Christmas and Cleats

by Solly, Clare

  “What’s wrong, son?” Frank asked seeing Joe’s laughter change to strain.

  “It’s nothing,” Joe said as he shook off the feeling. “The paint and supplies are in your truck, you said?”

  Joe started toward the front door.

  “You know, son,” Frank said, not moving, “The past always finds us, no matter how far we run from it.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, Frank.” He sighed. “And that is true about this house, too,” Joe replied matter-of-factly. “It’s not going to fix itself.”

  “Right you are, my boy. Now where do we start?” Frank said as he followed Joe out to Frank’s truck. As they began to unload, Joe started to feel his anxiety starting to lift.

  Chapter Three

  “You did WHAT to Joe Thomas?” shrieked Hetty as she burst through the museum doors wagging her dark pony tail side to side as she looked up. She didn’t disguise her astonishment. No one could make a puffy vest look as good as Hetty did. Dressed in leggings, lambs fur boots and a waffle weave shirt, Hetty was curvy and stunning. Even if she was dressed comfortably.

  “That,” Dottie said as she was on a ladder hanging up the garland up by the cornice, “was totally an accident.”

  “You know I don’t believe in accidents,” Hetty briskly reminded Dottie. “I also don’t believe you ran into Joe on his first day back in town.”

  “How did you—” Dottie climbed down from the ladder, “Oh! Frank and Murray can’t keep a secret.”

  “You know those two, East Haddam’s own grouchy gossips. Not a thing happens that they don’t pick up the phone let everyone know right after it happens. I swear they must have a group text with the whole town on it,” Hetty joked. She then turned serious. “I hear you aggressively dumped an entire display of wreaths on his head.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Dottie protested putting her hands on her hips.

  “Well that is the rumor around town,” Hetty goaded.

  “I was reaching up for a second wreath for the decorating, that you,” she accused Hetty, “convinced me I needed to do to spruce the place up and to feel better!” Dottie got worked up as she moved around Hetty to the pecan finished staircase that was just inside the front door. Carefully she started to wrap garland around the bannister. “So, I was just doing what you told me, and whammo—the wreaths were too high, and they came tumbling down on Joe’s head,” she dismissively shrugged.

  Hetty ran around to the other side of the bannister so she could face Dottie. “And what did you feel?”

  “Nothing. Well, bad that I hit him over the head with wreaths,” she chuckled at her own joke. Dottie looked at Hetty who now had her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re implying Hetty.”

  “You mean to tell me you didn’t feel anything? No butterflies or shortness of breath?”

  “No,” Dottie said unconvincingly. “Of course not. You know I’ve been dating Harold since we were juniors. Joe was always just a... buddy,” Dottie said as she crossed the room to get away from Hetty’s stares. “What?”

  “’What” nothing!” Hetty not letting up started picking up lights and pretending to untangle them but making them worse while waiting for her friend to finally admit her feelings. “You have liked Joe Thomas since we were ten. Since you realized you liked boys.”

  “Noooo!” Dottie drew out the word too long. “There was never anything there.” She turned away and walked down the hall to the kitchen to end the conversation. Harold was whom she should be concerned about, since they had been dating so long. Joe Thomas would only be in town for a short while and would be gone from her life. Again. Hopefully for good this time, she told herself.

  The museum was inside the old house, and the ballroom was occasionally rented to host parties and events. Dottie had the kitchen redone a few years ago for occasional catering purposes. During the year for meetings and some special events they would offer coffee or cocoa. To get more into the holiday spirit after coming home from the hardware store Dottie set her special cinnamon cocoa to simmer. She needed some now to give her stamina for Hetty’s interrogation.

  “Where are you going?” Hetty hollered after her before finding her in the kitchen. “See, I knew you’d get into the Christmas spirit,” Hetty said as she entered the kitchen and smelled Dottie’s signature drink.

  “Do you want some?” Dottie asked handing Hetty an already full mug of cocoa.

  “No, I want the story of what happened between you and Joe.”

  Both women stood their ground and neither moved for what seemed like moments. The old friends were used to each other’s unrelenting and fought stubborn with stubborn. Finally, Hetty gave in and took the mug.

  “Fine. You didn’t have feelings for him,” she said in a false deep voice and rolled her eyes, making fun of her best friend. “But can you believe he’s back? After all these years? I mean he would call and send emails those first years on the road but—”

  “Wait, what?” Dottie suddenly snapped out of her cocoa malaise. “He wrote to you?”

  “Yeah, didn’t he talk to you? You were better friends with him anyway. I thought it was because you two lived closer, and I was always off doing my pageants.”

  “No. He didn’t call or write emails to me. I got a few postcards from random places that had a general, ‘you’d really like it here’ generic sentiment. But I never heard from him after he left town. Come to think of it I didn’t really hear much from him senior year. I always thought it was because he was focused on baseball. Trying to make himself the best possible player possible.”

  “Well, I…” Hetty stopped mid-sentence stunned. Which didn’t happen often. In fact, it probably had only happened two other times in her life. Once when she won her first crown, and the second when Dottie said yes to dating Harold. Everyone had always known that Joe and Dottie would end up together. Hetty thought that Harold would be just a phase. But a decade later and they’re still a couple.

  The women sipped their cocoa in silence.

  “Not changing the subject, because I’m not letting you off the hook Dorothy Emelia Henry. But why haven’t you and Harold,” Hetty winced at his name, “ever tied the knot?”

  “We have been waiting. First there was college, and then he went to grad school. And he has been trying to land a serious marketing job in a large market. In fact, he has a big interview this week in New York. We’ve been waiting until he was established to settle down.” Dottie had given this speech in different forms over the years. Hetty knew it by heart, however she kept asking. Hoping that her life-long friend would admit that she didn’t really have feelings as deep as she wanted to for Harold.

  Dottie always had big aspirations to travel to distant places. She wanted to go anywhere that wasn’t East Haddam, Connecticut. She didn’t want to move, per se. But she and Joe used to talk about all of the sites they wanted to see. The Eiffel Tower. The leaning tower of Pisa. The Great Wall of China.

  But in college Dottie’s father had a stroke. It was too much for her mother to take care of him and the museum. Dottie felt the pull of her roots more than the lift of her wings. She settled for Harold and East Haddam. True she still had dreams about moving. And now that her father and mother had moved to Florida, and the museum was closing, there was nothing holding her here. Until Joe reentered her life, Hetty hoped.

  Hetty finished her mug of cocoa and rinsed it in the sink.

  “Well, I’d better get back to the diner,” she sighed as she dried her hands on the Christmas towel hanging from the bar on the cabinet below the sink. “If you’re not going to give me any more gossip, I guess I’ll have to go insinuate something for my customers.” Hetty winked. She would never toss Dottie as fodder in the gossip mill of this town, in fact she would go out of her way to stop gossip about Dottie. However, she wanted to know for herself what was going on.

  “Alright. I’ll be by later for dinner,” Dottie said as she followed her friend out.

  “The wreaths look
nice. Both of them together. I’m glad you went for it,” Hetty said dripping with double meaning.

  “I’m sure you are Hetty,” Dottie said almost with a warning.

  “See you later,” Hetty said as she walked down the porch and front walkway to her car.

  Dottie closed the front door after her friend then turned around to look at the house. Decorations were scattered everywhere, over half of them were still in packaging or boxes. Christmas had exploded in the front hallway. Dottie sighed a heavy sigh.

  “Why did you have to come back home?” She wasn’t sure if she was saying it to herself or to Joe.

  Taking a deep breath, Dottie dived back into decorating.

  Chapter Four

  Frank stayed over an hour at Joe’s. They made lists of the projects to tackle. Frank did a quick assessment of each room to let Joe know what he should fix as they went from room to room inspecting everything. When Frank left, he had a burgeoning list of items send over from the hardware store for Joe.

  Almost like an aged photo losing its color, the house was smaller and less bright than Joe remembered. The house was still fully furnished, but had tarps over most of the furniture, and plastic over the lamps to keep off the dust. Joe looked at the long-handwritten list in his hand and sighed as he yanked the cover off of the sofa, scattering dust mites all over the living room. He sat on the sofa and put his feet up on the covered coffee table. In his mind, he heard his mother shout at him to remove his feet from the table and started to lift his feet out of habit. Joe set his feet back down rationalizing that this was no longer his mother’s house, and the table was covered anyway.

  Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize how late it had gotten. He heard the screen door slam and heard, “Where are you,” in a bossy female voice that seemed so much a part of his world, that he smiled when he heard it. It was the voice that launched hundreds of crazy schemes when they were kids and made them play board games on his porch until such late hours they couldn’t see. It was a voice he knew almost as well as his own.

  “Over here, Hetty. On the sofa,” he smiled through his weariness.

  “Well, well, well… if it isn’t The Park Place Wielding, Home Run Hitting, Joe the Go Thomas. Thanks for coming by to say hello,” her voice was full of sarcasm.

  “Hetty,” he said as he stood up and tossed the list on the table. “Good to see you,” he said as he embraced her. “I’m so glad your skinny butt finally ate something,” he spoke into her hair before releasing her. “It was painful to watch you only eating celery in high school.”

  “Tell me about it. I love an evening gown, but I love pizza more.”

  They both laughed.

  “What are you doing here, Hetty?”

  “First night in town and its past eight o’clock. Figured the big city boy was used to delivery.”

  He looked at her confused.

  “Diner was closing, and I figured you probably didn’t have anything in the fridge. I brought you some food.”

  “Hetty, you’re the best.” He said noticing the bags she had dropped at her feet to hug him.

  “I know. Now, is your fridge working? Because I brought a few things,” she motioned to the bags at her feet.

  “As a matter of fact, I just plugged it in. It’s probably it’s not quite cool yet, but it should be on its way,” he said starting to walk to the kitchen.

  Hetty, looked at him from the back. His muscles showed through his shirt and his pants. Joe’s job as a catcher required him to squat all the time. This had made him seriously muscular. His jeans and tee shirt seemed to fit him perfectly. Hetty thought to herself that if Dottie wasn’t so in love with him, and if her own husband were out of the picture, she would jump at the chance to take Joseph Thomas off of the market.

  “It’s getting there,” he said with his head in the fridge, as she rounded the corner. He closed the door and noticed that the weight of the bags was quite a bit. Hetty was managing, but she had brought enough food for a party. Joe jumped and took both bags away from her. They seemed to be as light as feather pillows to him instead of six different meals with a couple of side salads, side vegetables, and a two liter of diet soda that Joe was a spokesperson for.

  They both started unpacking the bags. Joe stopped holding a tin.

  “You brought me lasagna?”

  “Yes?” Hetty said as a question, even though she knew she brought lasagna, Joe’s favorite growing up.

  “I don’t eat carbs in the off season—,” he stopped when he looked at her, and saw that Hetty’s smile started to fall. “But I can’t believe you remembered my favorite.”

  “Duh,” she said. “It was the thing you couldn’t eat enough of when we were kids. Do you remember when you—”

  “Ate the whole tray of lasagna,” they both finished together.

  “Hey, I don’t back down from a bet. Or free lasagna,” he said as they smiled at each other in reminiscence.

  “Oh, that Dottie. She always did think of the craziest things for you to prove yourself,” Hetty said as she finished unpacking and putting things in the fridge.

  “Prove myself?” Joe asked as he started to get a plate from the cupboard.

  “Yeah, she was always trying to cajole you to be bigger and better than everyone else.” She folded up the bags and set a pile of paper plates and cups on the counter. “Fine china, just in case you didn’t want to use your mom’s old stuff,” Hetty winked.

  Not to be deterred, Joe asked, “What do you mean she wanted me to be bigger and better? How much bigger could I get than a pro baseball star? I could never be good enough for her,” Joe slammed the lasagna into the microwave and punched at the buttons, taking his frustration out on the machine.

  “Well, that’s the funny thing with us women, we see potential and we just keep squeezing to get out every last drop,” Hetty twisted her words.

  Joe with his back to Hetty braced his hands on the counter making his back tense and his shoulders raise to his ears. Through gritted teeth he quietly said, “But I was never good enough for her.”

  “Oh Joe,” Hetty said starting forward to put a hand on his shoulder, “You don’t understand—”

  “What?”

  Hetty jumped back.

  “What don’t I understand, Hetty?” He lashed out. There was a painful question underneath this aggression. The one about Dottie. She waited for him to ask it, but he didn’t.

  “Hey,” she said standing up to him. At her full height she was just two inches shorter than him. “It’s water under the bridge. And I hear from Frankincense that you’re not staying long anyway. So, what does it matter?” Hetty tested Joe. She wanted him to confess.

  Joe stepped back and shirked. “You’re right. Hetty, I’m sorry. Old wounds, ya know?”

  The microwave beeped.

  “Well, if you can’t throw a tantrum at one of your best friends that you haven’t seen in almost twenty years, who can you, eh?”

  Joe rubbed his neck.

  “Oh, come here, you idiot,” Hetty said as she held out her arms. Joe stepped in to her embrace and they hugged again for a good, long hug. “Now,” she said as she pushed him away, “before I get the solid idea to leave my husband and convince you to run away with me, I’d better get home.”

  “Thanks, Hetty.”

  “You’re welcome, and if you need any more, stop by the diner any time,” she said walking toward the front door. She opened it and turned back, “Well, anytime we’re open. This isn’t the big city, and we don’t do delivery.” She shook her finger at him then turned to leave.

  “I wasn’t only thanking you for the food.”

  Turning back to make eye contact with him, Hetty said, “I know, kiddo. Good to have you home. No matter how long you’re actually planning to stay,” she tossed over her shoulder as the screen door slammed.

  He walked to the door and waved as she drove off. The microwave beeped again, reminding him of the food he was warming. He smiled and walked back to t
he kitchen and heaved a big sigh. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.

  Chapter Five

  Recalling his post season checkup, Joe tried to focus on why he had come back to this town. His main focus was to fix up and sell his parents’ place. But there was also another reason. Joe had to get his head right. At least that was what his coach said at his end of season checkup.

  “Your knees give out before anything else will, and they’re in good shape for a guy your age,” his trainer said at the end of the season.

  “Yeah, but your head isn’t right these days, Thomas,” said Coach said using Joe’s last name. It’s like Coach could see inside his head, Joe thought. “I’m not a meddling man,” continued Coach as he smacked his gum, “but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve got some sort of unfinished business that is bouncing around in that brain of yours. Its making all of your other processes slow down.” Coach put his hands on his waist that seemed to be hidden by his stomach and shook his head. He started out the door, and turned back to Joe, “You’ve gotta get your head right if you wanna come back next year. If you walk into my spring training and you’re still like this,” he looked Joe right in the eye with his steely grays, “I don’t care what your contract says, you’re gonna be benched for the season.” He snapped his gum to emphasize the point.

  It was now ten weeks before catchers and pitchers reported. If he even wanted to go back. There was so much to think about. Joe wasn’t quite sure what he wanted anymore. This whole thing with Heather and the press hunting them both down about their upcoming wedding and his role in losing his last game. His head was a mess.