Love & Light

by Michele Shriver

  “That’s the idea,” she says, her lips curling into a smile. Her next shot misses, though, and she mutters something under her breath as she steps away from the table.

  “Better luck next time,” I say, and I can’t stop the teasing grin that tugs at my lips.

  “My hair got in the way is all,” Kori says. She reaches into the pocket of her jeans and takes out a ponytail holder and uses it to pull her hair back. It gives her a completely different look, and I must be staring at her, because she gives me a funny expression. “What?”

  “Nothing. You just look different with your hair like that,” I say. “Pretty.”

  “So I didn’t look pretty before?” she asks, and I know I messed up. Yeah, my skills with girls could use some work.

  “That’s not what I meant.” I try to do damage control. “You always look pretty, but I can see more of your face and your eyes with your hair pulled back,” I say. “I like it.” I realize I’m flirting, and I wonder if she’s going to close up and withdraw like she sometimes done.

  Instead, she smiles again. “In that case, thanks.”

  I nod. “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s your shot,” she reminds me, and I stop looking at her and study the layout on the table.

  “Three ball, left corner pocket,” I call, then easily sink the shot. I briefly think about backing off and letting Kori have another turn, but my competitive spirit takes over and I make two more shots.

  “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you were good,” Kori says.

  “I gained a table at home when my dad married my stepmom,” I tell her. “I sometimes like to shoot balls around to relax a bit, and we have family tournaments sometimes, like me and my dad against Liz and her daughter.”

  “Sounds nice. Sounds happy.” Her voice takes on that edge again, like she’s mocking happiness, or at least doubting whether she’ll ever experience it again.

  “It gets easier. It gets better,” I say.

  “Whatever.” She shrugs. “If you say so. It’s still your turn.”

  It is, but my competitive edge is gone now, and I miss the shot. Kori takes over and runs the table, but the easy, kind of flirting mood we had at the beginning is gone too. I’d like to get it back, but I don’t know how, so I just say, “Good game.”

  “Thanks,” she says, but it lacks feeling. She may have won the match, but she didn’t enjoy it.

  “Maybe we can do it again sometime,” I say as I place my cue back in the rack on the wall. “And maybe I’ll see you at my game tomorrow. I’d still like you to come.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~Landon~

  It’s a nice day for baseball and I get the start against Keene State. Naturally, my parents are in the stands watching, and they cheer louder than probably anyone else. They’re certainly in the top three of loud parents, anyway. Maybe I should be embarrassed, but I like having the support. It beats having no one come watch me play.

  Today I have someone else watching and cheering me on. Okay, maybe not cheering out loud—or not loudly enough to challenge my parents in any contest—but I like to think Kori’s cheering me on too. Even if she’s doing it silently. After all, she’s not really the loud or exuberant type. She’s here, though, and that means a lot to me.

  It doesn’t escape Jaden’s notice, as he gives me a little ribbing during one of the time outs. “You’re pitching well today, Grayson,” he says. “I guess it helps having your girlfriend here.”

  “I guess,” I say with a shrug, then can’t resist teasing him back a little. “Maybe you need to find yourself a girl so your play can improve.”

  “Oh, funny man. I guess if the majors don’t call, you can always try for a career in stand up,” Jaden says. As usual, he takes the teasing in stride, which is one of the reasons why I’m happy to call him my best friend.

  It’s not until I’m walking back to the mound that I realize what just happened.

  Jaden referred to Kori as my girlfriend, and unlike the other day, I didn’t correct him or try to deny it. As far as my buddy is concerned, I’ve just confirmed that she is my girlfriend, which is pretty silly considering we’ve never even been on a date and every time I start to feel a little more comfortable around Kori and think she’s feeling that way around me, she clams up again. Girlfriend? Yeah, right. Hardly.

  Still, as I take my place on the mound and look out at the bleachers, it’s Kori that I’m focused on. We make eye contact for a second, and then she smiles. At least it looks like a smile, anyway, and gives me confidence. She’s rooting for me, and I can strike this batter out.

  Jaden’s in his catcher’s stance and he gives me the pitch signal. It’s a safe one, and I shake my head. I don’t feel like playing it safe right now. I feel like going for it. He signals a different pitch, a split-finger fastball, and I nod. That’s more like it.

  Strike one!

  Two more follow and that batter’s gone, then a couple more join him as I close out the inning. I’m definitely feeling my mojo now.

  We take the game five to two, and I get a lot of congratulations from my teammates and also our coach. It’s always nice to get a win, especially in front of our own fans, including my family and now Kori.

  After coach is done with his post-game talk, I head over to the stands.

  “Great game, Slugger,” my dad says, using his favorite nickname for me as he gives me a good-natured slap on the back. He’s smiling, and I think about how nice it is to see him happy again.

  “Your fastball is looking really good,” Liz says.

  “Thanks. I’ve been working on it.” The first time I met her, when my dad decided she should come to a Red Sox game with us, I thought she was faking her interest in baseball to try to get in good with my dad and me, but I quickly realized she knows her stuff.

  “Are you hungry?” my dad asks. “We thought we’d take you out to dinner before we head back home.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m always hungry,” I say with a laugh. “I just need to get cleaned up. Oh, and there’s someone I want you to meet,” I add, turning around. “Hey, Kori. Come here for a sec.”

  As soon as I say it, I realize I’ve put her on the spot, which she may not like too much. She doesn’t look angry, though, as she makes her way down three rows to join us.

  “I’m glad you made it,” I say. “I want you to meet my parents. Dad, Mom, this is Kori.”

  ~Kori~

  I figured those were Landon’s parents before he went over to talk to them. They yelled louder than anyone else every time he threw a good pitch, and judging from the crowd response, there were quite a few of those.

  When he immediately headed in their direction after the game, I probably should’ve used that as my excuse to slip away unnoticed. Instead, I hung around, curious to see their interaction. Then when Landon called me down there, I found myself stuck. I couldn’t leave without being rude.

  The first thing I notice when he introduces us is that Landon calls his stepmother ‘Mom.’ I can’t imagine ever doing that if my dad were to get married again. Then again, I guess you don’t know until you’re there.

  “Ben Grayson,” his dad says. “And my wife Liz.”

  “Kori Walsh.” I shake his hand in an attempt to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Stepmom says, and I notice she’s all decked out in our school colors of green and black. “So how long—” she starts to ask, and I figure it’s the inevitable question of how long we’ve been dating. I even envision a matchmaker glint in her eyes, but she’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t tell for sure. The question is cut off, though, when Landon shakes his head.

  I give him a grateful glance. He may have put me on the spot by summoning me to meet them, but he saved me a little there.

  “Kori and I have a class together,” he says, “and I’m trying to turn her into a baseball fan.”

  “I’ve been watching practices,” I explain. “This was my first game. I enjoyed
it.” I’m not sure whether I say that more for Landon’s benefit or theirs. It’s true, though. The game was probably the most fun I’ve had in a while. Granted, that bar’s set pretty low, but still... I didn’t hate the afternoon.

  “Baseball is big in our family,” Landon’s dad says, and I nod.

  “Yeah, Landon’s told me. It’s cool that you come to his games.”

  “We wouldn’t miss them,” the stepmother says. “We’re about to take Landon out for dinner. Why don’t you join us?” she asks, and I envision the matchmaker glint again.

  “Are you sure?” I’m torn on how to respond. If I say ‘no,’ does that seem rude? But if I accept, am I making Landon uncomfortable? I look at him, silently asking for a little guidance.

  After a few seconds, he shrugs. “Yeah, come along, Kori,” he says. “If you don’t have other plans, that is.”

  He’s giving me an out, and I debate whether to take it, but the only ‘other plans’ I have would involve eating by myself in the dining hall followed by sitting by myself in my dorm room. It suddenly sounds depressing to me, and I find myself craving something a little more sociable and normal. “No other plans,” I say. “I’d be happy to join you. I do need to go back to the dorm first, though, so can I meet you at the restaurant?”

  I wonder if it’s obvious to Landon what I’m doing—giving myself an ‘out’ if things get uncomfortable. I’m not stuck waiting for anyone else. I can make my own exit and leave.

  “Sure thing,” is all he says. “We’ll meet you at the Lucky Dog.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~Kori~

  Since I made the excuse about going back to my room first in order to be able to drive myself to the restaurant, I decide to take a few minutes and change clothes. I tell myself it’s stupid, that this isn’t a date. Even though Landon insists Amanda isn’t really his girlfriend, I’m sure she’s much more his type than I am.

  Nonetheless, I change out of my Plymouth State sweatshirt into a white button down shirt paired with a red sweater. I remember what Landon told me about looking pretty with my hair back, so I pull it back into a simple ponytail. I’m about ready to leave when I stop and do something I haven’t done in a long time. I put makeup on. Okay, it’s not much, just a little eye shadow and some lip gloss, but it’s more than I usually do.

  The Lucky Dog Tavern and Grill isn’t far from campus, and when I get there, I find that Landon’s already seated in one of the wooden booths with his family. “Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say, as I slide in next to him.

  “You changed,” he observes.

  I shrug. “Yeah. Just felt like it.” I don’t want him to know that I actually fussed over my appearance. “So did you.” He’s wearing dark blue jeans now, paired with a striped shirt that’s untucked and the sleeves rolled up.

  “I kind of had to,” he says with a grin. “Nobody would want to sit beside me in my sweaty baseball gear.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” I say, laughing a little as I reach for one of the menus on the table.

  “We thought we’d get some potato skins to start,” Landon’s stepmother says. “If that sounds okay to you?”

  I nod. “Sure. Sounds great. Thanks again for inviting me.”

  “It’s our pleasure,” Landon’s dad says. “It’s always nice to meet Landon’s friends.”

  There’s something about the way he says it, with a hint of a smile, that makes me wonder if there have been other female friends of Landon that they’ve met and what he might be thinking about me and my friendship with his son.

  A waitress comes by to take our order, and I decide to try something called the Psycho Chicken sandwich, which doesn’t sound all that crazy to me—just a chicken sandwich that I order with the Cajun seasoning—but it’s a clever name, at least.

  So is the Brontosaurus burger that Landon orders. “Have you ever been here before?” he asks me once everyone has ordered and it’s just the four of us again.

  I shake my head. “No.” It probably sounds strange, considering it’s a popular campus hangout, but it’s not like I go out much. I’m guessing Landon figured that out and that’s why he asked.

  “I think you’ll like it,” he says.

  “It’s become our favorite place whenever we’re in Plymouth,” his stepmother tells me. “The food is good, and being a baseball family, we like the story behind the name.”

  I’m not familiar with the story, but they’re all ready to fill me in, sometimes talking over each other as they explain about an old sporting goods company called Draper & Maynard and Babe Ruth’s remark to a young rookie with a D&M glove that he had ‘the lucky dog kind.’ A salesman overheard the remark and copyrighted the slogan for the company.

  The food arrives as they’re telling me the story, and I dig into the potato skins. “Fun story,” I say.

  “Babe Ruth even came up to Plymouth to have his gloves made,” Landon tells me.

  “That’s pretty cool,” I say, and I mean it. I may not be a baseball fan, or know much about the sport, but I have at least heard of Babe Ruth.

  “The art department on campus is actually the old D&M factory building,” Landon’s stepmom says, then adds, “My daughter and her husband are both artists, and they filled me on that little tidbit.”

  “Did they go to school here?” I ask.

  Landon shakes his head. “No. They went to school in Boston, but they’ve turned into PSU fans now too.”

  “That’s cool.” I take a bite of the Psycho chicken, which is a little spicy, but good, as the conversation continues around me. It isn’t hard to figure out what bonds this family together. I’ve known Landon a week and his parents for maybe an hour, and it’s obvious they share a love of sports and food.

  I’m happy to just sit here and listen while I eat, not contributing anything to the conversation, but eventually the inevitable happens. They want to know more about me. The question is harmless enough, a simple “What’s your family like, Kori?” from Landon’s stepmother, but no discussion of my family is harmless these days. All of it hurts.

  “My father’s a contractor. He has his own business,” I say. “I have a younger brother named Noah who plays video games.” That’s all nice and normal enough, at least. I reach for my soda and take a slurp from the straw. “And my mother died from a brain tumor last June.”

  Naturally, that puts an end to the light and casual conversation.

  Landon’s dad breaks the silence first, with an “Oh, wow,” as he reaches for his beer. At least he didn’t say he was sorry.

  “I’m sure that’s difficult for you,” Stepmother offers, in the ‘well, duh’ moment of the evening, then she has to follow it up with, “If you need someone to talk to...”

  I know she means well. She seems pretty nice. But the last thing I want to hear from anyone is another suggestion that I talk to someone. I’m so damn sick of that suggestion, especially coming from a psychologist.

  I whirl my head around to face Landon. “Is that what you were hoping for? Get me in for a free therapy session with the family shrink?” I know I’m not being fair, but I can’t help it.

  “What?” His eyes widen. “No. I just wanted to have dinner. Chill, Kori.”

  “Chill?” I repeat. “I’m glad it’s all so easy for you, but maybe I’m not ready to ‘chill’ as you put it.” I stand up and fish some money out of my purse, tossing a twenty on the table. “I should go. It was nice to meet you, but this is all a little too much for me right now.”

  I head for the door, with Landon chasing after me. “Kori, wait,” he says. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Just come back to the table, please.”

  I should. Part of me wants to. I like him and I like his family and I don’t want to seem like a freak. It’s hard, though. Everything’s just fucking hard. I shake my head. “No. Enjoy the night with your family. I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

  ~Landon~

  Since I know running after her won’t do any
good, I let Kori leave and head back to our table by myself.

  “I’m so sorry,” Liz says. “I obviously said the wrong thing. I should know better...”

  I hold up my hand. I don’t want her blaming herself. “It’s fine. I’m the one who said the wrong thing. If anyone should know better, it’s me.” I let out a sigh. “I’m hopeless with women.”

  That makes my dad laugh. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Slugger. You’re only nineteen, and women can be a confusing species,” he says with a sideways glance at Liz. “Case in point.”

  She jabs him playfully in the arm. “Yeah, your dad’s still trying to figure me out.”

  It’s seeing this, how happy and comfortable they are with each other, that helped me come to grips with my dad’s new relationship after my mom died. I guess I stupidly thought that meeting them, and seeing them together, would help Kori see that life still went on even after losing someone you loved.

  “Kori’s having a rough time without her mom,” I say. “And I’m trying to help her, but I’m not sure I’m making any progress getting through.”

  “So how important is this girl to you?” my dad wants to know. “Are you seeing each other?”

  I’m quick to shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I barely know her. We’re just friends.”

  “Are you interested in more?” he asks.

  I contemplate that as I dip one of my remaining french fries in ketchup. “I don’t know. I think I might be.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted it, even to myself. “It’s weird,” I say. “I mean, I’m an athlete. I have girls who are after me, you know? They don’t exactly play hard to get.” I don’t elaborate, figuring my parents don’t need the details. “Then there’s Kori... every time I feel I’m starting to get somewhere with her, she closes up or I scare her off. She just has these walls around her.”

  “Because she’s hurting,” Liz says. “But if you care about her, if you want to know her better, don’t let those walls stop you. Kori probably wants to have fun again, but she’s struggling a little bit with how. Does that make sense?”