The Set Piece

by Catherine Lane

  “Your destination is on the right.” The GPS interrupted her pointless reflections.

  Amy pulled up before a traditional California ranch house laid out on one level. An open wooden fence ran the length of the lawn. Pink balloons were tied to the mailbox, and a huge “IT’S A GIRL” banner hung in the lounge window. Stephanie greeted Amy at the door with a smile and a quick hug.

  “Your home is lovely,” Amy said, handing her the gift-wrapped children books she had picked up on the way over.

  “Oh, this is my sister’s house. Brandon and I live in an apartment closer to the stadium. It’s not as nice as this,” Steph said lightly, as if it didn’t matter, but Amy was again reminded of the inequity between the players’ wages. “Come out to the back. That’s where everyone is.”

  Atoms’ wives and girlfriends and many people Amy didn’t recognize were crammed onto the brick patio and small green lawn. Cyndy saw her as soon as she stepped out into the grass and waved her over.

  “Yoo-hoo, honey. Over here. Come join us.” Amy joined the small group sitting under a pergola, heavy with purple wisteria.

  “It’s like twenty degrees cooler over here in the shade.” Karla, the goalkeeper’s wife, scooted over to make room.

  Cyndy jumped up to give Amy a quick continental kiss on both cheeks. “This whole shindig seemed like a much better idea when I RSVP’d in the cool air conditioning of my house. It never gets this hot back home.”

  “It used to never get this hot here.” Karla laughed and wiped her brow for effect.

  “Suck it up, ladies. It always heats up right around the play-offs,” said another woman whose name Amy had forgotten.

  “Let’s hope you’re talking about more than the weather.” Cyndy said. “I’m not sure how many more seasons Scotty has in him. I’d like to see him go out on top.”

  “From your lips, Cyndy. From your lips.”

  A woman who looked so like Stephanie it had to be her sister appeared at the edge of the lawn. “Ladies, there’s cake and games inside. Follow me.”

  Amy had never been to a baby shower before. Her friends just weren’t in that stage of life, and she didn’t know what to expect when Stephanie’s sister led her little group into the den. Certainly not the games that followed. Ten opened newborn diapers sat on the coffee table, full of dark gooey stuff.

  “What’s that?” Amy was appalled.

  “Chocolate. Why? What’d you think?” Cyndy laughed. “Oh, sweetie, I forget how young you are.” Amy bristled. “Don’t be mad. I’d give my right arm to be offended if someone told me I was too young,” Cyndy said. “I spent most of my early twenties and all of my teens trying to act older than I was.” A wistful look came into her eyes. “Enjoy it while you can, because believe me, it passes too soon. Come on. Let’s play.” Cyndy picked up the diaper closest to her and brought the gooey mess up to her nose. “Mint crème!”

  She handed the diaper to Amy. “Give it a shot, but I’m warning you, I’m pretty good at this game.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Smell it, and see if you can tell what the flavor the dirty nappy is.”

  “Okay.” Amy put her nose close to the mess. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t being played for a fool.

  “You’re right, it’s mint crème.” Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “I’m going to give you a run for your money.”

  “Game on.”

  They went diaper for diaper. Milk chocolate, peanut butter, caramel, dark chocolate, coffee chocolate. Amy identified each one easily until they got to the last one. The dark and familiar scent stumped Amy until the last second when she pulled the answer out of her hat. “Hershey’s syrup!”

  “She’s right,” Stephanie’s sister said.

  “I’ve met my match.” Cyndy conceded defeat.

  “Young nose.” Amy laughed. “And I’m American.”

  “You got me on both accounts.”

  The other games ran the gamut from guessing the names of the baby to decorating newborn onesies with fabric paint. Finally, all played out, Stephanie’s guests plopped down on the sectional sofa in the den and grabbed a cupcake from a tray on the coffee table.

  “Careful, ladies. One of these cupcakes contains a surprise. Hope you’re the winner.”

  “What’s the surprise?” Amy turned to Cyndy.

  “Just eat it gingerly. You’ll know it if you bite down on it.”

  Amused, she bit down into the center of her cupcake into something hard. “What the hell?” She fished around in her mouth and pulled out a tiny plastic baby.

  “Amy got it!” Cyndy pointed a finger at the chocolate covered baby on Amy’s palm.

  “I did. What’d I win?”

  The whole group broke into peals of laughter. “Tell her,” someone said.

  Cyndy gave a shrug. “You’re the next one to have a baby.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not.” Amy dropped the plastic baby as if it were a hot coal.

  There was more laughter. “Too late. The baby never lies. I got it at Karla’s shower and look.” Stephanie rubbed her baby bump.

  Karla nodded. “Somehow the baby always ends up with the right person.”

  Amy turned bright red.

  “Amy? Do you and Diego want to tell us something?”

  “We’re not even married yet!” And never will be.

  “Leave her alone.” Cyndy patted her on her knee and gave her a motherly glance.

  Stephanie started opening her presents. A soft, snuggly blanket patterned like a black and white soccer ball was followed by the cutest little cleats that Amy had ever seen. There were various outfits that would make Stephanie’s little girl the best dressed baby on the planet. Stephanie finally pulled back the wrapping on a scrapbook full of photographs all lovingly put together by her friend Emily.

  “I thought maybe when the baby is grown-up, she might want to see what you and Brandon were like before she came along,” Emily said shyly.

  “This is lovely, Emily. Thank you.”

  The scrapbook made the rounds, and when it got to Amy she flipped through it just to be polite. Emily was a true crafter, though, and each page sported a different theme created with stickers and hand-drawn lettering. Amy didn’t know most of the people in the photographs until she got to a page with Diego on it. She zeroed in on the photograph immediately. Diego, Stephanie, and her husband Brandon stood outside a stadium. Diego was in the middle of the group and his arms were wrapped around his friends. They all looked incredibly happy.

  “He’s very handsome, your man. Isn’t he.” Cyndy said softly.

  “Yes. He is.” But that wasn’t what she was looking at. She was sure she had never seen this picture of the three of them before, yet it seemed very familiar. Diego and friends outside the Atoms’ stadium. It niggled at her. Where had she seen this before? And then it hit her like a thousand soccer balls. She had seen it before, except Stephanie and Brandon had been photoshopped for two very gay men.

  “Stephanie? Who took this picture? The one of Diego and you guys.” The scrapbook was her first clue. If she could follow the trail of the picture from who took it and how it got to Emily, she might able to ferret out who was sending the pictures to Horowitz’s office. “I’d love a copy,” she added. She held the scrapbook up to show Stephanie the picture. “Look at that smile.”

  Stephanie nodded. “Oh, that one. Diego did. It was on a timer, I think. He was playing with his new camera.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it was after the Seattle game. Brandon had given Diego two assists, and after the game he and Diego were just goofing around. Diego had a new camera so we took a picture. He should have a copy if you really want one.”

  “Thanks. I’ll ask him.”

  “I may have an extra one,” Emily said, from the other side of the room. “I sent out an e-mail t
o the players, and they sent me their pictures of Stephanie and Brandon. I could print one up for you.”

  “Oh, that would be really great.” Her mind spun in a million directions. The chatter started up around her again, but the fun and games were over for Amy.

  The second she got back home, she went looking for Diego. She found him on a rare day off, in the kitchen downing another one of his green drinks.

  “Want some?” He held out the glass to her. He wore tight running shorts and a cut-off top. He had just come from the gym. Amy made a mental note to tell Knight that Diego should dress more like a jock even in his own home.

  “No thanks.” She made a funny face. “I like my greens whole and sautéed in a lot of butter.”

  Diego pointed to the hallway and mouthed, “Tammy.” Amy nodded and switched into #Amiego mode. They were in the middle of another command performance.

  “You sure? It’ll put hair on your chest,” he joked.

  “I don’t think either of us would like that. You drink it.”

  “Your loss.” He knocked the slushy green liquid back in one gulp. “How was the party?”

  “Good. I got the baby.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I got the plastic baby in my cupcake. It means that I’m the next one in the group to get pregnant.”

  Diego’s eyes widened. He took two quick steps back as if she’d announced she had the bubonic plague. Amy stifled a laugh. He must really think I’m fishing for a baby. She tipped her head subtly to the hall, but Diego was so wrapped up in his panic he didn’t see.

  “Not now, of course. When we’re married.” She gave him a pointed stare and another subtle head tilt to the hallway where she could have sworn she heard a slight rustle. “I thought you’d be happy. You told me you couldn’t wait to have kids. Remember?” Tammy was too shrewd and unless Diego started playing along there was no way she would buy this.

  “Yes.” Understanding flooded his eyes. “But we never really talked about how many. I come from a family of four, as you know.”

  Amy laughed. “Slow down, slugger. There was only one baby in the cupcake.”

  Diego laughed with her. Amy rapped the granite countertop with her knuckles. That should be enough for Tammy to chew on for a while. She made a move to go when Diego called her back.

  “One seems like a lonely number for a kid growing up.” Diego’s expression turned thoughtful. Amy wondered if suddenly they were having a real conversation. The appeal of not having to watch all her words and innuendos grabbed her; she jumped into her answer with both feet.

  “I never knew anything different, but yeah, looking back, I guess it was lonely.” She shrugged. “And now that my parents are gone, this is when I really wish I had a brother or sister around.” Diego closed the gap between them and rubbed her shoulder. A shadow moved in the hallway, and Amy leaned into his comfort for greater effect.

  “How many do you really want?” she asked.

  “Two, maybe. You?”

  “I don’t know. Two sounds good. A boy and a girl.”

  “I think, maybe,” he said, dropping his voice, “I’d be a good dad.”

  “Oh, Diego, you’ll be a great father.” And she meant it, too. He would dote on his kids. Suddenly, she saw herself in Horowitz’s shiny glass office signing a new addendum to the contract. Her throat constricted a little.

  “But not right now. I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life first.” If they were really having this conversation in this real/fake way she might as well lay it all on the line.

  “And what is that?”

  “Well, I’ve actually been thinking about that homework, soccer club thing we talked about. Are you still up for that?”

  “I am. Paul said he would run a feasibility study on it,” Diego said.

  Amy knew she shouldn’t hold her breath. There was no way that Knight was going to invest in her, someone who wasn’t in this for the long haul. But it was a nice thought.

  “With the right result the club could be up and running within six months,” Diego said.

  “Wow. That’s great news.” Amy was surprised how fast things could move when Diego really wanted them. She wanted to ask more questions, maybe even ask him to put pressure on Knight to deliver, but Diego’s attention had drifted back to their earlier conversation. It had really captivated him.

  “We would have beautiful kids, though.” He’d gone all fanciful on her again.

  “Yeah, we would. But they better have your left foot. Mine’s a dud.” Amy tried a humor injection to steer him back on track.

  “Okay, and have your pull-back vee. You got great timing on that move. I saw it when we were at the park.”

  “I practiced that move every day after school for a year straight until I got it. It’s all about the speed.”

  “You know most couples would talk about who has the best nose or eyes to pass on.”

  “Well, we’re not most couples.”

  Diego ignored the double meaning. “You’re telling me that that our kids can be ugly as sin itself if they got game.”

  “Yep. That’s what I’m telling you. Although your smile wouldn’t hurt.”

  Diego took the cue and turned on his smile.

  “Yeah. That one, for sure,” Amy said.

  They settled against the counter comfortably. Were they actually becoming friends, or were they just playing this game a little too well now?

  “Let’s go upstairs. I want to give you a proper good night before I leave for Boston tomorrow.” He darted a look to the hallway and grabbed her hand.

  Amy put her best dreamy face on and reached up to give Diego a kiss on the cheek. If Tammy was watching this, the picture of a loving couple running upstairs would cast out all doubts she had about separate breakfasts. Someone scuttled away from the hallway before they entered.

  Halfway up Amy pulled her hand free. “Oh, I forgot my purse. You go. I’ll catch up.”

  She skipped down the stairs and darted back into the kitchen. The room was darker now as dusk was falling, but she could see her purse hanging from the back of the chair. She reached for it, and her hand stilled. Her skin prickled. She wasn’t alone.

  A figure leaned on the island with her head cradled in her hands. It was Casey. Could it be that Tammy hadn’t been lurking in the hall, at all? Had it been Casey the whole time?

  Casey looked up slowly and met Amy’s gaze. Her eyes were the palest blue Amy had ever seen. Hurt, confusion, or maybe a mixture of both poured from them. Amy’s heart dropped with a thud.

  “You were the one in the hall?”

  Casey nodded. A bright flush crept into her cheeks.

  Amy closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say it like that, as if she knew that Casey had been there all along. All of a sudden the conversation with Diego, which had seemed so clever when she thought Tammy was the eavesdropper, now seemed flat out mean. Casey was in love with Diego. Mia had practically announced it to the entire golf course on their grand day out. And now Amy had driven the stake farther into Casey’s heart with all this baby nonsense. It took all Amy had not to pull Casey in her arms and smooth away the pain. Not that it would’ve worked. Casey wanted Diego, not her.

  “I forgot my purse,” she said. It was all she could manage.

  “I wasn’t…I mean, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to hear all that,” Casey said.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were there. If I did I would’ve—” Amy stopped mid-sentence. What would she have done? She was contracted into that conversation with pen and ink, which now felt like blood. The silence between them hung heavy in the air.

  “I should’ve come out sooner, but I didn’t want you to know that I overheard what you were saying.” Casey shook her head, commenting on her own stupidity. “Look. I forgot to give Diego his gift cards for the trip. He likes
to hand these out to some of the players since traveling with the team can be expensive. Can you give them to him?”

  She held the thick envelope out for Amy to take. Their hands brushed lightly at the exchange. Amy’s hand froze for just a second as she refused to pull the envelope from Casey’s hand and lose the contact. If the room had been just a tiny bit darker, she could have imagined sparks actually jumping from one hand to the other, the charge ran quickly along Amy’s arm. Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet Casey’s hopelessly vulnerable stare.

  “You’re happy with Diego, right?” Casey finally broke the silence.

  Amy nodded.

  “I mean you’re talking about having kids and all, I know. At least that is what I think I overheard.” Casey paused. Her eyes turned steely. “I mean, I know I’m going way too far here, but is he the one?”

  The knot of raw emotion tied up in Amy’s heart ever since her parents’ death unraveled slightly. A deep sadness seeped into her system. She ached to fall headlong into those blue eyes and take this woman in her arms and tell her the truth. Inside she screamed, “No! No. He’s not the one.”

  Casey raised her eyebrow. “Well, is he?”

  Amy took a deep breath and held it in her lungs as she searched for the right thing to say. This was the moment. Come clean or stay dirty and get dirtier still? The truth weighed heavy on her tongue. Her contract sat locked away in Horowitz’s office like a deal with the devil. The truth would destroy everything. And what would be the point of honesty now? It wasn’t as if Diego and Casey were riding off into the sunset together.

  “Yes,” she said, softly. “He’s the one.” The loosened ends of the knot wrapped tight around her heart again.

  Casey’s eyes turned cold. She released the envelope and said almost breezily, “Good for you. See you tomorrow.”

  Her retreat was quick, leaving Amy alone in the kitchen. She stood there long enough for dusk to turn the marble counters inky black.