Love On Call

by Radclyffe

  “Come on,” Carrie said. “I’ll take you over to the bleachers. Abby and Presley are there. You can sit with them, and they can fill you in on all the players.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to intrude. I can find a seat somewhere.”

  “Hey, no way. You’re my cuz, remember? I want you to meet my friends. You’ll love them.”

  “Well, I know Abby a little,” Mari said a bit helplessly. She glanced over her shoulder as Carrie resolutely tugged her away from the Jeep. Glenn looked after them, her eyes shadowed. Mari called, “Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks.” Glenn hefted a duffel with bats sticking out one end and turned toward the field.

  Looking after her, Mari hesitated.

  “Something wrong?” Carrie asked.

  “What? No,” Mari said quickly. “No, everything is fine.”

  “Super. Should be a great game.”

  Surrendering to Carrie’s enthusiastic tug on her arm, Mari followed her through the scattering of people who mingled around a double set of bleachers off to the left of the big tall fence—what did they call that, the batter’s cage? Players were already on the field, tossing the ball back and forth, and someone was hitting another one into the outfield. She’d seen baseball games fleetingly on television and in the lounge at the hospital, but never paid any attention to them beyond the basics that every American grew up knowing. The sports channel wasn’t on her list of favorites, and when the ER staff was glued to the TV in the break room during the World Series, she was discreetly reading a book on her phone.

  “So how’s everything going in the ER?” Carrie asked when they reached the stands. She leaned against the railing, not seeming in any hurry to get out onto the field.

  “Great,” Mari lied for the second time in less than half an hour. She gestured to the field. “Don’t you have to go?”

  “In a minute or so.” Carrie grinned. “I’m the pitcher. I just need to warm up a little.”

  “Ah, special privileges.”

  “That’s it—think of me as the surgeon on the team. Nothing important happens without me.”

  Mari couldn’t help herself, she laughed. Carrie had a way of lifting her spirits despite her lingering melancholy. “Do the rest of them know that?”

  “Oh, they like to pretend otherwise but we all know the truth.” Carrie’s mischievous grin made it impossible to take her seriously. “So where are you living?”

  Mari told her. “It’s a little apartment, but it’s nice. You?”

  “I’m out in the country with Presley and Harper.”

  “You’re living with them?”

  Carrie tipped her head from side to side. “Well, technically Harper is living with me and Presley. We were there first. The hospital had actually rented the place for Presley, and I was going to stay in town, but it’s this big old rambling farmhouse with plenty of bedrooms, and it just made sense for us to live together. Plus, the house comes with a housekeeper whose cooking will make you cry. Wait till you taste Lila’s muffins.”

  Carrie made swooning noises and Mari laughed again. She’d never met anyone who seemed to take such unconcealed pleasure in life. She envied her new cousin that ability.

  “Anyhow,” Carrie went on, “when Harper and Prez got involved, well, you know how that goes. Pretty soon Harper was spending almost every night there.”

  Mari didn’t know how that went, but she wasn’t going to say so. She’d never gone any further than kissing, and not very much of that. She’d shared a room with her sister and, until she’d gotten sick, they’d shared pretty much everything. Talk of sex wasn’t one of them. Selena had a serious boyfriend, but she lived at home and Juan lived with his parents too. Mari doubted they were having sex. Selena was even more religious than their parents and had declared from the time she was twelve that sex before marriage was a sin. “Is it weird, living with your boss?”

  “Oh no. Prez and I have pretty good boundaries. The only real problem is that she wants to work all the time, and I refuse to talk about business before we get to the office.” Carrie laughed. “Well, I try not to, anyways, but it’s just natural for her. She’s always thinking about what she needs to do, and since she’s always twenty steps ahead of everyone, there’s always a lot of that.”

  “Sounds like she’s lucky to have you.”

  “Oh, she is. But she knows it. And I love my job.” Carrie laughed. “Anyhow, I’m going to be moving into Harper’s in a few weeks. At least I hope it will be that soon. Harper’s planning to have it renovated—add another bedroom and bathroom in case my family comes to visit or something.”

  “Is it in town?”

  “Oh no. It’s right smack-dab on the Rivers plantation. I call it a plantation, it isn’t really, although it looks a lot like Tara.”

  Mari struggled to follow the quickly swinging conversation. “Tara? You mean like in Gone with the Wind?”

  “Yeah, you know, the big white house with the columns and the gables and the sweeping porches and the acres and acres of green? That’s what the Rivers family’s homestead reminds me of. Harper’s place is like a quarter of a mile away—it used to be a caretaker’s house, a hundred years ago, I guess. It’s got its own little barn and a garden. Do you garden?”

  “You mean flowers? Um, no.”

  “Actually, I meant vegetables. You know, tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers. That kind of thing.”

  Mari couldn’t keep from smiling, although she didn’t feel the slightest bit humorous. “Oh my God, no. I grew up right in the heart of the city. The only things coming out of the ground that weren’t parking meters were the occasional trees that the city planted, and they were so puny they hardly qualified as trees. My family lives in a row house, and my mother sometimes put a window box with flowers outside the front window, but she took care of keeping them alive.”

  “You’ll have to come and see the place,” Carrie said. “I’ve pretty much talked Harper into letting me oversee the renovations, since I’m gonna be living there and she’s way busy at work.”

  “Of course,” Mari said automatically.

  “Great! We’re having a get-together at our place tomorrow. You’ll have to come and then I’ll take you on a tour.”

  “Ah, I—”

  “Oops—there’s my page,” Carrie said when a short, barrel-chested guy in a team shirt yelled and waved in their direction. “Come on.”

  Carrie vaulted up a narrow aisle between the rows of benches toward the top of the bleachers and Mari hurried after. The stands were surprisingly crowded with men, women, and children talking, eating, and laughing. Sundown was at least two hours away and the air shimmered with heat.

  “That’s Presley next to Abby,” Carrie said, pointing as she climbed, “and Harper’s sister Carson and her little boy next to her.” Carrie paused one row below Abby, next to Abby’s son and the Rivers girl, who Mari had first seen at the pizza place with Glenn. “Hey, move down, you two. This is my cousin Mari.”

  Dutifully, the teens inched down and slid closer together to make room on the end.

  “Thanks,” Mari said as she settled beside them.

  “Hey—gotta go warm up,” Carrie announced to the world in general. “Everybody, meet Mari, my cousin!”

  “Your cousin?” Presley said, obviously surprised, as she held out a hand to Mari. “Hi, I’m Carrie’s roomie, Presley.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Mari said to the hospital CEO. Roomie was right.

  “Yeah, neat, isn’t it?” Carrie squeezed Mari’s shoulder. “See you afterward for victory pizza. Bye, everybody. Look after my cuz.”

  Mari blushed at being the sudden focus of attention, but could hardly be annoyed. Carrie was just too damn sweet.

  Abby’s son turned and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Blake Remy.”

  The pretty young girl, who had the same classic features as her sisters along with a glorious head of thick cascading golden tresses, grinned around him. “Margie Rivers. Hi.”

  �
�Hi,” Mari said.

  Abby leaned down, a hand on each of the kids’ shoulders. “Ms. Mateo is one of our new PAs.”

  “Oh, you can call me Mari,” Mari said.

  “Cool,” Blake said. “Margie and I are going to be volunteers in the ER.”

  “That’s great,” Mari said.

  Blake glanced back at his mother. “Right, Mom?”

  “Presley and Harper have approved.” Abby turned to Mari. “Blake is going to start with us on Monday for four weeks, then Margie.”

  “Actually,” Margie said in a bright, clear voice, “Blake and I were thinking that we should do our rotations simultaneously, because that way we’ll get more out of them. Dr. Valentine is okay with both of us starting in the middle of August at the vet clinic and working until we go back to school, and then maybe on weekends.”

  “Weekends.” Abby looked back and forth between them. “We’ll have to see how your grades are before I’ll agree to that.”

  Blake made a face but didn’t argue.

  “As for the two of you rotating together, I don’t see why not. You can both start on Monday morning. Seven a.m.”

  Blake winced. “Seven?”

  Abby smiled just a little triumphantly. “We start at seven, which means you should probably show up around ten of.”

  Blake glanced at Margie. “Can you pick me up? Just until I get my license.” He looked over his shoulder at his mother with a truly angelic smile. “And a car.”

  Abby merely shook her head. “Those negotiations are ongoing. What are you driving, Margie—something safe? Not a motorcycle.”

  “Oh, totally.” Margie’s face glowed. “Harper gave me her old truck for as long as I keep it running and put gas in it.”

  “I’ll help with that,” Blake said instantly.

  “Fine,” Abby said. “Mari and I will be your supervisors in the ER.”

  “Cool,” both kids said at once.

  Abby squeezed Blake’s shoulder and sat back while Blake and Margie made plans in excited whispers. Mari tried and failed to imagine her own parents interacting with her the way Abby did with Blake and his friend, firmly in charge but listening to them, as if their opinions mattered. A year ago she might not have noticed, or at the most been surprised or curious. Now she was the tiniest bit jealous, and even more than a little sad.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Softball was a lot more interesting than Mari had ever realized. Maybe it was the players she found fascinating, though, and not the details of the game. One player in particular. She tended to forget the score and the number of outs, being mostly too busy watching Glenn. Glenn played the game the way she did everything else, with a singular focus that showed in her every movement, from the way she ran directly out onto the field with her baseball glove tucked under her arm, racing to her position, to settling into a loose-limbed stance, poised and ready for action. And watching, always watching. Her attentiveness was one of the things Mari liked most about Glenn—no matter what she was doing, evaluating a patient, instructing a student, listening while Mari talked, she was so unwaveringly there, totally engaged. Being around Glenn, when they talked in the ER hallway or relaxed across from each other in the pizza place, she knew without a doubt she was seen. It wasn’t as if Glenn had tunnel vision and shut out the rest of the world—just the opposite. Glenn was aware of everything. She constantly took in all the activity going on around them, as if to be sure she was never taken by surprise. Every time the door opened to admit a new customer or someone appeared from around the corner at the end of a hall, her gaze would flicker for just a second in that direction, as if she was assessing the threat level, determining friend or foe. And just as quickly her attention would swing back to Mari, one hundred percent.

  After years of feeling as if she was only partially visible, to family and friends and even herself, Mari exulted in the sensation of being seen at last. No more hiding—and now that Glenn knew all her secrets, or probably all that mattered, she couldn’t take solace in the shadows even if she’d wanted to. In the weeks since she’d left LA, her life had turned upside down.

  But she could handle it. She had to. She had nothing to go back to.

  “Ooh, this guy can hit,” Margie exclaimed. “He homered a couple of times in the last game against us.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Blake muttered as if recalling some grievous injury. “He pulls right, though, and Glenn wasn’t playing the night he homered. He got a break, that’s all.”

  Mari perked up at the sound of Glenn’s name and studied the batter. Unassuming enough, she would have thought. A slim, young guy she recognized from X-ray swung the bat in an easy motion and didn’t look to be all that strong. He swung and missed the first ball. The next he watched pass over the plate with barely a glance. Then he coiled just a little tighter, his front leg stretching out as Carrie released the ball, and his bat sliced the air almost too quickly for Mari to follow. The ball streaked away with a sharp crack in Glenn’s direction. Over her head. Too high for her to possibly reach.

  Mari caught her breath, edged forward on the bench while people yelled encouragement and many jumped to their feet. For just an instant Glenn seemed not to move at all, but merely lifted her head as the ball soared toward her, then she angled her shoulder, her gaze still fixed upward, and ran back and back, almost to the rear wall, as the ball arced down. With a fluid sweep of her arm, she lofted her glove and the bullet-like projectile seemed to fall into it as if that had been its only intention. As if she had drawn it to her like a magnet.

  Mari knew the feeling. Glenn was magnetic.

  She cheered with everyone else as Glenn’s team streaked off the field. She didn’t know the precise score, but she didn’t have any doubt that Glenn’s team had won when everyone on the bench around her jumped up, hooting loudly. She found herself caught on the wave of jubilation, amazed at the delight that buoyed her spirits. The winning wasn’t what really mattered, but the camaraderie, the common bond of supporting the team, most of whom were actually strangers, united her with the people around her. It was hard to feel alone in that raucous, high-spirited community.

  Abby climbed down and stood next to Mari in the aisle. “I’m surprised they haven’t recruited you yet.”

  “Actually, that was just about the first thing Carrie said to me,” Mari said with a laugh. “But I convinced her I’m much more valuable as a cheerleader than a player.”

  “Everyone has their purpose.” Abby nodded solemnly and broke into a grin. “A bunch of us are headed out to the pub for beer and burgers. Or just beer, or just burgers. Or in my case, gravy fries. You’re welcome to come.”

  Mari almost said yes before a sudden wave of uncertainty caught back the words. She wasn’t sure she could be around Glenn any more tonight without obsessing over the conversation they’d just had, and what and how things had changed. She was emotionally exhausted from reliving the last year and didn’t have the reserves to absorb any more pain for a few hours, and the distance that had descended between her and Glenn hurt. And, she admitted ever so fleetingly, she didn’t want to discover she was no longer the focus of Glenn’s attention. At war with herself, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll head home. I’m starting nights tomorrow, and I want to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Okay. See you at the barbecue tomorrow?”

  Before Mari could answer, Carrie appeared beside them, her flushed face alight. “Hey, great game, huh?”

  “Fabulous,” Abby said.

  From the row behind them, Presley yelled, “Super pitching, Ace.”

  “But of course.” Carrie looked at Mari. “Have fun?”

  “It was great,” Mari said, meaning the words this time.

  “You’re coming out with us, right?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “You sure? Do you drink beer?”

  “Ah—now and then.” That was sort of true, although Mari rarely drank anything at all. Spirits were not something her parents consi
dered proper casual drinking, and since she’d barely dated, she didn’t have much reason to drink. When she’d gone out on occasion with the others in her training program, she’d usually stuck to something nonalcoholic. And then, when she got sick, alcohol was off the table.

  “Bottoms Up has a great assortment on tap, anyhow,” Carrie said. “And decent food. You sure?”

  “I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Okay. So I’ll pick you up about nine tomorrow.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Remember, you’re getting a tour of my soon-to-be new house before we head over to the farm. I think there’ll be Lila’s biscuits.”

  “Oh—well, there’s the barbecue in the afternoon and—”

  “Right. We’re having a little get-together at our place, to review the last-minute details for Presley’s wedding. Then we can all head over to the barbecue together.”

  Mari glanced at Presley, who had joined them. “Oh, well, I don’t want to intrude.”

  Presley waved her hand. “Believe me, we love all the input we can get. This wedding is a group venture. You’re more than welcome.”

  “Nine o’clock,” Carrie called, as she turned and scrambled back down the crowded aisle.

  “Well, okay,” Mari said in defeat. She followed along with the throng of people clambering down the bleachers and finally found a clear space to catch her breath and figure out where she was. She was pretty sure she remembered the direction Glenn had driven, and it wasn’t very far at all from the center of town. All of a sudden, she really looked forward to a few moments of being alone to regroup.

  “Carrie says you’re not going out with us,” Glenn said, materializing by her side.

  “No, I thought I’d call it an early night.” Mari smiled. “Congratulations on winning the game.”

  A quicksilver smile flashed across Glenn’s face, adding warmth to her cool attractiveness that was disconcertingly captivating. “It was a bit of a cakewalk, but we’ll take it now and then.”