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Stephanie awakened to the doorbell ringing and knocks on the front door, just before her alarm was set to go off. She ignored it at first, not really awake, but the second knocks were louder and the ringing more persistent. Stephanie pulled herself out of the daze of sleep and went to see who it was. When she entered the foyer, she saw her mother and PJ through the beveled glass in the door. She opened the door and then turned without speaking, heading for the kitchen. The two women followed her.
Her mother spoke first. “I hear you’ve taken some time off.”
“Good Lord, don’t people have anything to do, but get in my business?”
“You are my business,” her mother said.
“Sorry, Mom. It’s been a long day.”
PJ pointed at Stephanie’s hair. “Looks like you took a nap. That’s good. I’m sure you needed the rest.”
Stephanie stopped at the refrigerator door and saw her reflection in the stainless steel. Her hair was smashed flat on one side, pushed up about three inches, forming half of the McDonald’s arches. She snatched the door open and pulled out a pitcher of sweetened tea.
“Here, let me pour the tea,” her mother said, taking the pitcher from Stephanie. “You all go on and sit down. I’ll bring it to you.”
PJ followed Stephanie back to the den. “I talked to Mo today. She was pretty upset about you seeing Molly. She’s afraid, I mean really afraid.”
“She should be,” Stephanie snapped.
“Oooo, girl got some attitude today,” PJ said, backing away in mock fear.
“It’s been quite an uplifting experience not to be the cheerleader in the room,” Stephanie said.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Get righteous.”
Debra Austin entered the den as if she was serving afternoon tea in the garden, all smiles, and politeness. She was Stephanie’s role model, the perfect wife, and mother. Stephanie clenched her jaw and tried to hold the words back, but they spewed out.
“How could you not tell me my father cheated on you? How could you act like nothing ever happened?”
PJ put her hand up, her once smiling face slackened to a frown. “Damn girl, I said righteous, not hateful.”
Debra smiled. “It’s quite all right, PJ. It’s a legitimate question.” She handed Stephanie a glass of tea. “Here, drink this. It’ll cool you down a peg.”
Stephanie fell back against the couch, pouting. She knew she was doing it, but it felt good. Maybe that’s why kids rolled their lips out and sulked for hours in front of anyone that would watch. The outward expression of enormous disappointment Stephanie felt cleansed her soul somehow. There was no doubt and no words necessary for the people in the room to understand, “Hell yes, I’m mad! I’m pissed, I’m hurt, and I just want to wallow in my misery, thank you!”
“You had that same look on your face when I said you could not go to the Bahamas for spring break, at barely seventeen. What sane adult would volunteer to take a group of teenagers to a tropical island?”
Stephanie recalled being left out when all her friends went on the trip. She brooded the entire break and for some time afterward.
“I remember, you ignored my distress and acted as if nothing was wrong. I eventually moved on to something new and we never spoke of it again. Was that the key to how you got by, Mom? Just pretend it isn’t there and it will go away.”
PJ stood up. “I think I’ll go outside and let you have some privacy.”
Debra waved PJ back down on the couch. “No, stay. What I’m about to say might benefit you, one day.” She turned back to her daughter. “Stephanie, there was no need to discuss our decision to keep you home. It was a done deal. The trip was already happening while you moped around the house. Had I given into your teenage lament, we would have spent hours with you in tears and me trying to make you understand that we could not let a child your age go to another country with a gaggle of teenagers. You’re a mother now. You know exactly how futile that would have been. Life’s too short to waste on things that just don’t matter anymore. You figured it out and moved on.”
Stephanie stiffened. “Is that how you handled the affair? Just moved on?”
Debra’s voice dropped to a less accommodating tone. “Okay, we’ll have this conversation, but only once, so listen up. You think less of me, because I didn’t throw a big fit and involve the kids in the mess your father and I made. And yes, we made that mess together.”
Stephanie tried to say, “I didn’t -”
Her mother raised her hand for silence. “You wanted to know, so here it is. Judge me if you want to. I did what I thought was best for all of us.”
Stephanie sank further back into the couch, as her mother continued.
“You don’t pick who you fall in love with, it just happens to you. I fell in love with your father and he with me over a spilled glass of milk. I know you’ve heard this story, but PJ hasn’t. I was in a little drugstore downtown, working the lunch counter after school. I was delivering a glass of milk to a table and ran into Stephanie’s father. The milk went everywhere, but he caught the glass. I was so impressed, I fell for him on the spot.”
“That’s so sweet.” PJ said.
“We got married while he was in college, just after I graduated high school. Those first few years were very hard, but we had so much fun with nothing, I wonder why we need so much now? He got his degree and went to work, providing for his family. I stayed home and had babies. That was our life, work and family. Somewhere in there we both got lost in our own little worlds, his at work and mine at home. We were happy, but it wasn’t fun anymore. That’s when it happened.”
Stephanie sat up, incredulous. “So you blame yourself for not keeping him entertained?”
“I blamed myself for not knowing something was wrong. Don’t misunderstand, there were plenty of angry words and tears, but when I got beyond the hurt I felt, I could see his pain, too. We hurt each other, but we couldn’t stop loving each other. As hard as I tried, I could not imagine my life without him. I forgave him, slowly, but I forgave him. To have continued to drag out the fighting, let it escalate, grow a life of its own, would have been fatal to our marriage. Rehashing and bringing up old hurts just sucks the life out of things. It was spilled milk. We wiped it up before it stained and moved on.”
Stephanie sat very still, but her mind was racing, searching her mother’s eyes for the answer. Debra saw the question, sensing what her daughter wanted to know.
“Honey, nobody can tell you what to do. It’s all up to you, what you can sit with, and what you can’t. What I will tell you is this, if you stay in this marriage, you have to let go of the hurt and anger. It will eat you from the inside out and all of it will have been wasted time, best spent elsewhere, for everyone concerned.”
“Amen to that,” PJ said, quietly.
“It would help if I wasn’t thinking about it all the time.” Stephanie was still irritated, but she was cooling down. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on you.”
The warmth returned to Debra’s voice. “You’re just venting. Better me than some unsuspecting stranger at the drive-thru.”
PJ looked at her watch. “You better get moving, unless you’re wearing a ball cap. That’s what we call bed hair, not your best look.”
Stephanie twirled a lock of her shoulder length hair between two fingers. “I’m thinking about cutting it off. What do you think?”
“I think that would be a good start,” her mother answered.
“Go ahead, Steph,” PJ said. “Changing your hair can change your attitude.”
Stephanie looked at the three inch tall, Grace Jones like, boxed hair on PJ’s head, and smiled.
“Yes, PJ, I think it’s time for a change of attitude.”
#
Stephanie tried to brush her hair into shape, but it was no use. She pulled it back into a short ponytail and stuck one of Colt’s spare team caps on her head. She wore shorts and a team logo tee shirt, and large dark sunglas
ses. Stephanie wanted to be comfortable and invisible. She was in no mood for girl-talk. She just wanted to watch her son pitch a game of baseball. Stephanie realized this was going to be impossible almost immediately upon sitting down.
Randy was waiting by the stands when Stephanie arrived with her mother and PJ in tow. Stephanie stopped to talk to Colt at the fence, while the others found seats.
“How are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Remember to stay hydrated and keep your arm warm.”
Colt looped his fingers through the fence and grinned. “I got this, Mom.”
“Okay, just checking,” Stephanie said, looping a finger through one of his. “You’ll be great. Everybody’s here.”
“Mo called,” Colt commented. “She said all the same stuff.”
“Good, I’m glad you were able to talk to her.”
Colt had to go when the coach called the team together. He jogged backwards away from her, grinning. “Take some pictures and send them to her. Coach won’t let us have our phones out.”
Stephanie smiled and waved. “I will. Have fun!”
When Stephanie joined the others in the stands, she was left sitting on the open end of the group, next to PJ. Randy was at the other end of the row. Her mother was sandwiched between Randy and PJ. On Stephanie’s right were a couple of empty spaces before the aisle. In the next section over sat “the mothers.” Stephanie and Mo supported Colt in his athletic endeavors, but they were not fanatical about it. Their hopes and dreams for Colt did not hinge on his prowess on the field. “The mothers” were the ones who knew everyone’s batting average and most definitely had an opinion on which boys “deserved” to play. They took being supportive to the next level. While appearing mild mannered and caring, these women could turn into a pack of wolves if things went against their sons on the field. There were also “the fathers,” but they tended to band together down by the fence. Stephanie was one of “the other mothers and fathers,” the ones who cheered for everyone and were proud, win or lose. They were scattered around the stands, distancing themselves from “the mothers and fathers.” All except Stephanie, whom her family had left woefully exposed.
Stephanie was glad when Marlene, Trevor’s mom, sat down beside her. Marlene had too many sons in too many sports to invest as much energy in their games as “the mothers” did. Colt and Trevor were the youngest players on this All-Star team. They came as a set, Colt the pitcher and Trevor the catcher. They were best friends, since meeting at age nine in little league, and a match made in baseball heaven. Colt never tired of pitching and Trevor never tired of catching. Colt took the mound and the two proud mothers watched their sons warm up. No one spoke. The steady pop in Trevor’s glove grew crisper, as Colt began to bear down. After one particularly loud pop, Colt smiled and looked in the stands for his extended family. They all waved back.
Randy even got in touch with his old ball playing butch days and shouted, “Atta boy, Colt!”
“He looks really good tonight,” Marlene said. “You wouldn’t know he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”
Stephanie turned to face Marlene. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
Whispering conspiratorially, Marlene said, “Colt told Trevor you and Mo were splitting up. I guess I can tell you now, I’ve always been jealous.”
Evidently, Marlene hadn’t whispered softly enough. PJ let out a giggle and covered it with a cough.
Stephanie responded to Marlene’s prying with, “He told Trevor what, exactly?”
Marlene looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening. “Trevor said that Colt said you and Mo had a huge fight. Dishes were broken, and Mo sent lots of flowers. He even said there was blood on the walls, but that it was probably from the prime rib you threw.”
“And from that you got we are splitting up. Marlene, you know how dramatic teenage boys can be.”
“Well, like I said, I was always so jealous of how you two got along. I never imagined you ever had a fight. From the sounds of what happened that was no small disagreement. That usually means money or a woman. My bet is a woman. Someone like Mo - out in LA - all alone. I’m just sayin’.”
“What do you mean, someone like Mo?” Stephanie had gone beyond disbelief at Marlene’s intrusion into her personal life. She now wanted to know what Marlene knew.
“You know,” Marlene said, punching Stephanie lightly in the thigh. “She’s Mo. She’s attractive and funny. I’m sure she has to fight the women off.”
PJ started having a coughing fit and the umpire yelled, “Play ball,” saving Stephanie for the moment. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to Marlene’s thinly veiled attraction to Mo. Colt threw two balls out of the strike zone, before he settled down and struck out the first two batters. The third batter flew out to centerfield. Colt let that pitch get too high in the strike zone. He shook his head coming off the mound, before Trevor greeted him with a slap on the back. His worried look faded and Colt disappeared into the dugout.
Marlene jumped right back into the conversation, as if no time had gone by. “I know how difficult these things can be, not that I’ve experienced it myself.”
Stephanie didn’t believe that for a minute, but she kept her eyes focused on the end of the dugout. It worked and Marlene stood to go.
“Well, if you need anything, just let me know. That goes for Mo, as well. You’re both my friends.”
Stephanie managed to smile at Marlene and say, “Thank you, I’ll be sure to tell her.”
Marlene was just too dumb to walk away. “She has my number. We used to talk all the time - about the boys, you know.”
The daggers Stephanie shot with her eyes were hidden behind her oversized sunglasses. Her smile belied her true feelings, which were to come right out and ask Marlene if she was looking to get Mo in bed, now that she was free of the wife.
Instead, she said, “I’m glad Colt has someone to confide in, like Trevor, but really, we have not split up. I hope you’ll help by not letting this misunderstanding go any further.”
Marlene looked over her shoulder toward “the mothers,” saying, “Too late. Jordan knows and she was sitting with Wyatt’s mother. We all know what a rumormonger she is.”
Stephanie was thinking the same thing about Marlene. PJ finally came to the rescue.
She pointed at her throat and said, in a dry whisper, “I think I swallowed a bug.” Cough - cough. “Need water.”
“Excuse us, Marlene. I need to help PJ find some water.”
Stephanie was up, pulling PJ along, before she finished her sentence. Colt was fifth up to bat so they had time to get back before he hit, if they even made it that far down the batting order. The guy throwing against them was the best in the league. Colt had never had so much as a base hit off the guy. Stephanie nearly pulled PJ down the steps, not stopping until they were behind the stands, where she began to pace.
“Can you believe the nerve of that woman? She practically drooled over the prospects of a single Mo.”
PJ was laughing, even after the harrowing descent she’d just been through. “Lord, girl, if you don’t take Mo back, she’ll be hounded by Marlene. You have to save her.”
“Why should I save Mo?” Stephanie asked. “I didn’t do anything and I’m here fending off the rumor mill, while she’s out doing God knows what in LA.”
“She has no idea what she’s missing,” PJ said, still laughing. “The look on your face was priceless." She mimicked Stephanie, “Thank you, I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“Shut up, you,” Stephanie said. “You were absolutely no help.”
“I got you out of there, didn’t I?”
Stephanie smiled. “Yes, you did.”
The crack of the bat on the ball drew their attention to the field. From what they could see through the legs in the stands, Trevor was safe at first base.
Stephanie rushed PJ. “Let’s get you that water and get back. Colt might make it up to bat.”
Luckily, there was a s
hort line at the concession stand. Stephanie and PJ made it back to their seats in time to see Wyatt take his third strike, much to his mother’s displeasure.
She screamed, “Are you blind? That was down around his ankles. How much did his daddy pay you to make that call?”
Stephanie shook her head. Wyatt did not argue the umpire’s call. He walked slowly back to the dugout, while the rest of his team took the field. Stephanie was sure his mother's behavior embarrassed him. God help the child with the overzealous parent in the stands. One of the coaches put his arm around Wyatt and must have said something funny. Wyatt beamed and hustled for his glove. At least some of the adults involved had things in perspective. Stephanie was pondering this when Geri Lee sat down beside her.
“Hey, Steph. Colt looks good tonight.”
Geri Lee Strand was a very pretty woman. She had long brown hair and green eyes. Tall and thin, Geri Lee turned heads. That apparently was the problem in her marriage. Marlene, the infinite fountain of gossip, told Stephanie and Mo that Geri Lee and her husband were swingers, but Geri Lee liked it a bit more than her husband. It caused their recent separation and impending divorce.
Stephanie nodded, but didn’t take her eyes off Colt as he warmed up. “Yes, he does.”
Geri Lee leaned in so her shoulder was touching Stephanie’s. In a hushed voice she said, “I heard about you and Mo. I would have thrown a chair through the dining room window, too. I’m not surprised there was blood shed. Of all things for Mo to do, I would never have imagined she’d sleep with a man.”
Geri Lee had been leaning a bit too heavily into her conversation. Stephanie nearly toppled the woman, when she sat back quickly in astonishment.
Tension clearly rising in her voice, Stephanie asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I know it’s hard to take it all in, I mean, unless you had some agreement that you could see other people.”
Stephanie cut Geri Lee off. “I don’t know what you think you know, but none of it is true. I did not throw a chair through a window and Mo did not sleep with a man.”
Geri Lee looked surprised. “Oh, I must have misunderstood. I was told you threw her out and she moved to LA to live with this guy. So does that mean my coming to ask you to coffee at my house,” she paused and batted her eyelashes, “was a lost cause? You’re still not available, I take it?”
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