Page 74 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“What does it say?” Carina wonders. I show her the message while taking a big gulp of my margarita and signaling for another.

5:44 PM

Unknown Number

Hello, my beautiful daughter. It’s your mom. I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I miss you and would like to reconnect. I heard through the grapevine that you are in Tennessee with your cousin now. I would love it if you would come visit me in Florida soon. I also heard that you are dating a baseball player whose team is playing in my town next weekend. If you are tagging along, I would love to see you! We have a lot to catch up on. I miss you dearly. I am clean now and living with my boyfriend. He is a successful businessman.

Please let me know if you are able to come. I will rearrange whatever I need to see you.

“Ugh,” I groan. “Of course, she’s in Miami and we’ll be there over the weekend. What do you think she wants?”

“I don’t know. Money, maybe? Isn’t that what she was always after?”

“It used to be. I don’t want to deal with it right now. Or at all. Does that make me a terrible person? I hardly have any memories of the woman and the ones I have are mostly negative.”

Carina gives me a sympathetic expression. “I’m sorry, Bunny. It does not make you a bad person. I wonder how she knew you were with Miller. It’s a crazy coincidence that we will be in Miami with the boys. We almost never travel for the games but after the fun you and Tiffany had last year, we had to go again.”

“That is an excellent question,” I comment. “How does she know about me and Miller?” I think back to his social post and the subsequent news stories about our relationship. He is in the public eye, but the country at-large isn’t all that interested in who baseball players are dating unless the partner is a pop star or something.

“Only way to find out is to respond,” Carina comments.

“Do you think I should?”

“I can’t answer that for you,” she says. “I know how important my mom is to me, but I also know Tammy is nothing like her. I would have told the old you, ‘no,’ but you’re different since the divorce – stronger. Maybe the universe is offering you an opportunity to have the relationship you never had or to close the door for good.”

Carina pauses and scrunches her nose. “Oh my God. Do NOT tell Tiffany I talked about signs from the universe. She will never let me live it down!”

I laugh because she is absolutely right. Tiff is constantly talking to us about the universe and manifestation. She is also right about me being stronger and different since the divorce. With my new journey came a new philosophy. I’m on some new shit. I’ve been saying yes instead of no, and it has opened my life up to some amazing things. Maybe this will be one of them.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to determine that meeting up with my mother isnotan opportunity from the universe for something great. As I sit across from a woman I barely recognize, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. The years and the drugs have not been kind to her. She looks at least a decade older than her fifty-three years.

Even though I told him he didn’t have to come, Brady is sitting beside me in this grimy diner as we talk to my mom and her boyfriend, Rick. Mom was using the term ‘businessman’ liberally when describing him. He doesn’t have the image of any businessman I’ve ever met. He’s roughly her age with a beer belly and receding hairline. He gives off a George Costanza vibe if George was a giant creep and had a glandular problem. The man has been stealing lecherous glances at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.

Brady has definitely noticed. His arm has been protectively on my leg since we sat down and I’m surprised he hasn’t bent his fork with how tight his grip is. I sense him tense before I even notice Rick’s eyes on me again. I am mortified that Brady is meeting my mother. I should have insisted I come alone but the glare he gave me when I suggested it told me there was a fat chance of that happening. Luckily, he has to be at the ballpark for a 3:00 p.m. game, meaning we can end this uncomfortable breakfast soon.

“You mentioned in your texts that you have taken up gardening since moving here. Do you grow anything in particular? Aunt Teresa has one and Carina brought some herbs and veggies back earlier this summer.”

“Good to hear Teresa is still working on her sainthood,” my mother sneers, sardonically. “I mostly grow flowers and other plants. Nothing food. Though, I guess you could put some of it in food if you wanted.”

“Flowers are great in food. I have become fond of lavender in my coffee,” I chirp, dumbly. The corner of Brady’s lip tips up like he is in on a joke I am not. In a matter of seconds, though, I am enlightened.

“Your mom has a real green thumb,” Rick remarks over his mouth full of scrambled eggs. “Her plants are going to bring us in a pretty penny when Florida legalizes weed beyond medical use.”

I still when I realize the implication. She’s growing Marijuana. My drug addict mother is growing Marijuana. I don’t have anything against it or anyone who uses it but she made it explicitly clear to me she was on the up and up. Her illegally growing pot was not on my bingo card.

“I thought you were clean?” I ask.

She has the decency to appear sheepish before she replies. “I am. Everyone knows pot doesn’t count. And I don’t sample the product… much – just enough to make sure it’s effective.”

Seeing that I am lost for words, Brady jumps in and changes the subject. “How long have you been in Florida, Tammy?”

“I moved here about three years ago. I met Rick when he was on a business trip and it seemed like a good place to start fresh. I’d been bouncing around for a while and wanted something more permanent.”

“So, you have been together for three years, then?” He follows up.

“Around that,” she answers. “What about you two? I was surprised when I saw pictures of you together in that magazine spread of Carina’s wedding. Last I heard you were married to an accountant. That sounds more your speed. It’s hard to imagine the little girl who made ‘grass angels’ on the soccer field would date a professional athlete.”

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