by DW Cee
From: Josh Davis
Subject: Have you no imagination?
Seriously? Loser buys dinner? That’s all you can come up with? How about loser is at the mercy of the winners’ whim? We shall come up with some form of punishment for you losers. Ha ha ha! I say with an evil laugh.
To: Josh Davis, et al
From: Nick Reid
Subject: Talking trash
Get ready to eat shit. See you this weekend.
To: Jane Reid, et al
From: Delaney Reid
Subject: I am out of town this weekend
Sorry but I can’t play. Have a great time.
To: Delaney Reid, et al
From: Donovan Taylor
Subject: What do you mean you are out of town?
Where are you going and with whom? You can’t miss this event.
To: Donovan Taylor, et al
From: Delaney Reid
Subject: I can do whatever I please
None of your business. Really none of your business! You are not the boss of me.
To: Delaney Reid, et al
From: Roland Ascot
Subject: Stop with the emails
Your Gram is about to kick me out of this bed because my phone keeps pinging. I’ve had 60 years of sleeping without Estelle. Go argue at Jake’s house. NO MORE MESSAGES!
That stopped the emails and one by one, the participants entered the kitchen. Doug and Nick were the first to appear. Then the Davis brothers came, then Donovan came with Becky, Al, and Bee.
“Hi Bee! It’s so good to see you,” I exclaimed with a huge hug. “It’s been way too long.”
“I agree! Becky tells me you’re seeing someone?” She looked around and stopped in front of the Davis brothers. “Hmmm...” She did her browsing up and down. “You look too young,” she said of Josh, “You’re too serious,” she swept over Garret. “But you look just right for our lovely Jane.” She actually did a full circle around Max.
“I am just right for this woman,” Max grabbed me and kissed me.
Bee whispered in my ear. “Sexy, hot, and domineering. I approve.”
“Thanks,” I chuckled at her purring in my ear.
“So how are we to form a team with seven players?” Josh asked. “You need to give us a player so we’ll be even.”
I didn’t like that idea. “Can’t you round up more players? Then it won’t be The Reids vs. The Others if we lend you a Reid.”
Josh had an evil glint in his eyes that made me think I didn’t want to know what he was about to say. “All right. We’ll just recruit Hannah and Joyce. They can play second and third base, flanking Max at shortstop.”
I gave Josh a damn you look. “You are off my Christmas list.” I whispered. “All right. Who do you want?”
“Hello, everyone.” The door opened and in walked Laney in a sweet looking dress.
“How was your date?” Doug asked.
“A date?” Josh was bummed and kind of upset. “Why will you go out with everyone but me?”
“Why the hell do you date so much? I don’t get why so many guys ask you out.” It looked like Donovan said this without much thought, but Laney looked hurt initially, then got pissed.
“First of all,” she addressed Doug, “it wasn’t a date. A group of us stayed to finish our project, then went out for a bite to eat. Secondly,” she addressed Josh, “I don’t go out with everyone. And finally,” her voice got louder and more pissed as she addressed each of her accusers, “maybe I date so I can one day have a meaningful relationship rather than just a meeting of the bodies. And what the hell do you care why guys ask me out. If you’re that curious, why don’t you do a Q&A with Josh and see how many times I’ve gone out with him.” Boy, that last sentence slammed both men in one shot. Damn. She was tart when she wanted to be.
With that, Laney stormed out of the kitchen and slammed the door on her way out. Both Donovan and Josh looked like they wanted to go after her, but were in a state of shock and disbelief that our mild-mannered Laney pretty much told them to fuck-off. I loved it. The fiery Reid spirit was alive and well.
“You gonna go after her?” Jake asked his buddy. “It’s only proper you bring her back since you pissed her off.”
Donovan shook his head no. “She may chop off my balls and eat it for a late night snack if I go see her now. Damn! That girl has a temper.”
“All women have tempers, and you tend to provoke Laney without cause.” Emily warned. “Donovan, please bring Laney back. I don’t like seeing her upset. You were both unkind to her.”
“Oh, all right.” Donovan huffed, and went to fetch Laney.
“How come you didn’t ask me to go?” Josh pouted at Emily.
“You can apologize when she gets here.”
While Donovan went to go get Laney, we decided on team names and colors for our uniforms. We only had tomorrow to practice so we each decided on a practice time and place.
“You’re back!” Josh ran over to Laney who walked in pouting. “I’m sorry. You forgive me?” Josh went to hug her, but Laney did a cool duck and weave boxing move and Josh ended up hugging Donovan instead.
“Hello, again, Laney Reid. I see you took off my creation, and changed into sweats.”
“And a beautiful creation it was, Bee! I get compliments on all your masterpieces.” Laney hugged Bee. “How great to see you here. I was happy your nephew included you.”
Bee cracked up. “Yes, my nephew has his good moments at times.”
“Few and far in between,” Laney didn’t even try and disguise those disparaging words.
“How do you know each other?” Nick asked. “And where’s my hello, Bee Taylor?”
“Your hello is still waiting for that phone call.”
What the hell was going on with Bee and all the Reids. How did she know everyone?
“Seriously?” Laney asked Donovan of all people, and Donovan cryptically nodded yes.
Shit! When were these people going to clue me in on what’s going on, and why was I not included in this chain of emails???
“You Taylors don’t follow the norm, do you?” She said to him, again.
“We set the trend,” he answered with a smile and a wink to my cousin.
Laney rolled her eyes. “Are we decided on everything? Can I go home now? I still have a few more things to do for school.”
“We still have the issue of being 2 players short. Let us take a Reid.” Donovan demanded.
“Which Reid? We can’t give you Jake or Nick or even Doug.”
“That depends on whether we’re playing baseball or softball.”
“I think softball would be easier.” Jake made a unilateral decision.
“Then I want Delaney.” He looked at Laney and they both kind of had this weird understanding—that, once again, none of us understood.
Jake spoke, “I thought you’re going away this weekend.”
“Your buddy here is forcing me to stay. I did have a room and a round of golf provided for me in Scottsdale, but a certain someone won’t let me go.” She stuck her tongue out at Donovan.
“I’ll take you there myself.” Donovan said and imitated her look. We all laughed at him.
“Promises, promises,” she muttered and rolled her eyes.
Jake was our spokesperson again. “I guess we’re decided. 9:00 am, Saturday at my parents’ backyard?”
“We’ll all be there.” Donovan spoke for The Others.
Friday flew by and come Saturday morning, Mom and Aunt Babs had created a softball field for us. They brought out the old golf net to use as the backstop, and they also found the old bases we used to use. Dad bought a couple of t-ball sets for the twins to play with, and the two went crazy running around the “field.” They also had no clue what to do with the bat and ball, so instead, Emily would place a plastic ball on the tee, they would bat it with their hands, then they’d run around the tee like they were running the bases. James was the leader and Elizabeth followed his every move. It was p
recious. Funny thing, by the time people were arriving for the game, the twins were so exhausted, they fell asleep in the EZ-up tent.
“What the hell are The Others wearing?” Nick pointed to everyone not a Reid, who walked into the yard, together.
“Becky.” I called attention to my best friend. “What’s with the outfit?”
“Bee made us all these baseball shirts.”
We, Reids, all wore dark mismatched baseball pants, dark mismatched (again) socks and baseball shirts—you know those white ones with the colored sleeves and neckline, of course in all mismatched dark colors. The (freakin’) Others came in matching grey pants, the same type of white baseball shirts with dark blue trims and each shirt was customized. That damn Bee Taylor (who’s a clothes designer, by the way) sewed numbers, cut out from a cool gray-print fabric, and placed them on the left sleeve of the shirt. Then, the back of their shirts had their names sewn in with the same fabric. On the right sleeve of each shirt, there was a baseball diamond silkscreened on it and each person’s position was colored in. For instance, Max was going to play first base, so she colored in that base for his shirt. And to top it all off, they all had matching visors with the name The Others embroidered on the front. They looked like professional players. Why didn’t I think of doing something like that for my team?
“Shit, Bee. We look like some rag-tag Bad News Bears and you look like the freakin’ New York Yankees.”
“You know my motto. It’s all about how you look.”
“Tell me you don’t all have matching cleats.” I groaned when I saw the Davis brothers walking my way.
“Look at what Donovan got us.” Josh pointed to his flashy blue baseball cleats.
“He bought that for all of you?” Now, I was getting pissed. I never liked being underdressed and today, I was feeling like the homeless.
“He said he had a big name client who offered these to him when he told him about our game.”
“Damn Donovan Taylor! He couldn’t ask his client for a pair for all of us?”
“Why would I do that for the enemy?” Donovan let out an evil laugh. “We have a couple more players now. My dad and Mr. Davis want to play.”
I looked over at Max and he winked. “Really?” I whispered.
He nodded yes and smiled. This day was going to be awesome!
“Then what do we do about Laney?” I wondered since we, too, had gained Uncle Billy. “We all have nine players each. Now, Laney makes the tenth and she’s outfitted as an Other.”
After much discussion with Jake and Donovan, we decided to each have nine players on the field and use Laney as the tenth player. Without asking her, it was decided that she would pitch for both teams, since she was really the only one who’s ever pitched as a softballer. When she was told, Laney looked neither happy nor upset. She took one for both teams and accepted her fate. Bee had made a special shirt for her, knowing she would pitch for them. It was a real (pink) baseball Jersey with her name on the back, number and baseball diamond on the sleeves, and a phrase that said, don’t mess with me written in cursive, sewn across her chest. It was perfect for Laney!
Emily helped Jake into his catcher’s gear as The Reids took position in the outfield. Nick played first base, I took second, Doug took third, Uncle Billy took shortstop, Dad was in left field, Uncle Henry in centerfield, and Sam was placed in right field. Gimpy was to be the impartial ump, Mrs. Davis was our scorekeeper, and the moms were the cheering crowd.
First up to bat, Donovan Taylor. Jake walked out to Laney and gave instructions she didn’t like. She kept shaking her head in the negative and at one point laughed hysterically.
“Let’s get the game going before the sun goes down,” he yelled at Jake. Jake walked back to the catcher’s position with a cocky look on his face. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Delaney Reid. I plan to hit a home run off of you.”
And damn, he almost hit a home run on the first pitch. Laney threw a perfect fastball to him and he got a triple off it. Next up was my honey, and shit, he also got a triple off of us. Perhaps Laney was purposely giving them good pitches to put us in the doghouse. I was getting suspicious, but Doug and Josh struck out, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Davis each hit a single, and Bee hit a pop fly and the inning was done with only two runs in.
It was our turn to hit and Donovan was catching for their team. He, too, had a long talk with Laney and she listened to all he droned on about during their time. I think he purposely held his meeting on the mound as long as possible to piss off Jake. For The Others, their outfield line-up consisted of Max, Josh, Garret on the three bases, Al as shortstop, Mr. Taylor in left field, Mr. Davis in centerfield, and Becky and Bee would take turns subbing into right field. We were just as successful at bat, and we were up 4-2 at the end of the first inning.
And so this game continued and at the end of the 6th and last inning, we were up 10-9. There were two out, the tying run on third base and Donovan was up. Jake called a meeting on the mound with his infielders, and I heard him whisper, “Laney, you need to spook Donovan with a fast pitch and try and hit him. The closer you can get to his manhood, without actually hitting him, the better.”
“No way, Jake. I can’t control my pitches to that degree and I will NOT be responsible for his posterity.”
“You can do it. Just get close enough to scare him. He won’t swing after that. I promise you. Just try.”
“I don’t know, Jake...”
“You can do it, Laney. It’s all up to you,” her dad came to the mound to encourage her. “Just remember who you are. You are a Reid!”
What a crack-up! She was told in so many words to scare the shit out of Donovan by almost hitting him where it will hurt—badly.
The first pitch Laney threw was a ball and nowhere near his manhood. The second pitch was perfect! It was fast, and Donovan’s body formed an ending parentheses sign as he curved his body away from the ball. Laney quickly turned her body away from Donovan, put her mitt up to her face and giggled. Once she regained her composure, she turned back around and threw another strike, identical to the first one. This one too, was really close to his body. It was a 1-2 count on Donovan.
In a most unconventional move, Donovan called a timeout and walked out to the mound. Jake took off his mask to follow, but Donovan was done with his brief conversation before any of us could get to her. None of us knew what was said, but it rattled her enough to lob two balls. Now we were at full count and as soon as Donovan got himself back in the batter’s box, she caught him unready, threw out another fast pitch, and struck him out.
Donovan was shocked, The Reids were elated and the game was over. We won 10-9!
By the time the game was over, lunch was set up in Jake’s backyard, and the twins were already in their high chair noshing on fried chicken.
“James, Ellie, did you enjoy watching Daddy play?” Jake sat in between his kids and helped them eat. The kids had no clue what my brother was saying, but they smiled brilliantly at him and nodded yes. “Should we go swimming after lunch?” He asked the million-dollar question.
“Yawshhh,” James answered with excitement as his sister yelled, “ME!” That one word was her answer to everything.
“Let’s see which aunt or uncle might take you two in the pool. We have plenty of friends and family members to keep you occupied till dinner.”
“Yawshhh,” James repeated over and over.
“Janey, this was a fantastic idea. Let’s do this every year,” Mr. Taylor said from the other side of the long table.
