Single in Suburbia

by Wendy Wax

  “Because your son is pitching and nobody, especially Susie Simmons, sends the three musketeers into hiding.”

  “Right.” The idea of seeing all those people and them seeing her made Amanda’s stomach churn.

  “You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” Candace reminded her.

  “I know. I keep telling myself that. But somebody needs to convince my children,” Amanda groaned. She and Meghan had been in a state of armed truce since her parents had driven off in their motor home.

  “I would, but they need to hear it from you,” Candace said.

  Brooke checked her watch for about the twentieth time. She was lugging a carryall with something bulky inside.

  “You two look like you’ve got something up your sleeves,” Amanda observed.

  Brooke smiled. “Let’s just say if everything goes well, Candace and I won’t need a ride home.”

  When they arrived at the field, the game was already underway. Trailing behind Candace and Brooke, Amanda felt like a condemned prisoner being led to the gas chamber.

  Everyone stared and their gazes on her were like a physical thing, heavy and pervasive. Refusing to look away or down at her feet, Amanda raised her chin and looked each one of them in the eye. A few of them turned away or dropped their gazes. Susie Simmons glared at her then leaned over to whisper something to Karen Anderson. There was laughter.

  She wanted to get in Susie’s face and remind her that she, too, had been arrested. She imagined standing up and expounding on all the embarrassing and petty things she’d learned about the people who thought they were superior to her. She glared back at Susie Simmons and realized with a sudden flash of clarity that that was probably what they feared most.

  Meghan sat beside her father, her gaze on her fingernails. Amanda willed her to look up and meet her gaze, but she kept her head down and hid behind a curtain of long dark hair. Rob waved hello, a small friendly gesture that made her breathe a tiny sigh of relief.

  Candace and Brooke slowed slightly as they passed the Mudhens’ dugout, and if Amanda wasn’t mistaken, the two were clearly, and pointedly, strutting their stuff. Dan and Hap watched them go by.

  Amanda raised a hand in greeting to Wyatt. He didn’t turn away, but he didn’t come over to the fence to speak to her either. He watched her move toward the stands, his eyes overlarge in his face, then turned his attention back to the field.

  Amanda told herself it didn’t matter. Somehow she’d find the right words to make her children understand. They were hurt and angry. But, she realized, so was she. In her effort to protect them, she’d forgotten to protect herself.

  When they reached the stands Amanda turned her attention to the game, which seemed to be going slightly better than her life. The score was tied, but when his teammates took the field, Wyatt warmed the bench. He sat much like she did, with his shoulders straight and his chin tilted at a stubborn angle. But she doubted he was as focused on the game as he pretended. Or that he and Meghan were any more immune to the stares and whispers than she was.

  “Hey, Broom Lady!” The shout came from the back of the stands. “I dropped my burger. Do you want to come clean it up? Or maybe your daughter would like to do it!”

  Amanda’s head snapped up and she swiveled in her seat. Behind her, Meghan, at whom the taunt had also been aimed, sat frozen in her seat while Rob glared at a teenage boy Amanda didn’t recognize. She wanted to go up there and smack the boy silly. Or grab him by the ear and drag him from the bleachers and out of the ballpark.

  “Jerk.” Candace put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Yeah, but look at that,” Brooke said.

  As they watched, Rob got up and walked over to the boy. He leaned down and said something. A moment later, the boy got up and skulked off. Rob went back to his seat and put an arm around Meghan. After a few moments, talk resumed.

  Two innings later, Amanda was still trying to calm down. Her thoughts flitted from problem to problem, as her brain worried at them seeking solutions; how to straighten things out with the kids, how she might get Maid for You back on track now that Susie’s accusations had derailed it, her surprising decision not to take Rob back. Where in the world Hunter James had disappeared to.

  A collective groan drew Amanda’s attention back to the action on the field. The Mudhens were now up by two runs but the other team had the bases loaded.

  “Riley walked the last two,” Candace said, pointing toward the Mudhens’ pitcher. “And that’s their number five hitter coming up.”

  “We’ve got two outs on them. We need to get out of this inning. Now.” Brooke, too, had become a real fount of baseball knowledge.

  “Definitely time for a pitching change,” Brooke observed, swiveling in her seat. “Do you think he’ll warm up Wyatt?”

  Amanda searched the dugout for Wy.

  “He’s over there,” Candace said, pointing to the sidelines where Wyatt was, in fact, already throwing to Drew.

  Dan called time then walked out to the mound. He slung his arm around Riley Calhoun and clapped him on the back. The boy handed Dan the ball and headed off the field.

  Wyatt began a slow, agonizing jog to the pitcher’s mound. Drew Donovan came in to catch for him.

  There were whispers. Someone laughed. She felt movement on the bleacher beside her, and Rob, with Meghan in tow, sat down in the vacant space beside her. Meghan still didn’t speak, but Rob’s presence signaled his support. And gave her hope that even divorced, they could still be a family unit.

  Amanda’s gaze returned to their son. When he turned to face the plate, the fear in his eyes was evident, and she knew what he was thinking. Maybe his improved pitching was a fluke. Maybe he couldn’t do it again. Maybe this guy was going to hit a grand slam and bring in four more runs.

  Drew Donovan squatted behind the plate. The batter stepped out of the box so that Wyatt could take his warm-up pitches from the mound. One skidded past Drew in the dirt. Another flew over his head.

  Amanda closed her eyes and offered up a small prayer. When she opened them, she saw Rob doing the same.

  “He’s going to be fine, Amanda,” Rob said. “All he needs to do is put his head in the right place.”

  She hoped with all her heart that Rob was right. She willed Wyatt to tune out the chanting for “one more out” that rose from the stands.

  The pressure was palpable. As she often did, she wished she could go out and pull him from the mound and rescue him from the possibility of failure.

  But there was no place in baseball for self-doubt. As in life, it was Kilimanjaro and Everest combined. It could fell the most ardent climber.

  It was so much easier to avoid potential failure and embarrassment, much easier to take a flatter, more circuitous path. But sometimes, Amanda realized as she watched her son, you had no choice. Sometimes the mountain sat right in front of you and you had to scale it. Even if you did little more than cling to the rock face and inch your way up, you had to commit to the climb.

  Just as she had when she created Solange and began cleaning houses. And as she had the other night when she’d turned down Rob’s offer.

  Wyatt finished his practice pitches and waited for the hitter to step into the batter’s box. Drawing a deep breath, he angled his body and brought his arms down into the set position.

  She held her breath as he stepped back and began his motion. She was still holding it when he threw his first pitch.

  The batter swung and missed.

  “Yes!” Brooke and Candace shouted in unison.

  “That a boy!” Rob called out beside her.

  Amanda exhaled. Four words repeated themselves over and over in her mind. You can do it! You can do it! Every fiber of her being was focused on sending this mental message to her child.

  His next ball was his reworked changeup; the one Hunter had helped him develop. The batter missed that too.

  “Oh, yeah,” Amanda whispered. “That was sweet.”

  Amanda folded her hands in he
r lap and tried to still her racing heart.

  The stands were quiet now as everyone watched Wyatt. He shook off the first two signals that Drew sent him then slowly nodded at the third. He was completely focused on the batter; totally committed to scaling the mountain at hand.

  “He’s going to use his slider,” Rob said. “And he’s going to sit him down with it. Our boy’s a fighter.”

  “Yes he is,” she breathed.

  “Just like his mother,” Rob said.

  She took her gaze off Wyatt for just a moment to consider the man whose desertion had forced her to learn how to stand on her own two feet. If they were lucky, they could forge some kind of friendship that would make things easier on the kids.

  Some good things had come out of the turmoil she thought now as she watched Wyatt stare down the batter. Candace and Brooke topped her list; having them covering her back had gotten her through the toughest times. Hunter James, if in fact he ever resurfaced, could be a positive. It was too bad he wasn’t here today to see what his coaching had done for Wyatt.

  So everyone knew that she’d been forced to clean houses. So what? So her children had been embarrassed and ridiculed. That hurt the most, but it was something they’d have to live with. So Susie had accused her of stealing and was trying to ruin her reputation. Was she just going to sit back and let that happen?

  No, she was not. She wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. And neither was her son.

  For his third pitch, Wyatt did, as Rob had predicted, go with another off-speed pitch. His delivery was smooth and flawless. Everyone—including the batter—watched in amazement as the ball whizzed toward the inside corner, seemed to dance in midair, and then somehow swooped across the far edge of the plate.

  “He’s out of there!” the ump yelled.

  With whoops of joy, the Mudhens surrounded Wyatt. They pounded him on the back then dragged him off the field and into the dugout. The crowd jumped to its feet.

  “Oh my God,” Amanda breathed, “did you see that?”

  “He sure as Hell pulled it out of there,” Rob said, already heading toward the dugout to congratulate Wyatt.

  Brooke and Candace nodded happily. The three of them wrapped their arms around each other and just kind of swayed together.

  “Somebody stop me,” Candace said. “I’m feeling an irresistible urge to start the wave.”

  “And I,” Amanda said with a smile, “am feeling an irresistible urge to clear Solange’s name.”

  “Count us in,” Candace said. “But after the game Brooke and I have our own preemptive missions to take care of. Let’s rendezvous at my house tomorrow morning at oh eight hundred hours.”

  Amanda left the ballpark with Meghan and Wyatt. Candace squared her shoulders and headed down toward the dugout where Dan was gathering up the team gear.

  Brooke kept her gaze on Hap and Tyler. Afraid they might pass her by, she moved to intersect them as they left the dugout and planted herself in a spot where they couldn’t miss her.

  An uncomfortable look passed over Hap’s face as they drew near. Taking a tight rein on her nerves, she turned a bright smile on her stepson who at the moment seemed the most approachable.

  “Great game, Tyler,” she said as they drew to a stop in front of her. “That was a fantastic catch in the third inning.”

  “Thanks.” The word was mumbled, but he did say it and looked her in the eye at the same time. For Tyler Mackenzie, what came next was the equivalent of the Gettysburg Address. “I saw the picture of you in the paper,” he said, nodding his head. “That mole was ugly. I didn’t think somebody as pretty as you could look that bad.”

  Brooke blinked. “Um, thanks,” she said. “I think.”

  Hap stood behind his son watching her. It was a fine irony that after a year of unrelenting hostility it was Tyler who was waxing eloquent. Her hairy mole seemed to have made a major impression.

  “I mean I’ve never seen anything as gross as that,” Ty continued enthusiastically. “It was humongous. It needed its own zip code. It—”

  “Thank you, Tyler,” she said. “I think you’ve made your point.”

  Still Hap watched her.

  Brooke turned to face her husband. Please God, she thought, don’t let him reject me. Not here. Not now. Oh, who was she kidding? There would be no time or place that would make such a thing OK. She pushed the negative thoughts from her mind and drew herself up to her full height. It was do or die time.

  “My ride seems to have left,” she said to Hap. “And I, uh, have some other pictures I thought you two might like to see.” She pulled the photo album out of her carryall and handed it to Hap like the present it was meant to be.

  She smiled, trembling lips and all. “If you thought Simone was ugly, just wait until you get a load of the place I grew up in.”

  “Cool.” Tyler turned to his father. “I’m starving. Can we stop at Steak n Shake and get something to eat? Maybe Brooke could show us her pictures there.”

  Hap looked down at the album he held in his hand and then back up at Brooke. “Sure,” he said, reaching in his pocket and tossing Tyler the car keys. “Go stow your gear. I want to talk to Brooke for a minute. We’ll be right behind you.”

  They watched him leave. Afraid of what Hap might be planning to say, Brooke rushed to speak first. Her words practically fell over themselves in her need to get them out.

  “Hap,” she said. “I never meant to trick you. Or lie to you.”

  She looked over his shoulder to the playing fields that stretched out behind him. Clean and beautifully manicured, they were a far cry from the hardscrabble playgrounds she’d known as a child. “But the truth is you were right. I didn’t trust you.” Nibbling on her lip, she forced herself to go on. “I didn’t think anyone would be able to see beyond where I’d come from if they knew. And I was so afraid of losing you.”

  “Aw, Brooke.” Shaking his head, he opened his arms and pulled her into them. He was big and solid and she could feel the album against her back as he held her. She thought about the pages of pictures that lay between them; what she’d always thought of as her ancient history—a separate time and place that could be sealed away and forgotten.

  “I just wanted you to know who I became—without anything clouding it, you know?” she said, raising her gaze to meet his. “I want you to love the me I am now. I’ve spent my whole life becoming her.”

  Hap’s smile lit his face and she loved seeing herself reflected in his eyes. “I understand,” he said. “But we all carry pieces of where we came from with us, Brooke. And while I don’t intend to hold your past against you, I’m glad you’ve decided to share it.”

  Relief coursed through her as he pulled her closer. They walked arm in arm toward the car where Tyler waited. Brooke drew in a deep breath of happiness and smiled up at her husband. “You know what’s really strange?” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “That after all these years of running from my past, I seem to be following in my mother’s footsteps.”

  “As a parent I expect she might like to hear about that.” Hap gestured toward Tyler who had turned on the radio and was bopping in the backseat to a Nelly tune. The car lurched up and down to the beat.

  “Speaking of your child,” Brooke said, a teasing tone in her voice, “I can hardly believe what a great equalizer that hairy mole of Simone’s turned out to be.”

  He smiled down at her as they neared the car and she could tell he was going to kiss her.

  “Yeah,” he said as his lips swooped down on hers. “You can never underestimate the gross-out factor where a thirteen-year-old boy is concerned.”

  Candace lowered herself onto the dugout bench and watched Dan shove equipment into a bag. Drew had apparently ridden home with someone else, which should have made things easier, except that the normally affable Dan didn’t look like he was planning to help her through this.

  “That was a great game today,” she said as a conversation opener. “The
team looks like it’s starting to come around.”

  “Yep.” He continued stowing the gear, making a big deal out of fitting the lid down on the bucket of practice baseballs, picking up the stray trash.

  “Wyatt’s pitching was first-rate,” she said, looking for some sign that he was glad to see her. “It was a nail-biter but he really came through.”

  “Yes he did.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and stared up at his cleanly chiseled face, irritated. “So what is it you want me to do now, Dan?” she asked. “Grovel? Throw myself on your mercy? Would you like to give me a little baseball quiz to see if I’m worthy?” She was starting to heat up now, the anger grabbing hold of her with a speed and intensity she wasn’t prepared for. Her feelings were so close to the surface all the time now, she could hardly keep up with herself.

  “You told me to come when I was ready. And here I am.” She stopped talking when she heard the strident tone of her own voice. In a minute she’d be shouting. Shaking her head in disgust, she tried to calm down.

  “I’m sorry,” Candace said. “I seem to be so out of control lately. One minute I’m shrieking, the next I’m crying.” She snorted in disbelief. “And I can’t seem to hold on to a train of thought. It’s like someone sucked out some of my brain cells when I wasn’t looking.”

  Dan moved closer, a strange look on his face. “How’s Hurricane Hannah?” he asked tentatively.

  “I’m not sure,” Candace replied. “I haven’t heard from her since I threw her out of my house.”

  “You threw your mother out of your house?”

  “Well, I didn’t pick her up and toss her out bodily, though I’ll admit I was tempted.” The anger gone, Candace smiled at the memory. She’d felt like a prizefighter winning a first KO when she’d escorted her mother to the door. “But I did inform her that I was going to be making my own decisions from now on.”

  He was still contemplating her as if she were a series of numbers that didn’t add up.

  “And one of those decisions is you.” Suddenly shy, Candace looked away, afraid that he might have somehow changed his mind while she was figuring out hers.