Page 58 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
“Pointers? No. I needyou. Tonight. Five fifteen. Northeast field. Diamond three. Wear something blue. You owe me.”
Henry sputtered a drink of coffee. “For what?” He grabbed a paper towel and dabbed the front of his shirt.
“For rehabilitating you. You’d be wheelchair-bound if it wasn’t for me.”
“I’m pretty sure the orthopedic surgeon played a minor role in that process.”
“Yeah? Well, was it your orthopedic surgeon’s front door you showed up to the other night ranting like a lunatic about old ladies and mystery ladies and bombshell ladies? No. It was mine. Because we’re friends. And friends help coach their friend’s girlfriend’s daughter’s Little League baseball teams.”
“Daughter? This is a girl’s league?”
“See you at five fifteen. Don’t be late. My smooching lips are depending on you,” Lance called over his shoulder on his way toward the front door.
“That’s disturbing,” Henry called back. “You’re disturbing.”
“So are you, Henry. That’s why we’re such good friends.” The door slammed shut a second later.
Henry glanced at his watch. Looked at his coffee-splattered shirt. He had time to change, but he’d better be quick. He shook his head and dumped the rest of his coffee down the sink. And he supposed he’d better wear something blue.
Coaching girl’s baseball had to be better than coming home to an empty house.
“How do I look?” Lance asked out the side of his mouth as soon as Henry arrived at the ball diamond at 5:15 sharp. “Do I look like a baseball coach?”
Lance was wearing a green visor hat, a blue polo shirt, tight white baseball pants that stopped at his knees, and a pair of stirrup socks. He’d painted a black stripe beneath each eye and wore a whistle around his neck.
“Ready for the big leagues,” Henry said.
“The coach sent me the starting lineup. But he didn’t send any playbook.”
“There’s no playbook.”
“But there’s signs, right?” Lance tugged on his right earlobe. “Steal first.” He tugged on his left earlobe. “Don’t steal first.” He jiggled both earlobes. “Follow your heart and steal first if that’s what your heart is telling you.”
“Okay.” Henry shoved the whistle into Lance’s mouth. “How about you blow on that and tell the girls to use the bathroom before the game starts. Pretty sure that’s our number one concern at this point.” When Lance saidLittle League, Henry had pictured eleven- and twelve-year-old girls. Not four- and five-year-olds. He should have known better than to think Lance knew what he was talking about.
“On it.” Lance blew the whistle. Then from somewhere he pulled out a megaphone. “Attention, blue team. Hit the latrine now or forever hold your bladder.”
When none of the girls made a move to hit the restrooms, Lance lifted the megaphone again. “Everybody go potty.”
He elbowed Henry as a dozen girls giggled and raced past them to the concession stand area, where the bathrooms were. “This is kind of fun. I sort of feel like Tom Hanks inA League of Their Own.”
Henry yanked the megaphone away. “You are not Tom Hanks. If anything, I’m Tom Hanks.”
“Then who am I?”
“I don’t know.” Henry looked him over again. “The bus driver?”
Lance chirped on the whistle. “Technical foul, Henry.One more and I’m kicking you out of the game.” Lance’s gaze swept past Henry and his voice lowered. “Oh, boy, she’s here. Okay, stay cool. Don’t be an idiot. She’s walking this way. Check your fly. Make sure it’s closed. Just be discreet about it.”
“You always give yourself pep talks?”
“Me? I’m talking to you. It’s your bombshell girlfriend. And your fly is definitely open.”
“Huh?” Henry spun around. Sure enough, Edith was walking toward them. She smiled and tried brushing her bangs to the side. They immediately fell back across her forehead. Henry shoved the megaphone back at Lance and fumbled with the front of his pants, glancing down. “My fly is not open,” he hissed.
“Got my megaphone back, didn’t I?” Lance waved to Edith. Some of the girls were already returning from the bathroom. Lance lifted the megaphone to his mouth. “All right, blue team. Head to the dugout. First one there gets to be catcher.” The girls continued walking. “Oookay, first one there gets an extra Popsicle.”
The girls took off running. Walking backwards, Lance gave Henry a thumbs-up. “I think I’m already getting the hang of this.”
