Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 1: 6 Romantic sporting novellas

by Janice Thompson

  “Tea for me,” Rose called out. “I’m not into coffee yet.”

  Later over scones he’d picked up at the local bakery, they talked about the next time they’d see each other.

  “This job will take my whole week, but I’ll be back for the Saturday games.”

  “Good. See you then.”

  He wanted to say, stop, so he could hug her, but it was too soon for that. He never had moved fast, anyway.

  ~

  Rose said goodbye at the end of the sidewalk and leaned over to kiss Baxter’s cheek. “You are a very nice person. Just so you know.”

  She left him standing there, waving.

  Am I ready for a relationship? she asked herself on the way home. She had never been serious about anyone. School and grades meant a lot to her. And then softball. There wasn’t time for dating. Somehow she could see this changing. Just maybe it was a good thing.

  The next day when Rose went to the ball field, she saw Coach, who had directed her team.

  “Hey, how’s it going, Rose? See your head looks better.”

  “I’m fine, Coach. Really.”

  “I know you’re doing a good job at coaching. So glad I asked you.”

  Rose smiled. “Me, too, Coach.”

  Wednesday was a practice day. They would meet at the field right after school. Rose had considered several things to talk about. She hoped to be encouraging She would let them practice their usual way and then she’d insert her thoughts about each girl, what she did well, what she needed practice in and how she hoped to help to make it a top team heading for the trophy win. It could be done. She had never been more sure of anything.

  Her eyes caught the sign on the fence - people in the bleachers could see it. She would make sure this was obeyed.

  Welcome

  Tobacco Free

  Drug Free

  Weapons Free.

  Another sign said: no pets for the safety and health of the children.

  There was often a girl who might have allergies from a dog. It was just better if the bystanders left pets home.

  Rose was ready for the practice time. She’d chant. It seemed to be what she did best.

  “Okay, okay, let’s go.”

  Three rules in my book: Be ready to play your position to your best ability. We are a team. We demand teamwork. Be alert at all times. “Ready, ready, go!”

  C’mon, run out on that field as if you own it.

  Let’s go, let’s go!

  The best hitters would play first. Marly stepped out, swinging her bat as the came to the plate.

  “Look the pitch over. Don’t stand there waiting. Reach out to hit the ball.”

  Marly let the first two balls slam past her. One was too high, the other too low.

  “Good eye, good eye. Only takes one.”

  Rose paced back and forth, her eye taking in everyone, even those out in left and center field.

  “Let’s go Black Cats. It’s your time to swing, to shine. To catch the ball to put someone out.

  Rose talked constantly as she paced. She knew if she said too much, they might tune her out, but she had to say what was needed and necessary. She hadn’t played all those years for nothing.

  Marly swung at the third pitch and the ball went high into center field.

  “You got it. Run, run.”

  Her chances of being put out were 90%, but on occasion one might throw a wild ball and it wouldn’t come close to the first baseman, or she could drop it. That happened far more than one might expect.

  She made it barely and only because the first baseman stepped off the bag.

  “You got it!”

  All the girls clapped and hollered. Nobody was sitting in the dugout; all were on their feet, chanting.

  “You gotta let the batter know you care. It’s that simple.”

  After the practice, Rose sat in the dugout, wishing her mother were here. Sometimes she ached to talk to her. They’d always discussed things. She loved her father, too, but there was nothing like a mother/daughter relationship .No matter what, her mother always coaxed her to do her best.

  “Do the best you can, Rosie. Ask God for help. I know you don’t want to, but sometimes that’s the only way.”

  She remembered retreating to her room after her mother died. She had cleaned everything. Even the closet. She painted the walls a pale yellow. She needed sunshine in her soul.

  On Saturday after practice, Rose decided to drive to the cemetery. She hadn’t visited the family plot in a long time. She found some wild daisies in the yard and picked a small bouquet.

  Rose recalled going with her father to look at granite headstones. “We must find a special one for your mother.”

  “Do they say something beside the name?” Rose asked.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve seen some with scripture, some with just one sentence. I was thinking about: you were loved and you are missed. That’s just an idea.”

  “Daddy do we have to decide today?”

  “Oh, no. Lots of people don’t have the money to spend, so there is a simple flat stone on the ground.”

  “That would never do,” Rose said. “We’ll think of the perfect one.”

  That night while she lay in bed, listening to the rain on the roof, Rose thought of how much her mother loved God. She often talked about Him losing His son, Jesus.

  Rose thought of the first songs she sang in Sunday school and loved to this day.

  Jesus loves me, this I know

  for the Bible tells me so.

  Rose also thought of the well-worn Bible her mother had given her the week before she died. “Rose, this was given to me by my mother when I was ten. I’ve treasured it all these years and now I want it to be yours.”

  The Bible sat on the table with other precious belongings. Her first doll, a Raggedy Ann with orange hair. It was Raggedy all right. But a treasure. And the first book she’d read: the classic Heidi.

  The Lord giveth , the Lord taketh away.

  It was simple, but to the point. Rose’s fingers ran over the etched words. Then at her mother’s name. If she could she would have added a softball. Maybe she could bring one to sit by the bouquet of flowers. She’d do that the next time she came.

  When Rose returned home, it was fifteen minutes past dinnertime.

  “Where were you?” her stepmother asked. Her forehead was creased into a frown. “We decided not to wait.”

  “And that’s fine,” Rose said. She turned to her father. “I went to the cemetery to pay respects.”

  Her father looked a bit taken back, but then nodded. “I’m sure that was a good thing for you to do.”

  Dorothy made the “humph!” sound she did often. At least she didn’t say anything else.

  Rose didn’t feel like eating, but had a helping of tamale pie. Not her favorite, but it was better than some things Dorothy made. Her scrambled eggs were horrid. All dry and hard. Not like her mother’s. Rose usually just had cold cereal for breakfast; it was a lot easier and better.

  The coaching went well, and then one day Rose overheard one girl complaining about Rose.

  She didn’t want to listen, but she was talking loudly. Stephanie. She didn’t have to see to know who it was.

  “She has her favorites,” Stephanie said. “Look how she is with Lolly. Such a loser, but Rose acts like she’s a goddess.”

  Rose stood fixed to the spot. Did she really come across like that? She hadn’t meant to. What could she do about that now? Ignore the comment or face her and say something. But, what? Should she apologize? No, that wouldn’t be right. Sure she encouraged Lolly. She needed it. And she was improving.

  Rose held her breath for a minute and prayed to do the right thing. She walked to the end of the dugout and stood in front of Stephanie. “I didn’t mean to hear your conversation, Steph, but I did. I’m sorry you feel that way”

  Steph’s shock showed. “I am sorry, too, but that’s how I see it. You have your favorites.”

  Rose stood her groun
d. “I try to help out people who I feel need a boost of confidence. Now, you,” she hesitated, “You don’t need my special attention, if you want to call it that. You are doing such a tremendous job in center field. Haven’t seen you drop a ball yet.”

  Steph’s face lit up. “I - didn’t think you noticed.”

  Rose smiled. “I could tell you what each one has done. It’s just part of the job.” She put her arm on Steph’s shoulder. “Keep up the good work!”

  Rose walked away before saying too much. She hoped she’d done and said the right thing.

  In the last inning, Steph hit a homerun.” She looked at Rose, thumbs up as she came around third base to home plate.

  “Way to go Stephanie!” Rose yelled.. “You just won us the game.”

  They’d been tied since second inning.

  Everyone was clapped in the stands. One mother blew a small horn, like the one used to welcome in the New Year

  Rose wished Baxter had been here. It was the kind of action he liked. He was out of town again. She wished she didn’t miss him so much. Once Lenny had come over and watched a few innings. Rose felt honored.

  By the time she got home, her father was there. He often worked half days on Saturday.

  “By that big grin on your face, I know it’s good news!”

  “We won by one point: 6-5.”

  “I’m definitely going to the next one.” He looked at Dorothy. “Maybe you’d like to come just once,” he suggested.

  She smiled, something she rarely did. “I’ll think about it. Oh and congratulations, Rose. I can imagine you’re a great coach.”

  Rose thought about those words long after she went to bed. Coming from Dorothy, it was a real compliment. She’d never feel about her, as she did her mother, but it was a big step in the right direction. She was going to talk to Dorothy in the morning. She wanted them to get along. Maybe it had been up to her all along. She hadn’t been nice from the beginning. It had been such a shock, but that wasn’t Dorothy’s fault. Rose closed her eyes and thanked God for the insight.

  Baxter had never seen a week go so slowly. He couldn’t wait to get home. Rose’s face loomed in front of him as he worked. At night while he lay sleepless in bed and at the dinner table in the little cafe where he ate, he thought of what it would be like having her sitting across from him, the smile taking over her face. The smile that was hers, but spoke to those while she talked.

  He had to let her know somehow. What if she didn’t reciprocate? Maybe it was just a general friendship to her. He had no way of knowing. But he would find out. He had to find out.

  He packed his duffel bag and tossed the pants and shirts on the hanger in the back of his van. It would take at least six hours to cross the Idaho Oregon border and drive across the state. It was 370 miles; freeway all the way. Leaving early meant he would be back in time for a softball game. They played from noon until dark.

  “ Rosie, here I come. You better be ready for me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Baxter called Rose at nine. “Sorry I didn’t make it in time. How did it go?”

  “We won by one point.” And then she told him about Stephanie and what she’d said.

  “You’re an excellent coach. I could tell from that first time you led the team.”

  Why, thank you, Baxter. How kind of you.”

  “I’ll see you before the next game. We need to go out, maybe to a movie.”

  After she hung up, Rose shook her head. She could see Baxter’s smile, the way his eyes lit up when he talked to her. She had no idea where this was going, but she was along for the ride. It was sort of like with the team. She didn’t know if they’d win the championship, but the ride was well worth it. She’d do it again, if asked.

  Then she got the word that Aunt Bee had recently moved back to Portland. She’d lived at the beach for 18 years, but she said the family needed her

  “Aunt Bee!” Rose yelled when she saw her aunt walk across the field toward the bleachers. “I’m glad you came.”

  “You better believe it.”

  Beatrice bought water from the concession stand and found a place on the top row.” I’m ready to start cheering,” she called out.

  The members of the Black Cats turned and nodded. It was a known fact that the more people who came and cheered, the better the game went.

  Beatrice planned to take Rose out for dinner afterwards, if she could get away with it. She knew how her stepmother was, wanting her there for the evening meal. Beatrice could have gone, too, but it bothered her too much. To be in her sister’s house, to see the changes and to try to smile as if everything was okay. She didn’t blame her brother-in-law for remarrying. Men got lonely. They needed someone. As for Beatrice, she’d been a widow over ten years and got along quite well.

  Beatrice knew Rose was now a coach and that impressed her a lot.

  “C’mon, you Black Birds, let’s get some hits!”

  “Black Cats,” a voice said, looking at her.

  Beatrice turned and smiled. “Well, I knew it was something black.”

  Baxter moved over. “I’m Baxter and you’re Aunt Bee.” He held out his hand. She took it and nodded. “I take it you’re a good friend of Rose’s?”

  “You could say that.” Baxter tried not to smile. “Just got back from a trip and had to come to the game.”

  “I’m happy to meet you!”

  Rose hadn’t realized how much she would miss Baxter. She saw him most every day since that first time they met in the stands. He was special. Something about the way his eyes met hers in that serious, yet curious way. She loved his deep brown eyes and thought of how a baby would look with those eyes. She slammed that thought from her mind. What was wrong with her? How could she have thought of such a thing?

  She wished her mother were alive so she could talk to her about her feelings. If she had a sister, that might have worked, but she didn’t and her mother used to say, “if wishes were horses beggars would ride.”

  The tears came to her eyes, but only momentarily. She’d learned early on you just didn’t get everything in this life. There were heartaches and deaths and promises were broken. One just had to move on.

  She knew Baxter would come to the ball field the minute he pulled into town. It was a part of him, just as it was her. That was the special part. Soon they’d be laughing and she’d tell him about the first game she coached and how her team had won. Such an honor. To win your first game. She’d never forget it.

  She grabbed her bag and the lunch she’d made that morning. It was a lot cheaper and quicker to just have a sandwich and an apple. While eating she’d be talking to the first team member who came.

  Rose drove her mother’s car the two miles to the field. She was used to having the car now and thankful that her father hadn’t given it to Dorothy. He could have and would have if Dorothy had insisted, but she wouldn’t want a Camry. She had to have something more showy and now was driving a used Mercedes. One could hardly afford one brand new.

  The sun beat out of a cloudless blue sky. The first playoff game couldn’t be happening on a nicer day.

  Rose discarded her sweatshirt and ran up to the top of the grandstands and back down. What she wouldn’t give to see it full of people. Six rows with 20 per row meant 120 people. With a team of 12, that meant each had to have 10 people come. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. There were lots of people who came who loved the game and often filled the bleachers, well at least half the way.

  The Blue Hornets versus the Black Cats. How did that happen? The Hornets couldn’t possibly win.

  She checked the bags at each base; everything was perfect. And the ground was swept clean and clear.

  “Coach!” a voice sounded from a far corner.

  Lolly, of course. She wished she had just a bit more confidence. She caught fly balls quickly and got them to the base in time, but when it came to hitting, she was anything but confident.

  “Hi, Lolly. You want to practice hitting while we wait
for the others?”

  Lolly shrugged. “Probably won’t do any good.”

  “Stop right there. You can’t be thinking that. You have to take a deep breath and say, “I’m going to hit that ball into left field.” And believe it. With all your heart.”

  Lolly slipped her arm around Rose’s for just a second. “I know, Coach. I do know that, but knowing and doing are two different things.”

  “Let’s just practice for five minutes.”

  Lolly swung the first time too soon. The next time too late.

  “Okay. This is it. Change your stance a bit, put your bat higher.” Rose walked over and held the bat up. “Keep it there. If you look confident, it scares the pitcher and she might throw a ball you can hit.”

  “Oh, I do hope so.”

  Rose had wondered about Lolly. Did she really want to play softball? She’d just ask. There was nothing wrong in asking.

  “I never wanted to play, Coach. My Dad insisted. Said I needed to go out for one sport. I chose softball.”

  “Let’s change things. You need to feel differently about it. If you want to play, you will do better, I promise.”

  Two more of the team arrived and soon there was enough to practice a few throws and hits. Rose was so glad she got this job. It made her feel important. Now if Baxter were just here …

  Baxter didn’t arrive until the fifth inning. Rose walked over and hit him playfully on the arm. “Just couldn’t make it earlier?”

  “Hey, I had a long ways to drive. Left Boise at five.”

  “I know. We’re winning just to catch you up. She sure wished they had a scoreboard. She’d thought about having a fund drive to get one, but the maintenance was expensive. They’d just have to rely on their faithful scorekeeper.

  “I’ll be in my usual place,” he said, moving past and on up to the top level.

  “And give us your loudest voice.”

  “Can do.”

  After the five-minute break, the team ran out to the field. They had the last up. Rose preferred that. Anything could happen.

  ~

  The Black Cats won the game by two points. Rose and Baxter had gone to their favorite ice cream store for a malt. She’d had a hot dog from the stand earlier, but needed something sweet. The girls often brought little snacks to munch on and that was fine with her.