Page 44 of Double Play

He spits in front of me and then grunts, “If that fucker hits me again, we’re going to rumble.”

I smack my glove and hold it up for Quincy. After the third ball in a row, Whitaker mumbles, “What a pussy.” He side-eyes me and smirks. “Say hi to Arizona for me. I hope you’re enjoying my sloppy seconds.”

I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to kill this guy. It’s tempting to take him down right now, but what I have in mind will be much more satisfying.

After Quincy throws ball four, Whitaker takes first base. The douchebag flips his damn bat in triumph, like he hit a home run.

Through gritted teeth, I allow him to steal both second and third on the next two pitches, feigning fumbling with the ball. On the third pitch, I pretend like the ball got by me and run back to search for it. Whitaker takes the bait and sprints toward home.

With the ball in my glove, I run back toward home plate. We’re on a collision course. It’s like two trains about to meet on the same track. One is about to get derailed. It’s a matter of who will get there first and who will stand strong.

With my free hand, I squeeze my glove closed so the ball doesn’t fall out and lower my shoulders. We collide like two Mack trucks. You can hear a collective, “Ooh,” from the forty-five thousand fans in attendance.

Whitaker goes down. Hard. I don’t. I stand over him as he gasps for air, drop the ball on his chest like amicrophone, and calmly say, “Keep my girl’s name out of your mouth.”

I see Quincy smiling as he runs my way and practically jumps on my back. “Fuck yeah, brother.”

We start walking off the field toward our dugout with big, shit-eating grins on our faces. Whitaker is now sitting up with a trainer giving him attention. He shouts, “She sucks a great cock though, doesn’t she?”

My world stops in that moment. I can’t hear anything. All I see is red. Without another thought, I throw my glove to the ground and run toward him at full speed. I dive at his body like a linebacker tackling a running back, taking him back down to the ground. Quincy and I both get in several punches before our teammates and his pull us apart. Then insanity breaks loose with everyone on both teams trading punches. Our team against theirs.

That’s the thing about teammates. They don’t know what provoked the altercation with Whitaker, they just know we’re pissed at him and that’s enough reason to swing away at anyone wearing the opposing uniform.

The fans are going nuts. Bench-clearing brawls don’t happen often anymore, but when they do, the fans love it.

The officials and coaches eventually break us all apart. Fifteen minutes later, Whitaker, Quincy, and I are all ejected from the game.

ARIZONA

I’m sitting on my couch with my three best friends watching the funniest softball movie ever created.All-Starsis a mockumentary that came out about twelve years ago. It follows the families of an all-star softball team. The girls are ten years old, and they have crazy, overzealous helicopter parents. It’s dead-on accurate, and, despite having seen it at least fifty times, the four of us are hysterically laughing. My eyes are completely watering in laughter.

I shake my head. “This is the most underrated comedy of all time.”

Ripley smiles. “Totally. My mom made me sleep with my ball and glove like the father in the movie made his daughter sleep with the bat.”

Kam nods. “Our dad was like the stat-keeper, lunatic character. He knew every girl on the team’s exact stats at all times. He’d go nuts if the coach didn’t play them where he thought they should according to the precise stats.”

We’ve got piles of ice cream, popcorn, beer, and candy on the coffee table. I’m thankful to my friends for tonight. I couldn’t go to the game and see Marc. I’m okay, more than okay, with not being married to him. But it just reminds me of the fact that I know he never truly cared about me and, of course, about the baby I lost. A baby he never once cared enough to ask about. He probably assumes I had an abortion. Or maybe he doesn’t think about it at all. How could I have been so wrong about him?

Even though Ripley is the only one here that knows about the baby, Kam and Bailey know I don’t want to see Marc, and that’s enough reason for them to be here with me.

I can’t even watch the game, which is why Ripley suggestedthis movie. It never fails to make us belly laugh and forget anything weighing on us.

I saw the sadness in Layton today because I wasn’t coming. I felt terrible, but he doesn’t know it’s Marc Whitaker, and I see no reason to tell him. Hopefully Quincy will behave himself. I told him to stop beaning Marc every time he faces him.

Bailey turns to me. “Thanks for recommending me for the nanny job. I’m interviewing with the man and his daughter tomorrow. He said she loves softball. It could be fun. I need something to do in the off-season, and it’s only part-time since he has shared custody. It gives me the opportunity to work out and hang out with you guys. This could be perfect for me.”

“I thought of you as soon as he said his nanny quit. I met Harper. She’s adorable.”

Suddenly, all of our phones ping at the same time. We see a sports app notification that there was a big brawl at the Cougars game tonight. I breathe, “Oh shit. My brother probably beaned Marc and then the teams fought. He can’t afford to get suspended. I begged him not to. Turn on the game. Let’s see what happened.”

Ripley fiddles with the remote until she finds the right channel. There’s coverage of the fight at the Cougars game, but it’s not of my brother and Marc. It’s Layton. He cleaned Marc’s clock during a collision at home plate. Marc is a solid wall of muscle, but Layton put him right to the ground and then taunted him by dropping the ball on his chest. I think he spit on him too. I can’t make out what he said, but he definitely said something nasty to Marc. I guess Layton figured out who he was.

We see my brother practically skipping over to Layton in glee before they embrace. I get choked up with emotion for Layton. He did it for Quincy. So Quincy wouldn’t getsuspended.And I know in the back of my mind he did it for me too.

We see them then walking off the field. I shrug. “That’s not so bad. I wouldn’t call that a brawl. More like a one-sided beat down.”

That thought is short-lived because suddenly we see both Quincy and Layton sprint toward Marc and take turns punching him before it does, in fact, turn into a full-on brawl. Both teams are going at it, trading punches. It’s mayhem.

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