Raz had laughed it off. I’m fine being a dumb jock, Mom. And I’m so much hotter than Ryan.
Susan squared her shoulders, putting the memories from her mind. She felt exhausted after the endless night at the police station. She’d called a lawyer who had negotiated a plea agreement. Ryan would be charged with a misdemeanor and sentenced to probation, a fine, and restitution. The lawyer had said this will go away, but Susan felt absolute mortification. She’d called her boss to apologize, Community Relations to make a general statement, and her assistant to let her know that she was taking a personal day. By noon, Ryan’s mug shot was on TV news. Her reliable son, who never gave her a moment’s worry until his face was above the red banner, ValleyCo Vandal.
She passed the high school, a massive redbrick complex with two new wings, their construction supported by developers like ValleyCo. Susan herself had arranged for the top ValleyCo brass to be at the ground-breaking, posing with shiny shovels. She used to feel proud she worked for ValleyCo, but now she felt guilty. She had to scale back. Something had to give.
She approached the crowd of parents clustered to the left of the dugout, watching the game. It seemed like a big crowd, maybe fifty people standing, sitting in blue-cloth sling chairs, or eating the food that covered a long picnic table against the dugout wall. Susan reached the fringe of the crowd, still not able to see the pitcher’s mound. She didn’t know any of the other parents, so she didn’t try to talk to them.
Joyful cheering came from the students hanging onto the cyclone fence, and Susan walked around the back of the crowd to home plate, behind the super-tall cyclone fence, angled down at the top. A player from the other team was at bat, and though Susan didn’t remember who they were, they had on bright red uniforms, so she could tell the difference. That meant the Musketeers were pitching.
Susan kept walking and got a view of the pitcher’s mound. Raz wasn’t pitching, and Jordan was, in his place. She felt terrible for Raz. The change to the lineup would’ve been another blow, when he was least able to deal with it. This morning before he’d left for school, he’d looked as exhausted, raw, and ragged as she had been. He’d skipped breakfast and left with his long hair dripping wet from the shower, making a soggy collar of his Musketeers baseball T-shirt, which he practically lived in.
Susan looked over at the dugout, and at this angle, she could see Raz silently watching the game from a folding chair behind the Musketeers cheering at the fence.
“Susan?” said a voice beside her.
Susan turned, but didn’t recognize the woman approaching her, a pretty, heavyset mom with a halo of blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and a sweet, if concerned, smile. She had on a Musketeers sweatshirt and jeans, which was obviously the right thing to wear at the game, because the other parents had on team logowear. Susan was wearing the black cable sweater and khakis she wore on casual Friday at work.
“I’m Mindy Kostis. Good to see you again.”
“Oh, Mindy, right. Hi.” Susan raced to remember what Neil had told her about Mindy. Nice lady, doctor husband, popular son. Evan was the catcher. Raz talked about Evan, too, though Susan got the impression that Evan was too popular a kid to be friendly with Raz.
“I just wanted to tell you, I’m so sorry.” Mindy’s face flushed with genuine emotion.
“Thanks.” Susan swallowed hard, unsure what she meant. Ryan? Neil? Pick a calamity, any calamity.
“Neil was such a terrific guy. He used to help me so much at the games. We’re all missing him today. I know you must be, most of all.”
“Thank you.” Susan’s throat thickened. Meanwhile, if Mindy knew about Ryan, it didn’t show. Maybe this was the best way to handle the situation, just pretend it hadn’t happened.
“The Boosters would like to make an impromptu memorial to Neil at the end of the game, if that’s okay with you. I didn’t know you were coming today, so I took the liberty of asking Raz and he was fine with it.”
“Of course, thanks.” Susan felt gratitude, and dread, both at once.
“Would you like to say a few words at the ceremony?”
“No, no, thank you.” Susan couldn’t, not today, not ever. She had been a mess at the funeral. She realized she was still a mess.
“Then I will, don’t worry about it. I know what to say.” Mindy patted her arm, frowning in a sympathetic way. “How have you been?”
Susan didn’t know how to answer. Mindy seemed to want an honest answer, but it wasn’t the time or the place to open up. Susan didn’t know if she needed to make a friend among the moms, or even how to start. It always seemed like a clique she wasn’t a part of, though Neil had been, ironically. Besides, she doubted they had anything in common. Mindy was the Queen Bee of the Boosters with a perfect life, as compared with the Sematov Shit Show.
“Fine, thanks,” Susan answered, turning away.
Chapter Nineteen
Chris thought the scene at the baseball game looked typically suburban. The sun shone high in a cloudless sky, and cheering spectators clustered around a perfect baseball diamond and a lush green outfield. He understood why baseball was America’s pastime, but it just wasn’t his. Sports bored him. He preferred higher stakes.
Chris coached third base, and Jordan had been striking out one batter after the next, until the third inning, when one of the Upper Grove batters connected and the ball hopped into the infield. Jordan had fielded it on the fly and thrown it to first base in the nick of time, and the crowd went crazy. The Musketeers players cheered for him almost constantly, yelling at the top of their lungs, shouting “Jordan, Jordan!” “Number 12” “Get it!” and “Bring it!”
“Strike three!” barked the umpire, ending the inning.
Jordan and the rest of the team jogged toward the dugout, and Chris jogged in after them. Raz, who’d subbed in the outfield, was up next in the batting order, and the team cheered for him, shaking the cyclone fence in front of the dugout. One of the Musketeers played Raz’s walk-up music on the boombox, and the team went crazy, rapping at the top of their lungs.
The Upper Grove pitcher threw a fastball, and Raz swung quickly, missing.
“Strike one!” barked the umpire.
Jordan and the Musketeers cheered louder. “You can do it!” “Shake it off!” “You got this, you got this!”
The Upper Grove pitcher threw another fastball, and Raz swung again, missing.
“Strike two!” yelled the umpire.
The Musketeers hollered, “Cool down, Raz!” “Wait for your pitch!”
Chris noticed two moms cheering for Raz behind the fence and he recognized them from his research—Evan’s mother Mindy and Raz’s mother Susan. He’d been hoping to meet Jordan’s mom Heather, but she wasn’t here, and he assumed she was at work.
The next pitch flew across the plate, and Raz swung wildly, missing yet again.