by KG MacGregor
“So I pointed Teri out to her and she got a load of that MAGA hat. Fair to say Britt admires your politics.”
“She was asking about me? What did she say?” It was middle school all over again. “Never mind, what did you say?”
“I told her you were a prize.” Carly’s grin suddenly faded. “And maybe a little hardheaded.”
“Hardheaded? Thanks a lot.”
“Because you’re principled. Which is why you broke up with Teri.” Carly craned her neck to check the action through the window. “Damn, that woman can flat-out talk.”
Ninah grunted. “Am I imagining things or are they hitting it off?”
“Stop it.” Carly finished loading the dishwasher. “Margot’s got a cool job but it’s all she knows. Unless you’re into horses—and I don’t think Britt is—that’s gonna wear on you after two hours, three at the most. There’s only so much horse shit a girl can take. Just ask Dorie.”
Chapter Twenty
For the third time, Britt summarized the contents of their phone call in an effort to encourage her newest advertising client to stop his blathering and hang up. “I think that covers it, Rich. I’ll make sure you have three players in uniform at the Ford dealership a week from Saturday, ten o’clock. Thanks so much.”
Seeing Ninah at the door, she waved her into the office and tried to focus on Rich’s last bit of tedium. It proved a challenge, since Ninah’s outfit instantly commanded her attention—tight white jeans with a red Longdogs jersey specially styled for a woman’s figure. Her hair was freshly cut, and her face glowed with a low-key hint of blush and shimmering bronze shadow that made her hazel eyes pop.
“What a great view,” Ninah said, gazing out onto the field.
“I’ll say,” she replied to herself. “I like that jersey. It’ll come in handy if Hank needs to pull you out of the stands to pinch hit.”
“I don’t get to wear it to home games now that I’m official scorekeeper. Can’t have people thinking I’m biased.”
Britt nodded toward the field, where Pervis was putting up a new billboard. “Keep an eye on Pervis. He goes bonkers when the sprinklers come on.”
“That’s cruel…in a hilarious sort of way.”
Britt came around her desk and gestured at what had become her standard office fare, trim black pants and a fitted shirt. “Will you go with me like this? I can probably find a Longdogs T-shirt in the storage room. I reached the bottom of my suitcase about nine days ago.”
“I think you look great. Besides, you’re one of those people who can get away with wearing a grocery sack.”
“Is that a commentary on my wardrobe?” she teased.
“No, I just put you in that rarified air with women who make their clothes look great instead of the other way around. Like Justine Hall.”
“Wow, I’ll take that any day.” She surreptitiously studied Ninah’s figure in the form-fitting jersey, remembering exactly what was underneath. “In case I haven’t said it, I really do appreciate all you guys have done to make me feel at home. I realize I haven’t exactly been gracious about it, but I’m starting to feel that coming here was the right thing to do.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Your whole life was upended.” With a mischievous laugh, she added, “If I were a better person, I’d feel guilty for being glad about it.”
It was the second time Ninah had casually tossed out a hint of flirtatious innuendo. A part of her wanted to answer back and let the chips fall. That would complicate their friendship if Ninah developed expectations.
“I guess we ought to hit the road.” On the way out, she grinned smugly and dropped a contract form on Misty’s desk. “Got us another one, Misty. The Ford dealership.”
“If they were fish, they’d be jumping in the boat.”
Ninah bounced ahead down two flights of stairs. “You’re not fooling me, Britt Iverson. You enjoy this baseball business.”
“As JT Sharpe made very clear, what I do has nothing to do with baseball. As long as I don’t tear up the field, that is.” She nodded ahead. “By the way, the rental car company picked up my Toyota this morning. Thought I should warn you.”
“Does that mean you want me to drive?”
“And miss the chance to go in style?” Outside she clicked her key fob, causing the lights on her father’s Silverado pickup truck to flash. “This baby’s got every luxury feature you could possibly imagine. I feel like Cleopatra being carried around in one of those golden carriages.”
“A palanquin.”
“Are you kidding me? Who knows trivia like that?”
“A history teacher.”
Ninah’s sunglasses dropped and skittered across the parking lot, sending her in pursuit. As she stooped to retrieve them, Britt’s uncontrollable libido filled in the visual details from behind. That settled it. Next time Ninah flirted, she’d remind her they were in the Friend Zone. Or maybe she was reminding herself.
On Main Street, they rolled to a stop at a crosswalk, where a slender black youth made eye contact with them and waved. Britt thought briefly it might be one of her ballplayers, but they all were in Ashland. “Am I supposed to know that guy?”
“He’s one of my students. Pull over a sec.” Ninah hopped out and met him at the corner for an animated chat that lasted less than a minute. When she returned, she explained, “That’s Thaddeus Martin, younger brother of Ike. Remember him? Carly’s barista. Thaddeus was president of the GSA last year, but he’s off to Berea College in the fall. He asked if you were my girlfriend, by the way.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him no, and that he ought to tie his shoes before he tripped over the laces.”
“I guess that’s nicer than mind your own effing business.” Britt almost remarked about the gossipy nature of small towns but didn’t want to start another quarrel about Leland.
At Leland’s last stoplight, Ninah waved to a pair of teenage girls on the sidewalk.
“More grist for the gossip mill?” Britt asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
“Probably. Juicy stuff spreads faster around here than head lice. It’s worse because I’m a teacher. Students always find it fascinating to realize their teachers have lives outside of school.”
“It must be weird living in a fishbowl. What do they think about you being gay?”
“The usual, I suppose. Some of them probably snicker about it but not where I can see them. I’ve never regretted coming out. They need to see how normal it is. Teri and I—that’s my ex, we split up three years ago—we used to go to football games together, or band concerts, whatever. All the kids knew we were a couple.”
“Carly pointed her out to me the other night.”
“Yeah, she said. In all her MAGA hat glory. She’s still on Justine’s List so you’ll run into her eventually, probably at the Pride picnic next month.”
“I can’t fathom why a queer person would vote for Trump.”
“Oh, Teri didn’t just vote for him. She drove to four different states to go to his rallies, and she wears that stupid MAGA hat everywhere she goes. I got home from school one day and there was this big-ass Trump billboard in our front yard. That was it for me.” As she spoke, her voice rose with disgust. “It was sickening. I mean physically sickening. Imagine watching the person you’re supposed to be in love with morph into a sycophant for that flaming orange asshole.”
“And you had no idea she felt that way?”
Ninah shook her head. “Not really…that’s on me though. I knew she could be a jerk sometimes, like she called all Latinos Jose and Carlita. Blacks were either homeys or baby mamas. I’d scold her and she’d laugh it off. I should have taken it more seriously. When you’re with somebody like that for six years, people think you must be a closet racist too. Even now, it embarrasses the hell out of me.”
“Six years.” Not as long as she’d stayed with Candice, but a long time. “Carly said you weren’t married.”
“No, thank God. I owe
her and Justine for that. If they hadn’t been so adamant about wanting their marriage license issued here in Leland County, Teri and I might have followed the crowd and gotten married in Lexington. We were tied together with a mortgage though. We built our house on land her father gave us, so we couldn’t sell it to anyone else. I had to give up most of my equity just to get away from her. Like a fox gnawing off its own foot to get out of a trap.”
Britt had been forced out of her house too, since she couldn’t afford to assume the mortgage on her own after Candice gutted their business. “At least you landed on your feet. You’ve got a good job and lots of friends.”
“Can’t complain there. I just wish I didn’t run into her every time I turn around. The ballpark, the grocery store.”
“Do you still speak?”
Ninah shook her head. “It’s probably best if we don’t. I wouldn’t say nice things. What about Candice? Are you still in touch?”
“She pops up at parties in San Diego once in a while. I manage to be civil but I don’t go out of my way to talk to her.” Her attitude toward Candice was hard to explain without sounding soulless. The urgency of trying to sell the house and save the business had helped her avoid confronting the emotions over their breakup. Once those crises passed, the only thing left of their relationship was ambivalence. “We had eleven years, Candice and me. With absolutely nothing to show for it.”
“Oh, I don’t know…these scars have to count for something.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The farther they got from Lexington, the more sparse the countryside, with fields giving way to forests. Past the Licking River, they climbed the Cumberland Plateau to the worn mountain ridges that held Kentucky’s rich coal deposits. Ninah knew it all like the back of her hand.
“I just had a flashback,” Britt said. “The last time I came down this road was on a school bus when my senior class took a field trip to Washington, DC. I forgot how rugged it was in this part of the state.”
“Welcome to coal country,” Ninah said, gesturing toward the exit ahead. “You up for a little side trip? It won’t take long.”
They glided off the ramp, where a road sign indicated a left turn for food and gas. “Coal Springs, four miles. Just promise you won’t get us lost out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“We’re not lost. I could drive this road blindfolded.”
The winding road that connected the interstate to the town of twelve hundred ran parallel to a wide ravine known as Stone Holler. Spring rains had brought the usual rock slides that gouged holes in the pavement.
The speed limit dropped to thirty-five as they entered a short commercial stretch marked by the ubiquitous signs of economic struggle. Junk cars, abandoned storefronts. A thrift shop, a payday lender that cashed checks and wrote money orders.
“Welcome to Coal Springs, my hometown,” Ninah said, now second-guessing her impulse for the detour. Britt couldn’t possibly react with anything but despair. “Both my parents grew up here. Go back two or three generations, and I’m probably related to half the town. Lucky for me, I was a pretty decent softball pitcher, good enough to get noticed by the college scouts. If not for that I might still be here.”
“Do you still play? They have recreation leagues, right?”
“Yeah, but I dropped out about four years ago. Some of the women I played with like to smoke weed, do a few pills. I can’t be a schoolteacher and be around that sort of thing. Anyway, now you see why I like Leland so much.”
Britt groaned. “I’m really sorry, Ninah. I never should have said those things about Leland.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t blame you for feeling that way. Yours was a different reality.” Their friendship had made her more protective of Britt’s comfort zone. “I only brought you here because I feel the same way about Coal Springs as you do about Leland. Not the traumatic memories, but it distresses me sometimes to be here. Even when I visit Mama I can’t bring myself to stay the night. I’d never come back here to live.”
“Is this a coal town?”
“Used to be. The last mine closed about fifteen years ago. All they have now are a few trout farms. Opioids hit this whole area pretty hard but it seems to be leveling off. Mama says that’s because the people most at risk are dead already.”
From the main road, there was nothing in the town’s landscape that looked anything like hope. No flowers. No parks or playgrounds. Just the fenced-in field by the Baptist church where Ninah had honed the skills that got her into Western Kentucky on an athletic scholarship. She guided Britt to the church’s gravel parking lot.
“I was out here till dark most nights with my dad. He taught me how to play ball, drilled me over and over till I could do it in my sleep.”
“JT said he played in the major leagues.”
“He was a catcher for the Minnesota Twins…sort of.” Staring out over the field, she could almost picture him squatted behind a cardboard cutout of home plate as she whirled the ball underhanded. Thousands and thousands of times. “Let me put it this way, he’s on the books.”
“What does that mean?”
“Daddy got drafted by the Twins out of high school, made it up to Double-A in Charlotte. They had him working with their pitching prospects. Then he got drafted for real—by Uncle Sam. This was Vietnam. Mama kept hoping the Twins would put in for a deferment. When they didn’t, Daddy figured they must not have expected him to develop much further. He always said if he’d gotten a deferment, somebody else would have had to go in his place.”
“Sounds like a decent guy.”
“He was.” Talking about her father stirred both sadness and comfort. “About a week before he was supposed to report, right out of the blue, the Twins called him up. An hour later he’s on a bus to Minneapolis. The next night they stuck him in a game as a pinch runner and announced to the crowd that he was due to report to Fort Jackson in a few days. He got a standing ovation, and then another one when he scored. I’m sure it was part respect, part PR gimmick, but it still gives me goose bumps to think about it.”
“You must have been really proud of him.”
“I miss him every day.” She patted her chest and blinked back unexpected tears. “He and Mama loved watching the Longdogs. They used to come visit in the summer so they could go to the games.”
It surprised her to realize how much she’d wanted Britt to appreciate her father’s story. Perhaps it was a subconscious craving for reciprocity, given that she held Vernon in such high regard.
“Is your mother still here?”
“In the same house.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s a little ways down that street we just passed. My sister and her boys are living there with her now, but don’t get me started on that.”
“Would you like to—”
“Absolutely not.” Ninah added a sardonic laugh. No way was she taking Britt into that circus. “Last time I was here, all the cash in my wallet went missing. I mentioned it to Mama in case it was one of my nephews. I figured you wouldn’t want a kid walking around with a couple hundred bucks in their pocket, right? It worried Mama too so she asked Leah about it, and Leah went ballistic. Called me a terrible aunt for even suggesting one of her little angels would do something so underhanded. Which is fair, I guess, since it was probably Leah who took it.”
“Oh no!”
“Hey, I warned you not to get me started. I’d like to believe Leah will get her act together eventually. She’s just taking the scenic route.”
Britt’s face fell as she took in their stark surroundings. “Don’t take this as an insult, okay? I’m impressed as hell by what you’ve done with your life. You were looking at some pretty incredible odds.”
“I’m not insulted.” On the contrary, she felt nothing but pride at knowing she had Britt’s respect. “But credit where it’s due, Mama and Daddy always pushed us in school so we’d aim higher than Coal Springs. I owe it all to them.”
“Not all of it. You obvi
ously worked hard too.” Britt eased the truck back onto the road toward the interstate and craned her neck for a glimpse of the houses on the street where Ninah’s mother lived. “Other than my mother being a lunatic, I had a lot of lucky breaks growing up. Dad was always there to hand me everything I asked for. I don’t know if I could have done it on my own like you did.”
“You went to California all by yourself. That took a lot of guts for a kid right out of high school. I’d have been scared to death to venture that far from home.”
“Not if being at home made you as unhappy as it did me.” They rode back through Stone Holler in silence, reaching the interstate before Britt elaborated. “What I remember most about my first year at San Diego State was feeling safe for the first time in my life. Truly safe, like I could be myself and not have to worry about being ostracized. Was it like that for you when you went off to college?”
“Most of the time, yeah. I hung out a lot with my teammates, most of whom were gay. Everybody was cool, even the straight players and all the coaches.”
“What about when you went to class? Were you out?”
“Not exactly. I didn’t lie or anything, but my sexuality wasn’t relevant in the history department, so I never brought it up.”
“But it was relevant on the softball field?”
“I see what you did there.”
Britt flashed a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I was just making a contrast. Because once I got to California, I was able to be out everywhere. I wore Pride pins to class, put a bumper sticker on my car. The point is I felt utterly safe there. Most people didn’t care one way or the other, but the ones who did care were supportive. When I compared that to the church culture here in Kentucky, the thought of ever coming back was purgatory.”
“Mmm…I could see that maybe fifteen years ago, but it’s not like that now.”
“Sure it is. Didn’t you tell me your kids got heckled at Pride Night? That the churches came out and protested? And you know they’re getting it at home too. Maybe not as bad as what my mom did, but still. It’s oppressive.”
