Heart of the Game

by Rachel Spangler

  “Is that why you were rude to her?”

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to talk to her, so I tried to hide, but then Mom made me talk. I didn’t want you to think I liked her more than I like you, even if Mom does.”

  Sadness, pride, love, and appreciation all rolled together to form a hard lump in her throat. Joe had wrestled the best he could with so many emotions she herself couldn’t even put into order. “I don’t even know what to say, buddy.”

  He looked at her, eyes filled with hurt and confusion. “But you always know the right thing to say.”

  She kicked up her leg to stop Charlie again. “Toll time.”

  “I did four laps,” he argued. “Toll booth times five.”

  “Really?” She hadn’t been counting. She didn’t even care about the pizza anymore, and she was clearly out of answers. “I guess tonight is going to follow the rule of diminishing returns.”

  Charlie eyed her indignantly. “Baby lion bite?”

  “At this point I’ll take whatever I can get.” She held out the slice of pizza, and he nibbled a bit before she released him. Then she turned back to Joe. “I’m good at baseball conversations, Joe. The rest of it, not so much.”

  “But isn’t baseball, like, everything?”

  “It’s a lot of things, but not always everything. I adore you and Charlie. I like your mom a lot, too. I like her so much I want her to be happy, but we have to trust she knows what will make her happy. Right now, tonight, she thinks that’s Lauren.”

  Joe scrunched up his nose, as if Lauren’s name carried a funky smell.

  “Come on,” she prodded. “Lauren seems nice. She’s polite, and she made your mom smile. She’s treating her to a fancy dinner and giving her some of the attention she deserves. I respect her.”

  “So she’s like a worthy opponent?”

  His ability to tie their current situation to their common ground should have made this conversation more comfortable, but instead it only drove home her earlier point that she was probably outmatched.

  “Maybe, but I don’t want you to view her as my competition. I don’t want you rooting for team Duke or against team Lauren. We’re all on team Molly.”

  “But what if Lauren isn’t the best? Shouldn’t the best person win?”

  Duke sighed at the conflicting mix of feelings the prospect inspired, hope for herself, fear for Molly, and protectiveness for their little family. “That’s for your mom to decide. I won’t step in there, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “But that’s not what you said. You said you can’t let the fear of striking out stop you from swinging the bat. You said you should do the right thing because it’s what you love, not because of what anyone else thinks.”

  “This isn’t a game, Joe.”

  “No.” The anguish rose in his voice. “This is more important than even baseball, and you aren’t even trying.”

  “I am trying. I’m trying to do what’s best for your mom.”

  “You could be the best for my mom. You could take her to dinner and make her smile and give her attention, too, but you’re not.” His voice cracked with emotion. “You said if you want to be the best, you have to beat the best. Don’t you want to at least try to be the best?”

  The words hit her like a curveball to the ribs. Had she tipped her hat to the competition without ever taking the field? She’d grown used to hard work and being underestimated in every other area of her life, but she’d never backed down. She had to fight her father’s ideas about a woman’s place in baseball, the other sportswriters’ criticism about her capacity to cover a sport she’d never played, the baseball establishment’s prejudices against women in the locker room. No one in her life had thought she’d been the right person or had what it took to chase any of her dreams. Why was this any different? She’d never had anything so wonderful as Molly at stake. Then again, she’d never had anyone put their faith in her the way Joe had either.

  “I want…” Exasperated, she blew out a heavy breath. She wanted too many things. She wanted to do right by the boys and herself and most of all Molly, but for once she let herself consider the idea that she could be what was best for Molly. She let the idea rattle around her head and spread into her chest, invigorating her as it went. “I do want a chance.”

  Joe hopped out of his seat and pumped his fist.

  “Hey now, calm down.” She immediately regretted getting his hopes up. “You and I both have to remember, at any given time any team has a chance to be the best. You don’t win championships in one day. You win them by doing the little things right, through the long days and late nights, and sometimes even when you do everything right someone else does them better. If that’s the case, you and I have to respect that.”

  Joe nodded, but this time with none of his earlier solemnity. “I promise, but it makes me happy you’re at least going to get in the game.”

  His enthusiasm inspired her, even though she understood this was no game. She’d known since the day they met that Molly deserved the best in everything, but for the first time she relished the challenge of being that for her.

  Bottom of the Third

  The Games Aren’t Played on Paper

  Molly stopped outside the door to her apartment. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she didn’t want to go inside. It felt surreal to stay out past eleven o’clock and not long for sleep. Normally she stayed up this late only with a sick kid or housework or trying to figure out how to make ends meet financially. Those times, eleven o’clock seemed as late as the hours leading up to it were long. With Lauren the evening had flown by. Dinner had ended in a flash, and dessert didn’t last nearly long enough. Even the hour they’d spent lingering over coffee felt more like minutes. Lauren proved every bit as socially adept as she was beautiful.

  Any time the conversation faltered, Lauren picked it up and carried them through. Molly, too, had found it easy to mask her initial nervousness as they successfully dodged many of the topics she’d feared, like why she was raising two boys alone without any family in the picture, or the fact that this was her first date with a woman, ever. Lauren kept the conversation moving by providing the right mix of lightness without being superficial, and personal without prying. The blend made for an all-around perfect evening, and Molly hated to see it end.

  “I had a wonderful time tonight,” Lauren whispered as though she feared being heard by the children or the neighbors.

  “I did, too. The best time I’ve had in…ages.”

  Lauren smiled sweetly as though waiting.

  Panic pricked at Molly’s skin. Did she expect to be invited in? Molly glanced back at the door separating them from her boys and the carefully protected life she’d built for their family. She wasn’t eager to say good night, but she wasn’t ready for Lauren, and all the emotions she inspired, to invade her sanctuary. A few hours ago, she wasn’t even sure she was ready to date. Now she was contemplating…nothing. She wasn’t contemplating anything. She’d taken a huge step tonight, a wonderful one, but still monumental. She wasn’t ready for anything more, and even if she had been, the boys weren’t. As amazing as her grown-up time with Lauren had been, she had to put the boys’ needs ahead of her own. Of course they should be in bed by now, but she didn’t have high hopes, given Duke’s inexperience at babysitting. She wouldn’t be surprised to find the place looking like a war zone and Duke hogtied under Charlie’s bed. Lauren couldn’t come in for a whole myriad of reasons.

  “So…” Lauren said, “I guess I should go.”

  Molly felt her pulling away, and her chest tightened. She’d avoided reminders of the constraints on her life all night, but this one wouldn’t disappear.

  “I guess so.” She watched the disappointment register in the slight frown tugging at Lauren’s beautiful red lips, and her own walls began to go up. She should have known this couldn’t work.

  “I don’t want to pressure you too much,” Lauren continue
d. “I know it’s not easy for you to find time off, and I’m honored you chose to spend some of that time with me. If dinner and drinks are all you can offer I understand, but I don’t want this to be good-bye.”

  Molly’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t want to have to tell Lauren no, but clearly she was going to have to. Surely when she told Lauren she couldn’t come in that would be the end of the hope and excitement she’d experienced over the last few hours.

  “I’d like see you again sometime. If you’d like that, too.”

  “Lauren, I’m—what?”

  “I know you’re busy, and you’ve got the boys. I promised myself I wouldn’t pressure you for anything more than dinner tonight, and I am willing to go as slow as you need to, but I’d love a second date.”

  Her smile stretched her face until her cheeks felt tight. “Yes. I’m not sure when, but I definitely want to do this again.”

  “Really?” Lauren’s smile was more subdued, but her relief seemed sincere. “Wonderful. And thank you, for tonight and for the hope of something more to come.”

  “No, thank you. For so much more than you even know.”

  Lauren leaned close, and Molly’s cheeks grew warm with anticipation. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin, her body seemingly remembering its role now that her mind had cleared. She’d been kissed before, but the gentle brush of Lauren’s lips held nothing familiar. The touch was light and hopeful, soft and gentle. The kiss, like their evening, was sweet and over too soon but ended with a flutter of promise.

  Molly stood still for a long time after Lauren left, simply enjoying the lingering tingle of soft lips on hers.

  When she finally opened the door, still feeling a little dreamy, it took her a few seconds to adjust to the sight of Duke sitting on her couch watching ESPN. She stood up as soon as she heard the door. “Hey, welcome home. How did it go?”

  “Lovely.” Molly felt a smile tugging at her lips again, but she tried to hold it in check. She didn’t want to act like a silly little schoolgirl, even if she felt a little like one.

  “Good,” Duke said, then rubbed her hands together, almost nervously. “She treated you well?”

  “Yes, better than I’ve been treated on a date maybe ever.”

  “Ever? Wow. That’s saying a lot.”

  “Not really,” Molly admitted. “I only ever dated the boys’ father.”

  “And he wasn’t a real Romeo?”

  “No. Not Tony.” She almost snorted as she sank onto the couch. “But he was only a boy at the time. You can hardly blame him.”

  A muscle flexed in Duke’s jaw as she sat down beside her. “I can blame him for not treating you right, Molly.”

  “I blame him for plenty of things, just not his lack of romanticism. We were only in high school, nervous and bumbling, both of us doing what we thought we were supposed to want. It was all so clichéd. I got pregnant with Joe on prom night.”

  She hadn’t told anyone that since she was a teenager, largely because she’d quickly grown tired of their reactions. She couldn’t handle any of them. Not the judgment of the people she’d grown up with, or the pity of the more sympathetic souls she’d met in St. Louis. They offered condolences she didn’t need. She’d never considered that night a mistake. Her defenses stirred at even the prospect of having to explain that, but when she met Duke’s eyes, she saw only rapt attention.

  “Anyway, Tony did the best he could for a long time. We both did, but I didn’t give him much to work with. I’d only slept with him to see what everyone else found so exciting. I never got the appeal.”

  “That’s how you knew you were gay?”

  “Not right away. When we got married, I blamed the stress of the pregnancy. Then came the sleepless nights of new motherhood. I diverted all my attention to Joe. With him I felt all the love and warmth and devotion I didn’t for Tony. I wanted my son to have all the best parts of me.”

  Duke reached for her hand, and surprisingly Molly let her take it. There was no pity there, only affirmation. “You’re an amazing mom.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know I wasn’t a good wife. Even when we settled into our life, I never settled into marriage. Tony didn’t either. We both did the right things for the wrong reasons.”

  “What were those?”

  “He tried to please everyone else. I tried to prove them wrong. I was so stubborn for so long.”

  “What, you? Stubborn?” Duke grinned. “I can’t imagine.”

  Molly rolled her eyes, but she appreciated the way Duke’s gentle humor softened the edges of bitter topics. “His father never liked me. He wanted to mold Tony into something he wasn’t. Instead of seeing that his son wasn’t a chip off the old block, every time Tony’d fail, Anthony blamed me. He thought I held him back. I didn’t support him enough or challenge him enough. I even believed him for a while. I didn’t love Tony the way he deserved, and no matter how hard I tried to convince both of us otherwise, I think he knew all along.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He did his best. He went to work for his dad’s furniture wholesale company. He wore a tie and brought home a paycheck and took Joe to the park on Saturdays. We both went through the motions while his father found fault in everything but Joe. That’s the only thing I ever had in common with the man.”

  “He liked Joe?”

  “Loved him and Charlie, too. Believe me, that’s the only nice thing I can say about Anthony Grettano Senior. He loved his grandsons more than anything. Maybe that’s why he pushed Tony so hard to be a family man. I always thought he saw my sons as his second chance to do better than he’d done with Tony, but maybe he feared losing the boys more than he feared breaking his own son.”

  “What a horrible trade to have to make, for all of you.”

  “We spent years trying to push or please or survive the others, each of us sandbagging our rising discontent, fearing no matter how high we built the walls, they’d never hold out the flood.”

  Duke squeezed her hand and waited quietly, never pushing, never asking for more but never backing away either. She remained steady and open for whatever Molly chose to share. Maybe her openness, her willingness to give all the power away kept Molly going into parts of the story she’d never told anyone.

  “Tony grew more withdrawn. He began to mess up at work, and when he came home, he never touched me. I was relieved, and I’m sure he could tell.”

  Molly shuddered but kept going. “His father came over one night and offered to babysit Joe so we could go out, but I didn’t want to go. A free babysitter for a night out at his expense, and I would’ve rather spent the night with Joe than my husband. Then I realized Anthony was right, I was an awful wife.”

  “Molly, you were young and in a terrible position.”

  “So was Tony, but at least he tried. I felt like I should, too, like I owed it to him, and more importantly to Joe, to make us a family. I put on a dress and went to dinner and smiled at him even when he spilled his wine. I held his hand even when it grew sweaty. I kissed him even though he smelled like garlic. I slept with him even while thinking of our waitress.”

  Duke’s eyebrows shot up. “Your waitress?”

  “Yes, our waitress at dinner was young and blond and beautiful. She had the softest looking hands with long, elegant fingers.” She blushed. “I’d always found women so much more compelling than men, but for the first time I fantasized about her hands on me instead of his. I told him the next morning.”

  “Wow. How did he handle it?”

  “He was relieved. He tried to act sad, but I watched all the weight fall off his shoulders. He wasn’t the problem. I was. Neither one of us had to keep pretending anymore. We made plans to divorce amicably. He didn’t want the apartment or the furniture, nothing. And he promised not to ask for custody of Joe as long as I promised his father visitation. Then he cried. He sobbed like a baby, he was so grateful for his freedom.”

  “What about you?”

  “
I didn’t cry for a month. That’s when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie.”

  “Oh, Molly,” she sighed, then smiled. “The boy does know how to make an entrance. At least it’s fun to know he’s been wrecking well-laid plans from the beginning.”

  Molly laughed, actually laughed about one of the more terrifying times of her life. No one else had ever seen Charlie’s personality so clearly in the events surrounding his birth. “Anthony Senior didn’t see it that way. He’d barely tolerated plans of the divorce before he knew there was another grandson at stake. He spent days screaming at Tony and threatening me with a custody battle. He offered to buy us off, then he cut us off.”

  “But you didn’t fold? Even with a baby on the way?”

  “Tony caved. He begged for another chance. I couldn’t summon even the slightest bit of sympathy for him. His remorse wasn’t about me or our children. He’d merely let his father badger him into submission once again. I felt nothing for him anymore, not respect, not pity, certainly not love. I released him again, and he ran.”

  “Ran to where?”

  Molly shrugged. “I hear from him a couple times a year. Last Christmas he was in Amsterdam, before that, Cabo. I swing wildly from hating him for not wanting anything to do with his boys to feeling overwhelmingly grateful to him for the same reason.”

  “You’re a strong woman. Most people would’ve taken the security, at least until they were in a more stable position.”

  “I didn’t see it as strength then. I wanted my life and my boys all to myself. My resilience was selfish, which is ultimately why I let Anthony back into their lives when Charlie was a few months old. They deserved a chance to have a family even if I feared being hurt again.”

  “That’s generous after everything he’d done to make you miserable.”

  “I kept a tight handle on the terms of their relationship. I wouldn’t accept a penny from him. Not for the house or the child support Tony should’ve paid but didn’t, not for myself at all. I refused to be indebted.” The muscles in her neck tightened at the thought of her final unresolved conflict with her ex-father-in-law. “But over time I softened on what I’d let him do for the boys.”