Barbara L. Clanton - Out of Left Field

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by Barbara L. Clanton


  Marlee couldn’t believe she had been pretending to kiss Susie. Susie was a girl. A girl! She pressed herself against the cold door and closed her eyes against the confusing emotions swirling through her head. She hoped he would start the car so they could leave. She had some serious thinking to do.

  He sighed, resigned to his fate. “Okay, Babe. Fine. I’ll be right back. I gotta pee.” She looked over at him as the interior light broke the darkness and was shocked at his red-faced expression. She wasn’t sure if he was angry or frustrated or just aroused. Probably all three. She closed her eyes again for a moment and shook her head. She couldn’t keep stringing him along. He had expectations. She had no guidelines and didn’t know the rules for this sort of thing, but something had to give and soon. She had the feeling he wasn’t going to stick around much longer unless she allowed him to get physical with her. This was the first time she had ever felt anything that intense with Bobby. But, she reminded herself, she hadn’t been kissing Bobby. She had been kissing Susie. Susie Torres, #7.

  The ride back to her house was even quieter than on the way out. The McAllisters’ house, a century-old farmhouse on thirty acres, sat isolated on the west side of C.R. 62. Bobby usually pulled the Camaro up the long gravel driveway past the wrap-around front porch and stopped the car at the kitchen door on the right side of the house. This time, though, he pulled into the driveway scarcely off the two-lane road and stopped.

  She took that as her signal to exit. “See you Saturday?”

  “Whatever.” She had barely gotten out when he threw the car in reverse and hit the gas. Gravel and dirt flew everywhere as he slammed back onto the road. He squealed his exit into the night.

  Why am I not head over heels for him? Marlee wondered as she walked the long driveway.

  “Honey,” Marlee’s mother called up from the kitchen. “I think I hear Jeri pulling in.” Marlee’s mother, Marge, didn’t look her forty-two years of age. Her mother’s short stature was proof enough that Marlee had gotten most of her genes from her late father, Bill. He had been tall and lanky, like Marlee, who had been looking down four inches at her mom since freshman year. Marlee’s thick blond hair also came from her father’s side of the family. Her mother’s hair was fine and dark brown, the color of the paneling in their living room. In fact, most people didn’t know they were related when first meeting them.

  “Okay, Mom. I’m coming,” Marlee called down from her room at the top of the stairs. She shoved the pile of discarded clothes into a corner. She had spent an incredible amount of time fretting over her attire for the evening and took one last look in the mirror. She had finally decided on a pair of faded, but clean, blue jeans, a plain white long-sleeved T-shirt, with a long-sleeved denim shirt on top. Her mother always told her she looked good in blue, because it brought out the color of her eyes. She also put on the gold earrings that her mother had given her for Christmas, a bracelet Bobby had given her, and her father’s gold watch. She decided not to wear her Cougar blue Clarksonville High School sweatshirt and tossed it onto her father’s recliner. A sweatshirt was way too casual. She nodded at her reflection, pleased with the final result.

  Marlee never wore much jewelry and prayed that Jeri wouldn’t say anything about the change. She did, however, hope that Susie would notice. Susie had only seen her in her softball uniform and had no idea what kind of clothes Marlee wore. And, on the flip side, Marlee had never seen Susie in street clothes, either. Butterflies danced in her stomach, but so far her knees remained steady. Marlee bounded down the back stairs that led to the kitchen.

  “Marlee,” her mother reprimanded, “you’re going to wear out those stairs.” She sounded exasperated, but Marlee knew her mother was teasing. “So where are you and Jeri going this evening? Are you meeting up with Bobby?”

  Marlee stammered a little because she knew her mother liked Bobby. “Um,” she hesitated, “no, we’re having a girls’ night out tonight.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, no boys allowed. We’re meeting up with the softball team from East Valley.” Marlee put her warm winter coat on over the denim shirt. She noticed her mother’s expression. “What? We can’t hang out with them?”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Her mother threw her hands up in mock defense and did her best to look innocent.

  “Yeah, but you had a face on.”

  “I didn’t know you would, what’s the phrase, hang on with your arch nemesis.” The sarcasm was very clear in her mother’s tone.

  “Mom,” Marlee exclaimed, “it’s hang out, not hang on. You are such a dweeblet sometimes.”

  “Dweeblet,” her mother mused. “I’m sure that’s not a compliment.” She sat down at the large round table in the spacious country kitchen. “And when are we going to have our own girls’ night? That Ellen Page you like has a new movie out.”

  Jeri’s car door slammed and Marlee heard Jeri’s quick footsteps echo on the gravel in the quiet chill of the evening.

  “I know, Mom. We’ve both been busy. The first thing you’ve got to do is get to one of my games. You missed most of them last season.” Marlee meant it to sound like a tease, but it came out more like an accusation.

  “Oh, I know, honey. I’m up to my eyeballs with work. Since we expanded our territory, I’ve got to travel all over the North Country.” She pushed a renegade lock of hair behind her ear. “Let me know when you play the Panthers next. That’s the real enemy, right? I’ll...” she hesitated, “make arrangements.” She patted Marlee on the arm.

  Jeri yanked open the squeaky screen door and barreled her way through the inside storm door. “Anybody home?” Jeri bellowed.

  “Chill out, Jeri. We’re right here.” Marlee put her hands over her ears in mock pain. “Okay Mom, we’re going. I’ve got my cell phone and my house key and I’ll be home by midnight.” All three of them said the word midnight at the same time and then broke out laughing. There had been many an argument about that particular curfew time, especially when Marlee and Bobby had been hanging out with Jeri and Dave. The boys liked to stay out well into the morning hours, but Marge McAllister would have none of it. She insisted her daughter be in by midnight. And as of yet, Marlee had not once missed her curfew.

  Jeri turned the Mustang around in the McAllister driveway.

  “So,” Marlee asked, “tell me again how you know Susie...and Christy.” She was proud of herself for throwing Christy’s name in at the last second.

  Jeri gunned the engine and spun the wheels on the gravel driveway. “Oops, sorry. Hope your mom didn’t see that.” She eased up on the accelerator and cautiously turned onto C.R. 62. “I really don’t know them, know them. In fact, I don’t know Christy at all. Mr. Torres, Susie’s dad, sells my dad paper stuff for the restaurant like napkins, placemats, and stuff. And you know my dad. He invites people to the restaurant all the time.”

  Marlee, of course, did know Jeri’s father. He spoke with a slight Italian accent and had big arms that pulled you into a bear hug if you got too close. His extra large frame betrayed the fact that he liked his own cooking. “You come to D’Amico’s,” Marlee said mimicking Jeri’s father. “We take care of you.”

  Jeri laughed. “Yeah, something like that. So my dad invited Susie’s dad to the restaurant. He brought the whole family, Susie’s mom, grandmother, Susie, and her little brother. I don’t know that much about her, but she looked familiar at the game the other day and then it clicked. I haven’t talked to her since last summer when her family came into the restaurant.”

  Marlee looked out the windshield into the endless night. The headlights carved a narrow slice through the darkness on the road that would take her to Susie. She wasn’t sure why, but she was glad that Jeri hardly knew Susie.

  Jeri nudged Marlee with her elbow. “Hey, you and Bobby should come by the restaurant tomorrow. I’m working the pizza side. My mom’s working the restaurant side so we can hang if I’m not busy. And speaking about Bobby—”

  “I wasn’t. You were. This
is girls’ night. Remember? No guy talk.”

  “Okay, okay. Grouch.” Jeri pouted. She changed the subject. “We’re going to Christy Loveland’s house, by the way. Christy’s parents are out of town and Susie says that the team usually hangs out there. I have no idea what’s in store for us, but there probably won’t be any guys. Hope that’s okay.”

  Marlee rolled her eyes and said, “That’s good, seeing how it’s supposed to be girls’ night and besides, the last thing Bobby needs to find out is that I ditched him to spend time with a bunch of guys.” Would Susie want to be at a party full of guys?

  Although the thirty-five-mile trip to East Valley only took about forty-five minutes, it seemed like hours to Marlee. With so many cars parked in front of Christy’s two-story suburban house they had to park four houses away in front of a similar two-story house.

  Marlee grabbed Jeri’s jacket by the sleeve as they walked up toward the house. “Jeri, this isn’t their victory party, is it? That would be really mean to invite us to their victory party. Don’t you think?”

  Jeri made a show of extracting Marlee’s hand from her sleeve, finger by finger. “Susie seems cool. Can’t vouch for Christy, but I don’t think Susie would do that. She told me to invite some people from our team. I could have asked some other people, Lisa I guess, but I figured we’d better check this out first.” Jeri smiled with her eyes and winked.

  Marlee laughed. “Oh, my God, who are you? Coach Spears? You’re winking now?” She smacked Jeri’s arm and then opened the outside screen door. Jeri was just about to knock when the solid oak front door opened and a blast of loud music hit them.

  “Yo. No violence at my house or I’ll have to kick some butt.” Christy opened the heavy door to let them in. “Look everybody. The infamous Cougar team is here. C’mon in.”

  Marlee started to introduce herself, but Christy interrupted her. “I believe we’ve already met.” At Marlee’s perplexed expression, Christy said, “Home plate? Tuesday? Captains’ circle?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Marlee stammered. “Duh. How could I forget?”

  They all shook hands and Christy, towering over Jeri, put a strong arm around Jeri’s bony shoulders. “Ahh, Jeri D’Amico of the famous D’Amico’s Italian Restaurant in beautiful downtown Clarksonville. Glad you could make it.” She steered Jeri toward the kitchen.

  Marlee was left to fend for herself. She recognized almost all of the East Valley players in the over-large sunken living room. As she looked around for Susie she couldn’t believe how fast her heart was beating. She scanned the faces from couch to couch to couch, but Susie’s face was not among them. A few of the girls had moved the oversized coffee table to one side of the room and danced together while others talked over the loud music. Some of the girls had beer that looked like Genesee Cream Ale by the green label, but most seemed to be drinking pop. Several of the East Valley players stopped their conversation to look at her standing at the threshold of the living room. Marlee felt like a deer on the first day of hunting season.

  “Hey, Pitcher!” someone called out enthusiastically. The friendly East Valley second baseman smiled and waved at her from the impromptu dance floor.

  “Hey, uh, Second Base!” Marlee called back. The other Panther players went back to their conversations now that Marlee, a potential intruder, had been tagged friendly. The second baseman had already turned back to her friends and Marlee wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe Susie was in the kitchen with Christy and Jeri.

  She’d almost made it to the kitchen when somebody tapped her on the shoulder from behind. Adrenaline torpedoed through her body. Susie. It had to be. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.

  A soft voice said, “Excuse me, but that’ll be five bucks.”

  Marlee instantly recognized the sweet voice of a certain left fielder. She reached for the wall to steady herself as she turned around.

  Susie’s brown eyes lit up when she said, “We simply cannot let a Cougar walk around in this Panther house free of charge, can we?”

  Marlee melted. I could get lost in those brown eyes. I can’t believe I’m standing right here next to her. Susie’s soft-as-rain auburn hair fell loosely around her face with a few locks brushed in front of both shoulders. She wore black jeans, a tight dark green youth softball t-shirt that complemented her hair perfectly, and a gold necklace that said ‘Susana.’ She’s stunning. Even in a t-shirt. And she’s talking to me. Marlee’s cheeks got very warm.

  Marlee cleared her throat and hoped her voice would not betray her. Sounding astonishingly normal, she said, “A five I don’t have, but I think maybe you owe me for that grand slam pitch I served you on Tuesday.”

  “Ahh, a pitcher with a sense of humor. Look, I was only getting even for that pitch you threw at my head. Oh, and that double of yours? I had to run after it, you know. Here, give me your coat.” She hung the coat on a hook near the front door and then led Marlee toward the kitchen. “Did you guys find the house all right?”

  “Yeah, but it took us forever to get here.”

  “Yup, I know. About forty-five minutes, right? And in May your team has to trek all the way back here to play us. I hope by then you’ll learn how to throw pitches that don’t hit people.”

  “I didn’t hit you,” Marlee protested. “You know I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Susie smiled and her nose crinkled up. “I know, Marlee. I’m just teasing you. C’mon.”

  They found Jeri and Christy in full command of the kitchen table and Jeri, of course, had already lit a cigarette and had a can of beer in front of her.

  Christy got up and opened the refrigerator door. “Cold one, Marlee?” Christy held out a Genny Cream Ale toward her.

  “No, thanks. Gotta stay in shape. We gotta play those Panthers again soon,” she joked and hoped Christy didn’t think she was a straight-laced prude. “Got any pop?”

  Marlee accepted a root beer. Christy offered the can of beer to Susie.

  “No thanks, Christy. I’m taking the night off, too.”

  “Well, fine then,” Christy feigned indignation, although Marlee detected a hint of the real thing. “Go on, keep your halos.” She waved them back toward the living room, “I’m in conference with Ms. D’Amico.” Clearly dismissed, Marlee let Susie lead her back into the living room.

  Susie introduced her teammates to Marlee not only by name, but also by what position they played in the field. Marlee relayed what kinds of pitches each of them liked and teased that she would, of course, not throw any of their favorite pitches to them at their next game. This seemed to help break the ice. She had sensed that the East Valley players hadn’t quite known how to handle two Clarksonville players in their midst. The East Valley players were friendly and she liked them almost as much as she liked the players on her own softball team. Almost. The East Valley Panthers were still her mortal enemies, after all.

  The Panther second baseman, whose name was Samantha, Sam for short, put a movie in the DVD player. Marlee thought Sam looked like a model, not a softball player. Sam’s blond hair hung loose, instead of bound in the high ponytail she seemed to prefer for playing. Everyone wanted a piece of the prime real estate on the couch directly facing the wide screen plasma TV, so three more girls joined Marlee and Susie on the couch and they all scrunched together. Marlee was thigh to thigh with Susie on one side and Sam on the other.

  “Are you okay?” Susie asked “We can move to the floor if you want.”

  I’m more than okay. The last thing Marlee wanted to do was move. Her thigh practically burned through her blue jeans where it touched Susie. “No, no,” she stuttered. “I’m just fine here as a Marlee sandwich.” She smiled at Susie who smiled right back, right into the depths of Marlee’s soul. Her crinkly nose is so cute when she smiles.

  Sam witnessed the exchange and said, “That’s the spirit, Pitcher. See? You fit right in.”

  The other girls hushed them as the opening scenes from A League of Their Own came up on the s
creen.

  When the movie reached its final scenes, Jeri and Christy had still not emerged from the kitchen to join the rest of the group. Still in conference, Marlee guessed. She, and everyone else, had heard Jeri and Christy getting louder and louder as the evening wore on. You definitely couldn’t miss Jeri D’Amico having fun. She realized she was a bit jealous that Christy monopolized Jeri’s time, but reasoned that she herself was far more interested in hanging out with Susie, anyway. So they were even.

  Someone, the Panther third baseman maybe, got up and turned the movie off. She then made an announcement. “It’s time for Truth or Dare.” A hushed excitement fell over the room. When the questioning started on the opposite end of the room, Marlee relaxed a little. She learned more about the East Valley players than she ever wanted to know. She learned who had cheated on a test and who had cut school. Eventually Marlee’s turn came up. When asked, she said, “Truth.” The question was, “Who was your first love?” She didn’t hesitate and answered, “Bobby.” But as soon as Marlee got the word out she regretted it. What would Susie think? After several moments of oohing and ahhing from her new friends for details, the game went on to someone else.

  Marlee looked at her watch and saw that it was just past 11:00. In a panic she excused herself from the game and hurried to the kitchen to let Jeri know that they had to leave right away if Marlee was going to make her midnight curfew.

  Marlee stopped short at the kitchen doorway and saw Jeri sprawled on the floor laughing. Christy was doubled over laughing hysterically.

  “What happened?” Marlee frowned. She reached down to help Jeri get up. “Why are you on the floor?”

  “Uh-oh.” Jeri struggled to get up on her own. “I’m in trouble,” she sing-songed. Christy snickered which made Jeri laugh more. “I gotta pee, I gotta pee,” Jeri exclaimed. “Which way?”

  She wavered trying to face the direction Christy pointed. She careened off the refrigerator and stumbled backward. Marlee caught her before she could fall again. She recoiled at Jeri’s sour breath. “How many beers did you have, Jeri?”

 

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