7. Mia
Chapter 7
Mia
T his afternoon flew by and now I’m at my very first kickball practice. This time, my GPS gave me the right directions, and I was able to find Hibiscus Harbor Park easily.
I’ve been sitting on the bench in the dugout with a few other women as one-by-one, more show up.
“Hi there. It’s our first time.” One woman says as she and her friend walk into the dugout. “What?” She asks her friend that’s giving her a dirty look.
“You don’t have to announce that it’s our first time to the entire team.” Her friend says.
“Actually, it’s my first time, too.” A blond at the other end of the bench says.
“Me, too.” Another girl says and then everyone nods.
“See? We’re fine.” The first girl scolds her friend.
A lady with a clipboard approaches the front of the dugout, “Good evening, ladies. I’m Sunni and the captain of this kickball team. Thank you for coming out. Has anyone played kickball in the last ten years?” I look around at the other women on this bench and see that no one else raises their hand, either. Good; then I’m not the only one who hasn’t played since elementary school.
“No worries, neither have I, but I have read the manual. We have twelve people here and that’s the perfect number of players. I mean, we could play with less if we had to, but I’m glad you all signed up and showed up.” Sunni continues. “Now, how about we go down the line and tell everyone your name and I’ll check you off my list here.” She points to her clipboard.
“I’ll start. I’m Sunni and as a day job, I’m a nurse at Hibiscus Memorial. You?” She points to one of the women that just sat down.
“I’m Grace and I’m an accountant.”
“I’m Kate and I own the Bean and Bagel.”
“Oh my god, I love your coffee.” One of the other girls says.
“Thank you.”
Sunni smiles at me. “I’m Mia and I’m a receptionist at Hibiscus Island Country Club.”
“I’m Becky and I’m the manager at the animal shelter.” Ah, she’s the one I’ll be working with when I volunteer. Good to know. Making friends. One of my three points of getting my shit together.
“Hi, I’m Kelly and I bartend at Shooters on the Beach.”
“Oh, I’m next. Okay. Hello, I’m Kendall and I’m a property manager for the county buildings.”
“I’m Molly and I work in marketing.”
Sunni points to the next girl. “Oh, yeah. I’m Brooke and I’m a teacher at Hibiscus Elementary school. Go tigers.” I laugh because she makes a tiger paw and claws the air.
The next girl laughs too, “I’m Riley and I’m an event planner. Call me if you have any events that need planning.”
“We should talk after this.” The girl next to Riley says and then turns to Sunni, “Hi. I’m Charlie and I’m a private chef.”
“Hi, I’m Kennedy and I’m an attorney.”
“Okay. Great. That’s twelve, one more than needed, so good. Now, I want to set some ground rules. There is absolutely no drama allowed. We are a team, and we will work as a team. We support each other and give only constructive criticism. Nothing more. If you want to bring drama here, then please find another team to join because that’s not how the Bad News Babes will be run. Do we all agree?”
I instantly like Sunni. She’s a ‘take no shit’ kind of girl. Perfect.
Sunni hands out positions and I get an outfielder position, which works for me because I’m not sure I’m coordinated enough to play anything infield right now. Hell, I can barely open doors on my own, apparently.
We play a few rounds to get our groove but stop when the field lights start to dim.
“Sorry ladies, but this will have to do for today. The sports complex is closing for the night. How does everyone’s schedule look for tomorrow evening for another practice? Our first game is against the Palm Beach Pirates on Saturday afternoon, so tomorrow will be the only time to practice before then.”
“Works for me.” I say as my other teammates agree.
We all help Sunni clean up the field before we head out. I get in my car, and purely because of habit, I pray my car will start, but since Trevor and Mr. Gallo fixed it last night, it’s started every time like it’s new.
My body is exhausted and when I return to my one-room apartment, I’m sorry that I don’t have a bathtub to soak in. “Just be thankful you have what you have, Mia. Not everyone does.” I remind myself as I climb out of the shower and change into my pajamas.
I spend an hour practicing making granny squares with my crochet and just before bed, I pull out my business plan notebook and reread it. It’s something I do almost every night. Rereading my plans, making adjustments and notes as I learn or think of ideas helps me keep my focus on my dream.
My parents may have not wanted me, or even the many foster parents I’ve had over the years, but I’ve always known that I will accomplish my dreams if I just stick to my plans and tweak them as necessary.
When I was little, I would save every penny I had to buy one of those bridal magazines and then stare at each of the dresses; how they were made, what made them so beautiful, and the different fabrics. Then I would practically memorize every word in the magazine about every little aspect of a wedding.
Funny enough, I never dreamed of my own wedding. I’ve dreamt of having my own family, but never my wedding. I don’t know why, but I just can’t picture it. But I’ve always dreamed of helping other women, and men, I suppose, pick out that perfect dress that makes their special day the perfect day.
Some day.
Thursday and Friday were crazy busy at work because Mr. Gallo was out of town, Washington, DC, I think, and Mrs. Wilcox was running around trying to keep track of him and everyone else in the office.
There were problems at the marina and a yacht caught on fire because of a mechanical issue in the engine compartment. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but it did cause chaos in the office and at the country club.
The printers botched up the newsletter, and I was tracking them down repeatedly until they got it right. We were barely able to get it out on time to the members.
I’ve been looking forward all week to going out with Rick and his partner to Hooplas. Rick just gave me the five-dollar tour of Hibiscus Harbor. I’ve been too busy to drive around myself, so having someone give me the tour was a blessing. He’s shown me where he went to school and then to college, where the hospital is, although I hope to never need to know, and all the best places to eat and hang out.
I’m looking forward to trying the Bean and Bagel for breakfast one day on my way to work. One of my teammates owns it and Rick says it’s pretty popular and that if you don’t get there early, the line is usually out the door and around the corner. Must be good.
We pull into the parking lot at Hoopla’s and meet Rick’s partner, Dean, before we go in.
“So, how was the tour?” Dean asks as he pulls open the door.
Country music streams out, and the place is packed, just like the parking lot. “It was great. I’m glad I know my way around a little bit now.”
“Let me guess, Rick showed you all the places he loves to eat, the hospital, and where he went to school. Am I right? I feel like I’m right.” Dean laughs at himself as he fans his face.
“Bingo. Right on the nose.” I laugh along with him as we sit at a booth and pull out the menus.
“What can I get you folks?” The waitress asks.
We place our orders and Dean scolds Rick, “Why didn’t you show her where the park, nightlife, or even where city hall is, you dork?”
“Honey, she already knew about the park since she joined a kickball team. We passed city hall on our way here, and Hoopla’s is the only nightlife worth knowing. What more do you want me to show her? We live in a small town, baby.”
Dean shakes his head. “I guess you’re right.” He faces me, “So, Mia, tell us everything about you. We want to know everything. Leave nothing out.”
The waitress brought our drinks as I tell my rehearsed life story. “Well, I’m from Knoxville and I moved here last weekend. Um, let’s see, I love to crochet, and I just started on a kickball team called the Bad News Babes.” I shrug my shoulders. “That’s about it.”
Dean gives me a thumbs down. “Boring. Tell us about your family, your hometown, where’d you go to school, who you are dating. That kind of stuff. Good stuff, girl.”
“Dean, stop harassing my co-worker.” Rick scolds him.
I’m thankful for Rick’s intervention. Most people don’t treat me the same once they find out that I’m a foster kid. They usually ask stupid questions, and I can tell they wonder what’s wrong with me, that even my parents didn’t want me, or they treat me like a charity case. Neither one feels good.
“But I want to know.” Dean whines and I cave a little.
“Well, Knoxville is a nice town, but there really wasn’t anything for me there and the weather was too cold. I found Hibiscus Harbor on the map and took a chance. I’m not dating anyone and I’m an only child and both of my parents are gone.”
Rick smacks Dean’s shoulder. “See, that’s why you don’t pry.” He looks at me. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah, me too, and for prying.” Dean says.
I smile at them both and lift my soda. “Here’s to new friends and new starts.”
We all clink our glasses and drink.
After eating a delicious burger and fries, which is so much tastier than tuna fish sandwiches, and attempting to dance on the dance floor, we finally decided to call it a night and Rick drives me back to the office where I had left my car. Apparently, Dean had taken a rideshare to Hooplas.
“Thanks for a great evening and the tour. I had way too much fun tonight.” I tell them as I climb out of Rick’s car.
“We’ll have to do it again sometime. Maybe next time, we’ll actually have a beer.” Dean calls out to me as I get into my car.
“Maybe. I’ll see you at work on Monday, Rick. Nice to meet you, Dean.”
“Drive safe, Mia.” Dean calls out as I start my car.
They wait until I pull out of the parking lot before they leave, and I smile at the thoughtfulness.
Mr. Gallo had done the same thing just the other night. The second I think of him, my insides get gooey again and I just don’t understand it. I almost miss him. How, since I barely know him, I don’t know. He’s my boss’s boss and some kind of billionaire or trillionaire. Is that even a thing? I don’t know, and I have no idea why I’m having these thoughts.
He’s my boss.
Actually, my boss’s boss.
Enough, Mia.