Throw Like a Woman

by Susan Petrone

  “Because you were worried that he might take it out on her?” Charlie finished her thought. He smiled at her. “You’re a good person, Brenda Haversham.”

  “Thanks.”

  Charlie raised one hand in greeting and Brenda turned to see that that Carl and his family were only about forty feet away.

  “Hey Carl,” Charlie called.

  “Charlie Bannister! What up?” Carl replied.

  Charlie stood up as the Maladente family got closer. Brenda did the same but hung in the background as Carl introduced Charlie to his family. When Charlie said: “Carl, I believe you know Brenda Haversham,” Brenda saw an amused twinkle in his eye.

  When she and Carl Maladente shook hands, he gave a harder grip than necessary and his eyes weren’t nearly as friendly as his words. His wife, on the other hand, seemed to hide a delighted giggle. And when she said, “I’m really glad to meet you,” Brenda believed it. They made polite small talk for a few moments, then Sophie Maladente called their son, who had been wandering by the edge of the pier throwing cotton candy to the seagulls, and the Maladentes went on their way.

  “I should probably get going too,” Brenda said as she and Charlie watched them walk away. “Team bus leaves at 3:00.”

  “I love that they still put you on a bus to go two blocks,” Charlie said.

  “They want to make sure everybody shows up. I’d rather walk. Speaking of which, I could probably walk back to the hotel from here, right?”

  “Sure, it’s only about a fifteen-minute walk. Care for a guide?” As he said this, he held out one arm, elbow bent. Brenda wasn’t sure if taking his arm was more intimate or less intimate than holding hands. Either way, it felt good.

  •◊•

  Excerpt from the transcript for Today in Sports with Charlie Bannister, ESPN, August 26:

  Charlie: Now I know most of the country thinks we New Yorkers don’t get out of the city enough, so I’m here to tell you that some of us do. For instance, just today I had occasion to spend the day in Baltimore and had a wonderful time. And not only that, Today in Sports will be going on the road in two weeks. We’ll be doing the show from Los Angeles the week of September fourteenth. So you see—some of us get around.

  Chapter Nineteen

  •◊•

  Apparently feeling even halfway good was a liability. Brenda wouldn’t say that she was in a good mood after her lunch with Charlie—that was more optimism than she could allow herself. But the world appeared slightly brighter and less tarnished.

  She went in for two-thirds of an inning that night and gave up two hits and a run. Earl said afterward that she was having trouble finding the strike zone, but Brenda knew she was having trouble finding her anger. Her mind kept going back to her lunch with Charlie and how comfortable she felt with him and the quiet moment two blocks from the hotel when he had kissed her cheek and the nearness of his body to hers. She spent the rest of the road trip trying to focus on anything but that moment.

  She only went in for one of the three games in Tampa, facing one batter in the second game in the bottom of the eighth. She fell behind him in the count and when he hit the 2-0 pitch into deep right, the only thing that saved her from being charged with a home run was an outstanding leaping catch by Bandkins. All in all, the Tampa series was just one more batch of games and one more hotel room and set of buses and planes. And she had more important things at home to think about, like the custody case and Andy’s birthday and the first day of school.

  Andy’s birthday was the Tuesday before school started, but they planned to celebrate it the Monday before, which was her only off day during the upcoming home stand. Brenda wanted to do something special, like take the boys and some friends to Cedar Point or a water park, but Andy had been non-committal on the phone. She could see he was torn between wanting to take her up on the offer and not wanting to take anything from her. He had been adamant that he didn’t want to take a group of friends to the game on his actual birthday. To the best of her knowledge, Andy hadn’t skipped any more visits with Ed, and she wondered if perhaps there was some anti-Mom influence from that quarter.

  Andy finally decided he wanted to go to some big game center on the west side and play laser tag with a group of his friends. It was expensive, although they both knew the cost wasn’t the factor it would have been even a couple months earlier.

  It was nearly one a.m. by the time Brenda got home on Sunday night. Adele and Jon were asleep on the sofa. Brenda finally found Andy in the basement, surfing the Internet on the computer in the rec room. “Hi Andy,” she said as she walked over and gave him a quick hug. Doing so also gave her a chance to peek at the website he was on. It looked like some sort of online game. Nothing pornographic. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Thanks for staying up to greet me. It looks like Jon and Grandma didn’t quite make it.”

  “No. They fell asleep hours ago.” He hadn’t quite ducked out of her hug, but Brenda could tell he considered it an invasion of his space. Another week away had made him more like a man and less like a boy.

  She took a step back and leaned on the edge of the built-in desk that ran the length of the narrow room. The desk was one of the things Brenda had loved about the house when they first bought it. She had set up the space to do her art work in her spare time, something that never materialized. Somewhere in one of the drawers was a stack of notebooks with sketches and ideas, drawing pencils, and other supplies that she hadn’t touched in years. She tried to sound casual as she asked if he was ready for his birthday party the next day.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who did you end up inviting?”

  “Josh, Dante, Matt, and Aiden.”

  “Which Matt?” she asked. “Lee or Manning?”

  “Lee.” Brenda just gave a non-committal nod. She didn’t dare tell Andy that she thought Matt Manning was a delinquent in training. “And you’d better tell Jon that he isn’t playing every game with us,” Andy added. “He’s been all like, ‘Oh, we’re gonna have all these cool fights’ and ‘we’re gonna do this’ and ‘we’re gonna do that.’ He’s acting like it’s our party instead of my party.”

  “I’ll talk to him in the morning,” Brenda said. “And I will keep him out of your hair after you let him play a couple rounds with you and your friends.”

  “He can do one fight with us, that’s it.”

  “Two.” Andy gave her an annoyed look. “Be happy you’re going at all. Given that your mother is a pacifist, the idea that my son wants to fight on his birthday is something of a stretch.”

  “It’s just a game.”

  “It’s a war game.”

  Andy looked puzzled for a moment. “I don’t get why you’re so anti-fighting. Sometimes you have to fight—like if somebody is attacking you.”

  “I’ve said this to you before—I don’t believe human beings were meant to hit other human beings,” she said. “Hurting other people isn’t entertainment.”

  “I know. But laser tag isn’t really fighting. It’s not like paint ball—nobody really gets hit with anything. And it’s not as violent as football.”

  “I’m not interested in degrees of violence, Andy.” Brenda realized that this was neither the time nor the place to have a reasoned debate on the necessity of violence. Andy wasn’t in the mood for discussion, only concessions. “Look, if anyone ever attacks you, you have my permission to defend yourself.”

  “Gee, you’re so generous.”

  “I try. Now go to bed.”

  The party went well. Brenda stuffed Jon and Andy and Andy’s friends into the minivan and took them to the laser tag place, which was practically around the corner from where she had played with the Lightning earlier in the summer. Andy and his friends were nice about letting Jon tag along. Nobody argued, nobody got sick, and nobody threw food—in parenting terms, it was a big success.

  When Brenda and the fl
ock of boys got home, they were joined by Adele (who had picked up the ice cream cake, soda, and pizza), Dan, and Robin (who insisted on hearing all the details about the date with Charlie), and the parents of some of Andy’s friends, including Carl, whom Brenda hadn’t really talked to since her last Lightning game. They were all gathered in Brenda’s postage-stamp-sized backyard—kids on the driveway near the basketball hoop and the gate and adults in the back by what was once the vegetable patch. Brenda was slicing the ice cream cake when Carl arrived and didn’t even see him until he came up to her and picked up one of the last two plates of cake.

  “I think you deserve a treat after all your hard work,” he said, handing one of the plates to her.

  “Carl! Hi,” Brenda said and looked around to see that everyone had cake before she took the plate from him. “Thanks. It’s good to see you. And I’ve been meaning to call you. I’m sorry I just sort of ditched the team without much notice . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We’re all really glad you’re doing so well.”

  “Eh, I don’t know about well. I’ve had some bad outings.”

  “And you’ve had some really great ones.”

  “Well, thanks . . .” Brenda replied, getting a little flustered with the unexpected praise. “Here, come and sit down. I want to hear about the Lightning.”

  Carl gave her the quick low-down on her fellow team members. Bob’s wife and exceptionally cute baby had finally made an appearance. Gary had attempted to ask out Kathi O’Leary and been mightily shot down. “And I’m doing okay, considering we don’t have you to come in and save games for us anymore,” Carl added.

  “I’m so sorry . . .” Brenda began.

  “Just kidding. Come on, you’re living everybody’s dream.”

  Brenda sighed and ate a bite of ice cream cake, but it tasted like whipped air. She put the plate down on the picnic table. “Playing baseball for a living was never my dream,” she said after a moment. “Sometimes it’s like I’ve been plopped down into this life and I have no idea how I got here.”

  “I felt like that after Josh was born. Hell, I feel that way most of the time,” Carl said. He gave her a small grin. “You’re doing something good here. Too bad nobody can convince the Frickers of that.”

  “The who?”

  “The Frickers. That’s what we call the Ford Frick protesters.”

  Brenda felt a delicious little twist in her stomach. “I like it,” she said.

  Their conversation was interrupted by Jon, who came up to the picnic table and said that it was time for Andy to open his presents. Brenda rounded up the boys and the parents and the presents and watched as Andy opened a slew of gift cards, CDs, and computer games that she had never heard of. She trusted the other parents enough not to worry that there was anything egregiously misogynistic or violent in them, but still, she nonchalantly checked to see if anything had a parental advisory label.

  The new Gismo she gave Andy was a huge hit. When Andy opened it, there was a chorus of “Cool!” from his friends. Andy stared at the Gismo for a moment and said simply, “Wow.” Brenda had taped a note on the box that read, “For when you need to escape. Love, Mom.” She saw him read the note and, for and instant, he stopped. Stopped moving and stopped talking to his friends and just sat and looked at her little note. A small smile crept onto his face. Andy looked up at Brenda and said, “Thank you, Mom.” Across the crowded back yard, Brenda held her son’s gaze for a moment and felt something shift between them. She hoped it was for the better.

  Although she had no desire to see him, Brenda had invited Ed to the party—through Andy—because she knew it was the right thing to do. Since the call from his lawyer, she figured he wouldn’t actually come. Much to Brenda’s surprise, he showed up midway through the present opening, when the party was close to over.

  Brenda was sitting with Robin, Adele, and Matt Lee’s mother, Anna, when she saw Ed walk into the backyard. Jon immediately yelled “Dad!” and jumped up to give him a hug. Andy was sitting in the middle of his friends, all of them passing the gifts around and giving little exclamations of “Sweet!” or “Wicked!” over each item.

  “Hey Dad!” Andy called. Brenda hadn’t seen them together since the day Andy skipped his day with Ed. She kept trying to forget that was also the day Andy was caught shoplifting. Her eldest and his father seemed comfortable together—Andy holding up gifts and saying, “Check this out” and Ed smiling and offering some appropriate exclamation in return. Ed held his head slightly down, the only outward sign that he might be uncomfortable.

  Brenda had given Adele and Robin a quick low-down on the custody issue that morning, and when her mother saw Ed, Brenda could have sworn she heard Adele growl.

  “Are you okay?” Anna Lee asked.

  “I’ll be fine when he’s gone,” Adele muttered.

  “What’s going on?” Anna whispered to Brenda. “I thought your split was pretty amicable.”

  Brenda turned to Anna and her oh-so-high cheekbones. She didn’t know Anna that well, only as the parent of one of Andy’s friends, but they had talked at birthday parties or school events over the years. She supposed they were good acquaintances. The cheekbone thing had always bothered her. Ed used to say that the only thing higher than Anna Lee’s hips were her cheekbones. Sometimes it was hard to like a mom who was built like a supermodel. Brenda took a deep breath and tried to remember that Anna wasn’t the enemy.

  “I thought it was too, but he’s done some things lately that . . .” She shook her head and let her voice trail off just enough to allow Anna Lee’s mind to ponder the possibilities.

  Robin was sitting next to Anna and leaned over and whispered something to her. “Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed. As Anna’s eyes narrowed, Brenda realized why Matt Lee was such a model student; with a mother who could throw evil looks like that, any kid would shape up.

  After the present commotion had died down a bit and Jon was no longer hanging on his arm, talking a mile a minute, Ed walked over to Brenda and was confronted by four women, all sitting in lawn chairs with their arms crossed and glaring at him.

  “Hi,” Ed said. He looked sheepish.

  “Good evening, Ed,” Brenda said. She felt buoyed, being flanked by Adele, Robin, and Anna Lee and her cheekbones.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ed asked.

  “No, I’m sorry, but I have to start cleaning up. We’re out of ice cream cake, but help yourself to pizza before I put things away.” As Brenda said this, she could almost feel the ever-present anger spreading throughout her body. Usually a rush of angry adrenaline made her feel hot, but this was different. Instead of hot anger she had a cool rage and wondered how much her sinker would drop if she threw one at that moment.

  “It’ll just take a minute,” Ed said. “This is important.”

  “Ed, anything you want to say to me you should say to my lawyer.” With that, Brenda picked up an empty chip bowl and a couple dirty plates and went inside. She put the plates and bowl down and leaned on the counter for a moment, trying to calm herself but still remember this cool rush of anger for the pitcher’s mound. She heard the screen door open and close behind her, and Robin walked in, carrying more dirty plates.

  “It’s none of my business,” Robin said, “but maybe you should talk to Ed.”

  Brenda turned to face her best friend. “Why? Do you know how good it felt leaving him hanging for once? I’ve never wanted to hurt him before, but this whole custody thing . . . Forget it.”

  “Look, I know how poorly he treated you at the end, with that chick from his office and everything else. But Ed isn’t a horrible person. You wouldn’t have stayed with him for sixteen years if he was.” Robin sighed, clearly choosing her words carefully. “Okay, did you tell him about Andy getting caught shoplifting or fighting with the camp counselor or the guy who followed the boys home?”

&nbs
p; “No,” Brenda replied, feeling defiant.

  “If Dan and I ever broke up and Lindsey got into trouble, I’d sure as hell want to know about it. You haven’t been exactly fair to him either. It’s like you’ve decided what his role is going to be without even giving him the chance to be their dad.”

  “He had his chance, and he blew it,” Brenda replied and went back outside to clean up from the party. Even if Robin was making a reasonable point, that didn’t give Ed the right to file for primary custody. She wasn’t going to be Ed Haversham’s punching bag anymore—or anyone else’s.

  The next day, when she got to her locker room and found a Hustler centerfold with a photo of her face taped on the body, she decided that Pasquela and Cipriani should both pay. She knew her teammates’ routines enough to know that Cipriani, Pasquela, and Greg Landers always played Grand Theft Auto in the clubhouse for about fifteen minutes after the media left the locker room but before the game. It seemed that pretending to shoot people and slap around prostitutes was their idea of mentally preparing. Brenda went into the locker room a bit earlier than usual and took a seat at one of the round tables near the door. Anthony Fleetwood saw her and said hello, but most everyone else ignored her. She hadn’t realized how good she was at making herself invisible.

  Her targets were sitting in the rounded leather sofa in the middle of the room, engrossed in the video game. Pasquela’s locker was near the door on her side of the room. She stayed at the table for another thirty seconds or so, pretending to fuss with the lacing on her glove. Then she put her glove on a chair, silently stood up, and walked over to Pasquela’s locker. She slipped her hand into her pocket and palmed a few of the handful of tampons she had grabbed from her duffel bag before she left her locker room. Pasquela’s favored glove was sitting on the wide main shelf that ran the length of the locker. She picked it up and turned to face the rest of the room. She didn’t need to look too closely to quickly shove one tampon into each of the finger openings on Pasquela’s glove. If anyone noticed her, it would appear that she was fiddling with her own glove.