Extra Innings

by Stevens, Lynn

  “Of course. We’ll get you a new dress –” Mom began as she grinned in triumph.

  “Can’t I wear one that I already have?” I hated dress shopping with Mom. She made me try on everything and I never wanted any of them.

  “Fine, you can wear the one your father loves.” She tilted her head in thought. “That pink chiffon –”

  “Oh no. I’m so not wearing that ever again. I’ll wear that black dress I wore to the Inaugural Ball.”

  Mom threw her hands up. “Fine. And your father said you can bring Theo if you wish.”

  I sat up straighter. She didn’t really say I could bring my boyfriend. “Are you serious?”

  “Go call him so he can get a tux,” Grandma said. She picked the bowl of strawberries from the table and popped one in her mouth.

  I kissed each one on the cheek and ran down the short hall to my room. Theo and I weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye lately. Maybe this would turn things back into a positive swing. I closed my door and listened to some crappy country song playing as Theo’s ringback tone.

  “Hey, what’re you doing Saturday night?” I asked when his deep, soft voice answered. He could have a career as a late night D.J., but Theo’s goals were much higher than that.

  “Packing. Why?”

  I fell back on my small bed. “There’s this thing I have to go to and I can bring a guest.”

  “I get to go to one of the Senator’s fundraisers?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s a charity thing.”

  He paused. “Yeah, I’m free. What time?” When I didn’t answer right away, he jumped on it. “Did you forget to ask, Victoria?”

  He never called me “Vic” or “Vicky”, claiming he preferred my complete name. Funny, I never called him Theodore.

  “Yeah, Theo, I did. I was in shock, I guess. Anyway, it’s black tie.”

  “I’ve got a tux.”

  “Great. I’ll text you the details.”

  “Okay,” he said with a huff. Something crashed in the background. “Crap.”

  “What’re you doing anyway?” I asked.

  “Getting the luggage out of the basement.” He groaned and something else fell. “I’m starting to pack for our trip. Still wish you were going.”

  A small pang of guilt sat on my gut. Some of the incoming seniors at Xavier Academy went to Europe for a few weeks every summer. I opted out to stay home and play baseball. “You’ll have fun without me. Besides, I’ve been there and done that.”

  “But not with me.”

  The pang grew into a beach ball size rock in my stomach. Then I realized he hadn’t even asked about practice. “Aren’t you going to ask how today was?”

  “Today?” Another small crash in the background. “Oh, right. Your first practice. Slipped my mind.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Well, I’m assuming that since you aren’t crying, you didn’t get kicked off the team.”

  “Because I’m such a cry-baby, right?” I stood up and started pacing. What the hell is he thinking?

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  I didn’t feel like fighting with him so soon after making up from the last one. “Coach had no reason to kick me off.”

  “Except that you lied on your application.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said, probably with too much force, but I was tired of being called a liar.

  “Okay, fine. You did mislead the league.”

  That I couldn’t deny. “Better.”

  “And that you are of the opposite sex.” He grunted again and I heard the distinct sound of something silver falling on the wooden floor. “I doubt the guys on your team didn’t fail to miss that.”

  “Point?”

  He sighed. “Victoria, I just hope it’s worth it. You know that if your father finds –”

  “Don’t go there, Theo. He won’t find out.” I fell back onto my bed just as Mom knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. “Look, I gotta go. Mom’s here.”

  Theo hung up without saying anything. I tossed the phone on my pillow.

  “Hey, honey. I’m sorry to interrupt.” She sat down beside me and took in every inch of my room. “This must seem so cramped to you.”

  “Nah, not really.” I hadn’t thought about it much, but it could probably fit in my room at home twice, maybe three times. I had a simple single bed with a mismatched patchwork quilt. There was an oak nightstand and a matching four drawer dresser. Grandma didn’t decorate it with my tastes in mind, but it felt more like me than the princess room back at Chez Hudson.

  “Oh.” She glanced around the room again. Mom never left the house in anything less than the perfect outfit and perfect helmet hair. “I need to get to the Tea Room for a meeting. Are you sure you’re going to be okay here?”

  I sat up and tried to read the expression on her face. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  She patted my knee and walked out of my tiny bedroom, leaving me with that feeling that something was wrong and it was somehow my fault. The Lincoln started in the driveway as I headed down the hall to the kitchen. Grandma stood over the sink of fresh strawberries, humming to herself. She amazed me. Grandma was in her late sixties, yet acted twenty-five. She rarely stayed home for long. If there was a charity event, she was there. If there was a protest, she’d be right up front, much to my father’s dismay. Her appearances increased more and more after Grandpa’s death.

  After forty-five years of marriage, Grandma didn’t have anyone to keep her in-check anymore. She went into full hippie mode. Her silver hair grew to her waist and she started wearing clothes that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades and probably should’ve remained hidden.

  She also became a lot more fun to hang around.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked

  She dropped the strawberries back into the colander and stared at the ceiling.

  “Come on, Grandma. You planned it. You could’ve told me instead of letting Mom lead the ambush.” I leaned against the archway and crossed my arms, waiting for an answer.

  “Because I wasn’t going to demand that you go. And I know you don’t like these functions.” She turned toward me, drying her hands on a pale yellow towel. “And I didn’t expect your father would fly back from Washington for it.”

  I scoffed. “Why wouldn’t he? It’s the perfect thing to put his mug in the paper.”

  “Vicky –”

  I didn’t let her finish. “Does he know I’m living here?”

  “Of course. You mother had to tell him something. He thinks you’re helping me adjust.” She put air quotes around “adjust” then threw the towel on the stove. “He thinks I’m a delicate old lady who can’t do anything for myself. It’s the perfect cover.”

  I nodded and stared at the tiled floor.

  “You realize that your mother’s upset about all this, don’t you?”

  “What? Why would Mom be mad at me?”

  “She wishes you would’ve come to her first.”

  So that was the deal in the bedroom. She wanted to tell me how disappointed she was or angry because I arranged to move in with Grandma before I asked her. I’d already sent in my application to play ball too, but she didn’t need to know that.

  Besides, I get enough of that kind of crap from my father.

  The phone rang in the living room and she hurried past me. “And get dressed,” she shouted from over her shoulder. “You’re going to the Habitat house with me this afternoon.”

  I mouthed the words along with her as she added, “It’ll look good on your college applications.”

  Habitat Homes for St. Louis was one of Grandma’s first charities. And her favorite. Before Grandpa died, she donated money and helped out at the office. Now, she’d taken over. As soon as we got to the site, she jumped in to help build something while I stood on the sidelines, helpless.

  “Hey,” a rasping voice said behind me, making the hair on my neck stand at attention. “You’re Vic, rig
ht?”

  Turning to defend myself from possible attack, I pulled my fists up to my chest. They fell back to my sides when I saw one of the guys from the team. “Oh, hey. You’re Daniel?”

  Of course he was Daniel. He was the only Asian guy on the team. Without the ball cap, his dark hair stood in every direction. There was a hammer in his oil slicked hand and a streak of grease on his right cheek. Instinct told my fingers to reach out and wipe the grease away. Fortunately, my brain didn’t let that happen.

  He cleared his throat. “Do you need something to do?”

  I must have looked totally confused before I realized what he meant. “Oh. I mean, yeah. Sorry, I’ve never done this before.” Now I sounded like an ass for being Habitat stupid. You go, girl.

  He grinned, showing a chipped front tooth. “I can tell. You have that deer-in-headlights look about you. Not that I’ve ever actually seen a deer in headlights.” He nodded behind him. “Help me over there.”

  I followed him through the wooden juggernaut. It looked like a bunch of two-by-fours stuck together. No way did it resemble a house. I couldn’t even see the grass, and my sneakers were no longer white from all the sawdust. But the smell of fresh cut timber made me swoon. It was clean and foresty like the potpourri Mom had stocked in the bathrooms.

  “How long have you been doing this? Volunteering, I mean.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. What is it about him that makes me feel like an idiot? I tripped and seized what looked like a door frame. “Mother trucker.”

  “You okay?” He turned around and grabbed my arm to steady me as my hand slid on the rough wood. “Easy, slick.”

  “Ow, ow, ow.” God, I was whining like a baby. I held out my palm and there was a long splinter jammed into the fleshy pad under my thumb.

  “Come on,” he said, with a shy smile that sent little sparks from my toes to my fingertips. “First aid is over here. And I’ll get you some gloves.”

  I shook off the tingleys as I followed him to a card table with a white cloth draped over it. There were a couple of opened first aid kits scattered with bandages, antiseptics, and bottles of peroxide and alcohol.

  He pointed to one of the flimsy folding chairs. “Sit.”

  The chair tipped to the right and I scooted to the edge to keep from falling to the ground, further exposing my asinine ways.

  He sat down with a pair of tweezers and lifted my hand, laying it flat on the table. “This won’t hurt.”

  “Promise?” My thumb brushed over his finger as he lowered the tweezers – Crap, I shouldn’t be flirting. I don’t even know this guy. And I have Theo. He’s been a good boyfriend. Besides, I’m not going to go out with a guy on my team. No way. Not happening. But I really like how soft Daniel’s hand feels. Not good. No, not good at all.

  Then he ripped the splinter out. I yelped at the stinging pain. That knocked out any good feelings I had. The guy was a masochist.

  “Hope that didn’t hurt.” He grinned. All was almost forgiven. Except my hand throbbed in time with the mariachi music playing on the other side of the yard. “Let’s get you some gloves.”

  We walked over to a workbench and he grabbed a pair of well-worn gloves. They were surprisingly heavy and too big, but I slid them on anyway as he led me to the north side of the soon-to-be house. The pounding and yelling were starting to give me a headache. Then the saws started.

  Daniel bent over a haphazard pile of two-by-fours and freed a lost bandana. I admit I checked out his perfect rear end. It was way better than Theo’s.

  “Help me carry these, would you?” Daniel asked as he straightened up.

  “Huh?” My head snapped up and the tell-tale flush of guilt crept on my face. He’d caught me checking him out. Bad, Vic. Think about Theo.

  He walked to one end. “I’ll go in the front and lead the way. It’s easier if you pull it up and hold it on one side of your shoulder like this.”

  It wasn’t heavy. At first. By the time we’d taken all the boards over to the saws, my arms burned. Fortunately, Daniel didn’t talk while we worked. We just moved the wood, doing what needed to be done. It was actually kind of cool. I didn’t think about anything for an hour other than “lift, carry, walk,” and “look out” or “don’t trip.”

  Daniel pointed to a row of orange water coolers that sat precariously on a wide piece of plywood over two sawhorses. We staggered through the cloud of sawdust. The water coolers were in a much quieter area where the saws were just a buzz in the background. He handed me a paper cup and I sipped the lukewarm water, then drained it. I refilled it two more times.

  “Let’s sit over there.” He pointed to a lone picnic table under an oak tree on the edge of the work site. It didn’t look sturdy either, but my body screamed “sit down,” so I followed and sat across from him.

  I sipped my fourth cup of water and surveyed the site. The saws, hammers, and shouting worked into a melodious rhythm.

  “Why play baseball?” he asked, breaking me out of my daze.

  My shoulders fell as I faced him. I knew the question would be asked, I just didn’t expect it twice in one day. “It’s complicated.” I looked back toward the wooded maze. From this distance, I could see the shape of a house. Grandma stood in the center with a bright red hardhat, barking orders to a group of guys on the eastern side. “Why do you do this?”

  He shrugged. “Just do. I like working with my hands.” He pointed to a tall Asian man in a blue polo with blueprints in his hand. He was talking to a big guy who looked more like one of the lumberjacks from reality TV. “Dad’s an architect and helps design the Habitat houses. Ever since I can remember, we’ve been working on them.” He paused and half smiled. “It sounds cheesy, but I like that someone is going to live here. I can picture it. I can see some kids running in the yard. And it’s cool knowing that I helped.”

  “That’s really nice.” Of course it’s nice. He has to be hot and nice.

  “Tell me why baseball.”

  “What if someone told you that you couldn’t do this anymore because you’re a boy?” I waved my hand dramatically around the work site. “Not because you aren’t a good worker or because you made a bad call or a major mistake, but because you have the wrong sex organs. How’d you feel?”

  His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “So this is a girl versus boy thing?”

  “No, not at all.” I watched him for signs of disbelief. He looked interested. It didn’t seem normal. “I love baseball. When I was little, I played all the time. Then they kicked me out of Little League and told me to play softball. That’s all fine, but it isn’t the same. I know that you guys will all think I’m trying to make a point that girls can play as well as boys, but that isn’t the case. I honestly just want to play baseball. This is my last shot. After this year, I’m not eligible for the summer programs. Then I’ll be in college. I just want to be on a team again. That’s all.”

  “Softball teams aren’t good enough?”

  I laughed. “Wow, I’m going to say something totally anti-feminist right now. Have you ever played on a team with a bunch of whiny girls? The summer leagues don’t cut anyone. You know that. The district I lived in had a bunch of girly girls who only played because they thought they’d meet boys. I bet other leagues are different, but not mine.

  “And my school doesn’t have a softball team. Just volleyball and basketball. Plus the guys I know take the competition more seriously.” I dropped my head to my chest. “God, that sounded more horrible than I thought.”

  “Yeah, that is kinda anti-feminist.”

  We laughed like we’d known each other our whole lives. He was too damned easy to talk to. “Daniel, I am seriously not trying to make any statement. I just want to play baseball.”

  He stared at me for a minute before smiling.

  “Can I ask you a question without offending you?” I crumpled my cup.

  “Probably not, but you can give it a shot.”

  “Where are you from? Your family, I mean.”

  “St.
Louis born and raised. So is my dad. Mom’s from Chicago, but don’t worry.” He glanced around and leaned in. “She’s not a Cubs fan.” He started laughing in his light tenor voice again. “But seriously, my great-grandparents on my dad’s side are from Korea. They immigrated just before Grandfather was born.”

  I was suddenly worried that I’d made an ally to only piss him off. “I didn’t offend you, did I?”

  “Nah, I get that all the time. Just comes with being a hot Asian guy.” He took my crumbled cup off the picnic table and tossed it in the trash. “Come on. I’ll teach you how to hammer a nail, Korean style.”

  “There’s a Korean way to hammer a nail?” I asked as I stood up.

  “Nope, but I figured you’d fall for that.”

  The rest of the afternoon, Daniel and I hammered nails into boards and connected them to other boards. I didn’t have the slightest idea what I was doing. By the time we finished, we’d put together a wall. Well, part of a wall. A couple of the guys came over and took it away from us. They carried it carefully up the stairs that weren’t there this morning and hammered it in place.

  He stood over my shoulder and I was totally aware of it. Daniel was a couple of inches taller than me, which was nice for a change. “Cool, huh?” he said.

  It was hard not to lean back and inhale his soft sandalwood scent I was all too aware of. “Very. I can see why you do this.”

  “Yeah, but you’re gonna feel it tomorrow.”

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “What do you mean by that?”

  He laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Just wait.”

  “Time to go, Dan,” his father said, coming up behind him. He was taller than I’d originally thought. His skin was darker and his hair was combed. Other than that, he looked just like his son.

  “Hey, Dad. You know that girl I was telling you about that’s gonna play baseball this summer? Well, this is her.”

  Mr. Cho looked me up and down then offered a thin hand. “Nice to meet you. Daniel tells me you aren’t a bad player.”

  I forced back a proud smile. “Thank you, sir. It’s nice to meet you too.”