Chapter 18
“ W e want a pitcher, not a belly itcher; we want a catcher, not a belly scratcher.”
“You’re twelve,” Mattie called in answer to Paley’s song. “And you’re the pitcher.”
“He needs the full experience. That includes annoying, nonsensical songs,” Paley called. She, her brother, Clark, Mattie, and a group of Clark’s friends were showing Piedmont how to play baseball by forcing him to play a game of baseball.
“I’ve got it, I read all the books,” Piedmont had assured Paley who responded by rolling her eyes.
“You can’t learn how to play baseball by reading about it.”
“I can quote every rule as well as all the statistics for the last ten years,” he had said.
“Clearly you can learn, but those are only the technical aspects. You have to get the feel for the game,” she had argued.
“I did that when you made me watch A League of Their Own. There’s no crying in baseball. There, I’m all caught up on the feelings.”
That was when she rested her hands on his shoulders and gave him what he now called her “chicken and waffles” look. Whenever she got it, he knew he was about to lose. “Piedmont, you’re playing baseball.”
It wasn’t that he was averse to playing baseball. He was going to have to do it with the partners in his league, and it would be better to learn how to do it before an official game. It was that playing with her brother and Mattie and other friends made him nervous. They would undoubtedly judge him for his lack of knowledge on the sport. But Paley prevailed, and now he found himself in the outfield for his first ever inning of baseball. To his surprise, Paley was pitching.
“She didn’t tell you she played softball?” Mattie asked with a satisfied sort of grin that said he knew more about Paley than Piedmont ever would.
“We haven’t been doing a lot of talking lately,” Piedmont replied with a grin of his own. It was true; they’d resorted to a sort of half comfortable, half awkward silence since the night of the break in, the night of almost something.
Paley struck out the first three batters, and then it was Piedmont’s turn at bat. “Mattie, show him how to bat,” Paley called.
“Uh, no. You do it,” Mattie replied, handing her the bat as he passed her and headed to her spot on the pitcher’s mound.
“Like this,” Paley said, placing the bat in his hands and reaching around him to position his hands and elbows. “Easy ones,” she called to Mattie.
“This is so embarrassing,” Piedmont said.
“It’s all right. None of these guys would fare well going against you in court,” she assured him. Mattie lobbed a slow ball at him. Piedmont swung and missed. “You’re too tense, you’re choking up.” Paley reached around him again and corrected his stance. Mattie tossed another ball, and again Piedmont missed. “You’re still tensing.”
“I don’t know how not to tense when something is flying at my face,” he said.
She took the bat from him and held it. “Put your arms around me so you can see how it feels.”
“I learned that the other night,” he said.
“How it feels to hit the ball with the bat,” she clarified.
“Oh, right,” he said, sliding his arms around her.
“Feel the motion of your body as it swings, how it’s sort of pivoting into it, it’s a gentle sway, not a jerky, forced endeavor.” She nodded at Mattie who tossed the ball again. She hit it, and Piedmont could feel the difference this time, vicariously through her. “Did that help?”
“Hopefully because this is getting pathetic.”
“You’re fine, everybody is here to help,” she said, patting his back as she handed him the bat. Mattie tossed another ball. Piedmont hit it this time. It didn’t go exceptionally far, but Paley yelled for him to run as if he’d hit a homer. She and Mattie traded places, and the game continued. Whether on purpose or whether the players on his team were better, he was able to make it to home plate and score a run. After that they got out and switched places again.
“Paley asked me to teach you how to catch,” her brother, Clark, said. He was another surprise, tall, athletic, and good-looking, he had the innate confidence of a natural athlete. But like Paley he was nice, and there was none of the underlying tension he felt with Mattie. “Your glove needs to anticipate where the ball is going to land. Once the ball hits it, you bring it in to your body. Always protect your face.” Clark lobbed him an easy toss from a few feet away, and Piedmont caught it. Clark tapped his glove, and Piedmont threw it back. It went wide, of course, but Clark dove and caught it before it hit the ground.
Piedmont sighed. He would never be that guy, the sure-footed athlete.
“Is it true you graduated high school at twelve?” Clark asked.
“Yes,” Piedmont said. It was all he had, his genius intellect. Usually it was enough, but ever since Amelia married Ethan, he had noticed a glaring difference between himself and other men. And for the first time he found himself feeling insecure, wanting to be more than he was, wanting to be the guy who hit the home runs and caught the pop fly balls, who singlehandedly took down the bad guys and rescued the girl. What would he have done if the intruder had found them in the closet the other night? Would he have done everything in his power to protect Paley? And would it have been enough?
“Man, you graduated high school before you hit puberty, and you still turned out okay,” Clark mused.
“Well, I’m learning to play baseball at the age of twenty seven, so I wouldn’t say life’s been perfect,” Piedmont said.
“Lots of guys can’t play ball. But you’re the only one I know who’s a genius,” Clark said.
“Niceness must be in your blood,” Piedmont noted. It was the kind of thing Paley would say to him.
“I know some women who would disagree,” Clark said. They stood in the outfield and passed the ball a few times until Piedmont felt he had a better handle on catching. At least he was no longer afraid of the ball and knew how to protect his face. They switched to the dugout again, and all too soon it was his turn at bat.
Paley was still pitching. He took the bat and tried to remember to stand as she’d shown him. She motioned for him to raise it higher. He did so. She motioned again. He raised it higher. She motioned again. He raised it so high even he knew it was ridiculously out of place. She trotted over and hugged him, standing on her toes to whisper into his ear.
“Don’t take direction from the pitcher. She’s not on your team.” She let him go, pulled his bat back into position, and jogged back to the mound.
“Was that necessary?” he called.
“You still feeling nervous?” she answered and tossed the ball before he had time to reply. Instinct seemed to take over, and he hit it farther than before and ran to his base without being told.
Mattie was at first base. “Rookie mistake, Bonvoy. Paley plays dirty.”
“That’s fine, so do I,” Bonvoy replied and stole second.
Paley glanced at first, didn’t see him, and turned in surprise to second. “Is that how you want to play?”
“That’s how I want to play,” he returned.
“Very well,” she replied.
On his next turn at bat, he hit the ball, but Paley jumped and caught it. “That’s an out,” she called.
“I’m familiar with the rules,” he returned.
“But not the feelings they inspire,” she said.
He diverted from his trek to the dugout and ran out onto the mound instead, picking her up sideways and shaking her a few times for good measure.
“Roughing the pitcher,” she said. “Foul. Penalty.”
“None of those exist,” he said. He set her down and kissed her forehead.
“If we win, we’re all going to do that from now on,” one of his teammates called. “For luck.”
“You’ll have to catch me, and I’ve seen you run, Bones,” Paley replied.
“I like them feisty,” Bones muttered.
Me too, Piedmont thought. He didn’t realize this about himself until this moment, but he preferred women with zing and personality. Amelia’d had it, and so did Paley, though he felt like hers was buried beneath the layers of her painful divorce. He felt someone’s eyes on him and turned to see Mattie watching him, an inscrutable expression on his face.
After the game was over, Mattie, Clark, and Piedmont were invited to Paley’s parents’ house for supper. Mattie and Clark were laughing and chatty, but Piedmont and Paley were quiet, subdued, each nervous for their own reasons. Paley knew exactly what to expect, but Piedmont didn’t.
The house was like any other in the suburban Maryland neighborhood. Mattie was the one who opened the door for them, pausing in the entry to inhale the scent of homemade food.
“Mom, we’re here,” Clark called, following closely behind him.
A woman emerged from the kitchen and began giving hugs all around, first to Mattie, then to Clark, and finally to Paley. She stopped short in front of Piedmont, looking up at him in speculation. She was pleasant looking, like the sort of woman who smiled easily and said nice things often, slightly plump with glasses and curly dark hair like Clark’s.
“Mom, this is my boss, Piedmont Bonvoy. Piedmont, this is my mother, Allison.”
“Well, how do you do, Piedmont. It’s so nice to meet you. Paley’s told us a lot of wonderful things.” She squinted. “Except how young and handsome you are.” She tossed Paley an accusing glance.
“Subtle, Mom. Thanks for not making it awkward,” Paley said, and Clark and Mattie laughed.
“Why don’t you boys go call Dad and tell him supper’s ready?” Allison suggested.
“Dad, supper’s ready,” Clark yelled at the top of his lungs, causing Allison to jump and cast a furious glance on her youngest.
“I said go tell him, not bellow like a heathen,” Allison said.
“Do heathens bellow, Mom? I wouldn’t know,” Clark said, outlining a halo over his head.
Mattie snickered again. “I love it here.”
“And we love having you,” Allison said, reaching out to give his arm a loving pat. “Come on into the dining room now, everyone. Piedmont, please make yourself at home.”
“Thank you,” Piedmont said to her retreating backside. When Paley started to follow, he held her back. “She hates me.”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Paley said.
Piedmont nodded.
“She really doesn’t. She’s disturbed because you’re young. When I told her about you, I may have given her the impression you’re old.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I live with you, and I’m in the midst of a divorce she doesn’t want to happen. She has ideas about things, and they rarely ever involve reality. She’s now probably thinking you’re standing between me and my reconciliation with Aaron.”
“Doesn’t she know about the baby?”
“It’s hard to say. I told her, but what she allows to register and become reality in her world is impossible to guess,” Paley said. She sighed and linked her arm with Piedmont’s. “I did try to warn you they were different. Please believe me when I say it’s not you, it’s her. In time she’ll grow to love you, I guarantee it.”
“What can I do to speed the process along?”
“Nothing, you’re totally lovable,” she said, hugging him.
He returned her hug. “I’m going to bring you to your hometown more often if it has this effect on you. That’s twice today you’ve hugged me.”
“I suppose it does make me a tad more affectionate, being surrounded by familiar things and people.”
“That settles it, we’re moving in with your parents,” he declared. Paley laughed and everyone paused to look at them as they walked into the dining room, still arm in arm.
“You sure about that plan?” she asked.
“Maybe hold off a bit,” Piedmont replied, and Paley nodded her agreement.