Playing the Field (13 page)

* * *

During dinner that night, I announced my
study arrangements. “It’s not a date,” I told my mother pointedly.
“If we were planning to do anything fun, you could veto it, but
we’re just studying algebra.”

Mom took a drink from her glass. “Ah, this
subject again.” She looked over at my father. “It’s your turn to
tell him the reason why he can’t date. He obviously doesn’t listen
to me.”

Dad cut through his piece of chicken and took
a bite. When he’d finished chewing, he said, “You can’t date
because I said so, and I don’t need a reason because I’m your
father.”

Mom cut a piece of her own chicken. “Thanks.
I’m sure that cleared it up for him.”

“She’s a really nice girl,” I said. “And
she’s a straight-A student. That means she’s a good influence on
me.”

“All good qualities in a friend,” Mom
said.

“You’ll probably think she’s wonderful once
she comes over and you get to know her. I mean, I bet she’ll remind
you of your old friends, or your sisters, or someone you liked a
whole lot.”

Mom took another drink.

“Did I mention she was a straight-A
student?”

Mom glanced over at Dad with an exasperated
look, but he quickly took another bite of his chicken so he didn’t
have to say anything.

Mom tapped a finger against the table for a
moment, then looked over at me with that parent-lecturing look.
“You want to be Serena’s friend for the long run, right?”

“Sure.”

“Then don’t date her now. At your age that’s
the fastest way to ruin a friendship.”

“Why?”

“It just is. You’ll understand when you get
older.”

I hated it when my parents said that. I was
convinced it was something old people said when they couldn’t think
of any reasons to defend their point view. They figured we’d forget
about all these explanations as time went by. I decided to start
making a list.

The telephone rang, and Dad went into the
kitchen to answer it. I ate my chicken silently and let Kirk jabber
on about kindergarten. It was pointless to push the topic any
farther with Mom. I was going to have to wait until Serena came
over to my house and mom got to see what an intelligent, mature,
and responsible person she was.

Dad came back to the table, smiling and
shaking his head. “Well McKay, I have to admit it. You were right.
Mr. Manetti just called and volunteered to buy a reverse osmosis
from me.”

I smiled back at him. “See. I told you he
would. When do you get the two hundred dollars?”

“Well, I didn’t actually sell him a Hendricks
RO.”

“That’s true. So when do I get the two
hundred dollars?”

Dad laughed. “No, I mean I told him to go
down to Home Depot and pick up one there. They’re not quite as
fancy as the Hendricks systems, but they do the job. No sense in
paying twice the money for one.”

I stared at him as though he hadn’t said
this, as though in a moment he’d tell me he was joking. “You told
him what?”

“He was a little worried he wouldn’t be able
to install it himself, so I told him I’d come over and put it in
for him.”

“You told him what?”

“What are you surprised about, McKay? You’re
the one who told him he should get an RO in the first place.”

“But not a Home Depot RO,” I said. “He was
supposed to buy a Hendricks RO so you could get the bonus.”

Dad cocked his head. “You wouldn’t want your
coach to pay extra for something just so I can make a few bucks,
would you?”

Yes, I would. Only I didn’t say it. Saying it
out loud would make me sound as selfish as I suddenly felt. The
truth was the Manettis had plenty of money, and we didn’t. Why
shouldn’t they buy a Hendricks RO?

I looked over at Mom to see what her reaction
to this. Mom, who always complained there wasn’t enough to account
for in the bank account, didn’t seem disturbed that Dad had just
thrown away two hundred dollars. She calmly took another bite of
her salad.

Dad picked up his fork and cut into his
chicken. “You don’t make money off your friends. Friends help one
another out.”

“I know,” I said. “And Coach Manetti was
helping us out.”

“We don’t need that kind of help,” Dad
said.

I looked over at Mom. She nodded in
agreement. Two hundred dollars would have bought a lot of paint and
curtain material for the office, but she was still nodding.

All right. My parents didn’t want to feel
like a charity case. I could understand that. But still, all was
not lost. “I guess I can see why you don’t want to sell an RO to
Coach Manetti, but that doesn’t mean you can’t sell ROs to anyone
else, does it?”

“Nobody else has called for one.”

I kept my voice even to make Dad realize I
was serious. “It wouldn’t be that hard for you to sell a few ROs
every once in a while, would it?”

Dad put his fork down. “Why is it you
suddenly want me to sell ROs?”

“So you can get the bonuses.”

“And why do you think I need those?”

“So you and Mom will stop worrying about
money all of the time.”

Dad looked over at Mom. She blushed a little.
“We don’t worry about money all of the time.”

Now Dad and I both looked over at her. She
sat up a little straighter in her chair. “What?” she said.

Neither Dad nor I answered.

She put down her fork. “All right, I admit I
talk about wanting more money sometimes, but everyone does that. It
doesn’t mean I think we’re destitute.”

“Well, apparently our son thinks it,” Dad
said. His brows furrowed together for a moment as though something
had just occurred to him. “McKay, would these worries of yours have
anything to do with the fact that Grandma just sent us a check for
two hundred dollars in an early birthday card?”

“Uh, well, maybe. I did try to sell her a
Reverse Osmosis a while back.”

Dad put his face in his hands, then looked
over at my mother. “I told you we should have called and insisted
she tell us what that was all about.” He shook his head. “You get
to call and tell her we’re not homeless yet.”

“Don’t blame me for this,” she told him. “I’m
not the only one who complains about money. You’re the one who
makes an issue every time I buy anything.”

“You’re doing it again,” I said. “You’re
fighting about money.”

Dad ran his fingers over his head and then
sighed. He glanced over at Mom, then back at me. “Maybe we do argue
about money sometimes, and maybe we wish we had more. But nobody
has enough money for all of their wants. We have enough for our
needs, and that’s what’s important.”

I pushed a piece of chicken around on my
plate. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a little more every once in a
while, would it? Tony’s dad could teach you how to sell stuff. He’s
really good at it.” And then to prove the point, I added, “He
drives a BMW.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m not a salesman. I
could never do it. I hate to feel like I’m pushing something on
someone that they don’t really want. That’s just not me.”

“And I’m glad it’s not you.” Mom smiled over
at him. “You’re the type of person who is always genuine, and I
love you for it.” Now she smirked at him. “Even if you don’t drive
a BMW.”

Dad grunted. “It would be a little awkward to
lug all my tools around in a luxury car.”

And then they both laughed. It was nice to
see them that way, and I told myself to remember that for every
time they fought about money, there were also these times they
joked about it. It made me feel better, even though I knew we would
never have a BMW or bigger house.

Chapter 11

That night, while Tony and I warmed up on the
outfield before the game, I noticed Anna sit down on the front row
of the bleachers. “Hey, Tony,” I said, “part of your fan club is
here.”

He looked over to where she sat and waved.
She smiled and waved back.

When we finished with warm-ups, we still had
a few minutes before the game began, so we walked over to say
hi.

“Where are Serena and Rachel?” I asked.

Anna shrugged. “I don’t know, at home, I
guess.” Which meant she had come on her own, and they didn’t know
she was here.

I didn’t say anything else. I just stood by
stiffly and listened while Anna and Tony smiled and talked to each
other about the game. Anna giggled a lot. She also wished Tony good
luck three times.

I thought back to my conversation with
Serena, when I couldn’t come up with proof that Anna was chasing
Tony. This was proof, and yet I still couldn’t make my point. To
tell Serena about Anna’s visit seemed too much like tattling.

After a few more minutes of watching Tony be
funny, honest, attractive, understanding, and loyal—well, maybe not
loyal—I decided Anna and Tony were too wrapped up talking to each
other to care whether I was standing there or not. I saw my family
sitting a little way off in the bleachers, so I went over to talk
to them. Dad gave me his usual pep talk: “You can win this game,
son. Just play hard and concentrate.”

“Remember,” Mom told me, “it doesn’t matter
if you win or not so long as you do your best.”

Kirk said, “When those guys run past you,”—he
made jogging arm motions to make sure I understood—“trip them.”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” Mom told him.

“Then how about you push them?” Kirk
said.

Finally, Coach Manetti told the team to take
our seats on the bench, and I forget all about who was or wasn’t in
the crowd. That is, until we came to bat in the top of the second
inning. Then I glanced up at the bleachers and noticed not only
Anna sitting there, but also Rachel and Serena. And none of them
looked very happy. Rachel’s arms were crossed, and she was tapping
her foot quickly against the bleacher. Anna sat a little apart from
the other two and stared blankly at the field. Serena just looked
uncomfortable, and no one was speaking to anyone else.

“Tony,” I said. “Did you notice the rest of
your fan club showed up?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound
enthusiastic about the fact. A couple of minutes later he went up
to bat and missed two easy pitches. I held my breath while the
pitcher threw the third pitch. The ball flew toward the plate, a
little high, but still within the strike zone. Tony swung and
missed again. He tossed his head back, groaned, and then dropped
the bat less gently than he should have. He walked slowly back to
the rest of the team and took his place at the end of the bench.
When he sat down, he leaned over and covered his face with his
hands.

“Don’t worry,” I called over to him. “In a
minute I’m going to hit everyone home.”

Tony’s dad had been standing away from the
bench, but now he walked over and stood in front of Tony. “What
happened out there?”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t know.”

But I knew. Tony was too busy concentrating
on the competition going on in the bleachers to think about the
competition on the field.

“We can’t afford to give outs away,” Coach
said. Then he looked at me. “Come on, McKay, you’re up after
Johnson.”

I walked out to the field, picked up my bat,
and swung it in practice a few times. This hit had to be great.
This hit would be for Tony, so his dad would stop thinking about
his strikeout.

Johnson hit a blooper to left field, then
jogged to first base. With his face still red from the run, he took
a one-step lead off the base and stood paused, watching me.

I stepped up to the plate and focused on the
pitcher. He pulled back and threw. I swung and hit. I could tell
from the sound of the ball hitting the wood, from the sting of the
ball against my bat, that the hit was a good one. The ball soared
past the outfielders and bounced down in far left field. I sprinted
around the bases, with each breath forcing myself to go faster. It
looked like it was going to be close when I came around third base.
One of infielders had the ball and was throwing it in. Still, I
pushed on and with one last surge of energy, slid into home plate.
I felt a glove come down on my side, but only after I’d grabbed
onto the plate. I was safe, and a moment later the umpire gave the
safe sign.

I stood up, brushed myself off, then walked,
breathless, back to the bench. The team all hollered and gave me
high fives. Tony gave me two.

The rest of the game went by quickly. When it
was over, we’d won by five runs. It was a great feeling to walk off
the field.

All three girls came over to congratulate
us.

“Great game,” Serena told me.

“I’m glad I came to see it,” Rachel said, and
she glared at Tony.

“Uh, thanks,” Tony said. He looked from
Rachel to Anna and back.

Anna didn’t say anything, but she
blushed.

“Well, we’ve got to leave now,” Serena said,
and before anyone else could say anything, she and Rachel walked
off.

“I’d better go too,” Anna said. She went in a
different direction.

Tony watched her for a moment. “Man, that was
uncomfortable. I guess I should have checked to see whether Rachel
was coming before I invited Anna to watch the game.”

“You invited her?” I grabbed Tony’s baseball
cap off his head and leaned toward him as if I was examining him.
“Stand still, I’m checking to see if you have any brain cells
left.”

Tony grabbed the hat back from me and put it
on his head. “I invited her because she likes baseball.”

“Oh sure, just like Jenna does.”

“Actually,” Tony said, “it’s over between
Jenna and Adam.”

“Did he find her out?”

“No, she finally came to the conclusion he
could never love her as much as he loves Babe Ruth. She decided she
no longer wanted to take the backseat to a dead baseball
player.”

My family found me then, and I got
congratulated some more. Dad said, “I knew you could pull it off.”
Mom said, “You played great.” Kirk said, “We won! We won! We
won!”