Field of Schemes (18 page)

I felt emboldened for exactly one second. Then Mimi launched into me and made it abundantly clear who would win the battle and the war. If I made Mimi my enemy, she wouldn’t just tear a soccer jersey. “Listen here, Claire,” she said with a mouth so tight I could see it through the phone. “I know you think you’re really cute with your little innuendoes, but let me make myself clear. I am the manager of this team and will not take a half-ounce of bullshit from you. This family is moving to Santa Bella in September, and if our team can sign this girl, we’ll be unstoppable at State Cup. Maybe no one explained this to you while you were busy worrying about team banners and the like, but after the regular season ends, we can add new players to our roster. The season is officially over so we can bring on new blood and cut the mistakes.”

“Are you threatening my daughter?” I asked, outraged.

“I’m threatening
you.
Take me on and I guarantee you will lose. Be a good little treasurer and write the checks and shut up. I have no patience for you people who come to the club, know nothing about the way things work and waste my time making me explain it. Try a little humility and observe for a while before you come in and start running off at the mouth.”

Shit, this chick was scary! What happened to girl power?

“Are you done?” I asked, feigning indignation. I thought it would come off better than the abject fear I really felt.

“I’m done and I hope this conversation is, too. If I have to talk to you again about this, I won’t be as pleasant about it.” Then Mimi hung up.

As I sat in a puddle of my own sweat, I looked at the clock, dismayed to see that this day was far from over. It wasn’t even eight o’clock and I was ready to wave my white flag and surrender to the day. I changed into my pajamas, crawled into my bed and watched STivo tell me that I would be okay without him.

After my exchange with Mimi, I faced a parenting dilemma. Did I still allow Rachel to attend pre-practice homework sessions at the Shasta Palace? Was the tax-evading, possibly drug-trafficking house a great place for Rachel to be? When I told Darcy about our phone conversation, she seemed completely unfazed. “Darcy, did you hear what I just told you?”

“She’s a bitch,” Darcy shrugged. “Everyone knows that. She’s been like this since the girls were little, and I expect she’ll keep it up till they’re off to college. We’ve lost a few players because of her. Good players, too.”

“Why does the club still let her manage teams?” I asked.

“Claire, her family completely funds the foundation. All of Shasta Imports’ local clients are club sponsors. They think she’s awesome. She’s on their board and was the president of the organization for three years. Don’t take this so personally. Mimi has issues with women, attractive women in particular.”
Oh, thank you.
“Personally, I think she’s awful, but the truth is she’s terrific with the girls. She doesn’t see them as competition.”

“So you let Kelly go to her house unsupervised?” I asked.

“I’m telling you, Claire, she’s amazing with the girls. Last year, Kelly came home with all of her homework done, her notebook organized, and an academic schedule that Mimi helped her put together.”

“Really? Wow.” Though I was happy to hear that Mimi would be a positive influence on Rachel, I had to admit to feeling more than a bit conflicted about the report. I wished Mimi were thoroughly evil, like the wicked queen who offers poison apples to fair-skinned lovelies. Now I wasn’t sure who or what she was. A bitch with a soft spot for girls? A feminist athlete who was jealous of pretty women? Why did she have to be such an oxymoron?

MEMORANDUM

TO: The Team
FROM: Mimi Shasta
DATE: April 8
RE: First Practice!

I hope you’re all as excited as I am about our first practice this Tuesday afternoon! I will pick up the girls from Santa Bella Elementary after school, and my good friend Jinx has graciously agreed to pick up the girls who attend Our Lady of Forgiveness even though her daughter, Sissy, was cut from this year’s team to make room for new girls! Since we only have two girls who go to Beth Israel Hebrew Day, I trust the parents will work out a carpool and get their kids to practice on time!

Our first tournament is right around the corner so we need to get busy! The Memorial Weekend Classic is in Santa Barbara and our team will be staying at the Crowne Plaza, the official hotel of the tournament! I will get you the schedules as soon as I can, but the club hasn’t posted it yet (ugh!)!

Go Kix!!!

When I showed up at the practice field on Thursday, Mimi was leading the girls in laps. She was dressed in head-to-toe Nike gear from her wristbands to her socks. I suspect her underwear bore the swoosh as well. Rachel told me that Mimi bragged to the girls about her exclusive deal with Nike. Darcy said she highly doubted this was the case. The more likely scenario was that some old fart at Sports Chalet told her that she was “so purdy she oughta be the model for Nike.” Mimi probably batted her extended lashes, pouted her collagen lips, and convinced the helpless schlep to give her a few free items. After all, who even knows about kids’ soccer team managers? If no one was giving Gunther an exclusive deal, no one was giving Mimi one either. (Stellar college career notwithstanding.)

Rachel saw that I’d arrived and gave me a silly wave as she followed the pack. The girls then played leap frog, ran agility hoops and jumped hurdles. I was exhausted just watching for fifteen minutes.

Or maybe I was exhausted by listening to the dads. Paulo shouted directions in Italian to Giovanna constantly. I don’t speak Italian, but he was clearly telling her to pick up her knees since this is what she started doing immediately upon hearing his commands.

Raymond told Violet to “work that hoop, girl!”

Dick, Bobby and Leo simply made a bunch of sounds that sounded like animal mating calls. How could they be
this
excited over fitness training?! I can see if we were at a game, but this was ridiculous.

Gia and her boobs were taking a
Cosmo
quiz,
Are You Discreet?
Nancy was knitting and the Jennifers decided to use their time to run. Only Jessica and Darcy were missing.

I was not looking forward to seeing Darcy again. I wondered how she reacted when Ron told her about what happened. Did she think me a presumptuous fool or a pathetic fool? God, I hoped pathetic.

Gunther blew his whistle and called the girls to him. Mimi pointed at her watch as if to tell him that her fitness training hadn’t concluded. He returned the gesture with a dismissive wave. “They start practicing soccer now,” he said.

Mimi smiled brightly, though anyone could see she was annoyed. “This is soccer, Gunther. It’s fitness training
for
soccer.”

“I start now,” he said.

“Girls! Run a lap while I talk to the coach.” As she walked over to Gunther, I swore I heard the Darth Vader music in the background. The two had a trial-like sidebar with Mimi’s hands flailing about in protest and Gunther simply shaking his head.

“I am telling you no,” he said, interrupting her tirade about their agreement.

“We have a lot of slow girls on this team!” she protested.
She couldn’t be talking about Rachel.
“They need to be in shape or they’ll never—”

“I am telling you no,” Gunther repeated.

“I can hear that, but what I’m telling you is that—”

“We do my practicing, then we do yours if there is time.”

You go, Gunther. You da man!

I have no idea what transpired between them in the weeks between our team meeting and the first practice, but clearly Gunther felt the need to assert himself and establish himself as the leader of this team. I, for one, couldn’t have been happier.

“Gunther!” Mimi yelled.

“I am telling you to stop talking,” Gunther said.

Loving this! Why couldn’t I tell Mimi, “I am telling you to shut up now”?

When the girls came back around the track, Mimi announced that it was time for Gunther to take over. The group walked off to a small area offset by orange cones. Any reservations I had about our coach vanished when I saw him take control of the practice. For one, he spoke. He seemed to be stringing multiple sentences together and making facial expressions. Then the girls started laughing. “Yes, this is truth, girls,” he said, admitting to something that Savannah said. “But you learn and work hard and you will do even better than I play soccer. I see you at tryout and you look like superstar.” Good God, he was charming. And chatty. Who would have imagined?!

The four fat fathers stood like Mount Rushmore on the sideline. “Who to? Who to?” shouted Raymond when a plain-topped Violet passed to a girl wearing a neon yellow bib.

“Out wide, move to space, Savannah!” added Leo.

“Kylie, hustle! Mariah, on your toes! Tandy, you hang in there, stay tough!” shouted Dick.

“Turn and burn, turn and burn, Cayenne!” bellowed Bobby.

Paulo shouted more in Italian, which sounded like he just got in an accident with another motorist.

The worst part of it was that all of this voluminous instruction was dispensed simultaneously. It reminded me of traders at the New York Stock Exchange. If I were a child, I would have frozen in my tracks and cried. After a season of this, I would have been on kiddie Zoloft.

When Gunther moved onto the next exercise, the sideline coaching became sideline complaining. The dads started muttering, questioning the purpose of the drill. “What’s Tandy working on shooting for?” Dick asked rhetorically. “She’s a defender, she don’t need no shooting drills.”

“Like Cayenne needs to take shots on goal!” Bobby said of his goalkeeper daughter.

“Every girl taking a shot right now should have a sweeper on her ass, trying to shut her down, like in a real game,” Raymond added.

“Nah, this ain’t right,” Leo said. “He can’t be
sivious.”

“Put Cayenne in at goal!” shouted Bobby. “Shooting on an open goal is never gonna happen in a game, Gunther!”

Gunther looked at the group, unsure of who shouted what. “Mimi, stop shouting,” he pleaded.

“I’m not saying a word,” she shouted, then followed up with a muttered “
Frankenschtein.
”

“Not
you
shouting,” Gunther clarified. “Stop
the
shouting. I cannot concentration.”

“Oh please,” she said loudly enough for the parents on the sideline to hear, but not enough for Gunther and girls to catch wind of. “How many people were shouting during your World Cup games?”

Gunther turned his attention back to the girls and began another exercise.

Mimi ambled over to the Psych Ward. “I need you guys to be quiet.”

“Ah snap, who let the dawgs out?” Leo said, laughing.

What did that even mean?

“What the hell’s this guy doin’?” Dick demanded.

“I didn’t drive no thirty minutes when I can get sucky-ass coaching at Conquistadors in my own backyard,” Leo said.

“Guys, we need to put on a united front with these girls, got it?” Mimi said. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled when my fitness session got cut in half, but you don’t see me whining about it, do you?”

“We need to get the girls ready to play in game situations, y’see what I’m sayin’?” Bobby asked, sucking his teeth and adjusting his ExxonMobil cap. “Cayenne needs to be in the box blockin’ shots, not learning how to shoot goals.”

The group grumbled in agreement.

Gia stopped filling out her questionnaire and held her pen over the same spot on the magazine page. Clearly, she wouldn’t need to score the quiz to find out that she was not in the least bit discreet. As the Jennifers jogged by, they noticed the escalating tension and slowed to listen. Nancy stopped at knit-one and stared as well, surely wondering if the gluten in their diets made them act so wacky. I imagined that she was going to suggest kava kava when she began walking toward them.

“Nancy, stop!” said Darcy.

Uh oh. She’s here. My moment of reckoning
.

“Oh hi, Darcy,” Nancy said. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. You’re not thinking of putting yourself in the middle of that cock fight, are you?”

Nancy laughed. “No, I was going to suggest that—”

“Do not disturb the animals!” Darcy warned. “Really, do yourself a favor and let them be.”

Nancy laughed again. “That bad?”

“Worse,” Darcy confirmed.

“You’d know best,” she said, returning to her knitting bag.

“Hey, Claire,” Darcy said. Funny, she didn’t seem at all upset with me. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Where’ve you been hiding?”

Um, under a rock!

“Oh, I’ve just been, I had to, we should—”

“Wanna catch up over lunch tomorrow? There’s a new sushi place that’s supposed to be great.”

I waited for her to add, “Oh, by the way, you presumptuous little twit—it was just a goldfish.” Instead she smiled expectantly.

“Sounds good,” I replied.

Nodding her head toward the dads, Darcy said, “Looks like it’s starting early this season.”

“What’s starting early?”