by Helen Conrad
Kelly came back into the room. “I’ll be just a moment,” she said. Cody turned and her glance went from him to the picture and back again. He waited, the question in his eyes.
“That’s Tim,” she said brightly. “Tammy’s father.”
“Deceased. Right?”
“Yes.” She turned away. “Tim died four years ago.”
“Oh.” He yanked at the knot of his tie, loosening it a bit. The room was beginning to give him a claustrophobic feeling.
Kelly walked past him and picked up the photograph, staring down at Tim’s smiling face. She hesitated. Should she tell him about Tim? Did she have the right to tell him?
“You may have heard of him,” she went on woodenly. “Tim Stanton, the jet boat racer.”
“Oh sure. I remember.” And with lightning speed he recalled the ugly accident on Lake Mead that had taken the racer’s life. He looked at Kelly. Was she there when it happened? He couldn’t ask such a question. But the room was feeling smaller.
“We were married for seven years,” she went on, setting the picture down carefully. “Seven long years.”
Cody turned away. Not only was she clean and unspoiled, she was mourning a dead husband. He'd known that, but now it hit him with a hard reality it hadn't had before. What the hell was he doing here? He had to get out.
“Listen,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I think I’d better get going.”
She stood very still. “Don’t you want any coffee?”
He glanced at her and regretted it. She looked angelic standing there, the light from a big brass lamp shining in her hair. He had to leave before he did something stupid.
“Thanks, but I can’t stay any longer.” He turned toward the door, then looked back once he’d reached it. “Listen, thanks for keeping me company tonight. I enjoyed it.”
Kelly stared at him, her eyes huge and unhappy. She’d depended on him to make everything all right, and he’d failed her.
“I enjoyed it too,” she said stiffly. “Goodnight.”
He nodded, then pulled open the door and stepped out. “Good night,” he called, just before the door shut behind him.
Kelly stood very still. “The hell with him,” she whispered to herself as she listened to his car backing down the driveway. Moisture filled her eyes, blurring her vision, but she refused to wipe away the tears. To do that, she would have to admit she was crying.
*** *** *** ***
The afternoon sun was a burning circle in the flat, cloudless blue sky. The wind off the desert was playfully sporadic, kicking up just when least expected. Girls in pastel baseball uniforms were spread out across the dusty field, some bent forward in anticipation, others leaning back in dreamy disinterest. Kelly’s daughter Tammy was at bat.
“Steeeerike,” the umpire droned, holding up two fingers. Tammy bit her lip and reached up to pull her hat farther over her eyes.
Sitting on the bench, Kelly tensed, hands clenched together, trying to hide her butterflies from the other girls. Her team, the Rockin’ Robins, was in the midst of a game with its archrival, the Golden Unicorns, girls from the wealthy side of town. The Robins wore jeans and faded T-shirts while the Unicorns had aqua uniforms that some mother must have had made up specially on her last trip to Rodeo Drive. The contrasts were half the battle as far as the girls were concerned. Just looking at the Robins made the Unicorns smile like Cheshire cats.
Another pitch left the pitcher’s hand. Seconds later a solid crack split the air, and then Tammy was running for first and Kelly was jumping up and down, cheering her on. But it was all in vain. Second base caught the ball on a bounce and sent it zinging to first, arriving just ahead of Tammy. She was out, and her out was the third one of that half of the inning. Kelly groaned, sagging along with her girls, then straightened and tried to keep the spirit up.
“Get out there!” she called to her team. “Make it three outs in a row, girls. Let’s go!”
“You could be one of them, you know.”
Kelly turned and smiled fleetingly. She’d been aware of Glenn watching her through most of the game. Now he’d come down from the bleachers and was standing beside the bench.
“What’s that?” she asked absently, wishing he’d stayed in his seat. It seemed he was popping up everywhere these days. She hated to be rude, but the man almost made her do it. She’d been friends with him for months now. He had a daughter Tammy’s age and the two of them were on the team together. She’d dated him off and on, but every time he’d hinted that he’d like to remarry, she’d backed away very quickly.
“When you get out there on the field, you look as young as any of our girls,” he told her now, smiling.
He was only being nice. It wasn’t fair of her to feel annoyed. She forced an answering smile.
“I sure don’t feel as young, not when a game is this close and still not in the bag. Excuse me, Glenn. I want to make sure Penny’s in position.”
She moved away from him, put a hand out to shade her eyes and scanned the field. Sure enough, long-legged Penny Mayfair was stretching her gangly body on the sidelines. Tammy was ready to throw her first pitch and Penny hadn’t taken the field yet.
Kelly called to the girl who looked around blankly, then seemed to get the idea and trotted out where she belonged. Kelly sighed. Penny was a problem. If only she would keep her mind on the game. Just putting her in at all involved making all the other girls angry at Kelly.
“Mom, do you really have to put Penny in?” Tammy had whispered a few minutes before. “I mean, we have a chance to win, and you know she’s no good.”
Kelly had managed a stern, mother-will-lecture-now look. “Tammy, we said from the very beginning that everyone would have a turn to play. Penny is a member of the team, just like you are. Martha played center field all through the first six innings. It’s Penny’s turn. She plays.”
Kelly herself had cringed when she’d watched Penny drop the easy fly ball that should have given the Unicorns their third out of the last inning. She ached to see the superior smile wiped from the face of Marge Deveraux, the Unicorns’ coach and general manager. And Penny did seem half asleep most of the time. But fair was fair. It was hard and lonely to make decisions sometimes.
One of the Unicorns hit a bouncer past the pitcher. Kelly watched, lips compressed, while Penny missed it and the batter took an extra base. The groans from the other Robins were becoming audible. She was going to have to speak to them about that.
“You should take that girl out,” Glenn was saying, turning up beside her again. “She’s the worst player on the team. I doubt she can walk and blink at the same time.”
“She’ll never get any better unless she gets a chance to play,” Kelly said, then bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him. She was feeling her own twinges of anger at Penny. Glenn gave a heavy sigh and she tried not to wince.
“Listen, could you pass these papers out to the parents in the stands?” she asked, knowing that doing her a favor would bring a smile back to his face. “It’s the new schedule and a list of who’s bringing drinks to the games.”
“Sure.” Just as she’d thought, he took the papers gladly. “You know I like to help you. I wish you’d think of more things for me to do.”
He walked away happily and Kelly watched him go, wondering ruefully what she was going to do. She was almost certain she didn’t want him in her life. The chemistry just wasn’t there. But he didn’t take hints very well. With a sense of dread, she knew she was going to have to come right out and tell him how she felt—and pretty soon.
She started to look back at the field again, but something caught her eye. As she turned, before she’d even really seen it, a chill skittered down her spine.
It was Cody. He stood near the parking lot, his suit coat slung over his shoulder, the long sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, a brush of silky black hair falling down over his forehead. Her heart seemed to stop. She stared, meeting his gaze, and waited for him to make some sign
.
He didn’t smile. Suddenly it had been too long and she looked quickly away, murmuring something to Tammy who was just coming off the field. The Unicorns had accrued three outs and Kelly hadn’t even noticed.
“Okay, girls,” she declared, not really knowing what she was saying. “This is it. Our last chance. It’s now or never. Get out there and show those dressed-up dolls how to play this game!”
Tammy looked puzzled, but Kelly didn’t notice that she’d acted out of character. Her mind was on the tall, dark man on the other side of the bleachers. Biting her lip, she cursed herself for an idiot and wished with all her heart that she’d thrown him a bright, cheery smile just to prove how little she cared that he hadn’t called for two weeks.
So he wouldn’t smile at her. Well, who needed him? She settled the batting order and sat down on the bench, forcing herself to watch the game.
“I’m back,” said Glenn brightly, looking as though he was about to slap himself down beside her.
“Uh... why don’t you go out and act as first base coach?” Kelly suggested, unable to bear him there right now.
“Oh sure. Glad to help.” He trotted out toward first base and she watched him pass Cody.
“Go away,” she whispered in Cody’s direction, glaring at him. But he didn’t even look her way. She turned toward the game and struggled to pay attention. People moved back and forth in front of her, but her mind was on Cody. Out of the corner of her eye she could see where he stood. She closed her eyes for a brief moment.
“Go away,” she whispered again. But when she opened her eyes, he was still there.
Glenn’s daughter Suzy walked. Niki bunted and took first while Suzy went to second. Two on base. If they could just get home, the Rockin’ Robins would have the game won. Kelly began to pay more attention.
Jeri struck out. Suzy tried to steal and got caught at it. Two away. In desperation, the girls looked to the next batter. Penny stepped up. Collectively, the bench groaned.
“Quiet!” Kelly admonished them. “You give her the same respect you ask for yourselves.” But that didn’t stop the grumbling.
One ball, then two strikes, and the mood was glum on the bench. Another pitch, and somehow, through sheer wishing, Penny’s bat made a connection with the ball that sent it spinning out into left field.
“Run, run!” the girls all yelled as Penny hesitated, not sure what had actually happened. “Run!” She ran as hard as her gangly legs would take her. The fielder bobbled the ball. Penny made it to first base.
“Stick, stick!” the girls yelled, and surely Glenn must have been advising the same.
But the girls on the Unicorns’ bench sensed a vulnerability, and in chorus, they gleefully yelled, “Run for second! Run for second!”
Penny spun around. The fielder still didn’t have complete control of the ball. Uncertainty crumpled Penny’s face. “Stick to first!” the Robins were screaming.
But they were being drowned out by the chant, “Run for second!” from the opposing team.
Penny looked around, her face confused, and started to run. She hadn’t taken more than four steps before she realized her mistake. The second base player had the ball. She came toward Penny, grinning happily. Penny turned to look back. Suddenly, the ball was in first base’s hand and she was advancing as well. Penny didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was supposed to do. The yells and taunts from the crowd confused her even further. She looked at the crowd, helpless. Eyes filling with tears, she dropped to a crouching position, waiting for the inevitable tag—the final out that would lose the game for her team. The first base player made a flourish for the crowd, then tapped Penny with the ball. Penny squeezed her eyes shut and tears slid down her cheeks.
The screaming all around was earsplitting. On the Unicorns’ side of the stands, shouts of laughter filled the air. From the Robins’ side came calls of outrage and anger. Kelly tried to quiet the girls, but they were beyond logic. Their frustration had found a target in poor Penny. Kelly knew it would be only a few minutes before they would regret their unkind words, but for now, those words were spilling out in abundance.
Giving up the lost cause quickly, she tried to see what was going on in the field. Surely Glenn would be comforting Penny. But no. Penny was still in a heap and Glenn was walking away, shaking his head in disgust.
“Oh, poor Penny!” Kelly exclaimed, exasperated with everyone now. She struggled, trying to break out of the crowd that was pouring out of the stands. She shoved and pushed, not caring who she slighted.
“Let me through!” she demanded, dodging around the people who danced in front of her. Finally she broke out of the pack and stopped to get her bearings. Where was Penny? She surveyed the mob quickly, searching for her player. And then she saw her, heading for the parking lot.
Penny was with Cody. His arm was around her and he was leading her away from the jeers of the crowd, his head bent over her, his shoulders wide enough to protect her. Something burst inside Kelly’s chest, something hot and breathstopping. She ran to catch up with them, but then slowed her steps. She wasn’t sure of her reception.
“You know what I think?” Cody was saying to the girl as Kelly got within earshot. “That was one fine hit you had. You ought to work on developing that.”
“I lost the game,” Penny said tremulously.
“No, you didn’t.” He pulled her to a stop next to his car and gazed down earnestly into the girl’s face. “Every player on your team who made a mistake, everyone who dropped a ball or struck out or had an opportunity to make a good play and didn’t come through—every one of them helped lose the game. No one player can do it on her own.”
Penny blinked away her tears. “Really?”
He smiled and chucked her chin. “Of course, really. You work on that hitting. Concentrate on that. The rest will come.”
Kelly stepped forward. “Penny...”
The girl looked at her, stricken, then turned her face away. Cody glanced down at Kelly. “I’d like to give her a ride home,” he said. “Vouch for me. Tell her I’m not a bad guy, so she won’t be nervous about my giving her a ride.”
Kelly looked from Penny to Cody and back again. “I... I’m not so sure she should go with you,” she began.
His face hardened. “Really?” he said coolly. “Am I such a villain that you won’t even trust me to take a young girl home to her family in safety?” His tone was deceptively light, but his eyes flashed silver fire.
Kelly saw his reaction and shook her head. “No, you don’t understand what I’m saying. I think she should come back with the team. I want them to apologize—“
Cody waved away the rest of her statement with a grimace and leaned forward to say softly, “Not now. She’s too torn up. Let her face them when she’s calmed down and cleaned up a little. Let her have some dignity.”
Kelly hesitated. Maybe he was right.
Cody saw her uncertainty and his face relaxed a little. “Tell her I’m okay,” he said, gesturing toward Penny.
She still hesitated. “Penny, this is Cody Marin, a friend of mine,” she said quickly. Should she let him take her home? Not without her parents’ permission. But when she told Cody that, he was going to think things she didn’t want him to. On impulse she reached out and touched the girl’s shoulder. “Penny... that was a nice hit you had. And Cody is right. It wasn’t your fault.”
Penny nodded, but didn’t look her in the face. Kelly turned and looked up into Cody’s unreadable eyes. She wanted to tell him what she thought of what he’d just done. There was a glow in her heart. Funny how he kept surprising her.
“I... That was...” Kelly shrugged helplessly. The words stuck in her throat.
Cody watched her, not saying a thing.
She made a new attempt, but before she got another word out, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that someone was approaching.
“Hi,” said a young, gangly youth in a torn t-shirt, with a baseball cap on backwards. “I’m Je
rry, Penny’s brother. I came to pick her up. Is it okay if I go ahead and take her home?”
Penny was suddenly all smiles. “Jerry. I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
He shook his head, looking at her with a slight smile. “I made it alright. Just in time to see you finally getting a hit.”
“Yeah.” She smiled again. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.”
She turned to go with him and Jerry gave Kelly and Cody a wink from behind her back. “Good stuff, girl. Now we just need to teach you what happens next.”
“Okay,” she said. Turning, she waved back. “Thanks Coach. And Mr. Cody. See you at practice.”
Kelly watched them disappear into the parking area, relieved to have that settled and turned back to look at Cody.
“You…you did a nice thing here,” she said stiffly, staring at the top button on his shirt.
“So unlike me,” he murmured, his eyes narrowed, his head thrown back. “There must be a full moon on the rise.”
Glancing up, she glared into his eyes. “I’m trying to give you a compliment!” she said.
“It’s better to give than to receive,” he shot back, his eyes cold. “So why don’t you just keep it for yourself?”
The man was impossible. When she’d first seen him across the softball playing field, her heart had leaped in her throat. She’d been longing to see him again for the last two weeks. Memories of the three short times they’d had together had haunted her by the hour. When she closed her eyes, she could feel his touch on her skin, sense his breath against her neck. But he’d left her house so abruptly the other night, she’d been sure he wasn’t interested. Then he’d turned up here at the game and she’d allowed herself to hope, just a little.
But he wasn’t interested in her. He was from a different world. Coldness gripped her heart. She didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Sorry I bothered you,” Kelly retorted, whirling and striding away. Her first instincts had been right. She should have stuck to them.
She sensed him behind her just before he spoke. “Wait a minute!” He hooked her arm and spun her around to face him again. His fingers closed on the sensitive skin of her inner arm. His gaze held hers. She wished she could read what was going on in his mind and heart in those eyes. His thoughts always seemed to be hidden by a cynical shield of sarcasm or humor. She stared at him, yearning to see the real Cody Marin in there somewhere. Why wouldn’t he let her in?