by Fredrick, MJ
With a flip of her skirt, she crouched behind Max, glove at the ready. “I’ll tell you when to swing,” she told the boy.
“Catchers don’t help batters,” he said.
“Not usually. But right now we’re all on the same team.” She nodded to Leo that he was ready, and he pitched. “Swing!” she called to Max, who did, hard enough to spin him all the way around. He missed and the ball landed in her glove. She straightened to throw it back to Leo, who caught it easily. “My fault,” she said to Max. “I’ll time it a little better next time.”
He missed the next pitch, and the pitch after that. She could tell by the tension in his shoulders that Leo was itching to come over to correct him, but he held onto his patience, his voice smooth and calm.
And Max hit the next ball. Foul on the first base line, but he hit it, and was so excited he tossed the bat. Trinity’s reflexes were pretty good, but the flying bat hit her calf, hard enough to make her gasp.
“Whoa. You okay?” Leo strode forward to check on her, catching her bare arm and bending to look at the damage. It was already red and a bit swollen, and Leo turned to Max, frowning.
Trinity squeezed his arm, forestalling the scolding, and addressed the boy. “You hit the ball! That’s great. How did it feel?”
“Awesome! Let’s do it again.”
Leo’s frown hadn’t faded, his focus on her leg. “We need to get some ice on that.”
She drew away. “It can wait. Come on, Dad.” She took her spot behind the plate. “Let’s do it again.”
“Trinity! Time to go!” Her mother’s voice carried over the field.
Trinity straightened automatically. Once again she felt nine years old as she pivoted to see her mother, father and brother waiting in front of the church. “I’ll be home later!” she called.
“We’re going to breakfast.”
“I know.” They’d done so every week as long as she could remember. “I’ll be home later. You go, have fun.”
Her mother’s disapproval traveled across the field faster than her voice did, and she stood beside the minivan a moment, her fist on her hip, conveying her opinion of Trinity’s choice. But for the first time in years, Trinity couldn’t make herself care. Finally, her father said something, and her mother got into the car, closing the door with more force than necessary.
Only then did Trinity remember Leo standing beside her, watching the whole thing.
“My family—we’re creatures of habit. We don’t like change.”
“Yeah, a lot of that around here. Are you sure you’re okay?”
For a moment he thought he was talking about her decision, but he motioned to her leg. “I’m good.” Though she’d have a monster bruise tomorrow. “Let’s go again. This time, hang onto the bat, Max, okay?”
Leo managed to wrangle some more kids wandering around the park into an impromptu game. She understood what he was doing, trying to get Max interested in something, trying to help him make friends. She hoped his plan worked. The boy needed something concrete to hold onto, especially if his dad went back to the war zone.
***
Leo glanced around at the crowd that had gathered, some kids in church clothes, others in jeans and sweatshirts. Some were playing, other people were watching, gathered around the rickety bleachers. Max had long since declined to step up to the plate, considering the big audience, and was now outfield with Leo.
Leo wound up for a pitch, focusing on the batter. Behind the scrawny kid, he saw Trinity sway on her heels. He lowered the ball and motioned for another kid to take his place on the mound, then motioned to Max, who was braced to catch a pitch in the outfield.
“Let’s go get some lunch.”
“I’m not hungry,” Max said.
Of course he wouldn’t be. He’d demolished half a dozen pancakes at home. He’d never seen a kid so skinny eat so much, though his mother said he’d been much the same. Even Leo had done some serious damage to his mother’s breakfast, unable to remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal.
“Yeah, but our catcher hasn’t eaten, remember? We’ll split a burger at Quinn’s. They’re pretty good.”
“I can’t go to Quinn’s. It’s a bar.”
“It has a bar. It’s not a bar. Like Chili’s.” Leo looked to Trinity for confirmation.
She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never seen kids there, but if he’s with you I’m sure it’s not a problem.”
Trinity stumbled a bit in her shoes as they made their way toward the road. Leo steadied her with his hand on her elbow, and stopped himself from rubbing his thumb over her smooth skin. He let his hand fall away, too aware of his son walking beside them, of their neighbors out and about. So he didn’t touch her, even though he wanted to.
“No doubt Quinn has some ice to put on that bruise,” Leo said as they walked up the stairs into the bar.
A moment of awkwardness descended as they stepped in the door, when the dozen or so patrons looked from Quinn to Max and back again. Quinn inclined his head, indicating a table at the far end of the room, away from the big screen TV broadcasting an NBA game. Leo nodded and led Trinity and Max over. The waitress Beth followed them, taking in Trinity’s dirt-smudged skirt as she did.
“What have you guys been doing?”
“Playing baseball. Worked up an appetite.” Leo held the chair for Trinity before settling Max in. “Hey, do you think we could get an ice pack for Trinity? Bat mishap.”
Trinity lifted her hem to show the bruise. Beth winced and nodded, then took their drink order and turned away.
“So,” Trinity began once the drinks were delivered, tracing the rim of her glass. “Have you thought about maybe coaching a Little League team?”
He snorted a laugh. “Why would I do that?”
“You had great patience out there on the field today with the kids. I think you’d be good at it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have that kind of patience. I mean, Max is my kid. But someone else’s kid? No. I can see myself screaming and getting some parent pi—ticked at me.” He glanced at Max.
“It would be a good way for Max to channel his energy, and a good way for him to make friends. Isn’t that what helped you fit in here?”
That she’d come to the same conclusion he had made him scowl. “Been checking up on me?”
She blushed, the prettiest color pink he’d ever seen. “You came up in conversation with Lily. She said you were an excellent player.”
Leo focused on the menu a moment. Limited as it was, it offered a momentary respite from her prying. “I loved it.”
“So what happened?”
He shrugged and placed the menu on the table in front of him. “You know. Growing up. Finding other things to be interested in. Moving from a small town to a big city was an adventure, so much to see and do. No more time for baseball.”
“Poor baseball. I’m sure it felt very lonely,” she teased.
He grinned. “It found some other schmuck.”
She became serious again, both hands folded around the bottom of her iced tea glass. “I think you still love it, and you want Max to love it. I think he would, if he had others to play with.”
He didn’t like the picture taking root in his head, a group of kids on the field in uniforms, Max up to bat, being cheered by his teammates. Him on the sidelines in a team shirt and hat. That was not who he was, not who he wanted to be.
But Max needed an outlet, like she said, needed something to love. And it would be something the two of them could share.
To Trinity, though, he shook his head. “I’m not that guy.”
She didn’t pursue it. Liv would have, would have charmed him into taking the position and he would have resented it. As much as he’d loved Liv, she knew how to get him to do things he didn’t want to do. But Trinity merely sipped her tea and changed the subject to the basketball game on TV.
Leaving him with that disturbing picture in his head.
***
Trinit
y looked up at the rap at her office door Monday morning. Her pulse kicked when Leo stuck his head in. “Got a minute?”
She stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt as her mind raced to figure out what he could want. “Sure. What is it?”
He crossed the small space and plopped into the stiff chair across from her desk. Only then did she notice the file folder in his hand. She smoothed her skirt again and sat in her wobbly computer chair.
“I made those calls you and Lily wanted me to make. I found a projector in Duluth that we could rent weekly. Not sure who you’ll get to drive to Duluth every week. I found one on eBay for three grand. We can hook up a DVD player to it, and some speakers, and we’re good. We may need to look into licensing for the right to show movies. We could buy an inflatable screen for another three grand, if we don’t want to project on the side of the building. What? What’s wrong?”
“We don’t have three thousand dollars to spend on something like that.” Disappointment weighted her heart. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to those evenings. “Oh, well. We’ll think of something else.”
He frowned. “Okay, maybe we don’t have the cash, but maybe we could make the movies themselves a fundraiser. A couple of dollars a person or something. We could make the money back by the end of the summer if we do it every weekend.”
Hope fluttered. “I doubt the town council will approve the expense.”
“Then I’ll buy the bloody thing. Look, you asked me to do this and you gave up so easily? I didn’t think that was like you.”
It was her turn to scowl. “You don’t know me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. I thought you were excited about this.”
“I was. I just didn’t think it would be so costly.”
“And I have a solution. Two, actually. I can afford three grand. No one needs to pay me back.” He shoved to his feet.
“Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad. I’m just—” He blew out a breath. “You and Lily tell me what the town needs, what you want it to be, but you’re not willing to pursue it?”
She leaned forward. “I’m trying to make life better here, not put another hardship on the town. And I don’t want to be beholden to you if you buy this thing.”
His blue eyes flashed as he dropped back into the chair across from her. “I’m not asking for anything. You wanted it, I can buy it. I’m not going to miss the money.”
She eased back, closing her fingers over the edge of her desk and dropping her gaze to the blotter. “I wouldn’t go around telling everyone that.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you.” The intimacy of his tone dragged her attention back to him.
“Why?” she demanded, and immediately wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want to know why he felt comfortable confiding in her, because he wasn’t bragging, only stating a fact, something she never would have guessed from his demeanor.
“Why what?”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know.” The words exploded out of him. “Because I get the feeling you won’t go tell the town. Because I get the feeling it doesn’t matter to you. Because…” But instead of adding to the list, he shook his head and rocked back in the chair. “Tell me what you want to do about this.” He lifted the folder.
She sighed. “Let me think, okay?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded, though it clearly wasn’t the answer he wanted.
“Were you able to get through to Maddox Bradley’s people?”
“I’ve got a call pending. I left my credentials. I hope they’re impressive enough to get a response.” He tapped his front pocket, where his phone was. “Just waiting. Lily has me pricing other stuff, too. She said there’s another town hall meeting next week? Why so soon?”
“We have a lot of business to cover. If this concert thing doesn’t play out, we need to try something else. There’s no time to waste.”
He nodded and stood. “Right. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. I’m going to look in on Max.” But he didn’t leave right away, and she wondered at his hesitation. “I’ve been thinking about your baseball team idea. Are there other teams in the area we could play?”
“I can check, but I’m pretty sure.”
“And there are boys here who would be interested?”
“And girls,” she added with a chiding smile.
“Right. Are there?”
She smiled as the tension eased. “I can check into that, too.”
He nodded, his focus on one of her motivational posters, her favorite, which read, “Education isn’t filling a bucket. It’s lighting a fire.”
“I’m thinking about it,” he said. “Don’t promise them anything.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He shifted his gaze toward her again and flashed a quick grin. “Don’t think you’ve talked me in to anything.”
She lifted her hands, palms out in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“All right. Going.” He rested his hand on the doorknob. “See you.”
She didn’t stop smiling for a long time after he left.
***
Leo’s days were busy now, with the slogan contest, some other odds and ends he took over at the paper and Lily’s ever-growing list of things for him to do in his “free” time. His editor wasn’t thrilled that he was taking the leave of absence, when the magazine had worked so hard to get him stationed with the troops in Afghanistan, but Leo had more than enough material to complete the assignment from home. He’d go back overseas in June. By then Max should be better settled.
He was never late again to pick up his son. The two of them would head to the diamond, and every day, more and more kids showed up to play along. He didn’t know if Trinity sent them or not.
He’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her when he’d gone by the school earlier this week, had wanted nothing more than to kiss her when he saw her after school every day. He got the idea she didn’t always pull after school duty, that she was out there to see him, and the idea pleased him more than it should.
Today he crossed the yard and handed her a sheaf of papers after he collected Max.
“What’s this?” she asked, puzzled, then lowered her head to read. Her face lit up as she took in the retro graphics he’d added, read the Wolfman Jack style tone he’d composed. “Oh! Movie night! A Fifties theme!” She lifted shining blue eyes to him. “You bought it.”
He lifted a shoulder casually, though relief coursed through him. He hadn’t been sure how she’d react after their last conversation. But seeing her smile was worth every penny of the money he’d spent. “I made forty flyers. Not sure if you want more.”
“This should be plenty. And we’ll announce it at the town hall meeting Wednesday, and remind them at school and church. Oh, Leo, thank you.” And then, as if she realized she shouldn’t, she hesitated, then hugged him.
He held her a bit longer than he should, breathing in the spring-like scent of her, feeling her supple body beneath his hands, her breasts against his chest. Leo drew back and looked into the knowing gaze of Mrs. Boller. He took a giant step back, physically and emotionally, and placed a hand on Max’s shoulder.
“We’re heading to the diamond. Some of the kids are waiting for us.”
“I did find out some of the nearby towns have teams,” Trinity volunteered. “Not sure how many interested parties I have here, but I’ll work on that.”
“Send ‘em over to the diamond. We’ll be there.” The desire to kiss her boneless finally subsiding, he nodded good-bye to Max’s teacher and guided Max to the SUV.
***
Leo walked into Quinn’s Friday night with the hope of seeing Trinity, but was disappointed. He crossed to Lily at the bar.
She greeted him with a quick hug. “Hey, Leo, I was going to come by tonight if I didn’t see you. Quinn’s having a barbecue here tomorrow, out in the parking lot.”
“Quinn is not having a
barbecue,” Quinn corrected from down the bar. “Lily is having a barbecue at Quinn’s. There’s a difference.”
Lily waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “I don’t know why you want people to think you’re anti-social.”
“So they’ll leave me alone.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to Leo. “So I imagine a certain school teacher will be there.”
“You may as well bring me both beers now,” Leo told Quinn.
“Word is she waits out front for you to pick up Max, and the other day you shared quite an intimate embrace.”
Leo used every ounce of will not to squirm under her knowing grin. How did such a simple sentence make him feel like he was back in high school? “She hugged me, a thank-you for setting up movie night.”
“That’s the other thing.” She bounced on her stool as Quinn delivered two beers to Leo and one to Lily. “That happened awfully quickly, and without the council’s approval.”
“I didn’t think I needed the council’s approval. It’s your land, right, and I already talked to Mr. Boysen about using the side of his building as a screen.”
“I meant for the financing. We have to rent a projector, don’t we?”
He shrugged. “I bought one.”
“Aren’t they expensive?”
“Not too bad.” He didn’t want to get into it with her, not wanting to cover the same ground he’d covered with Trinity. So he changed the subject. “So, this barbecue, you have people bringing stuff? Like a potluck?”
“Do you cook?” Lily’s eyebrows winged up.
“No, but I can stop by the bakery or something.”
“You could man the pit tonight,” Quinn said.
Leo frowned. “I could what?”
“Meat has to be cooked overnight. Got a buddy bringing in his giant smoker, but we have a lot of meat and it needs to be turned and whatever.”
Lily leaned on the bar. “Quinn was going to watch it all night, but if you could watch it awhile, that would give him a break.”