serving asshole.”
Mo had talks like that with Colt often. She was the character builder, the one concerned that he knew the way to be a good man. Stephanie wanted the same things, she just didn’t have the same bond with Colt that Mo had. Mo was straight up - here are the facts - with Colt. She pulled no punches. They had a mutual respect for each other that Stephanie envied at times. Mo would have liked that last play. Stephanie suddenly remembered she needed to take pictures.
She excused herself. “I’m going down to field level and take some pictures.”
Randy, who was never good at sitting still for very long, offered, “I’ll come, too.”
The batter at the plate grounded out to the shortstop for the second out, before Stephanie and Randy reached the grass behind the backstop. They joined all the other parents filming from ground level, finding a spot near their team’s on-deck circle. Stephanie took shots during the next series of pitches. The first two were fastballs the batter swung at and missed. The next two pitches were balls. Colt was trying to get the batter to swing at a bad pitch. The last was a curve ball that landed in Trevor’s glove for strike three.
Colt ran by them to grab his bat. He smiled and high-fived Randy through the fence.
“Good job,” Randy said, and then warned, “Don’t dig in, you know they’re going to throw at you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Colt said, and then grinned mischievously. “But their pitcher gets tossed if he does hit me, so it’s all good.”
Colt jogged into the dugout to retrieve his bat. Stephanie took pictures while he loosened up in the on-deck circle, all the while praying this pitcher wouldn’t hit Colt in the face, or in the chest and stop his heart.
“Stop it,” Randy said. “I know you want to say something motherly, just don’t.”
“Okay, I won’t say anything, unless he gets hurt. Then I’m going to say what a macho asshole tradition it is for the pitcher to purposely retaliate for a player being accidently hit with a pitch.”
Randy laughed. “You think he accidently hit that guy? You really don’t understand baseball. The last time he hit off Colt, he crowded the plate. He’s also prone to losing his temper. What better way to get rid of a potential homerun hitter and mess with his head for the rest of the game? He may not have thrown at him, but he’s not sorry he hit him. Coming inside like that, he knew it was a distinct possibility.”
Stephanie answered, “At least it was an off-speed pitch, no intent detected by the umpire.”
“Ah, so you do comprehend more than you let on.”
“Yes, Randy. I let Mo do the coaching and I watch, but I do understand the game and all its nuances. I am not clueless. Don’t let the blond hair fool you.”
“Wow.
Where did that come from?” Randy asked, taking a step back from her.
“Oh, it’s been an interesting evening already,” Stephanie said, looking over her shoulder at the stands. “It’s amazing how a neighborhood can be so much like a small town.”
“What did the team moms want?”
“Well, apparently, Mo and I have split up, she’s living with a man in LA, and I throw furniture through windows. Also, we both have prospective dates if this doesn’t work out.”
“Damn, I knew I should have sat by you. I saw PJ dying over there, but I couldn’t hear any of it.”
Stephanie changed the camera on her phone to video mode and prepared to film Colt’s at-bat. She kept talking while she fiddled with the phone.
“Thankfully, the two of them were almost discreet, except for letting PJ hear them. Still, I believe Mo and I are now the center of team gossip, thanks to our son’s need to share.”
Stephanie aimed the camera at Colt, when he stepped into the batter’s box.
Randy chuckled. “At least you have options if your marriage does fall apart. Molly made no bones about how she felt. She’d take you back tomorrow. Just say the word. Which one of the mothers was after you?”
Stephanie kept the camera focused on Colt. The first pitch was inside for ball one. They were going to hit him, no doubt about it. She was concentrating on Colt, but she answered Randy.
“Geri Lee would like me to come over to her house for coffee and a romp, if I’m so inclined.”
The next pitch was even further inside. Colt was in the back corner of the batter’s box, not his usual stance. He anticipated the pitch correctly and moved before it nailed him.
Randy was watching closely, even though he kept talking. He yelled, “Good eye, Colt!” and then lowered his voice again. “Who knows, Steph, maybe that’s what you need, a good ol’ non-emotional romp in the hay?”
Stephanie’s laugh shook the camera, so she quieted it before saying, “If I was going to sleep with someone, it would be Molly, not Geri Lee. No telling where that thing has been.”
“So, you have thought about it,” Randy said, in an accusing tone.
“Yes,” Stephanie said, giving up the fight. “I did think about what Molly said. Are you satisfied?”
The third pitch came toward the plate and there was no doubt it was meant to hit Colt. He turned at just the right second and took a glancing blow across his left shoulder. He did not look toward the mound. Colt simply dropped his bat and jogged to first base, while the umpire tossed the pitcher and the coach from the other team. Retaliation was strictly forbidden in the league, especially such a blatant throw at a player’s head. The other coach had deemed it necessary to lose his ace pitcher over nothing more than pride. Stephanie understood the game, but sometimes not its egocentric behaviors.
Colt never rubbed the spot where the ball hit him. He stood on first base suppressing a grin. Randy left her alone for a few minutes while Stephanie typed a text message and sent the video to Mo. She then sent the stills she took of Colt, which took almost the whole time the new pitcher warmed up. Just as she hit send on the last photo, a text message from Mo popped up on the screen.
“You do know that your camera records audio with the video, don’t you?”
The second player stepped into the batter’s box just as Stephanie reacted to Mo’s text. “Oh, my God!” Stephanie shouted so loud a few people turned to look. She smiled and said, “Big bug, sorry.”
She held the phone up so Randy could read the message.
“How much of what we just said did I record?” Stephanie asked.
“I don’t know, play it back.”
Stephanie hit play on the video and held it up so they could both lean close and listen. The next batter was up, but this was a pressing issue. Stephanie wanted to know what Mo heard. About halfway through the video, she turned it off. She knew Mo heard her say she thought about sleeping with Molly, without listening to any more. She typed in a reply.
“Sorry, you were not supposed to hear that.”
Randy looked over her shoulder and said, “Oh, you just missed a golden opportunity to mess with her.”
“I don’t want to mess with her, Randy, not like that. I don’t want her thinking about me with someone else. I want her thinking about why this happened in the first place.”
“It happened because she found someone else sexy and exciting. Maybe finding out other women think you are desirable will remind Mo you are all that and more.”
The batter struck out swinging, momentarily drawing Stephanie’s attention before another text arrived from Mo.
“Thanks for the pictures. Is he all right? That didn’t hit him too hard, did it?”
Stephanie replied, “He’s fine. The pitcher got tossed.”
Randy was quiet during the next few pitches. Colt was now wearing a jacket to keep his arm warm, while he waited just off first base. The batter hit a line drive back at the pitcher. Colt dove back into first to avoid the third out.
Another message from Mo vibrated Stephanie’s phone. “I’m trying to pretend I didn’t hear all that, but I did. I guess the rumors are flying. I haven’t been gone forty-eight hours and they’re after you already. I don’t blame them for trying.”
Stephanie smiled and replied. “That’s okay, since you left me for your new boyfriend in LA, I guess they think I’m in need of comforting.”
The third batter of the inning struck out on three pitches and the teams exchanged places. The next message from Mo arrived just seconds after Colt retook the mound.
“What? Are you kidding me? LOL”
Stephanie had fallen back into talking to Mo with ease and realized it. She typed, “Colt pitching now. Will send more pics later.”
Randy read over her shoulder, as she typed. He chuckled. “Remembered you were mad, huh?”
“Just hush and watch the game.”
With the opposing team’s best pitcher out of the game, Colt’s team started to hit the ball. He had a three to nothing lead going into the fourth inning. Stephanie took pictures and sent them to Mo, but refused to answer any text messages from her. Finally, Mo gave up and commented only on the pictures with no reply expected. Colt had given up three hits, but no runs. His team played good defense behind him. This inning he faced the top of the order again.
The first batter laid down the perfect bunt and beat out the throw to first. The next batter went down swinging, but the runner on first stole second base. The third hitter connected with the first pitch, sending it whizzing toward Wyatt at first base. Wyatt fielded the ball and tagged the bag, holding the runner on second. Two outs, with the guy Colt hit earlier up to bat. They couldn’t walk him and put the tying run at the plate. Colt had to pitch to him.
“Colt can’t overpower this guy,” Randy said. “He’s going to have to out think him.”
“Yep,” Stephanie replied, the tension evident in her voice.
The coach called timeout and walked to the mound. The infield players ran in for the conference.
“Hello, Stephanie,” a male voice said.
She was so concentrated on Colt, Stephanie did not see Jordan’s father walk up beside her. Todd Ressler gave Stephanie the creeps. He was good looking, but a sleazy womanizer that always looked at her and Mo as if he were imagining a threesome. Stephanie suppressed the desire to shudder. She faked a smile.
“Hello, Todd. Are you here to pick up Jordan?”
Todd had no boys playing ball. He rarely picked up his daughter. More than likely, he was trolling for a lonely woman, which he did often. Stephanie didn’t have to wait long for verification.
“No, I was looking for you actually. I did talk to Jordan today. She told me Colt was pitching. She also told me you and Mo split up, and I wanted to offer to take you to dinner. I know how stressful this part of a breakup can be.”
Randy sang under his breath, “Word gets around in a small, small town.”
The meeting on the mound broke up and the
players resumed their positions. Stephanie kept her eyes on Colt, while responding to Todd’s comment.
“Since my personal life has become the topic of the day, I guess I have no choice but to respond. Mo and I did not split up. She is in LA working on a project. We had a disagreement. My son is overly concerned and the rumor mill of wolves in the stands has blown this completely out of proportion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to watch my son pitch.”
Todd bounced on the balls of his feet. “No problem. You know I used to pitch in high school.”
Stephanie ignored Todd and watched as Colt threw the first pitch. It was the same sweeping curve that buckled the big guy's knees in the first inning. It also looked like the pitch that hit him, until it broke across the plate for a strike on the inside corner. The batter stepped out of the box and glared at Colt. The next pitch was a fastball low and away, sucker pitch for a guy with a big swing and pent up frustration. The batter nearly twisted in two, missing the ball for another strike. Stephanie and the rest of the team supporters cheered loudly. The next two pitches were two-seam fastballs out of the strike zone on the outside of the plate, making the count two and two.
Todd added his unwanted commentary. “Smart kid. He’s trying to get him to swing at bad pitches.”
Stephanie forgot she didn’t like Todd for a moment. “Now, he has to throw a strike. He doesn’t want to go full count on this guy. The runner would take off on the next pitch.”
“Wow!” Todd said, grinning seductively. “Pretty and you know baseball. My dream woman.”
Stephanie was in no mood for Todd. She faced him and said, “Todd, I am sure there are women who would be flattered by your attention, but you’re wasting your time here.”
Todd’s ego was bigger than his brain. “I just thought you might need a little company. I heard you were looking for a man.”
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