Never Too Late (23 page)

“Just called to make sure you weren’t backing out.” He knew her so well. “Wear that burgundy sweater that you fill out so nicely. And the heart pendant I gave you the day Lissa was born. For luck.”

“I need it.” Carla twirled the glass of wine.

“Your problem’s going to be that everyone will fall in love with you.”

“Not the right everyone.” Carla looked out at the patio, at the garden she’d nurtured over the years. Would anyone share this home with her again?

“I saw the way Jamie looked at you the other night.”

“Mike—”

“Go have some fun. Call me when you get home.”

“What if I don’t come home?” With all the pent-up desire stuffed in every corner of her body, anything was possible.

“Then be safe and call me in the morning. I love you.”

Carla finished the wine and closed her eyes, waiting for it to take the edge of longing away. She needed to get over her feelings for Jamie. Walking to her bedroom she replayed how it had felt to dance with Vanessa. Maybe they’d go dancing tonight. Maybe they’d do more than dance.

The back door opened and Jamie looked up from the patient file on her desk as Penni bounded into her office in shorts and a yellow T-shirt with the name of her softball team across the front. “I thought we were going to dinner.” Penni set tennis shoes, shorts, and a T-shirt on the corner of the desk. Jamie held up the faded green A’s T-shirt. “These look like my—”

“Stole them from your house. Just because I never use my key doesn’t mean I don’t still have it. Does Sheryl ever hang up her clothes? Like in the closet?”

Jamie ignored the comment. Sheryl’s messiness irritated her, but weren’t relationships about compromise? “Practice isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I have a surprise for you.” Penni’s smile couldn’t have been bigger as she pulled a softball glove from behind her back and tossed it to Jamie. “You’re our left fielder tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Practice game.” Penni mimed swinging a bat. “Every year you say you’ll play with us. League starts in a few weeks.”

Jamie picked up a file and waved it but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the glove.

Penni took the file. “Come on. It’s Friday night.”

Jamie almost laughed at Penni’s smug expression. It conveyed her enthusiastic don’t-take-no-for-an-answer attitude that Jamie had always loved. Would one night off hurt? She stared at the stack of files that didn’t look so tall when Carla was going through them with her. She wanted to throw them against the wall. “God, I’m sick of this mess.”

“Which is why I’m kidnapping you.” Penni poked at the stack of files, and they fanned out across the desk. “You need something in your life besides these. One night. We need you.”

“What you mean is half your team mutinied at having a game on a Friday night and you’ve resorted to kidnapping your friends.”

“Well, if you insist on being particular.” Penni put her hands on her hips. “You know you want to,” she said, in a singsong voice.

Jamie slipped the glove on and pounded her fist into the web. “Left field, huh?” When she wasn’t pitching she’d loved to play the outfield.

“Where’s Carla? I was going to talk her into coming with us.”

“She left.”

“Call her and have her meet us at—”

“She’s on a date,” Jamie said, taking off the glove and restacking the files.

Penni was silent and the smile was gone. “Wow. That must have thrown you.”

“Why would it?”

“Cut the crap.” There was too much sympathy in Penni’s expression.

“It’s no big deal, Penni. I even gave her dating advice.” Jamie shrugged and rubbed her neck. It was stiff, even though she’d let Sara work on her this afternoon.

“I’ll bet that was some conversation.”

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?”

“Because I remember what you were like when you got back from Atlanta, what you said about—”

“We’re friends. That’s it. Don’t make something out of this that isn’t there.”

“You don’t have to yell.” Penni handed the clothes to her. “Go change.”

Jamie marched to the bathroom with the clothes. She needed a night of fun. After changing, she walked through the clinic, checking that file cabinets were locked, computers and lights turned off. When she reached Carla’s office she saw the white sweater over the back of the chair. Forgotten again. Apparently she didn’t need it for her date. She jabbed at the light switch and the room went dark.

*

Jamie eyed the batter walking from the on-deck area, swinging two bats before tossing one to the ground. Clean-up hitter. She’d smacked one deep to left center last time up, and it had cost them two runs. Now it was the top of the seventh and they were tied. Jamie backed up even before Penni lifted the catcher’s mask from her face and waved the outfield back. Better to let her get a cheap single than a game-winning home run.

Jamie wiped sweat off her face with the hem of her T-shirt. The front was streaked with dirt from her headfirst slide into second. She hadn’t hesitated, and not until she’d crossed the plate with the tying run had it occurred to her someone could have stepped on her hands. The instincts for the game were still there if the skills were a little rusty, but she hadn’t dropped a fly yet.

She banged her fist into her glove and danced on the balls of her feet to stay loose as the batter stepped up to the plate. On the third pitch the woman tagged one to left. Jamie sprinted toward the foul line, gaining on the hard-hit ball as she neared the line. If she let it go it would be a foul ball. Jamie reached for a last burst of acceleration from her screaming quads and launched her body at the sinking ball. It landed in her glove and she squeezed it into the pocket as she hit the grass hard. She rolled and slammed into the chain-link fence.

She was already on her feet, holding her glove up as her teammates crowded around her, a dozen versions of “Great catch” and “Are you all right?” tossed at her.

Penni picked her up in a bear hug and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Awesome.”

“Eww. Sweaty,” Jamie said, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

“Scared the shit out of me,” Penni said, as they jogged back to the dugout. “You don’t have to risk getting hurt.”

“Didn’t even think,” Jamie said, trying to catch her breath. “God that felt great.” Teammates slapped her on the back and someone handed her a bottle of water.

“I told you it would be fun.” Penni nudged her shoulder. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Jamie looked at her and cocked her head. “Do you want me to—” The first batter beat out an infield hit, and Jamie cheered with the rest of the team.

“Where softball’s concerned,” Penni said. “Remember our final college game? I called for a change-up and you kept shaking me off?”

Jamie would never forget that last game. “It was a full count and it’s not my most reliable pitch, and walking her would have brought the tying run home.”

“But I promised to get you a date with the cute center fielder on the other team you’d been drooling over, if you’d trust me and throw that pitch?” Penni pumped her fist in the air as she said, “Strike-out, league champions, and one of the best dates of your life.” Penni bumped her hip. “You just need to trust me. Don’t I always know what’s best?”

“You’re up, Jamie,” Lori called, from her spot coaching third base. “Winning run’s on second.” She pointed to the woman standing on the bag.

“Show ’em your stuff,” Penni said.

Jamie picked up the bat and wrung her hands around the taped handle. The woman on second was fast. A hit between the outfielders and she’d probably score. A part of herself she’d lost track of joined her as she walked to the plate. She was breathing hard and sweat trickled down her back, and she was happier than she’d been in a long time.

The second pitch was a waist-high dream pitch, and she sent a line drive over the shortstop’s head. As she sprinted to first base she watched it slice between the outfielders and roll toward the fence. Rounding first she pumped her legs hard for second. The outfielder picked it up and pegged a hard throw to home, but her teammate crossed the plate a step before the ball landed in the catcher’s glove. Jamie jumped up and down as her teammates ran out and huddled around her, congratulating her on the game-winning hit. It was just a practice slow-pitch game, but Jamie was elated.

After shaking hands with the other team, they collected their gear and tossed themselves on the grass under the shade of a tree, guzzling waters, unlacing shoes, talking in that post-game chatter Jamie loved.

“Don’t take your shoes off, yet,” Penni said, pulling her to her feet. “I want to see if you can still pitch.”

“I’ve been pitching to the kids at practice.”

“Real pitching to real batters.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I haven’t pitched in—” Jamie stopped. She did want to know if she could still do it. “All right,” she said, catching the ball Penni tossed to her as they trotted back to the field. Penni squatted behind home plate and held up her glove.

Jamie spun the ball until she had her grip right on the seams. Fastball. She pumped her arms over her head and then whipped her right arm around her body as she pushed off the mound. The ball hit Penni’s glove with a satisfying crack. Her teammates clapped, and Lori picked up a bat and headed toward home plate. Penni gave her their old signal for a rise. Jamie adjusted her fingers along the seams and went into her windup. Lori swung and missed, and Penni bounced up from behind the plate.

“Wow.” Jamie looked at her hand. “Did that rise a bit?”

“Yep. You’ve still got it.” Penni threw the ball back to her.

Lori dug her feet in and pointed her bat at Jamie. “Do that again.”

Jamie tried not to smile when Penni gave the signal for the changeup. She dug her fingertips into the seams, palmed the ball, and went into her windup again. The trick to throwing an effective change was keeping your motion the same so they expected a fastball. By the time the ball floated lazily into Penni’s glove, Lori had already finished her swing.

“Yes!” Penni danced around home plate in a victory dance, and Lori laughed, shaking her head as she handed the bat to someone else.

Everyone wanted a turn, and Jamie kept throwing pitches as they all shared softball stories. Was there anything better than the camaraderie of a team?

“Maybe I will play with you,” Jamie said, as she caught the bottle of water Penni tossed to her, guzzling half, then dumping the rest down her back. “Time flies when I’m playing softball. Sorry I was a little grumpy earlier.”

“Grumpy is allowed. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I just don’t want it to drag you under.” Penni tossed her glove near a bat bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Team roster for fall league. Sign,” she said, handing Jamie a pen.

Jamie couldn’t stop smiling as they walked back to Penni’s truck. Her stomach growled, her shoulder hurt, and both her knees were grass-stained.

“Hey,” she said, as Penni unlocked the car door for her.

“What?”

“I’m still a pitcher.”

Penni ruffled her hair, and Jamie thanked the fates that had brought them together all those years ago. Maybe Penni was right—it’s never too late to get back to the things you love. Jamie looked back at the diamond, now mostly in shadow. Some of the best times of her life had taken place on a softball diamond. Yeah, she could get out early one night a week to play on Penni’s team.

*

“So, our usual place?” Penni asked as she drove away from the park.

“Do you even have to ask? Is Lori gonna meet us there?”

“Nope. She’s going out for Indian food with her sister.”

“Do you want to go there instead?”

“Nah.” Penni pulled the visor down. “We need a little breathing space.”

“You guys are okay, aren’t you?”

“Of course. We’re just having one of those weeks where we’re on each other’s nerves about stupid stuff like who empties the dishwasher and who stops at the store on the way home. I’ll do some bitching to you and she’ll complain to Janet. Whoever gets home first will light candles and put on romantic music, and we’ll laugh and talk and make love.”

“You have the best relationship I’ve seen, other than my parents’.”

“You could have one, too.” Penni’s voice had its usual sarcasm.

Jamie ignored the comment as she watched a woman running with two little white dogs trying to keep pace with her, their legs pumping furiously. She wanted to laugh but then realized she knew how they felt—running as fast as she could and barely able to keep up. She moved her shoulders around to try to loosen the tension that was creeping back as she pictured that stack of files on her desk. “I can’t play,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Not with—”

“Don’t go there,” Penni said, tapping Jamie on the side of her head. “Let it go for tonight. That clinic’s going to be the death of you.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I let my father down. The clinic meant everything to him.”

“You’ll get through this. Justice will prevail, as they say. But maybe it’s time to decide what the clinic means to you. Hear me out,” Penni said, when Jamie started to protest. “You never wanted a practice that big. You wanted time for softball and—”

“That was twenty years ago. We all have to grow up.” Jamie lowered her window and rested her arm on the edge.

“I grew up, but I didn’t give up everything that mattered to me.”

“I have responsibilities I can’t walk away from. It’s too late to—”

“You don’t have to walk away, and it’s never too late for the things that make you happy. You have some funny ideas about responsibility. It isn’t something you decide once and then stick to like you’re chained to it. Take Carla, for example.”

“How so?”

“She’s not continuing in a marriage she chose twenty years ago out of a blind sense of responsibility. Now she’s in a different place and choosing new directions for her life.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jamie mumbled. She fiddled with the laces on her glove. She needed a new one but couldn’t bear to part with all the nostalgia rubbed into this one. “Do you think hiring Carla was a good idea? I mean, with all our history?” She stroked her fingers over the well-worn leather. Joan Joyce’s autograph was almost gone. Taking a pitching clinic with her was a day she’d never forget. She’d once thought softball would be her life.