by Julie Blair
“Real pitching to real batters.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“I haven’t pitched in—” Jamie stopped. She did want to know if she could still do it. “All right,” she said, catching the ball Penni tossed to her as they trotted back to the field. Penni squatted behind home plate and held up her glove.
Jamie spun the ball until she had her grip right on the seams. Fastball. She pumped her arms over her head and then whipped her right arm around her body as she pushed off the mound. The ball hit Penni’s glove with a satisfying crack. Her teammates clapped, and Lori picked up a bat and headed toward home plate. Penni gave her their old signal for a rise. Jamie adjusted her fingers along the seams and went into her windup. Lori swung and missed, and Penni bounced up from behind the plate.
“Wow.” Jamie looked at her hand. “Did that rise a bit?”
“Yep. You’ve still got it.” Penni threw the ball back to her.
Lori dug her feet in and pointed her bat at Jamie. “Do that again.”
Jamie tried not to smile when Penni gave the signal for the changeup. She dug her fingertips into the seams, palmed the ball, and went into her windup again. The trick to throwing an effective change was keeping your motion the same so they expected a fastball. By the time the ball floated lazily into Penni’s glove, Lori had already finished her swing.
“Yes!” Penni danced around home plate in a victory dance, and Lori laughed, shaking her head as she handed the bat to someone else.
Everyone wanted a turn, and Jamie kept throwing pitches as they all shared softball stories. Was there anything better than the camaraderie of a team?
“Maybe I will play with you,” Jamie said, as she caught the bottle of water Penni tossed to her, guzzling half, then dumping the rest down her back. “Time flies when I’m playing softball. Sorry I was a little grumpy earlier.”
“Grumpy is allowed. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I just don’t want it to drag you under.” Penni tossed her glove near a bat bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Team roster for fall league. Sign,” she said, handing Jamie a pen.
Jamie couldn’t stop smiling as they walked back to Penni’s truck. Her stomach growled, her shoulder hurt, and both her knees were grass-stained.
“Hey,” she said, as Penni unlocked the car door for her.
“What?”
“I’m still a pitcher.”
Penni ruffled her hair, and Jamie thanked the fates that had brought them together all those years ago. Maybe Penni was right—it’s never too late to get back to the things you love. Jamie looked back at the diamond, now mostly in shadow. Some of the best times of her life had taken place on a softball diamond. Yeah, she could get out early one night a week to play on Penni’s team.
*
“So, our usual place?” Penni asked as she drove away from the park.
“Do you even have to ask? Is Lori gonna meet us there?”
“Nope. She’s going out for Indian food with her sister.”
“Do you want to go there instead?”
“Nah.” Penni pulled the visor down. “We need a little breathing space.”
“You guys are okay, aren’t you?”
“Of course. We’re just having one of those weeks where we’re on each other’s nerves about stupid stuff like who empties the dishwasher and who stops at the store on the way home. I’ll do some bitching to you and she’ll complain to Janet. Whoever gets home first will light candles and put on romantic music, and we’ll laugh and talk and make love.”
“You have the best relationship I’ve seen, other than my parents’.”
“You could have one, too.” Penni’s voice had its usual sarcasm.
Jamie ignored the comment as she watched a woman running with two little white dogs trying to keep pace with her, their legs pumping furiously. She wanted to laugh but then realized she knew how they felt—running as fast as she could and barely able to keep up. She moved her shoulders around to try to loosen the tension that was creeping back as she pictured that stack of files on her desk. “I can’t play,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Not with—”
“Don’t go there,” Penni said, tapping Jamie on the side of her head. “Let it go for tonight. That clinic’s going to be the death of you.”
“I couldn’t live with myself if I let my father down. The clinic meant everything to him.”
“You’ll get through this. Justice will prevail, as they say. But maybe it’s time to decide what the clinic means to you. Hear me out,” Penni said, when Jamie started to protest. “You never wanted a practice that big. You wanted time for softball and—”
“That was twenty years ago. We all have to grow up.” Jamie lowered her window and rested her arm on the edge.
“I grew up, but I didn’t give up everything that mattered to me.”
“I have responsibilities I can’t walk away from. It’s too late to—”
“You don’t have to walk away, and it’s never too late for the things that make you happy. You have some funny ideas about responsibility. It isn’t something you decide once and then stick to like you’re chained to it. Take Carla, for example.”
“How so?”
“She’s not continuing in a marriage she chose twenty years ago out of a blind sense of responsibility. Now she’s in a different place and choosing new directions for her life.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Jamie mumbled. She fiddled with the laces on her glove. She needed a new one but couldn’t bear to part with all the nostalgia rubbed into this one. “Do you think hiring Carla was a good idea? I mean, with all our history?” She stroked her fingers over the well-worn leather. Joan Joyce’s autograph was almost gone. Taking a pitching clinic with her was a day she’d never forget. She’d once thought softball would be her life.
“It was a great decision.”
“Do you think it’s okay for me to be friends with Carla?”
“It’s more than okay.”
“But we’re ex-lovers.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Penni said, poking Jamie’s shoulder with her fist. “That’s the lesbian way.”
“I’m supposed to go running with her and Sara on Sunday.” Would Carla still want to be friends if she and the attorney became a couple?
“Good. Sheryl does stuff all the time without you. You should have your own friends, too.”
Jamie rubbed her face. Her hands smelled like grass and dirt and leather. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to be a smart-ass?” Penni nodded, and Jamie told her about Carla’s run-ins with Sheryl. “I can’t tell Sheryl. But I can’t fire Carla. I don’t know if I can get this embezzlement mess sorted out without her.” Why wasn’t life as clear-cut as softball?
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Jamie looked at her. Why wasn’t she launching into her usual diatribe against Sheryl?
“Sheryl hasn’t come to the office in what—”
“About a year.”
“And Carla’s daughter’s out of high school. I don’t see how the two would ever meet.”
“You don’t think it’s wrong I’m not being honest with Sheryl?”
“Oh, please. Carla’s good for your business, and like you’ve said, the faster you get your business problems worked out, the faster Sheryl won’t have a reason to be mad at you.”
Jamie stuffed a softball in the web of the glove and set it on the seat next to her. “And my father would say I was doing the right thing.” Jamie’s shoulders relaxed again. When all this business mess was over she’d decide what to do about Carla. Her heart skipped a beat when she tried to picture her office without Carla.
“Did Sheryl really hassle those girls?”
“Her version and Carla’s are a little different.” Jamie lowered her sunglasses from her head as sunlight blinded her.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Jamie—”
“I don’t kno
w what it feels like to be in Sheryl’s shoes, and neither do you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe getting passed over for this promotion is political.” Penni pulled into a parking space and braked hard. “What?” Penni’s eyes pinned her in a hard stare.
“And maybe it’s because Sheryl’s bossy, egotistical, and not a team player. This isn’t about her getting or not getting that promotion. It’s about where her priorities are. Giving gay kids a hard time is just wrong.”
“Supporting her is the right thing. Every relationship has challenges.”
“Challenges are like chisels—they work on the cracks in a relationship. When Lori and I feel that fracture, we get tighter and mend it. When you and Sheryl have challenges—”
“We’re just a little out of sync.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” Penni was quiet for a minute and then added in a softer voice, “Aren’t you tired of trying so hard and getting nothing back?”
“You don’t throw away ten years because things are a little rocky.”
“God, I wish I hadn’t invited her to that Thanksgiving dinner. If I’d known she was going to pursue you—”
“It’s a good thing she did,” Jamie said. “It’s been a great ten years.”
“For Sheryl. You were a great catch for her. You support her financially.”
“I can afford it.”
“You take care of the house.”
“I like to.”
“You pay for the vacations.”
“What’s your point, Penni?”
“I’m just saying, don’t you want a partner who supports you?”
Jamie shouldered the car door open and strode toward the restaurant. Why did Penni always pick on Sheryl?
Penni caught up and draped her arm over her shoulder. “I love you even if I don’t like your partner.”
Jamie put her arm around Penni’s waist. Best friends meant everything and she knew Penni would always be there for her.
*
Jamie’s spirits lifted when she saw Sheryl’s car in the garage. She was home early from her dinner. A shower, music, some candles.
“For you.” Jamie handed Sheryl a bouquet of flowers as she sat down next to her on the bed. “I know how much you love lilies.”
“Thanks. That was sweet.”
Jamie straightened the collar on Sheryl’s blouse and stroked the backs of her fingers along the exposed skin. She leaned forward for a kiss, but Sheryl pushed against her chest.
“You smell sweaty, Jamie, and why are you dressed like that?”
“I played softball.” Jamie grinned. “I even pitched. You never saw me in my glory days, babe. I was good.” Jamie stood and went through her windup, almost slipping on a sock as she strode forward. She rubbed her right shoulder—sore, but a good sore.
“I thought you were working late.”
“I had dinner with Penni. She surprised me by asking me to play in a practice game.”
“Do you really have time for all that?” Sheryl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. New highlights.
“I took a night off. I’d have invited you to join us, but you don’t like sports and don’t eat pizza any more.” Why couldn’t Sheryl be happy for her?
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” Sheryl’s eyes filled with tears.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared about the promotion. I thought it was mine, and now I’m going to get screwed again because those boys want to flaunt their relationship. This gay-rights nonsense.” Sheryl shook her head. “I have to find a way to appease—”
“Sheryl. You’re gay. Can’t you stand up for that?”
“I don’t have that luxury. The district is a lot more conservative on the inside than it looks to the public. The president of my PTA is too powerful for me to go against, and the superintendent doesn’t like controversy.”
“You know I want you to get that promotion, but if you’d been my girlfriend in high school I’d have wanted to hold your hand and kiss you.” Jamie rubbed her thumbs over the backs of Sheryl’s hands. “And I’d have expected the principal to uphold my rights.”
“I see.” Sheryl yanked her hands away. “I thought you supported me.”
“I do. You’re smart and hardworking—”
“But out and proud is more important. I thought you’d outgrow that, Jamie.”
“I don’t want to outgrow standing up for who I am. This is who you fell in love with.”
“And maybe I’d rather have my promotion than out and proud. What difference does it make? I can be a lesbian without waving the rainbow flag.” Sheryl’s cheeks were red with anger.
“But you sell yourself out, and you send the message to those kids that there’s something wrong with them. And how am I supposed to interpret the fact that you’re afraid to hold my hand or kiss me in public?” Jamie tried to control her anger. She wanted romance, not an argument.
“I’ve never believed in making out in public, and you said you were fine with it.” Sheryl’s voice was white fury, but tears ran down her cheeks. “You want a public display? Is that what love is to you? Fine. Why don’t you come to my school and we’ll parade around campus holding hands and making out and really show them what out and proud is. I’ll stand up for gay rights and watch years of hard work go down the drain.”
“I know you’re in a tough spot—”
“You have no idea. I want this so much.”
“And you’ll get it. Look, when things get tough, we need to pull together.” Penni’s words came back to her—we pull together in the face of challenges.
Sheryl stiffened. “More time.” Sheryl folded her arms. “You always complain about us when you’ve been around Penni.”
“Can you leave her out of this? I don’t want to argue. I want us to be close.” Jamie took Sheryl’s hands again and kissed her palms.
“I’m not in the mood.”
Jamie dropped Sheryl’s hands and stood up. When was the last time she’d been in the mood? “I’m gonna shower and then sit in the hot tub. Join me if you want.” Jamie stalked to the closet. Stripping off her clothes, she tossed them in a pile on the floor. What was one more mess?
Loneliness trailed Jamie to the patio. She heard Sheryl in her office, typing. She lit several candles and set them on the edge of the hot tub. The water enveloped her and the jets pounded her back, vibrating her whole body. She thought of Penni and Lori, romancing their way back to connection. She started to get out of the tub. Maybe she could talk Sheryl into—She sat back down and closed her eyes. Not tonight.
Sheryl wasn’t in bed when she walked into the bedroom. Wrapping the towel around her waist, Jamie checked the office. Not there but she’d left the desk light on as usual. Reaching across to turn it off, the desk jiggled and Sheryl’s computer screen came on. She moved the mouse over the icon to close her e-mail. The short message puzzled her. “Me, too. Looking forward to spending the day with you. We have a lot to talk about.” It was from a Dennis at a Yahoo address. Was that the principal she was working on the project with? She knew few of Sheryl’s friends any more. How had they drifted apart?
The door to the guest room was closed and no light seeped under it. She gripped the doorknob and pressed her forehead against the door, willing Sheryl to open it, pull her inside, curl up with her, reconnect. She waited, then waited some more. Finally she went back to the bedroom and closed the door.
Chapter Twenty-four
Carla found a parking spot half a block from the restaurant that looked like it would be at home on a Greek hillside—bright white with large windows thrown open to the warm fall evening. Date. Her heart skipped a beat, and nervousness gathered in the pit of her stomach. What would they talk about? What if Vanessa tried to kiss her? What if she wanted to go back to her place? Her phone rang—Lissa’s ring—and her tumbling thoughts stopped. Lowering the volume on one of her favorite Melissa songs, she said, “Hi, sweetie. What’s up?”
“I aced my calculus exam and Steph w
on her game.”
“That’s worth celebrating. What are you guys doing tonight?” Vanessa strolled past her, talking on her phone. The light-gray suit hugged her body, accentuating the toned body Carla remembered from the dance floor. Her short blond hair was brushed back from her face, and she was smiling as she gestured with her free hand. I’m really about to go on a date. With a woman. Carla nervously rubbed her slacks. “What was that, sweetie?”
“I said, we’re going to dinner and a movie with those girls you met. They can’t stop talking about how cool it was for you to go to the bar with us.”
“I had fun.” Carla frowned. Would Lissa find it so amusing after they told her about the divorce?
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Meeting a friend for dinner.” Vanessa leaned her hip against the railing that separated the outdoor patio from the sidewalk, still on her phone. Her shapely legs descended from the skirt to end in high heels. Jamie would say they were too high. “What? Oh, yeah. I’ll give him a kiss for you. I love you.”
Carla took deep breaths as she walked toward Vanessa. Her lips parted into a warm smile when she saw Carla, and she made a kissing sound to whomever she was talking before ending the call. Those lips covered in dark-red lipstick were the focal point of a beautiful face. Carla ran her tongue across her lips and smoothed her sweater.
“My daughter. Boyfriend troubles.” Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“I was just talking to my daughter, too.” So they had that in common. Carla relaxed a little.
“You look beautiful.” Vanessa cupped her elbow. “Great sweater.”
At the last second Carla redirected the intended kiss from her cheek to her mouth. Vanessa’s lips were soft and tasted like strawberries. Carla’s stomach fluttered as she pulled back. Had she really just kissed her?
“Nice greeting.” Vanessa kept her hand on Carla’s elbow as they stepped through the door held open by an older man. He gave them a hard look. It took Carla a moment to realize why. She met his stare without flinching. If she was going to be out, she was going to be proud.
“You said you’ve eaten here?”
