Rachel nearly broke a tooth. “You do always look so adorable,” she said, her eyes doing a slow, disdainful walk up and down Thea’s outfit. “But this is a new look for you, isn’t it? I guess comfort really does trump style some days, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely. Just like class trumps beauty.”
Jake winced. “Where are Gavin and Del?”
Thea gestured toward the back door. “Out back frying a turkey.”
“That’s not good.” Jake took off.
Rachel clasped her hands in front of her body and pasted a smile on her face. Thea nearly laughed because it was a purposefully fake smile. The kind where you want someone to know it’s fake, not because you want them to feel better but because you want them to feel worse. For God’s sake, Rachel was pretending to pretend.
It had always been like this with Rachel. Always. Beneath her friendly facade was an ugly underbelly of competitive wifedom that revealed itself the very first time Thea met the other wives and girlfriends. She’d innocently asked a group of WAGs what they all did for a living, and it was like someone had scratched a needle across a record.
“This,” Rachel had said.
As if that explained it all.
Over time, it did.
For many of the wives and girlfriends, being a baseball wife was their profession. For some, that was simply because balancing the demands of their husbands’ careers with the demands of raising children was more than a full-time job.
But for others, this was their identity. As if they’d been groomed for it like the debutantes of old. They flaunted their relationships with their rich, handsome men as if it were the natural order of things that all the beautiful people were destined for each other.
And then there was Thea. The outsider who barely understood the rules of the game, who had married a baseball player because she got pregnant, who’d joined their exclusive club without having to put in any of the work that the rest of them did. She didn’t have to slug it out for years when he was a prospect or during the long, impoverished minor league years.
And Rachel hated her for it.
Thea used to pretend she didn’t care, but in reality, she did. Being an outsider was a lonely place to be.
But soon she’d be free of their animosity, and it was that thought that allowed her to focus on helping Nessa without straining to hear what was being said behind her back.
Finally, the food was ready. Nessa yelled out back for the boys to bring in the fried turkey, and Thea offered to help set everything out.
After Thea and Gavin fixed the girls’ plates and got them settled at the kids’ table, they joined the rest of the grown-ups in the dining room. Thea sat next to Nessa, because she desperately needed an ally. Unfortunately, she was right across from Rachel.
Twenty minutes into dinner, Del stood at the end of the long table. “Everyone shut up.”
Conversations quieted as everyone focused on Del, who held a beer in one hand and his wife’s fingers in the other.
“Nessa and I want to thank you all for being here today to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. Some of you we love to have. Some of you we just put up with.”
Everyone laughed, but Thea suspected there was a lot of truth in his words. Thea smiled at Rachel, who smiled back. Thea could’ve sworn blood dripped from one corner of Rachel’s mouth.
“So I could stand here and do a long speech about being thankful and all that shit, but I don’t feel like it,” Del said. “Because Nessa and I have something to announce. Something we’ve been keeping quiet for a couple of months now.”
Nessa jumped up, her arms spread wide. “I’m pregnant!”
There was a happy pause and then a chaotic eruption of applause and congratulations and all the other things that normally greet a pregnancy announcement. Gavin stood and reached over to shake Del’s hand. “That’s awesome, Del. Congratulations.”
A few minutes later, Nessa sat back down, and Thea pulled her in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys.”
Nessa laughed weakly. “I’ve been dying to tell you, but we’ve had two miscarriages, and we just wanted to be sure.”
Thea grabbed Nessa’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I guess I also didn’t want to upset you, because I didn’t know what was going on with you and Gavin. It felt wrong to throw our good news in your face when you guys were having trouble.”
Somehow, that felt worse—knowing that someone withheld good news out of fear that Thea couldn’t handle it. It was even worse, though, when she looked up and realized Rachel had heard every word.
Rachel pounced immediately. “Thea, what about you and Gavin? Are we going to hear any good news anytime soon now that you two have patched things up?”
“Not unless you’re talking about me finishing my bachelor’s degree.” She smiled.
“Oh, you never finished college?”
“Not yet.”
“And why’s that?”
Jake slung an arm over the back of Rachel’s chair. His fingers appeared to dig a little too tightly into her shoulder.
“Well, Rachel, as I’m sure you know, I had to quit college because I got pregnant.”
“Oh, that’s right. I knew that. You guys hadn’t been dating very long, right? And didn’t Gavin get called up to the Majors right after that? What amazing timing for you.”
Thea felt the pressure of Gavin’s hand on her knee under the table.
“Thank you for that accurate recitation of the timeline of our relationship, Rachel. Can we hire you to write our Wikipedia page?”
Gavin’s fingers dug into her knee as Rachel’s mouth dropped open again.
“Remind me where you went to college, Rachel,” Thea said.
Tension soaked the air as half the table hung on their every word while the other half ate as if it were their last meal.
“I was a pre-law major at Ole Miss.”
“You didn’t go to law school?”
Rachel turned a luminous smile at her husband. “I did not. I happily gave it up for Jake’s career.”
Jake pretended to be fascinated by the stuffing on his plate.
“But surely you still wish to be a lawyer, don’t you?” Thea prodded, because the impulsive side of her was operating her voice like a puppet.
Gavin’s hand tightened on Thea’s knee. She shoved it away.
Rachel preened prettily before answering. “No, I don’t,” she said. “We all make sacrifices to support our husbands. Most of us don’t mind.”
Rage colored her vision red. Rachel had no fucking idea how much Thea had sacrificed for Gavin’s career. She was just about to tell her when Soledad Feliciano, Yan’s wife, broke the tension.
“So, Thea,” she said in the kind of nervous tone one might use with a rabid dog, “with your art background, you might be able to help us with some design ideas for the new logo for our charity softball game.”
The softball game was another WAGs tradition. Every summer, some of the Legends’ wives and girlfriends competed in a game against the wives and girlfriends of the Nashville hockey team to raise money for school supplies for needy children. For years, the game had been called WAGs vs. HAGs, because, you know, there’s an “h” in hockey. Ha-ha, so funny. It was astonishing how few people failed to see the problem with it, but maybe someone had finally convinced them that they needed a new name.
“I didn’t know we were getting a new logo,” Thea said.
“It was decided at our last meeting.” Rachel smiled.
The one Thea hadn’t been invited to.
“I’d be happy to,” Thea finally said, “if we can also get rid of the term WAGs.”
Rachel sputtered into her wineglass. A fork fell against a plate, and someone at the table uttered a blasphemy.
“Why on earth
would we do that?” Rachel asked, wiping a splatter of wine from her cleavage.
“Come on,” Thea said. “Wives and girlfriends? It’s so limiting. What if a woman makes it to the Majors someday? What would her boyfriend be called?”
“Since I highly doubt there are any female players who are anywhere near good enough for that, I don’t think that’s something we need to worry about,” Rachel said.
“Fine, then what about a gay player? The term WAGs is completely heteronormative. Don’t we want something more inclusive?”
“What exactly do you suggest?” Rachel asked.
“How about spouses and partners?”
Rachel paused for a moment and then said, “That would make us SAPs.”
“You’re right. It sure would.” Thea stood and picked up her plate. “I think I’ll check on the kids. Anyone need anything?”
Thea walked out of the silent dining room and around the corner. It wasn’t long before Gavin appeared. “What the hell was that?” he asked.
“That,” Thea said, setting down her plate, “was the kind of bullshit I’ve had to put up with from Rachel and her friends the entire time we’ve been married. I just decided to stand up to her for a change.”
“She always treats you like that?”
Thea snorted. “Um, yeah. From day one.”
His eyes pinched at the corners. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you know?”
Gavin shook his head, opened his mouth to say something, and then apparently thought better of it. He swallowed instead.
“Don’t worry about it,” Thea snapped. “It won’t be a problem much longer, anyway.”
She spun on her heels and left him standing there. And she spent the rest of the day with the kids, carefully avoiding his every attempt to get her alone.
Ava started complaining about a stomachache around six o’clock, so Gavin made their excuses. Nessa dished up some leftovers into a tower of plastic containers and carried them out to the car while Gavin got the girls ready to leave.
“It will get better,” Nessa said quietly, loading containers in the back of the car.
Thea sighed. “Thanks, but I don’t think Rachel is ever going to like me.”
“I’m talking about you and Gavin.”
Thea looked up.
“Give it a chance to get better, Thea,” Nessa said.
The front door opened, and Gavin walked out carrying Ava. Amelia scampered ahead of them. Nessa squeezed Thea’s arm and lowered her voice. “Call me anytime.”
Thea shut the door to the trunk as Nessa walked up the sidewalk. She paused to kiss the girls goodbye and give a one-armed hug to Gavin. Thea opened the door to Ava’s side and took her from Gavin without meeting his eyes.
“I’ll buckle Amelia in,” he said.
The drive home was as silent as the trip there. Gavin clenched the steering wheel. Thea stared out her window, watching other families in other cars. Smiling, laughing families. Did those husbands and wives start their holiday arguing about masturbation? The thought brought an absurd burst of hysterical laughter from her mouth, which quickly became a frustrated sigh. She felt more than saw Gavin’s head turn in her direction, but she kept her eyes locked on the passing scenery. The lifeless, gray sky matched her mood.
By the time they got home, Thea practically threw herself from the car. She unbuckled Ava and carried her to the porch, fumbling at the door with the key. Butter greeted them in the foyer with excited barks.
“Mommy, I don’t feel good,” Ava whined.
“I know, honey. Let’s get your coat off—”
Vomit covered the floor before she could finish her sentence. Ava began to cry. Butter began to sniff.
“Butter, no!” Thea grabbed the dog’s collar just as Ava heaved again. Another round of what-the-hell-did-she-eat splashed onto the floor. Behind her at the door, Gavin let out a quiet curse, and Amelia yelled, “Gross!”
Gavin rushed in and took Butter’s collar.
“I’ll clean this up,” Thea said. “Can you take her up and start a bath?”
“No!” Ava cried. “I want Mommy.”
“I’ll clean it up,” Gavin said. “Amelia, honey, just stay back for a second.”
Too late. Ava turned and heaved all over her sister. Amelia shrieked. Gavin cussed out loud this time. Butter barked like he’d found his own particular heaven and tried to start licking Amelia clean.
“Butter! Stop it! Girls, come on. Let’s get upstairs,” Thea soothed. “Ava, hold it if you can until we get to the bathroom.”
Both girls crying, Thea followed them upstairs and into their bathroom. Kneeling, she told them to put their arms up and then peeled their shirts from their bodies. She’d be lucky if she could salvage either garment. She told them to finish getting undressed as she started the bath. Downstairs, Gavin said something particularly unkind to Butter before presumably putting the dog out back.
“Mommy, I don’t feel good,” Amelia hiccupped, her face pale.
Oh, no. Thea took Amelia by the shoulders and steered her toward the toilet—a split second too late. And now there were two floors to be cleaned.
“It’s OK, sweetie,” Thea said, rubbing a circle on Amelia’s back. She turned around to check on Ava, who now stood naked and shivering. Balancing on one foot, Thea leaned over and checked the temperature of the water. “Go ahead and get in the bath, Ava.”
Turning back to Amelia, she gently moved her to the side of the toilet and told her to lean over in case there was more. And yep, there was. Amelia shivered with a pitiful whimper. Thea smoothed her hair back. “It’s OK, honey. It’ll be over soon.”
She finally got Amelia into the tub a few minutes later. Gavin appeared in the doorway as she lathered Ava’s hair. He looked at the floor, grimaced, and used a leg to block Butter from coming in.
“Amelia’s sick too,” Thea said. “Can you grab some clean towels from the closet?”
“Which closet?”
Resentment pounded at her temples. “The same closet they’ve always been in,” she said in a clipped voice as she dumped water over Ava’s head.
“Which one is that?” he snapped.
“Seriously? How long have we lived here?”
“I don’t spend a lot of time paying attention to towels, Thea.”
No shit. “The linen closet in the hallway.”
Gavin disappeared and returned a moment later with one hand towel. “This is all I could find.”
The pounding became a jackhammer. “I just put an entire stack of clean towels in there yesterday.”
“Well I didn’t find them. What do you want me to do?”
“There are clean ones in a basket in my room.”
A vein popped along his jaw. “Your room?”
Thea shot to her feet. “Forget it. I’ll get them.”
She stormed to the linen closet, retrieved the stack of towels that Gavin had to purposely not see in order to miss them, and stormed back.
“Where were those?”
“In the closet.” She dropped the stack on the floor and finished rinsing Ava’s hair. “OK, sweetie, go to Daddy.”
“I want Mommy,” Ava whined.
“You’re going to have to settle for me, squirt.” Gavin picked her up from the water. He knelt to dry her off, his body brushing against Thea’s as he did. She scooted over, which earned her an annoyed scowl.
“I’ll get Ava into her pajamas,” Gavin said. He stood, Ava in his arms. Tucking Ava’s head into his shoulder, he walked out of the bathroom.
Thea finished Amelia’s hair and then paused to gaze at her daughter, who still looked pale. “You feeling any better, honey?”
Amelia nodded and yawned. It was going to be an early bedtime tonight.
“Come on, sweetie.” Thea hef
ted Amelia from the tub and dried her off. Then she carried her into the girls’ bedroom. Gavin sat on the floor, threading a shirt over Ava’s head. He looked up.
She looked away.
* * *
• • •
Gavin’s neck burned with frustration at Thea’s dismissal. He tugged Ava’s sleep pants up. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“I want Mommy.”
Wow. Would that ever not hurt? He wished someone had told him that having children could devastate a man in ways unimaginable before. Gavin stood and picked Ava up. “Mommy’s getting Amelia dressed.”
He glanced backward. Thea had set Amelia on her bed and was helping her into a nightgown. Amelia pressed her face into Thea’s neck as Thea caressed the back of her head with a soft, soothing whisper that Gavin couldn’t hear. But he felt her voice all the same. Tender and loving. Gavin was officially jealous of his own kid.
Ava yawned, so Gavin set her on the bed and lifted the covers for her to scoot beneath. Thea had skipped the toddler bed thing with them and moved the girls straight into twin mattresses. They were way too small for Gavin’s long frame, but he made do. He laid down next to Ava and smoothed her wet hair from her face.
“You feel any better?” he whispered.
She nodded, yawning again. “My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“That’s good. You probably just ate too much at Uncle Del’s.”
“I had three pieces of pie.”
Yikes. “How’d you get three pieces?”
“Mack said we could have as much as we want.”
Gavin was going to kill him. “You need to ask Mommy or Daddy for stuff like that, honey. You know that.”
“But Mommy would say no.”
Gavin chuckled. “Probably. But that’s because she knows that if you eat too much, you’ll get sick.”
Ava’s eyelids grew heavy, and she snuggled her favorite stuffed animal to her face. The duck had once been bright yellow, but it was now faded into a dull hue from too much love. Gavin rubbed his hand up and down her tiny back, the warmth of her skin seeping through her pajama top.
The Bromance Book Club Page 13