“Probably true.” I sat down in the chair with a thud. “He’s not going to like Daniel, is he?”
“I don’t know.” She sat back down at the table.
My head dropped to the table. “He won’t.”
“You can’t say that for certain.”
“I know it though.” I glanced up at her concerned face. “Just like you know he won’t like Charles.”
“Honey, I’m not saying he won’t like Charles. He will have a hard time accepting him.”
“Same diff.” I sat up with an idea so brilliant that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. It would solve all my problems. “Grandma, do I have to move back?”
She was caught off guard. “What?”
“Can’t I stay here?” I bounced a little in my seat. This was totally the right thing to do. “He could use this to his advantage in the media that I’m helping my poor, elderly grandmother or something. There’d be no political downfalls from that.”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were focused on the floor and she smacked her lips with little sound. Grandma did that when she was thinking. “Why?” she asked.
I shrugged, not ready to admit she didn’t like the idea and not saying what I felt. Because this feels more like home.
“I don’t think your parents will allow it,” she said, drawing out each word like I was five and didn’t understand anything. She stood up again. “But we can discuss it after your season is over, okay?”
I jumped up and hugged her again.
“I’m not saying yes.”
“I know.” But you aren’t saying no.
“Okay then. Now we need to fix this situation with your mother.” She walked over to her calendar and pointed to the upcoming Saturday. “You will invite Daniel and his parents to your mother’s for dinner that night.”
I crossed my arms. “Come on, Grandma. You know that’s not a good idea.”
“No ifs, ands, or buts. If you want your mother to even consider letting you live with me, which I’m not sure is a good idea, then you need to let her meet Daniel properly. And that includes his parents.”
“Fine, but he has a little sister too,” I pouted. Like Becca was going to get me out of this mess.
“Just invite the family, Vicky.”
“One condition,” I said like I was in a position to make demands. “You have to be there.”
“Of course, I will.” She started to walk to the hallway, yawning.
I dropped the bomb. “So does Charles.”
“Oh, now that’s not necessary.” She stumbled, catching the wall to keep from losing her balance.
“Yep, that’s the deal breaker. Mr. Cho knows Charles. That’ll make him more comfortable.” I leaned closer so she would know I was serious. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”
She laughed. It was both a nervous and funny laugh. “Fine. You win. I won’t throw you to the wolves alone. Now get to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
I kissed her cheek and skipped to my room. The dinner with my mother couldn’t be that bad.
TOP OF THE 7TH
Grandma let me see a different side to her charity work the next morning. Once a month, she went to the battered women’s shelter to deliver food and clothing she’d collected. This time she invited me to tag along. A lot of it actually came from my mother’s friends. The designer tags stood out as I helped her take everything out of each bag while we worked in silence in the shelter basement.
Jacqueline, the director of the facility, eyed me with suspicion when I showed up with Grandma. I waited by the back of the truck as they talked about whether bringing me was a good idea. Whatever Grandma said, it worked. I was allowed inside. Not that we saw anything or anyone. Jacqueline let us in with the clothes and pointed us to the basement. I heard voices behind me but didn’t turn to see who it was.
“Why all the secrecy?” I asked after sorting my second bag of clothes into sizes.
“These women are basically in hiding.” Grandma looked at a white silk shirt that had a coffee stain on the front and tossed it into the trash.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I said, shocked at having to defend myself.
She didn’t stop sorting. “Not intentionally.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The fact that my trustworthiness was in question bothered me. A lot. I was Senator Hudson’s daughter for crying out loud.
“You could give directions to someone who might turn around and give them to someone else who’s looking for a resident.” She handed me another bag. “These women live in a certain amount of fear. The mere thought of their husbands or parents or boyfriends coming after them might send them into a panic. They could simply disappear without getting the help they need for themselves or their kids.”
“Kids?” I opened the bag. Inside were baby clothes. On top of the tiny t-shirts was a stuffed rabbit.
“Of course, where did you think the children go?”
I pulled out a pink onesie with “Princess” in silver sparkles across the chest. “I never thought about it I guess.”
“Most people don’t.” She tossed a pair of dress pants toward the washing machine. “They think it’s easy for a woman to leave abusive situations and just start over. They don’t stop to think that these women are victims and not just too lazy to leave.”
“Why don’t they? Leave, I mean.”
“It could be just about anything really. Financial reasons for one. They can’t afford to leave, especially with children involved. Or they don’t know how to live in a world where men don’t beat on them. There may be mental issues or it could be plain old fear.”
“Fear?” I held up a toddler’s t-shirt that read “Rock Star.”
“It’s the biggest reason most people do things or don’t do things in their life. Think of the one thing you fear most in the world. What do you do to remedy the situation? Is it really as easy as someone else might believe?”
I folded the last two bags in silence. The tiny clothes bothered me more than what Grandma said. How could any kid live like this? I thought of my mother’s house with the pool, the designer dresses I never wore, the top tier gaming systems in the pool house, and the flat screen TVs.
The biggest problem in my life was my controlling father. But he never hit me, and I knew he never would.
I didn’t see Daniel Friday night. His aunt arrived from Chicago for her annual visit. I hoped that this inconvenience would put off Saturday’s dinner. I was wrong. Mom loved the idea of Daniel’s aunt joining us. At least, she pretended she did. She had everything planned with Grandma by the time I fell asleep Friday night. And what an appalling night’s sleep it was. I couldn’t get it out of my head that something horrible was going to happen when the Cho family showed up at Chez Hudson.
Saturday morning, I woke up with that same feeling of dread in my chest. It didn’t take long to find out why. On the front page of the local news section, there was a picture of me at the plate. It was huge. I sat down at the kitchen table and thought I’d be sick. I skimmed the article and turned the page to finish it. There was another picture of me looking up at Daniel as we walked to the dugout. It looked like his glove was on my ass. And I only felt worse after I finished the story.
Victoria Hudson, daughter of U.S. Senator Warren Hudson, fights sex discrimination in the city’s summer baseball program. Hudson, 17, will be a senior at Xavier Preparatory School for the upcoming school year. This summer, in an effort to admonish sexual discrimination in local athletics, Hudson joined a local baseball team.
Hudson reportedly found a loop hole in the district’s registration packet that allowed a female to participate in the program. This particular district’s rules do not stipulate that players must be male to participate. In fact, the application does not ask for gender. Hudson’s application did not, however, list her complete name. Instead, she wrote “Vic” in an effort to mislead officials. The district initially intended to remove
her from the team based on this omission but found no legal means to do so. The team’s coach, Bernie Strauss, pointed out to district officials that two other male members of his team would also be forced out if the district removed Hudson for such a reason. The two teammates in question are Troy “T.C.” Notts, the shortstop, and Oliver “Ollie” Venter, the second baseman. Strauss also argued that all other districts would be forced to remove players that used nicknames on applications as well.
Hudson, who refused to be interviewed for this story, plays third base for Coach Strauss’ Wolverines.
“She plays well, but she’s making a joke out of baseball,” a teammate who asked to remain anonymous stated. “No one takes us seriously.”
It would also appear that her presence on the team is a distraction for at least one player.
“Yeah, some of the guys forget what’s going on when she’s on the field. Now that she’s dating one of them, it’s even worse,” our source added.
The teammate Hudson is dating appears to be Daniel Cho, son of local architect Ray Cho. According to our source, Cho’s playing ability diminished considerably from last summer. Cho, and several other team members, refused multiple requests for interviews.
“She’s a completely different person,” classmate Theo Tudor told us. Tudor, who dated Hudson for six months, also stated, “This person playing baseball isn’t the Victoria I know. I’ve been to some of the games and she’s a raving lunatic on the field.”
It is hard to say what motivated Hudson to morph from the girl next door to a mad woman on the baseball field. Known as a nice respectable young lady, Hudson’s actions have been noticed by a lot of people.
One thing is certain; the district is already revising the rules for next summer so that this type of situation does not arise again.
“The boys aren’t trying to play softball,” District Athletic Chairman Joel Wasson stated. “Why should the girls force themselves onto a boys’ baseball team?”
As for Senator Hudson’s thoughts on his daughter’s baseball interests, his office refused to comment.
It is widely speculated that the Senator will make a run at his party’s nomination in the next Presidential campaign.
Hudson’s next game is this afternoon at 3:00 pm at Jackson Memorial Park.
I’m not ashamed to admit it. I cried. Out of anger.
Grandma waited for me to say something. She stood in her usual spot at the kitchen sink, staring at me.
“Who talked?” I asked.
“I don’t know, baby.”
“Why would someone do this to me?” The phone rang on the wall behind me. Without thinking, I reached over my head and answered, “Hello?”
“You aren’t answering your cell,” Daniel said with a hint of panic. “Did you see the paper?”
“Who talked?”
“Whoever it was is going to get their ass kicked. Adam and Ollie called me. I know it wasn’t them. But I can’t say about anyone else for sure.”
“Delvin?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled. “I doubt it though. He likes you. We all like you.”
“Except Jayden.” I slammed my hand down on the table like the maniac Wakefield made me out to be. “Damn it, Daniel. It had to be Jayden. That’s the only person that makes any sense. He didn’t come to Hansen’s, remember? He hates that I’m on the team. He told everyone that I’m making fun of the game. And that’s the quote in the paper.”
“We’re going to have to come right out and ask him.”
“Coach is going to be pissed.”
“No kidding. We should get a call from him before long.”
I took a sip of the coffee Grandma put in front of me. Sweetened perfectly. “Daniel, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“They named you in the article.”
“So.”
“And that picture.”
“It looks like two teammates.”
“It looks like your hand is on my butt.”
“Well, it was for a second.” He snorted. “Don’t worry about it, Vic. I’m not.”
“Still, I am sorry for all of this, Daniel.”
“You know Aunt Rita is really looking forward to meeting you now,” he said with extra cheer in his voice.
I slapped my forehead. “God, I totally forgot about that.”
“It’ll be fine, Vic. Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right,” I whispered. He had no idea how much I meant that.
“Always am. I’ll call you later, okay?”
As soon as I hung up the phone, it rang again.
“Victoria,” Mom screeched. Her voice took on inhuman octaves when she was crying. “Your father just called me about the story in the paper. That reporter never even called his office.” She sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Vicky.”
I knew she wasn’t sorry that he found out. There was more behind her words. “For what? What’s he going to do?”
She sniffled. “He’ll be home tonight.”
“Great. Just great.” I made no attempt to hide the sarcasm. “I’ll call Daniel and cancel dinner.”
“Why?” Any sound of tears in her voice disappeared. “Your relationship with this boy –”
“His name is Daniel.”
“ – is one of the things he wants to discuss.” She cleared her throat. “He wants to talk about this baseball obsession too.”
This was not a good idea. “It isn’t an obsession. There isn’t anything to talk about.”
“But that photo –”
“The one of me and Daniel? What about it, Mom?” My voice started rising and I didn’t fight to keep it down. “It looks like two teammates after a game. If I were a guy, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“If you were a boy, it wouldn’t be newsworthy,” she snapped. “You never think, Victoria. You never once think about how this might affect your father.”
“Just like he never thinks how this is going to affect me.” I slammed the phone down. Then I picked up the receiver and slammed it down again and again until Grandma pried it from my fingers.
“Are you okay?” Grandma asked. The room was so quiet it felt like being underwater. When I didn’t answer, she added, “This isn’t that big of a deal.”
“Which part? The newspaper article or the Senator coming home because of it?”
It was her turn to not answer.
“I just …” The words stuck in my throat, holding back the sobs that wanted to follow.
“Tell me.”
I looked at her. Grandma really wanted to know. She cared. Whenever my mother said “tell me,” she looked like a lioness on the hunt.
“Vicky...”
“For once, I felt like my own person,” I blurted. “I felt like me and not Senator Hudson’s daughter. I wasn’t a campaign promise or a piece of the perfect family. I was just me.” The tears came like rapids on the Colorado. “Does that make any sense?”
She rushed over to me and wrapped me in her arms. “More than you know.”
The phone rang again. I had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.
“Hello?” Grandma answered in her perfect political mother voice. Then she handed the phone to me.
As soon as I put the receiver to my ear, Coach Strauss bellowed, “Hudson, get your ass over to my house at one o’clock. We’re havin’ a team meetin’.”
He rattled off the address and disconnected. The phone rang again as soon as I hung it back on the wall.
Grandma answered. I heard her say “no comment” as I walked down the hall to my room. It was only eight in the morning. I had five hours to kill before I needed to be at Coach’s house. The only thing I wanted to do was hide.
BOTTOM OF THE 7TH
Mrs. Strauss was not what I expected. For some stupid reason, I thought she’d be a shrively old lady in a housecoat and slippers. When I rang the doorbell at quarter to one, an athletic woman answered. She had crow’s feet and a few gray hairs, but she was
in better shape than most of the girls in my class.
She directed me through the modern living room to a set of stairs that led to the basement. I arrived early to talk to Coach alone and was glad I did.
When I stepped off the stairs, I knew this was hallowed ground. I’d entered Bernie Strauss’ man cave. Military paraphernalia lined the walls. Then I saw a photo of Mrs. Strauss holding an M16 in full camis. This wasn’t a man cave so much as a room filled with memories. When I first met him, I assumed he was a Marine. I loved being right. The far wall was covered with photos of graduating Marines and Coach Strauss stood with them as their drill instructor.
Above the television was a picture of Coach in his dress blues with his arm around his wife in her Navy whites on their wedding day. The bouquet gave it away. Beside that was a picture of a young man with Coach’s nose and his wife’s eyes, also wearing dress blues.
“Hudson, you’re early,” Coach growled from a recliner that had seen better days.
“Yes, sir.” I felt the need to salute.
“Well, sit down,” he motioned to a couch of faded brown leather. I sank into it and never wanted to get up. “What’s on your mind?”
I looked at the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
I shrugged and looked up. “For the newspaper article this morning. For even thinking I should be playing baseball. For dragging everyone down.”
He shook his head. “I never pegged you to be stupid, Hudson.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You can’t stop what people write about you. And you ain’t a bad ball player. And, as for draggin’ us down, that ain’t happened.”
“But –”
He didn’t let me finish. “No buts, kid.” Then he stood up and walked through a door and came back with a couple of sodas. “Now, you know who talked. Whaddya wanna do about it?”
I caught the soda as he threw it at me. “I just want to know why he did it.”
He huffed and sat in his chair. “You ain’t figured that out yet?”
Extra Innings Page 14
