The Sweet Spot

by Joan Livingston

  “You hurt me, and you scared Amber. She doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

  “It won’t happen again. I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

  He reached for her arm, but she yanked it back.

  “Don’t touch me.” She paused. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  Deep lines creased Walker’s brow.

  “You don’t mean it.”

  “I do. Nothing good’s gonna happen for us. People are gonna get hurt.”

  “I told you already I don’t care about that.” He dropped his voice. “We have a great time together. Don’t I make you feel good?”

  “It’s wrong, all wrong,” she whispered.

  Walker kissed her tenderly on the corner of her mouth, but she shrank back.

  “Edie, don’t.”

  “We shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

  “I’ll leave Sharon today. I wanna be with you.”

  “I know that, but would you love Gil’s girl like she was yours?” she asked. “I have to think about her, too.”

  Walker was silent.

  “Yes,” he finally said.

  Edie’s eyes filled with tears.

  “It’s not true.”

  Benny Sweet’s truck pulled into the drive. Walker snorted when the old man rocked in his seat.

  “You’d better leave,” Edie said.

  His eyes were stuck on her.

  “We’re not done. I mean it.”

  Walker was in his truck and gone before Benny Sweet’s feet were on the ground.

  Three Strikes

  Edie dug the toes of her cleats into the dirt in front of the visitors’ bench while she watched Vera’s daughter chase a high one by the pitcher from Hartsville. It was her second strike, and her mouth hung open when the ump called the third on a perfect pitch she watched. The girl stomped to the bench.

  “Call that a strike? The ump must be blind,” she whined.

  “It was a strike,” Edie said. “Next time, try standing back in the batter’s box. You can see the ball easier.”

  The girl huffed off and sat on the bench beside her mother. Before long, the two of them had their heads together.

  “Hey, Edie.” Vera spat her gum onto the grass. “Mind your own business and let me do the coaching.”

  Edie didn’t answer. Instead, she clapped for the next batter. Patsy sat beside her on the bench.

  “What’s going on?”

  Edie shook her head.

  “I’m not coming back if Vera’s coaching next year,” she said.

  “Edie, don’t say that.”

  “I don’t care about losing. I’ve been on losing teams before. But the fun’s gone.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “All I hear is bitchin’ about who makes a bad play. The worse is Vera and her cousins, and that daughter of hers.”

  Aunt Leona noticed it, too. After the last game, their third loss in a row, she announced in the car, “The team’s going down the toilet with a giant flush from that woman.”

  Patsy sighed.

  “You’re right. It’s not the same,” she said.

  The next player hit a pop-up to the second baseman from Hartsville, so they trotted onto the field. Edie punched her glove and got into position at third. The first two outs were easy, but Gloria missed a dribbler, and one of the outfielders bobbled an easy fly. The bases got loaded on a line drive. Gloria kept rotating her shoulder while she walked near the pitcher’s rubber. The girls from the other team, sensing her fatigue, squealed on the sidelines. Edie peeked at the scoreboard. It was eleven to three in the fourth. Conwell was losing again. She blew air through her lips.

  Edie checked on Aunt Leona, who swatted mosquitoes and pouted in her lawn chair. Her drinking buddies didn’t make the long ride to Hartsville, a new team in the league, and so it meant a dry game for her. Amber was at the playground, pumping herself high on a swing.

  Gloria lobbed one the batter smacked out of play although the high school girl in leftfield made a go for it. The second pitch hit the plate, called a ball by the umpire, and so did the next. Robin chucked the ball back to Gloria, who spun around to study her team. Gloria appeared to be figuring out something before she got back in place.

  Leona put her two hands together to holler, “Hey, Gloria, throw her the funny one.”

  Gloria laughed to herself as she brought the mitt and the ball upward as if she were going to kiss them. Her right hand swung back and forth before she released the softball in a perfect arc. The batter connected, but Edie, reaching, snagged it. Afterward, she slapped gloves with Gloria.

  “I’m getting way too old for this,” Gloria told her.

  Edie trotted to the bench, where Vera leaned toward her, “I’m putting in one of the high school girls at third. You can sit the rest of the game.”

  “What? I never sit the bench this early,” Edie said.

  “Maybe it’s about time you do. I always thought Birdie played favorites. Anyway, I’m the coach now.” Vera rose with the scorebook in her hand. “I’ll tell the other team about the sub.”

  Edie stared straight ahead, silent, stewing on this while she brushed off stares from the other players. She pressed her fingers lightly against her bruised face, enjoying the sensation. The marks had faded, so they appeared as if someone had painted her skin with a light wash of purple, green, and yellow. Soon they’d be gone. Walker wasn’t giving up so easily, however, calling every night to ask her forgiveness, and each time, she told him they were through. She couldn’t let him hear any doubt in her voice. She had to be strong.

  Aunt Leona kept talking about Walker. The last time she said, “Walker’s bad news no matter how good the sex was. I mean it’s why you were with him, right? The sex.”

  “Some of it,” she answered.

  At the store, Walker gave her a hand-dog expression as if she was the one to wrong him. She made a point of staying out of his way, ducking out the back if she heard or saw him. Her mother-in-law complained once she couldn’t find her, and the woman blushed when Edie said she had cramps.

  Edie came home one afternoon to find a small velvet box on her doorstep that contained black pearl earrings to match the necklace he once gave her. The next day, while Walker was in the store, she snuck out to put the box, now containing the earrings and necklace, in the front seat of his truck.

  That night Walker phoned her. His voice was wrung by grief and anger.

  “Keep ’em, Edie. They’re for you,” he begged.

  “I don’t want ’em.”

  “Damn it, at least hold onto the necklace. I gave you that before.”

  Her throat got tight.

  “Walker, leave me alone. Just leave me the hell alone.”

  “Or what?”

  She put the receiver down.

  For the past two nights when Edie looked out her bedroom window, Walker was parked outside, spying on her house. She didn’t tell Pop, of course, or Aunt Leona.

  When Walker called next, she asked him to stop. He laughed.

  “It’s a free country, baby,” he told her.

  She began locking the doors at night.

  Edie watched her teammates take the field. A couple of the veteran players gave her questioning looks, but she waved them off.

  Amber tapped her shoulder.

  “Ma, why aren’t you out there? Aunt Leona said to ask.”

  “Vera put somebody else in my place.”

  “You look mad.”

  “I’m mad, but I’ll get over it. It’s not important.” She smiled. “Tell Aunt Leona I’ll give her the whole scoop later.”

  In the end, the game was a rout. Conwell lost by one run short of the mercy rule. Players grumbled as they stowed their stuff. Edie, who had already packed her gear,
went to help Leona.

  “Edie, get your butt over here,” Vera yelled. “We need help with the equipment.”

  Edie brushed her off.

  “That Vera has a goddamn nerve,” she mumbled.

  She stopped when a woman jogged toward her.

  “Edie, right? We met at the Lookout. I waited on your table. Remember? You and Walker were there one night.” She grinned. “Walker here by any chance?”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “He was in not that long ago with your boys. Cute kids. Twins, right?”

  Edie’s heart beat harder when she saw Vera standing nearby. The woman squinted, rolling her lips as she savored this moment.

  “Sorry, I gotta go. Nice to see you again,” Edie said.

  She escorted Aunt Leona to the car. Amber went ahead with the chair. When she glanced back, Vera was talking with the woman.

  She moved faster, pushing her aunt so quickly, the woman complained, “Jesus, Edie, where’s the fire?”

  Owed Him

  Back from guarding Edie’s house, Walker got a beer from the refrigerator. He smelled Sharon’s cigarette when he went into the living room. Her eyes were beaded by anger.

  “Just comin’ from your girlfriend’s?” she said through her teeth.

  Walker froze.

  “What’d you say?”

  “You heard me. Your girlfriend, Edie.” She made a scornful laugh. “Christ, Walker you should see yours face.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. You’re acting goofy, Sharon. You got your period? That why?”

  “Shut up, Walker. Just shut up.” She spat her words. “Vera called me about the waitress from the Lookout who was at the Hartsville game tonight. She told Vera she saw you and Edie all lovey-dovey the day you went to the camp a while back. She thought you two were married. She even thought our boys belonged to her.”

  Her lips curled into a sneer.

  “My brother, Buddy, figured something was up the night he saw you eatin’ there. You told him you was meeting some guy, but I bet it was her. My brother’s smart. He thought somethin’ was fishy. I should’ve listened to him.”

  Walker didn’t move. He felt his anger strobe while his wife continued to talk.

  “What’s the matter? You got nothin’ to say? I sure got plenty. All these years, you helpin’ her out, feelin’ sorry for her. Vera told me how you come into the store, talking with her, sniffing around like a dog. No wonder you don’t touch me.”

  Her voice was so shrill, he wanted to slap her mouth. It was a miracle their sons hadn’t woken up.

  “Pack your stuff and get the hell outta here. Me and the boys don’t need you.” She laughed hard. “Maybe that little slut will take you in. Or did you hit her so hard she doesn’t want you anymore? Ha, that’d be rich.”

  Walker stepped closer, clenching his hands. Sharon saw it, too.

  “Go ahead. Hit me. I dare you. I’ll just call Buddy and get you arrested.” She gritted her teeth. “You don’t know how much I hate you right now.”

  It was then he saw the revolver on her lap. She patted the gun as if it were a pet. But he didn’t think she had it in her to fire it. It probably wasn’t even loaded.

  “I hate you, too, you fat bitch. Only reason I married you was cause I knocked you up, and then you lost the baby. I should’ve left you then.”

  Sharon snorted.

  “I got news for you. I was never pregnant. Fooled you, didn’t I?”

  Walker went for the lamp on the table beside her chair, yanking it, so a flame shot from the socket. Sharon raised her feet and shrieked when he smashed it to the floor. He rushed through the darkness to their bedroom to pack a couple of bags. Dean would take him in, he was certain, and he’d come back later for the rest after he worked things out.

  A Place To Crash

  Dean swung open the door to his singlewide mobile home. A small flap of belly hung over his white Jockeys.

  “What’s going on? Why you here?” He yawned. “It’s pretty late.”

  “I need a place to crash for a while. Sharon threw me out.” He looked past Dean’s thin, hairy body. “What? You got somebody inside? A woman?”

  He stepped back.

  “Ha, I wish. Come on in.”

  Walker threw his sleeping roll and two duffle bags beside the door. The place was a mess, smelling like old beer and cigarette smoke. He tipped an uncapped bottle of Jack Daniels toward Dean, who took a swig before handing it back. Dean swept clothes, papers, and other junk off the couch onto the floor. Both men plunked themselves down.

  “The fat bitch got wind of Edie and me. She threatened to call that cop brother of hers. She even had a gun.” Walker fished for the pack in his shirt pocket. “You’re not gonna believe this one. She faked being knocked up, so I’d marry her.”

  Dean took a butt, keeping his good ear toward Walker, a habit that made it appear he was a bit unbalanced.

  “You’re shittin’ me. Too bad you didn’t know sooner.” He exhaled. “You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble and money.”

  “Don’t rub it in.” Walker’s eyes narrowed. “I gotta find me a lawyer, but I’m sure as hell not using yours.”

  “What’d you mean by that?”

  Walker’s head swiveled for effect.

  “How many years were you married? All you got out of it was this trailer and the junk you have in it.”

  “What’d you expect? She got the house cause her daddy gave us the money for the down payment.” Dean shrugged. “I walked out with my dogs, the clothes on my back, and enough dough to buy this trailer. Glad we didn’t have kids, or I’d have to pay for them.” He flicked at the peeling label on the Jack. “I’d say I actually made out pretty good considering.”

  Walker scowled.

  “I’m not gonna get away so easily.” He reached for the bottle. “Right now, I don’t give a shit. Help yourself by the way.”

  “Sure, Walker.”

  Walker took another drink before he passed the Jack to Dean. He found the bottle at home and drank from it on his way here. At least Dean had a spare room, and the man did owe him. No one else wanted to hire him, broken down after Vietnam, drinking and drugging too much, and here he was first man in charge of his crew. Too bad he blew his money at the Do.

  “Shit, I have to meet those New Yorkers tomorrow to go over the money,” Walker said. “I’ll just have to see her later to give her the news.”

  “You talking about Edie?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up and down. “Nobody’s seen her lately. People at the Do have been asking.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, so you don’t have to say it. I think about it all the time.”

  Found Out

  Edie knelt before a row of cartons in the center aisle of the general store.

  “Amber, Mrs. Brewster wants a can of coffee and one of the sweet milk,” Edie read from her list. “I think that’s all. No, wait. She wants a box of rice. Get the kind she likes.”

  Her girl scooted around the corner.

  “Okay, Ma,” she shouted.

  The old-timers called in their orders the day before. If Edie didn’t answer the phone, they insisted on speaking with her because they knew she’d write everything down carefully and let them ramble a bit about themselves.

  It took all Saturday morning to finish the route. She and Amber would have to bring in the boxes, and for some of the sickly ones, put everything away. She checked around the house to see if they needed anything done. Many offered them something to drink, wanting her and Amber to stay a few minutes more, to hear the news in town, and for their company.

  “How about some cold water? I’m real thirsty. So’s Amber,” Edie would say, and the man or woman would go to the sink to let the faucet run until the water got as cold as it was in the ground. />
  Amber learned quickly that well water was all they would accept because many had less than them. But they wanted these people to feel they could give them something. What was better than a cold glass of water?

  Edie was pleased her daughter wasn’t shy with any of them. Then again, she had been coming along since she was a baby, and Edie set her down on the lap of an old folk while she brought in the groceries. They wanted to hear how Amber was doing in school. They asked her to show off her Halloween costume and to tell them what she wanted for Christmas and her birthday. They kept saying Edie should find a husband, how her precious girl needed a man as fine as Gil to be her father. These people became part of their extended family, and it saddened them when any got so feeble they had to go into a home. They grieved when each one died.

  Edie’s hand was on her hip as she checked the list.

  “I need three rolls of toilet paper, two boxes of corn flakes, and one of oatmeal.” Amber scurried to the next aisle. “There and there.” Edie pointed to the right boxes when she returned. “Go ask Grandpa to put the cooler in the car. He should be done marking the packages of meat.”

  She went behind the register, where Vera rang up an order. She ignored the woman’s probing glance as she collected nip bottles, candy bars, and small packages of pies to tuck in the boxes.

  “Who ordered that stuff?”

  Edie pretended not to hear. If her in-laws insisted, she would pay, but she didn’t think Fred and Marie would begrudge a few extras for these old-timers, their store’s most loyal customers. She bent over the boxes, double-checking the lists before she carried them through the store’s back door to her car. The cardboard boxes with the dry stuff went in the trunk. The rest was stacked in the back seat and on the floor. It was a full load.

  Edie tucked the folded paper in the pocket of her dress. Amber was back.

  “We’re almost done, kiddo,” she told her daughter. “The last box is missing a can of baked beans and a jar of relish. Hurry up. We gotta get going.”

  Edie frowned. Sharon was in the store. The woman stopped to talk with Vera, but her small, dark eyes were pinned on Edie. She guessed what was coming. The waitress at last night’s game told Vera about her and Walker being together at the Lookout, and naturally she told her sister. Edie felt trapped as the woman’s heavy footsteps vibrated through the floorboards. Sharon held her purse as if she was strangling it.