“Not really,” Della shrugged, and threw Rachel a grounder.
The Winsome thing was new information to Laverna, but she had bigger things to worry about.
Bucky called for the coaches. After the coin toss, the game began.
Not surprisingly, the Ellis Talc Miners were sluggers, and smashed each pitch thrown their way. This made up for their clumsy fielding. They moved like burly teenaged boys, sloppy and muscle-bound. They also behaved like teenaged boys, leering at Rachel’s exposed bra straps and tan legs. Laverna was thankful that Shyanne wasn’t there. Rachel could handle this sexual harassment, as she was a bartender.
The Flood Girls held their own. Tabby somehow managed a triple and made her way around the bases with surprising speed, despite the two packs of cigarettes she smoked each and every day. She caught her breath and fanned herself on third. This was Tabby’s first triple, and she was so preoccupied that she almost forgot to run to home after a soaring hit from the taller Sinclair, deep into left field.
The run tied the game up. Laverna knew the importance of this game, as it was her job to keep track of such things, but didn’t say anything to her team. She didn’t want to jinx it. She looked up at the bleachers, and Jake was grinning. He had done the math.
The miners then inched ahead by one, a line drive that passed right through Ronda’s legs, and Rachel surprised them all by running, galloping, to scoop it up and throw it. She actually threw it to Tabby at the cutoff, but not before the miners scored.
At the bottom of the sixth inning, Laverna was distracted. Krystal stood outside the dugout, waiting quietly for Laverna to notice her. Laverna supposed that Krystal had come to the softball game for the first time this year to show her support for her son. Laverna was wrong. When she finally turned around to acknowledge Krystal, a folded-up piece of paper was shoved through the chain link. Krystal said nothing. Laverna plucked the paper, as Krystal had left it to dangle there. It was a check for one thousand dollars.
“I’m trying to make things right,” said Krystal. “It’s been eating at me for years.”
Laverna shoved the check into her pocket and turned back to the game, refusing to acknowledge Krystal’s explanation. Laverna knew; she had always known.
Instead, Laverna listened to Krystal walk away. Secretly satisfied, she shouted for the benefit of the fans in the bleachers. “WHY DOES EVERYBODY KEEP FUCKING WITH ME?”
She glanced over her shoulder, and Krystal had reentered the bleachers, her head hung down as she took a seat beside her son.
The Flood Girls had the last at bat. Diane made it to second base, thanks to the slothful infield, and Martha Man Hands struck out.
Laverna placed an arm on Ronda’s giant shoulder, as her cook warmed up by swinging two bats at the same time, always a bruiser.
“You’ve got this,” said Laverna. Ronda, expressionless as usual, just handed Laverna the extra bat and marched grimly to home plate. Laverna was on the verge of needing an antianxiety pill, but Ronda entered the batter’s box stoically, no fear registering on her face. Laverna watched the outfield back up toward the fence—when Ronda beat her bat on home plate, they backed up even farther.
Ronda stepped into the batter’s box and swung with all her considerable might, the ball sailed over the fence, and the game was over.
The Flood Girls won, nine to eight.
Jake came running into the dugout, and as expected, he had done the math. He jumped up and down as the Flood Girls gathered around Laverna. Math had never been their strong suit, but they knew something was different.
“We’ve made it!” Laverna put an arm around Ginger, kissed Tabby on the cheek. “The Flood Girls are headed for the tournament!”
The old men in the bleachers continued to applaud, even as the crowd dispersed. Bucky threw his cap into the air. The Flood Girls were shocked, but hoisted their coach up in the air, Red Mabel doing all of the heavy lifting.
Lucky
Jake’s thirteenth birthday was on the second day of August. School was still out, and he was thrilled to finally, officially, be a teenager, although he wasn’t expecting much.
It took him almost an hour to dress and prepare himself for this auspicious day. He knew there was no party planned. Unlike his classmates, there would be no roller rink rented for an afternoon, or a trip to the water slides in Spokane.
Jake decided on white linen. He had the pants, and a short-sleeved button-down. It was not muddy, and this was one of the five months of the year that didn’t seem like winter. White linen would be safe, because the sun had finally come out to stay in Quinn.