Throw Like a Woman

by Susan Petrone

  “Greg! Are you adding to our party?” McGall asked.

  “I’m trying to. Would you lovely ladies care to join us for dinner and maybe drinks later?”

  The ringleader of the two, who was not as pretty as her friend but had the hard, hot mess look of a girl who knew how to party, considered the request for a moment. “Eh, I think we’ll pass. Maybe if you guys played for a good team . . .” She and her friend snickered. They made Brenda ashamed to be female. No wonder so many men treated women like objects when so many women were willing to be treated like objects if the player was famous enough.

  “I’ll have you know that you’re talking to the third baseman with the highest fielding percentage in the American League, a guy with two Gold Gloves, and a contender for the AL Rookie of the Year,” she said and was surprised that her voice sounded as calm and measured as it did, because she could feel her nerves rattling around her stomach. “And they all play for a team that’s a playoff contender.”

  “And what are you? Their only groupie?” The two girls snickered again.

  “No, I’m the stopper. It’s my job to stop people from making an ass of themselves. So why don’t the two of you go off and have your standard meaningless one-night stand with some guy who won’t respect you enough to remember your name the next day because you clearly don’t respect yourselves?” She paused a moment, her heart pounding as though she had just run wind sprints across the outfield. “Good night,” she said and went into the restaurant. She didn’t need to know what happened next.

  Ryan was right behind her, and McGall and Landers were on their heels. They were laughing like giddy schoolboys.

  “Didn’t I tell you Haversham was a badass?” McGall stammered in between loud braying guffaws.

  “Yeah, but you’re supposed to help us pick up women, not insult them,” Landers giggled.

  Ryan didn’t say anything to her, just said hello to the hostess, who asked “Four in Lily’s section?” in a melodic voice. The restaurant had a series of three dining areas, which didn’t do much to reduce the noise. Looking around, Brenda couldn’t see anything soft on the walls or the floor—it was all hard surfaces reflecting back the sound of dozens of people talking and eating. Not her kind of place, but it was where Ryan Teeset’s dream girl was working, so there she was.

  Lily was a pretty girl. Probably no older than Teeset, with a small, compact frame and long black hair pulled back. Brenda thought she might be half Caucasian and half Chinese. For a kid like Teeset, who grew up in an all-white, rural area, she was clearly an exotic creature. Brenda spotted her across the dining room—Lily’s eyes visibly lit up when she saw Ryan. McGall and Landers might respectively be a whack job and an asshole, but they could read women. This girl definitely liked Ryan.

  She took their order as professionally as possible. Landers and McGall kept up a steady stream of jokes, but to their credit didn’t say anything overtly offensive. Ryan placed his order and then silently fiddled with his napkin after Lily took their menus and left.

  “This was a stupid idea,” he said, looking down at his huge hands, which were crushing the napkin into a tight little wad.

  Brenda looked across the table at McGall and Landers. “Both of you be quiet.” Amazingly, they listened. “No, it’s not,” she said to Ryan. “She likes you.”

  “I gave her my email address and cell phone number when I was here in April and again last night, but she hasn’t used them.”

  “Of course she hasn’t—she thinks you’re one of those guys,” Brenda said, with a tilt of her head toward their companions.

  “Thanks a lot,” Landers said.

  “Face it, Landers. You’re a man-whore,” McGall said.

  “You would be, but you’re too ugly,” Landers said with a smile.

  “Edgy. I’m edgy.”

  The McGall-Landers Show went on for most of dinner. Near the end of the meal, Brenda excused herself to the restroom, which was at the far end of the next dining room. Lily was at the servers’ station near the restrooms. Acting the matchmaker made Brenda feel old, but she persevered. She hoped someone might someday repay the favor if Jon or Andy were ever in love with a girl who wasn’t sure about them.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  Lily started saying, “Can I help you?” even before she turned and saw Brenda standing there. “Oh, hello. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. But if you have a moment, I just wanted to talk to you about Ryan Teeset—the nice-looking, tall young man at my table.”

  “I know who he is,” Lily said, and she lowered her eyes just for an instant when she said this, which made Brenda think that Ryan really might have a chance.

  “I play baseball for the Indians too . . .” Brenda started to say.

  “I know,” Lily said. “Practically every woman in America knows who you are,” she added with a smile.

  “Not all of them,” Brenda replied. “But this isn’t about me. This is about Ryan. Look, I travel with these guys and work with them, and yes, a lot of them are big cheating half-wits who chase women. But some of them aren’t. Ryan isn’t. He’s a kind, decent guy. And he really likes you.”

  “He lives in South Dakota. I live in California. I don’t see much of a future.” Brenda wasn’t sure why she hadn’t expected such a beautiful young woman to seem so pragmatic. It was refreshing.

  “He’s from South Dakota,” Brenda said. “I don’t think he’s chosen where he wants to live permanently. And even so, all he’s asking you to do is to give him a call or text or email him once in a while. Just start a conversation. You don’t have to marry the guy. He only wants to get to know you. That’s all. Just give him a chance.”

  Lily considered this. Brenda tried not to consider how her words might apply to her own life. “Maybe,” Lily said.

  “Thank you,” Brenda said.

  When she returned to the table, the guys peppered her with questions, which Brenda deftly ignored. She simply said to Ryan, “I did my best. It’s up to her.”

  “Thanks, Brenda,” Ryan said in his endearing drawl. He seemed to trust Brenda’s word and didn’t pester her with questions. McGall and Landers, however, kept up their standard banter. It got so bad that Brenda had to threaten to put Vicks VapoRub in their jocks if they said anything offensive when Lily brought the check.

  Brenda noticed that Lily seemed to avoid their table during the meal, sending the bus boy over to check on things or refill drinks. But she did bring the check, gently placing it in the center of the table and saying, “I can ring this up whenever you’re ready” before quickly retreating. Landers grabbed the check, certain that she had written her phone number on it. She hadn’t.

  “But since you picked it up first, Landers,” McGall said, “that means you’re buying.”

  “The hell I am,” Landers replied. “Teeset’s buying. He’s the one who wanted to come here.”

  “We’re dividing it four ways,” Brenda glanced at the check. “I need sixty dollars from each of you.”

  “Sixty bucks?” Landers complained. “Are you giving her a one hundred percent tip?”

  “No, twenty percent. And you’re getting off easy. Do you have any idea how much you and McGall drank?”

  “Not enough to get me drunk,” McGall said. “Let’s get another round.”

  “Drink on your own time,” Brenda said. “I want to get home.”

  “Oh yeah, you’re a fan of Today in Sports, aren’t you, Haversham? Don’t want to miss old Charlie Bannister at eleven.” Landers played it perfectly, without tipping a hint to McGall or Teeset that he had anything on Brenda.

  “Yeah,” Brenda said in a nonchalant tone. “I watch it right after I watch my soap operas.” She didn’t dare look Landers in the eye but just threw it out there as an aside while she got her money out of her purse. The per diem money they received never f
ailed to astound her. Having several hundred in cash at one time always made her feel like a drug dealer.

  McGall laughed. “I think Haversham goes back to her room and reads, like, nineteenth-century novels and does embroidery. Either that or you’ve got something going on the side with Panidopolous.”

  “No, my doomed affair with you ruined me for any other man, McGall.” Brenda was ready to go. She felt that she had done all she could to help Teeset’s case with Lily, beyond that, having Landers and McGall acting buddy-buddy made her uncomfortable. She didn’t trust them enough to believe it was genuine, and even if it were, she wasn’t playing baseball to make friends.

  There was no touching scene when Lily came to get the check. She didn’t look deep into Teeset’s eyes and say she’d call him, and he didn’t stand up and profess his love in front of the entire restaurant. The one small part of Brenda that still felt some degree of optimism would have been delighted to see something like that happen. The rest of her knew better.

  Ryan said he’d “just be a minute,” so Brenda waited with McGall and Landers outside the restaurant. The two of them were screwing around on the sidewalk, telling jokes and planning their next move. Brenda remembered being in her twenties, when going out to dinner was the beginning the evening’s activities instead of the entire evening’s activity. She and Ed had been happy then. At least, she thought they’d been. The way things turned out seemed to call into question periods that she thought had been good in their shared life.

  She had been overjoyed when each of the boys was born, but there were times when caring for them felt like a chore. She hadn’t seen that in Ed, not when the boys were little. Maybe because he wasn’t with them all day, every day, like she was. And yet that time seemed happier than most of the past year, when there had been too many days where she wasn’t sure if she wanted to sit in a corner and cry or hit something.

  Ryan came out of the restaurant and sheepishly looked at her and then at Landers and McGall. “Sorry I took so long,” he said.

  “Did you nail her in the bathroom?” McGall asked in that way he had of making everything sound like it was half joke, half sincere.

  “Bathroom? No wonder you can’t get a date, Neanderthal,” Landers said. “You bang waitresses in the manager’s office; sometimes there’s even a couch in there.”

  “Goodnight, boys,” Brenda said.

  “Where are you going, Haversham?” Landers asked. “The night is young.”

  “But I’m not.”

  Landers and McGall gave her a chorus of mock disapproval. As she was leaving, Ryan murmured a “thank you” to her. Once she had extricated herself from the guys and gotten back to the hotel, the only thing that seemed appealing was going to bed. Sleep was one of the few things on which she could rely.

  •◊•

  Excerpt from the transcript for Today in Sports with Charlie Bannister, ESPN, September 18:

  Charlie: Welcome back to Today in Sports. I’m Charlie Bannister. With me, as he is every Friday, is former major leaguer Howie Wojinski for our weekly look at the world of baseball. Howie, good to see you again. What can you tell me about the American League playoff race?

  Howie: Nothing you don’t already know, Charlie. Over the last few weeks, the Yankees have chipped away at the Red Sox lead and now have the AL East all sewn up . . .

  Charlie: Big surprise there. That never happens.

  Howie: In the AL West, it’s still the Mariners’ division to lose.

  Charlie: Which means all the excitement is coming from that bastion of small-market mediocrity . . .

  Howie: The AL Central?

  Charlie: One and the same, my friend.

  Howie: Charlie, listen closely because I’m only going to say this once and I will probably never say it to you again, but Charlie, you were right.

  Charlie: Call NASA. The world has stopped revolving on its axis.

  Howie: About a month ago, you said you thought the Indians could take the second wildcard spot from the White Sox and I didn’t believe you.

  Charlie: You accused me of being a heavy drinker.

  Howie: The way they played in the first half made their chances of seeing anything in October but trick-or-treaters look pretty slim, but their second half has been nothing short of remarkable.

  Charlie: Amazing what can happen when you find a good stopper.

  Howie: Again with Haversham.

  Charlie: She’s good.

  Howie: Okay . . .

  Charlie: She’s really good.

  Howie: Okay. Okay. You’re right. She’s proven herself. She’s good.

  Charlie: Thanks, Howie. It takes a big man to admit he was wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  •◊•

  When Brenda finally walked into her house after the West Coast road trip, it was 3:30 in the morning. She grabbed an extra blanket from the linen closet and laid down on the couch to grab a couple hours of sleep. She awoke to find the boys already showered and dressed and sitting in the kitchen with Adele eating cereal. “Good morning,” Brenda said as she half-staggered into the kitchen, almost embarrassed to be interrupting their breakfast.

  Jon jumped out of his chair as soon as he saw her. “Mom! You’re home! You’re home!” he shouted. It made Brenda feel like a present under the Christmas tree. “I missed you,” he said, snuggling into her side.

  Brenda sighed and held him close for a moment, knowing that one day, probably soon, he would wake up and declare himself too old to be cuddled. “I missed you too, sweetie.”

  “Hey Mom,” Andy smiled. “Welcome home. Again.” Brenda walked over to Andy and gave him a one-armed hug, and to her relief, he didn’t pull away. The thought of him living with Ed, of calling Ed’s place “home” made her hold on even tighter. “Come on,” Andy extricated himself from her arms. “You weren’t gone that long.” She was pleased to see that he had a playful little gleam in his eye as he said it.

  “Dobre rano, moja drahá,” Adele said, getting up. “What can I get you?”

  “Nothing, thanks,” Brenda replied.

  “No one wants me to make them breakfast anymore,” Adele said in mock dismay.

  “I am eating breakfast,” Jon unfolded himself from Brenda and went back to the table. “I just like cereal. It has vitamins and stuff in it too so it’s good for you.”

  “I’m not really hungry this early,” Andy said.

  “What about lunch? Can I make some sandwiches for you two?” Brenda asked.

  “They have a burrito bar on Mondays . . .” Jon pleaded.

  Adele spoke before Brenda had the chance, reminding Jon that if he wanted to buy his lunch today that was it for the week—he’d have to bring his lunch the other days. Jon didn’t say anything else, but his look asked why he couldn’t buy his lunch every day.

  During breakfast, the boys caught her up on the first few weeks of school, reminding Brenda that Ms. Porter was Andy’s Algebra teacher, not his Civics teacher and that Jon’s gym teacher had once played a full season in the NFL and wasn’t that cool? It was the type of information about their lives that she used to know. Ed had always been the clueless one who needed to ask things like whether the boys were still friends with the Amatti kids even though Vince Amatti had stolen Andy’s hat and soaked it in ketchup or if Jon still liked That Little Indian Girl when the girl in question, Ani Patel, had moved away back in second grade. Ed was the one who didn’t know the details of the boys’ lives. Not her.

  Adele stayed until the boys left for school, waiting at the end of the block for the school bus along with Brenda. As the bus pulled away, her mother turned to her and asked, “How are you going to enjoy your day off?”

  “Sleep, maybe.” This was the only off day until the end of the season, and Brenda wasn’t sure if she had too many things to do or not enough. They started walking back to the house.r />
  “I spoke to Robin the other day, and she mentioned she hadn’t talked to you since Andy’s birthday party,” Adele said. Brenda nodded, trying to avoid the passive-aggressive trap her mother was laying out for her. No, she hadn’t talked to Robin for a few weeks. Why would she want to talk to someone who was taking Ed’s side?

  They had reached the back door. “This is where I leave you, but I’ll be back tomorrow night to stay with the boys while you’re at the game,” Adele said. She looked up at the clear September sky. “What a gorgeous day. Why don’t you take your sketchbook to Euclid Creek Park like you used to?”

  It isn’t polite to tell one’s mother that she’s crazy, but Brenda was tempted. “I don’t think so . . . I haven’t really done any drawing for a while.”

  “All the more reason to start again,” her mother said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It always seemed to make you happy.”

  Adele left, leaving Brenda alone. There was laundry and other chores to do around the house. There were also her mother’s lingering words and unanswered messages from her best friend. “I hate it when Mom’s right,” Brenda said as she called Robin.

  “Hey, stranger. Welcome home,” Robin answered. She didn’t sound quite as cheery as usual.

  “Hi. Sorry it’s taken me soo long to get back to you. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “I know.”

  “I need to apologize for getting so angry with you about the whole thing with Ed and the custody agreement. I suppose I was angry because you’re right.”

  “Aren’t I always?” Robin giggled.

  “Just most of the time.”

  “Brenda, I know you and Ed can figure out a reasonable custody agreement.” Robin’s voice had a little lilt to it as she added, “And if you can’t, I’ll help you kick his ass.”