CHAPTER 24
“You should’ve shown me first. You’re really good,” she said, looking at Maisie’s ass as Maisie swung and connected with another ball.
“I played in college,” Maisie shared and got herself ready for the next pitch.
“You played softball in college?”
Maisie swung, grunting as she connected with another ball, and it was hot. India cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together. When Maisie turned around to answer her question, she caught where India’s eyes had gone.
“Are you looking at my ass?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And I believe checking out your ass would be the right turn of phrase.”
“And did you just say, ‘Turn of phrase?’” Maisie asked.
“I did. Problem?”
“Nope,” Maisie replied, shaking her head. “I kind of like you checking out my ass and that you say stuff like, ‘Turn of phrase.’”
“Are you done showing off yet?” India laughed.
“I’m not showing off. I’m legitimately practicing. I have a game tomorrow.”
“You have a softball game tomorrow?!”
“Yeah, tomorrow night,” Maisie said. “First game back in a few months. I’m out of practice.”
“You don’t look out of practice.”
“You get back into it pretty quickly, but I’ve only taken ten pitches. Can I go another couple of rounds, or are you starving?”
“Can I keep checking out your ass?”
Maisie considered and said, “I’ll allow it.”
“Then, I’m in,” India replied. “So, softball in college?”
“Yeah, I played shortstop. It was real softball, though. This is slow-pitch with a bunch of lesbians, and they mostly drink and hang out. I play for keeps.”
Maisie pressed the button on the box and went back, getting ready for the first pitch.
“For keeps?”
“To win,” Maisie explained and swung, connecting with the ball and launching it well beyond the machine until it hit the wall and bounced down to be collected later.
“I’m not a crazy competitive person most of the time.
” She swung and connected again before resetting.
“This election has brought it back out in me, but outside of that, it’s just softball. I really like it when we win.”
“Do you have uniforms?” India asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ve seen baseball uniforms. Are they like that?”
Maisie hit another ball and then turned to her and walked away from the plate as the next pitch hit the fence separating India from Maisie and the other hitting balls.
“Why?”
“No reason.” India shook her head.
“Do you like the pants?”
“They looked tight, so yes, I was thinking about you in them.”
Maisie smiled and said, “I don’t wear the pants, but I do have sliding shorts.”
“What are those?”
“Basically, spandex with a little padding on the sides to protect you when you slide.”
“Spandex?”
“Yes. Really tight.”
“And you just wear those?”
Another pitch hit the fence.
“I wear shorts over them.”
“Oh,” India said, knowing she sounded disappointed.
“But if you want, I could wear just those for you before the game.”
“The game? The one tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. Are you free?”
“Yes,” India said. “So, you’ll wear those just for me and then put the shorts on over them for the game?”
“Sure.” Maisie nodded and turned back around to wait for the pitch. “So, will you come to my game?”
“Yeah, I will,” India said as Maisie hit another ball.
“What do you want to do?”
“At the game?”
“No, in general. We’ve done a bunch of stuff I wanted, and I know you wanted to do a fancy dinner thing. Do you still want to do that?”
India smiled and said, “I’d love to take you someplace nice, yes, but that’s mainly because I… think you deserve a really good meal. I’d say wine, too, but you’d prefer a good beer. I can find that for you, I promise.”
Maisie hit the next pitch and said, “India, I will go with you because you want to go. I’m sure I’ll have a good time.
” She hit the next ball. “You’ll be beautiful, sitting across from me in some dimly lit place, and I’ll want to hold your hand on the table.
” She hit the next pitch, too. “I’ll eat the food, and it’ll be amazing, but I’m sure I won’t remember it much after. ”
“No?” India asked.
“No. But I’ll remember the night I spent with you, the memories we make, the things we laugh about.
” Maisie hit the next pitch and turned around to face her.
“That’s what’s important to me. I’ll happily sit across that table from you or go to the opera I know you like, even though I won’t understand the words. They sing in Italian, right?”
India chuckled and replied, “Sometimes, yes. Have you ever been?”
“To the opera? No, not even the lobby.”
India laughed as Maisie walked out of the cage.
“I thought you were going to do a few more.”
“I’m good,” Maisie replied.
She sat down on the cold, metal bench next to India and put her bat into a bag that looked like it was especially made for it before she took off her helmet and put it inside as well.
India reached out then and touched Maisie’s blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Maisie turned over to her and smiled softly.
“So, opera?”
“I like ballet, too,” India said. “Ever been?”
“No,” Maisie replied. “But you’ll laugh because, before my mom left a million years ago, she actually put me into a ballet class. I was three, I think. It didn’t last long.”
“Why not? I bet you made a cute little ballerina,” India said, sliding over on the bench to sit closer to Maisie.
“I hated it. I just wanted to run around the room, and I kept tearing off the tutu thing.” Maisie laughed. “My mom gave up after, like, the third lesson. She tried again when I was six, though, hoping I was older and could be tamed.”
“And you couldn’t?” India asked, rubbing the back of Maisie’s neck how she had in the bookshop yesterday.
“Actually, by then, I was already behind all the girls in the class, and I gave up because I felt like I couldn’t keep up with everything. It’s brutal. I don’t know how they do it. I was six and figured out how hard it was. Did you ever dance? Is that why you liked it?”
“I did a lot of things,” she said as Maisie settled against the back of the bench, where India dropped her arm behind her and kept it there. “I danced from the time I was three and until I was seventeen and tore a tendon.”
“You danced that long?”
“I loved it,” India said wistfully. “And I wasn’t amazing.
I never would’ve been a prima, but I could’ve ended up in the core somewhere had I kept pushing.
The tendon injury healed, but I’d lost a year.
I kept at it for another few months after that, but then, I graduated high school and moved away for college, losing my class and teacher here.
It made more sense for me to focus on school then anyway. Now, I run, and that’s nice, too.”
“Running isn’t exactly ballet, India.”
“No, but I like it. I can put my headphones in and just hit the road, getting out of my head for a little bit.”
“Do you need to get out of your head?”
India smiled at her and said, “Not right now.”
“No? You’re not worrying about how you look in that shirt or how the bench might have sweat and dirt on it?”
“I’m not, actually. I’m surprisingly just enjoying myself here with you.”
“Is it because you got to check out my ass?”
“That’s one of the reasons, yes,” she said with a smile. “Can’t wait to see you in those siding shorts.”
“Sliding,” Maisie replied, laughing. “They’re made for sliding.”
“Why do you slide?” India asked and moved a strand of hair behind Maisie’s ear.
“So you’re safe.”
“Safe is good, right?”
“In softball, yes. Only when you’re on offense, though.”
“Safe isn’t good in other respects?”
Maisie tilted her head and said, “Not always.” Then, she smiled widely. “Speaking of unsafe… Let’s buy concession stand food and hope for the best.”
“What?” India asked.
Maisie took India’s hand after picking up her bag, and they walked over to the concession stand, where there wasn’t a line. That couldn’t be a good thing. People usually lined up for good food, not for bad or, in this case, possibly unsafe food.
“What do you want?” the guy behind the counter asked, clearly not worried about getting a tip.
“Can we get two hot dogs, one large fry, two root beers, and that candy bar?” Maisie pointed to the rack behind the guy at the brand of candy bar she knew India liked. “And I’m getting vanilla. What kind of ice cream do you want?”
“Oh. What kind do they–” India began.
“Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, chocolate chip cookie dough, and mint chocolate chip,” the guy interrupted as if he had said this a thousand times already.
“I’ll have the mint chocolate chip, then,” she said.
“That all?” he asked as he started ringing things up.
“That’s all,” Maisie replied and handed him her credit card.
“Give me a minute,” he stated as he swiped the card and handed it back to Maisie before going to get everything.
“He’s… friendly,” India said sarcastically.
“Not known for their customer service, but their food is good.”
“How often do you come here?”
“Oh, I’ve been coming here for years,” Maisie shared. “You know how running helps you get out of your head? Batting cages do it for me.”
“Did you start during college?”
“No, we had our own cages at school. It was after, but not always. I mean, not consistently. I started coming here again after my grams died. I needed something to do to get my mind off of everything, and I drove past here one day. I decided to stop by and hit a few, but I ended up staying for hours until my hands were sore, and my shoulders were worn out. Then, I broke down and cried until the manager walked over to tell me that they were closed. Not one of my prouder moments,” Maisie laughed a little, but it wasn’t a real laugh.
“I’m sorry you lost her, Maise,” India said.
“Me too. She was a great grandma, but it was also more than that. I hadn’t properly grieved my dad’s death, so I think it was a combination cry. He was a great dad. He did the best he could after my mom left. Then, Grams did the best she could with me after he died.”
“Have you heard from your mom since she left? I know what you said before, but–”