Taylor Made

by kj lewis

  “Mags! Graham!” Everyone greets us as we enter into the kitchen. Everyone is here: his parents, Ben and Ruth, his sister Lucy, Adam and Jules, Matt and Becca. Lucy bounds over to me and gives me a hug. We spent time hanging out together the last time I was here, and I helped her organize her closet into some new looks.

  I hear him coming before I see him. I turn just as Bruiser slides across the floor right into me, almost knocking me off my feet.

  “Bruiser,” Graham admonishes as I drop to my hunches to love on him and get slobbery kisses. He is the Taylor’s guard dog. He’s a big baby, but I know he would tear someone apart if he had to. Bruiser and I ran a lot the last time I stayed here. He slept most nights with me, too. Graham bends to pet him.

  “Even my dog is smitten. Bruiser doesn’t like anyone, do you boy?” Graham says the last part in a low voice that humans use for only two things: to talk to babies or to pets. He’s a beautiful Shepherd-Pit mix. Eighty pounds of solid muscle.

  Graham makes his way to his parents, kissing his mom and shaking his dad’s hand.

  “I brought your suitcase,” Becca tells me.

  “Ah, I was wondering about your choice of outfits,” Jules comments.

  “I was stuck. I’m not a hanger girl like you guys. No way is my rear fitting in a two.”

  “I have some fours in the closet.”

  “And I’m a size six, sometimes an eight.” I make a face at her.

  “You could have raided my closet dear, I’m an eight.” Ruth greets me with a kiss to the cheek.

  “It was no big deal. I hung here most of the time.”

  Everyone’s already started setting the table on the deck for brunch. The French doors across from the kitchen are open to the outside. I take the plates out to the table and start setting spots for everyone. Their deck, like the balcony that covers it above, overlooks the pool and the ocean. The breeze coming off the water is perfect. I bring out the flowers from the table in the kitchen and place them on the blue paisley table cloth.

  Once all the food has found a home on the table, we all take a seat and start the passing of plates. There’s spinach quiche, bacon, biscuits, fresh fruit, cheese and an assortment of homemade jams. This all must have taken so much prep work, I can’t help but wonder how long everyone must have been here before we heard them. It reminds me so much of our Sunday breakfasts with my Grandmother. My distant thoughts have me pausing with one of the plates in mid-pass, prompting an elbow to my side from Adam, who is sitting next to me.

  “Earth to Mags…Where’d ya go?”

  “Oh, um, sorry,” I say softly. “I was just remembering Sunday breakfasts when I was growing up.” I say passing the fruit to Ruth sitting at the head of the table to my right.

  “Do you miss home dear?” Ruth asks from across the table. She passes the fruit to Graham on her right. She has to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. He’s reading something on his phone.

  “I don’t miss home, but I miss my family.” Knowing that I have lost everyone in my family, she reaches over and squeezes my hand. It’s a motherly gesture.

  The table bustles with conversation. This is the first time that Ben and Ruth have met Matt and Becca.

  “Emme, did you get along with Graham okay the last couple of days? I should have called to tell you he would be here. The last time you visited he was still in Japan working.”

  “We got along fine, Ruth. There were no problems at all,” I answer, trying desperately to make sure my face doesn’t reveal more.

  “Well, we’re so glad you’re home dear,” she says to Graham, who still has his head in his phone. I kick his leg with my foot to get his attention. As if she doesn’t notice, or as if she’s used to him multi-tasking, she continues with her thought.

  “Are you done sweetheart or will you have to go back?”

  Crickets. Bueller?

  I reach across the table and grab the phone from his hands and put in on my lap. He looks at me like I have lost my mind. Leaning slightly up, he reaches for it just as I slide it between my legs.

  “I’ll go in there,” he threatens.

  “Not if you expect to leave with all your digits attached. Your mother is talking to you. She deserves your attention.” Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Taylor.

  “I’m glad to be home, Mom. If I have to go back, it will be a regular trip. I won’t have to stay as long as I did the last time.” After he responds to her, he looks at me with a glare that tells me he indeed can multitask.

  I realize everyone is watching us. It must be the first time they’ve ever seen him challenged, and they’re curious to see how he handles me taking his phone.

  I look to Jules to ask her a question when I catch his hand reaching for my Diet Coke out of my peripheral vision. I slap his hand just before he picks it up.

  “Leave my drink alone.” My tone is sharp. “I don’t drink coffee. This is my start-off drink.” I look at him like he has eight heads and is trying to maim a small child all at the same time. It’s a battle of the wills and I don’t intend to lose.

  “Did I miss something,” Ruth asks.

  “Mags is the girl I told you Graham met on the plane,” Adam answers with a piece of pineapple in his mouth. Something flitters in Ruth’s eyes and she smiles and nods, like the recognition just set in.

  “You’re going to have two-headed babies drinking that much soda,” Graham announces like he’s the six-o’clock world newscaster.

  “Actually, she’s good. James can’t have kids,” Becca explains. I know she thinks she is taking up for me, but she realizes that she might have shared too much. “I’m sorry, James,” she says embarrassed.

  “No worries. It’s not a secret. It’s not like it’s something I have any control over. Plus, Ruth is my OB-GYN,” I say nodding to my right.

  Everyone carries on, and I catch Graham looking at me. He’s so hard to read. I can’t tell what he is thinking.

  “Oh my God, Mags, I can’t believe I didn’t ask first thing! Tell us what happened?” Jules says from the end of the table.

  “Happened with…?” I say asking for a clue.

  “The rescue. It was in the paper. You rescued Richard Raines’ son.”

  “How was that in the paper?”

  “A billionaire’s son is rescued, it’s going to make the paper,” she says like I’m dim.

  “Richard Raines is a billionaire?” Okay, so the looks I’m getting now tell me I am, in fact, a bit dim. I had no idea. I mean, I figured he was wealthy, but never a billionaire.

  “There’s nothing to tell. He was in distress and I helped him. He’s recovering at the hospital and doing well. No big deal.”

  “Three people died in the currents yesterday, Mags. I would say it was a pretty big deal,” Adam informs me.

  “My sister was an ocean life guard for a summer. She trained me to handle rip currents.”

  “When did you live by the ocean?” Becca asks.

  “The year she and Addie lived in their car. They moved to the beach for the summer,” Matt answers for me, digging at the food on his plate.

  “Who’s Addie?” Lucy asks.

  “My sister.”

  “You were homeless?” she asks.

  “We had a home. It just had four wheels.” I focus on eating.

  “Why?”

  “Lucy,” Adam admonishes.

  “What?”

  “It’s okay,” I tell Adam. I know it is hard for her to understand. She has had a privileged life and I am sure has never known someone who lived in their car. Her intentions aren’t hurtful.

  “After our Mama died, we didn’t have a home to live in.” Graham catches my eye.

  “You didn’t have any other family?” Lucy’s thrown and genuinely perplexed.

  “My grandparents were killed in a small plane crash when I was ten. They had a farm and a little money they left us, but Tony, our step-dad, took everything and left the day we found out Mama had lymphoma.”

 
“What did you do without any money?”

  I don’t want to be questioned, but I’m patient with her.

  “I was fifteen. I found a job that week, and Mama started chemo. For a year it was the three of us. Mama, me, and Addie. I stayed in school but I also worked full time to compensate what her disability didn’t cover. We moved to a small one-bedroom apartment, and Addie took care of her while I was at work. I’d relieve her when I came home, and she would study while I took care of Mama. Some days were harder than others, but we still had laughter and each other. Mama made every day as special as she could.” I say all of this as matter-of-factly as I can, thanking God I made it through it without a breakdown.

  “I’m so sorry, Emme,” Lucy says sincerely. “How long ‘til she died?

  “She died May the next year.” I add before she can press for more, “Mama had a small insurance policy that she had cashed out, and it was just enough for a private burial with just me and Addie.

  “So that’s why you lived out of your car?” Becca joins the questions.

  I shrug. “We called Tony. Mama had arranged for him to stay our legal guardian, but he wanted nothing to do with us. We had no family other than his. We didn’t know any of his people. They never cared about us. Never met us. So,” I exhale, “we told our friends and their parents we were living with Tony, that he had moved back, and we made it on our own. We stayed in our apartment until we couldn’t afford it anymore. After that we lived in our car, my grandpa’s Scout we inherited when they died. Addie worked the desk at a local gym on weekends, so we had open access to showers. We would go each morning, work out for thirty minutes or so and then shower and head to school. All a normal-looking routine to the average observer. We made it to graduation with only a couple of close friends knowing that we lived out of our car for a year.”

  Addie and I were a team. We had been through the unthinkable and survived it. Together.

  I pass a plate of fruit to Adam, he leans down and kisses my temple. I’m suddenly aware of the eyes on me.

  “Don’t,” I say to Jules when I see a tear fall down her cheek.

  “Shut it. I’m allowed.” She’s softly defiant.

  “I don’t need you to.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Lucy says as I rise and start clearing the plates.

  “You didn’t, baby. I promise. Ask Jules and Matt. If I didn’t want to answer, I wouldn’t have.”

  Changing the subject, I announce that I’m going running. “It’s rained so much here the last couple of days, I’m behind in my training schedule. How is yours going, Ben?” He is training for the marathon, too.

  “I’m a day or so behind myself.”

  “Want to go with me?”

  “I would love to, but we have our annual softball game. There’s a track there if you want to go there to run?”

  “Really?” He has my attention now. “I’d rather play. Can I?”

  “Sure,” Ben says.

  “No,” Graham says at the same time. “It’s a league of grown men. She could get hurt,” he clarifies for everyone looking at him.

  “Oh my goodness! You make me want to lay square eggs. I played in high school,” I tell him still holding the two plates I picked up.

  “Nonsense, son. It’s just a yearly pick-up game. You can play on my team, Emme.” I knew I liked Ben. I can see similarities in all the Taylor men. They are all very good-looking, starting with their dad. “I have an extra glove you can use.”

  “Alright then. Cheering section it is for Becca and me,” Jules says rising to pick up more plates.

  With everyone pitching in, it only takes about fifteen minutes to clean the kitchen. Matt carries my suitcase upstairs and grabs Becca’s to take to their room on the first floor. He stops, enveloping me in a hug that is comforting.

  “I love you,” he says with no explanation needed. I know it is because I opened up at breakfast.

  “I love you, too.”

  A throat clearing brings our eyes up. Graham is in the door way. Not bothered by Graham in the least, Matt kisses my forehead before grabbing the suitcase and heading downstairs.

  I sit to put on my tennis shoes. I think he wants to say something, but he either thinks better of it or he’s working through my friendship with Matt.

  “I’m serious,” he starts. “This is an annual game, and these guys play hard. I don’t want you playing.”

  I move into the bathroom and start French-braiding my hair into two long pigtails, the way my mom always did before my softball game. I put on a t-shirt and a pair of tight black running pants that fall just below the knee. I continue to ignore Graham and head downstairs. Everyone is ready to go. I just now notice that Matt, Adam, and Graham are all wearing the same blue shirt. Ben’s is yellow. Different teams. Great.

  “Are we playing you guys?” I ask.

  “Yep,” Graham says like he is trying to finish his point from upstairs. “And we haven’t lost a game in ten years.”

  “Well that was before they had me. I’m their secret weapon.”

  Once we’ve made it to the ballpark, Ben and I go into one dug out and the boys go into another. Ben introduces me to the other men on our team. Two of them are my clients, but I don’t tell anyone, of course. I also learn that teams are divided by age groups and these men have been a team together for almost twenty years. They’re all fit and healthy-looking men in their forties and fifties.

  It’s slow pitch softball. I prefer fast, but I’m just happy to get to play. You can steal bases after the ball leaves the pitcher’s hand, other than that, the rules are pretty standard. The lineup has me batting last, which I don’t mind since I know that I won’t be able to hit it as far as these guys do. I’m also catching. I’m younger, I have better knees, they say. We all get our hands into the circle and I smile through their little pre-game chant. Once both teams circle around home plate to meet the umpires, the trash talk begins.

  Both sides are dishing it out pretty good, but I’m just minding my own business when one of the guys starts really giving it to me. I saw him earlier with a girl who eye fucked Graham and Adam. Jules noticed it, too. She wasn’t as nice about it as I was.

  After a few warm-up insults, the guy finally says, “I knew you guys were desperate, but desperate enough to take on a girl?”

  My team looks to me to see how I am going to handle it. I see my boys about to say something to him, when I hold up my hand to stop them. Ben just stands there with the confidence that I will address this asswipe.

  In my sweetest southern teaching voice, “See, y’all,” I say to the men on my team, “you can have a little penis and still be a dick.”

  Matt and Adam fall over themselves laughing. I’m going to have to pick my team up out of the dirt they are laughing so hard. The umpire just shakes his head. Then I catch a smirk and slight nod from Graham. He knows I won that one, and he’s proud. Something about knowing that swells my heart a little.

  We’re visitors, so we bat first. We have a productive first few innings, but we are tied two-two in the bottom of the fourth. Small-penis guy gets a hit and makes it to first base. I’ve been watching him, so I know he is going to steal second base. Ben is playing short stop. I call his name and make eye contact so he knows what my plans are. As soon as the ball leaves the pitcher’s hand, he takes off for second base. I catch the strike then come up on a throw to second base. The throw couldn’t be more perfect. Ben tags penis guy out by a mile. Whew, is he pissed. At the top of the fifth, Graham’s team moves in close when I step up to bat, like I can’t hit far enough for them to stand in their usual places. They’re trying to intimidate me, but my strike zone is much smaller and I get walked.

  We make it to the bottom of the ninth. We are up by two. There’s a runner on second and small-penis is on first. We have two outs. Graham comes up to bat. I let the team know we only need one out then I quietly cheer Graham on, even though he is on the other team.

  He takes the first pitch, and I co
me up throwing to third, pushing Graham out of my way, but I’m a tad behind the runner. He’s safe.

  “You pop up too soon. You’re going to get hit with the bat.” He’s still mad that I’m playing.

  “You didn’t even swing.” I’m equally short. Graham’s foot placement tells me he is going to hit to center field. I yell our centerfielder’s name to let him know it’s coming his way. The next pitch Graham gets what he wants and hits it straight to where I predicted.

  It lands at the fence, the centerfielder just missing it. He throws to the cutoff, who gets the ball to me just as small penis, the tying run, rounds third. He gets the signal to hold from the third-base coach, but ignores him. He barrels towards me. I brace myself. If he would just slide, I could tag him out, but I know he is going to run over me in hopes I’ll drop the ball.

  I thought I was prepared, but he lowers his shoulder like he’s busting through a door to get out of a fire. Right before he makes contact I jump out of his path, tagging him with the ball in my gloved hand. The lack of expected body contact has him tripping and rolling ten to fifteen feet with a loud thump. A hush falls over the crowd not believing what just happened.

  The umpire looks at me and I open my gloved hand to show him the ball. He calls small-penis out with what looks like pure enjoyment. Our team wins by 1.

  Before I have time to respond, Matt has firmly planted his fist into small penis’s face, shouts a few expletives at him, and walks away. What the hell?

  Once everyone is settled, we make our way back to the car, all squeezing in. Everyone is talking about the game. I’m in the middle row and Matt is in the back seat. I turn towards him.

  “What were you thinking?” I’m indignant. “You could have hurt your million dollar hands. Don’t ever do that again! Not to mention that it makes me look like I need my big brother to fight my battles for me. And I don’t!”

  “Don’t start, James. I’m allowed to care about you. You didn’t need me to fight your battle today, but I won’t apologize for it. If the tables were turned, we would have had to pull you off that guy. All I did was give him a little love pat to let him know his attempt to ram into you wasn’t appreciated.”