Stealing Second: Sam's Story: Book 4 in the Clarksonville Series

by Clanton, Barbara L.

  “If we leave now, we’ll have plenty of time before I have to be home.”

  “We’ll miss dessert,” Sam said. “Evelyn’s apple pie.”

  “Do you care?”

  Sam shook her head so fast, it made Lisa laugh.

  “We’ll see them tomorrow anyway. C’mon,” Lisa grabbed Sam’s hand, “let’s go say goodbye.”

  Chapter Nine

  Thirteen and Two-Thirds

  SAM SAT ON the bleachers with Lisa, Susie, and Marlee and watched the early morning semi-final playoff game between third ranked Southbridge and second ranked Elmhurst. It was a perfect softball day with a brilliant blue sky and no clouds. The soft breeze kept the mid-80’s temperature at bay. It was also a perfect day to have your girlfriend meet your parents.

  Elmhurst had the bases loaded. The batter at the plate smashed a sizzling shot down the left field line that would score one, maybe two, runs.

  “Aay,” Susie shook her head, “Southbridge is getting killed.”

  “I thought their new pitcher was supposed to be good,” Sam said. “We struggled against her last time.”

  “She is good,” Marlee said, “but she only has a rise ball.”

  “Which she’s not throwing well today,” Lisa finished.

  “Obviously,” Sam said, “they don’t stand a chance without Bree.”

  “Who is happily sitting in juvenile detention hall at this moment.” Susie high-fived Sam and then grinned at Marlee.

  “And, man oh man, she can stay there,” Marlee added. “Getting stalked like that was really creepy.”

  Lisa nodded. “You had the emotional trauma from Bree, and Sam had the physical.” She gestured toward Sam’s black eye. She leaned in close and whispered, “Your black eye makes you look butch.”

  “Shuddup.” Sam pushed Lisa away good naturedly.

  “Oh, geez. Look.” Lisa pointed toward the parking lot. “The gang’s all here.”

  William, Evelyn, Aunt Fran, and Aunt Margaret were making their way from the parking lot to the bleachers. Right behind them were Lisa’s parents, her two sisters, and her brother. Lisa waved frantically to them. Sam threw in her own waves as well.

  “You have so many people coming to watch you play,” Sam said.

  And I have none.

  As if reading Sam’s mind, Lisa pointed toward a red Prius pulling into the parking lot. “Isn’t that Helene’s car?”

  Sam craned her neck. “Yeah, it is.”

  “I didn't know she was coming today.”

  “Me neither.” Helene usually went to Sam’s high school games, but rarely summer games. Alarm bells jangled. Did her presence have anything to do with her friends coming back to the house for the pool party later?

  Coach Gellar bellowed for her East Valley Nor’Easters to start warming up, so Sam didn’t have a chance to wait for Helene and ask. Sam stood up and shouldered her softball bag. “I’ll see you later,” she said to Lisa.

  Lisa nodded and picked up the overlarge duffel that held her mitt and catcher’s equipment. “Ready, Marlee?”

  Marlee nodded. She and Lisa lugged their equipment off the bleachers and headed for the cow pen behind left field to warm up. Sam and Susie headed the other direction to warm up with the rest of the team in the grassy area between the parking lot and the right field fence.

  Sam and Susie led the team through their usual stretching routine and then everybody paired up to throw. They’d take their laps around the field once Elmhurst finished trouncing Southbridge.

  Sam and Susie threw the ball back and forth a few times, and then Sam said, “Hey, Sus, throw me some easy grounders, okay?”

  Susie nodded and tossed a slow roller. Sam charged the ball, keeping her head down all the way. She scooped it up easily and threw a bullet back to Susie.

  “Make ‘em a little harder.” Sam backpedaled to her original spot and crouched low. This time she moved to her left to get the ball, but she did it without pulling out her head or getting tense. She tossed it back. “Harder now.”

  “You asked for it, gringa.” Susie cocked her arm back and launched a hard grounder in Sam’s direction.

  “Head down,” Sam murmured to herself. She moved her feet and got in front of the ball. It bounced into her glove, hitting the sweet pocket. She scooped it in and blew out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t ball shy like Lisa said, not anymore. She wasn’t going to pull her head out. Not ever again. She tossed the ball back to Susie feeling confident, that is until she remembered that Coach Gellar might not even start her in the first game. Or the second. Coach Gellar was not beyond making an example out of debutante Samantha Rose Payton.

  Sam threw some high pops to Susie until Coach Gellar called them in for a team huddle. Lisa and Marlee were still in the cow pen, but Sam and the rest of her teammates formed a loose circle around their coach.

  “Girls,” Coach Gellar looked straight at Sam, “this is what we’ve worked for all summer. We’ve struggled through a few games, but we came out victorious in all of them. But not today.” She paused and spread her laser beam glare around the circle. “Oh, we’ll be victorious all right, but we’re not going to struggle. In fact, we’re going to show both teams and the people in the stands that East Valley has the best team in this league, in this county, and in the entire North Country.”

  “Yeah!” Abby punched a fist in the air.

  “And we want them to keep on remembering that when the school season rolls around next spring.” Coach Gellar put her hand in the middle. “Who’s with me?”

  A resounding cheer went up from Sam’s teammates, but Sam didn’t join in as heartily. It seemed rude to cheer for East Valley dominance when they’d be playing against Marlee and Lisa.

  “Nor’Easters on three,” Coach Gellar said. “One, two, three!”

  “Nor’Easters!” the team shouted.

  On the field, Southbridge made their last out of the summer. The Nor’Easters hustled to get their gear and headed to the dugout.

  “Sam,” Coach Gellar grunted, “in my office.” She pointed to a spot on the grass that was apparently her office.

  Sam swallowed against the lump building in her throat. Now what? She reached down to pick up her bag.

  “Aay,” Susie patted her on the back, “buenas suerte, mi amiga.”

  “Thanks. I could use a little luck right now.” Sam shouldered her bag and hustled to her coach. She felt like a kindergartener getting in trouble for eating paste.

  “Payton,” Coach Gellar said, her laser beam eyes rooting Sam to the spot. “Why should I start you?”

  It wasn’t the question Sam was expecting. In fact, Sam wasn’t expecting a question at all. She figured Coach Gellar was going to tell her she’d be sitting out the first game.

  “‘Cuz I’m a good second baseman.” Sam tried not to make it sound like a question.

  Coach Gellar laughed. “You weren’t a good second baseman on Thursday. I had to put Miller in for you.”

  “I know. I was having a bad day. I’m good now. I’m going to keep my head down and make good throws, and—”

  “What about Abby?”

  What about her? Sam didn’t have a chance to process the question.

  “It would be nice if you two had a better rapport, relationship, bond. Middle infielders have to stick together. You two are the meat of the infield. First and third? Ah, they’re just the potatoes.”

  Sam held her breath so she wouldn’t burst out laughing. “I’ll work on it.”

  “You do that.” Coach Gellar whirled around and headed for the dugout. The meeting in her office was apparently over.

  Sam opened the gate and dumped her bag just inside the fence. She sprinted to catch up to her teammates running laps around the field. She caught up to them at the final straight away down the left field line. When she made it back to the dugout after grabbing her bag, Lisa, Susie, and Marlee surrounded her.

  “You okay?” Lisa asked under her breath.

  Sam nodded.


  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I think.

  “Okay, girls,” Coach Gellar said, “here’s the starting lineup. Jacobs in center, Payton at second—”

  Sam stopped listening after she heard her name called. It would have been embarrassing to ride the pine with Helene and Lisa’s entire family there.

  Sam and her friends watched the Milford team warm up on the field until Coach Gellar bellowed, “Infield let’s go,” and then headed toward home plate for their own pre-game warm up.

  Sam desperately wanted to run up to the bleachers and ask Helene if her parents had changed their minds about the pool party, but there was no smooth way to do it.

  Mae, East Valley’s first baseman, threw grounders to the infielders. Sam fielded hers cleanly and threw the ball back with authority each time. She and Abby turned a couple of practice double plays, and Sam felt good. She even fielded Coach Gellar’s hard hit grounders without having to ask for another.

  After their pre-game warm ups, the Nor’Easters stayed on the field as the home team. Marlee joined them and took her five warm up pitches.

  “Comin’ down,” Lisa bellowed from behind the plate. Lisa caught Marlee’s last practice pitch and rifled the ball to Abby who covered second base. Abby caught it, made a sweeping tag at a fake runner and then tossed the ball from her glove to Sam who caught it with her bare hand. Sam pivoted and threw it to Keisha at third. Keisha whipped the ball across the infield to Mae, and then the infielders ran to the pitcher’s circle to deliver the ball back to Marlee.

  After a quick cheer, Lisa balled a fist and gave Sam a light punch on her arm for encouragement before hustling back behind the plate. Sam ran to her second base position and raked the ground with her cleats until the umpire called for the first Milford batter.

  “C’mon, Marlee,” Sam called. “Just you and Lisa. Fire it in there.” She pounded a fist in her glove hoping she wouldn’t mess up if the ball came to her.

  “Stee-rike!” The umpire called enthusiastically.

  “That’s it Marlee, two more,” Sam yelled.

  Marlee put her hands together. She raised both in the air and then in an explosion of power launched herself and the pitch toward the plate. The batter swung and launched the ball right back up the middle. Marlee reached to her left for the sizzling grounder, but missed. Sam took a step in, and instantly regretted it. The ball was too fast. She mistimed the bounce and it hit off her wrist. She ignored the pain and scrambled after the ball. She threw it to Mae at first base, but too late. The runner was safe.

  “Shit,” Sam muttered. “What the frig is wrong with me?” She blew out a sigh and headed back toward her second base territory, terrified that Coach Gellar was going to yank her out of the game in front of everybody.

  “Hey, Marlee,” Abby called, “give us a second.”

  Marlee nodded and bent down to retie a shoe.

  “Samantha Rose,” Abby said, “don’t be mad, okay? Coach wanted me to, uh, I mean, she—okay, this is what I do before every single pitch. I picture a ball coming at me, and I scoop it up clean. I think, ‘It won’t hurt if it hits me.’”

  “That’s not exactly true.” Sam displayed the red welt rising up on her wrist.

  “I know, but you have to psych yourself into getting in front of those hard ones.” Abby headed back to her shortstop position. “Just try it, okay?”

  Sam nodded and pounded her glove. Marlee put her hands together for the next pitch. Sam pictured a hard hit grounder coming at her. She pictured scooping it up cleanly like she’d done with Susie before the game.

  Marlee sent the pitch toward the plate. The batter swung and sent a searing line drive foul off the third base line.

  “You’ve got the steal,” Abby said and cheated a few steps toward third.

  Sam nodded and took a step closer to second. Sure enough the runner on first took off on the next pitch.

  “Going,” Sam yelled to Lisa and headed to cover second base.

  Lisa snagged Marlee’s pitch and fired it toward second base from her knees.

  The throw was right on target. Sam moved in position and Lisa’s bullet smacked in her glove. The runner slid feet first. Sam held her ground and put all her might into tagging the runner low and strong. The runner slid into the glove, but her momentum carried her across the bag knocking Sam over. Pain exploded in her cheekbone. She clutched her face with her free hand trying to get the pain under control.

  “Out!” the umpire yelled.

  Thank God! Sam thought.

  Abby rushed over. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” Sam pulled her hand away from her face.

  “Shit,” Abby said. “You’ve got a nasty welt under your eye. I think she got you with her knee. Are you trying to get another black eye?”

  Sam chuckled in spite of the pulsing pain in her cheek. Her teammates, Lisa included, swarmed around her. Coach Gellar and the team trainer pushed their way through.

  “Give us room, girls,” the trainer said. Sam’s teammates backed away. She said to Sam. “Look at me.” Sam looked up. “Left, right, down. Okay, good no damage to the eye,” the trainer mumbled to herself. She felt around the cheekbone, and Sam tried hard not to wince at the mauling she was receiving. “You’re fine. We’ll get ice on that when the inning’s over, okay?”

  Sam nodded and stood up. She pulled the glove off her hand and brushed herself off. She tried to open her eye wide only to wince as the cheek protested. She felt her face; her cheek was already swelling.

  “You okay to stay in the game?” Coach Gellar asked.

  “I’m good.”

  Coach Gellar and the trainer headed back to the dugout. The trainer glanced back at Sam and said to the coach, “She’s been taking a beating out there lately.”

  “No kidding. She’s working on borrowed time.”

  Sam groaned. The trainer said something else, but they were too far away for Sam to make it out. She shot a glance at Abby who was still standing on second base. “Didn’t you say it wouldn’t hurt?”

  With a shrug and a grin, Abby backpedaled to her position.

  Lisa stood in the pitcher’s circle with Marlee. She mouthed to Sam, “Are you okay?”

  Sam nodded and smiled to reassure Lisa. Thank God this was the last day of summer softball, otherwise her mother would yank her off the team for sure.

  Sam got settled into her spot at second base and blew out a sigh. They were only in the top of the first inning. How was she ever going to make it through the next thirteen and two-thirds?

  Chapter Ten

  Tougher Stuff

  AFTER THEIR SEMI-FINAL win over the Milford Cobras, Coach Gellar gave Sam and her teammates a short ten minutes to say hello to their families before taking on the Elmhurst Rage in the finals.

  Sam ran up to Helene in the bleachers and blurted, “Is everything okay? Can they still come over?”

  “Everything’s fine, Samantha Rose.” Helene patted Sam’s arm in a calming manner. “I came to watch you play. That’s all.”

  Sam sighed in relief and then pointed to the blue skies overhead. “You were right about the weather.”

  “Mmm.” Helene tilted her head toward the August summer sun and closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” She opened her eyes, grabbed Sam’s chin, and turned it to the side. “Honey, when will you learn to keep your face out of the way?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Sam reached up and felt her cheek. The swelling had receded a little from the ice treatments the trainer had applied in between innings. “I’ll live.”

  “Well, that’s always a good thing. I’m going to watch about two innings of the next game and then head home to help your mother get ready for your party.”

  “Thanks, Helene. You’re the best.” Sam grabbed Helene’s hand and pulled her up. “C’mon, you have to meet Lisa’s family before you go.”

  “That would be n
ice.” Helene ran a hand over her hair, even though her usual blond ponytail looked fine and smooth as usual.

  Lisa’s parents stood up when Sam and Helene approached.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Brown,” Sam said to Lisa’s parents, “this is Helene, my nanny.”

  “Nanny?” Lisa’s mother looked confused.

  Sam felt the blush creep up her cheeks. “Yeah, I still kind of have a nanny.” She mumbled the last part of the sentence.

  Helene laughed. “I’m more like a jack of all trades in the Payton household, but, yes, I did help take care of Samantha Rose when she was younger.”

  You still do, Sam thought.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Helene.” Lisa’s mother shook hands with Helene.

  “Likewise.”

  Lisa’s father smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet somebody from Sam’s camp.”

  Helene smiled graciously and shook the offered hand.

  Lisa’s mother reached out to give Sam a warm hug. She pulled back and examined Sam’s bruised cheek in much the same way Helene had done. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “I like to stop base runners with my face.”

  Lisa’s mother chuckled. “You should rethink that strategy, Samantha Rose.”

  “I agree.” Sam smiled.

  “So,” Lisa’s mother turned to Helene, “tell me all about Samantha Rose as a baby. We’ve told her Lisa’s baby stories, but she won’t tell us any of hers.”

  “With pleasure.” Helene made herself comfortable on the bleachers next to Lisa’s mother.

  “Oh, no.” Sam faked a grimace, but inside she was smiling. “I’d better make a fast exit.” She loved the fact that Helene and Lisa’s mother were getting to know each other. Bridget apparently wanted in on the action and climbed into Helene’s lap. Helene didn’t seem to think anything of it and simply readjusted Bridget into a more comfortable position. Sam flashed a grin at Helene.

  “Sam, Lisa,” Susie called from the dugout, “c’mon.” She pointed to her wrist as if she were wearing a watch.

  Sam hugged Helene over Bridget. “I love you.”