Work progresses smoothly on the Ryan Inn. Sam takes the mound one last time. Will he escape unscathed?

Chapter 10

Cable Car

Tuesday ran away from me. Wednesday we finished up the outside painting. I was anxious to get to work on the interior. I kept careful notes about the number of hours that Aunt Melissa put in. I attempted to pay her at the rate of ten dollars per hour. She laughed at me and told me to put my money away. Dumb struck, I didn’t know what else to do so I followed her instructions.

We brought the ladders back inside and I began studying things on the first floor. Aunt Melissa had some ideas of her own on colors for the kitchen and dining area. I couldn’t find fault with them and since it really didn’t matter to me --- well, it shouldn’t have--- I acquiesced to her desires.

Wednesday evening we dined on pizza from Fratelli’s. It seems no one was in the mood to do any cooking. Sam smiled up at us all, grabbed his glove, and made his way out the door before anyone could offer protest. I sometimes worried that we were growing apart. Then, I remembered that I had interests of my own. In fact, my practice session would be starting soon so, I gave my own farewells and began the trip to Darla’s.

They both greeted me at the front door, arm-in-arm and asked me if I was ready for a serious practice session. I smiled at them and insured them that I was and headed downstairs to the make-shift practice room. I was really glad that Fred and Darla had found each other. Sarah was, simply put --- evil. At least, I couldn’t see any good in that girl.

Before Fred could make an instrument choice I picked up his own Martin D 28 and strapped it on. "Hey Joan, be careful with that, ok?" My eyes told him that I’d never been anything else with a musical instrument. Then, my mind ran back to the incident with Billy. I laughed aloud at the thought. No, not about the fight, just the absurdity of it all.

Before Darla could take her place behind the drums and Fred could strap on the bass, I began the intro chords for "Drive." It seemed Darla was familiar with the tune and quickly joined in. Fred just stood there silently watching me while I played. At last, I finished up.

"You know Joan, that’s a tricky song vocals wise, but I think you pulled it off. Still, the harmonies on that tune will keep us busy for awhile." He laughed and informed us that it wasn’t a girl’s tune and offered to sing it himself. Before I could say a word Darla told him that it sounded perfect with me singing it. I just stood there smiling at the both of them.

Fred shook his head from side to side and I just started in again. I wasn’t surprised when he jumped in with the appropriate harmonies. "Whatever tomorrow brings I’ll be there with open arms and open eyes, yeah…" I couldn’t stop smiling as we continued to play. Was there a song that Fred wasn’t familiar with, I began to wonder. I’d never played with anyone else before, but the way we complemented each other was simply magical.

Darla, though familiar with the song herself, required a few listens before she got the drums down pat and her own harmonies sorted out as well. After two grueling hours, we finally had it nailed. I so wanted to continue, but it was getting late. We made plans for a Saturday evening practice session and I gave my goodbyes as I watched them hanging off of one another. They seemed so happy together. It scared me somehow.

Thursday morning Aunt Melissa and I found ourselves back at Mr. Hospin’s. Thankfully, we’d dropped off the rollers and such at the Inn before heading over there. Mr. Hospin shook his head from side to side a bit in disgust, but made no comment as we piled our choices up on the counter. Auntie M was in another world. Nothing could have distracted her from the joy that was burning inside. I only hoped that it was contagious.

We headed over to the Inn and in no time at all, we began painting. No damage had taken place with regards to the now exposed windows. I’d initially worried that they were covered for a reason. Now, I wasn’t sure just what that reason might have been. The painting went quickly. Although we weren’t operating on any specific timetable, I reasoned that in three weeks time we’d be finished. Aunt Melissa seemed just a bit too happy. I was half-tempted to ask her about it, but was afraid to kill her joy, so in the end I said nothing.

We stopped for lunch and ate quickly. In less than half an hour’s time we were back at it. I found myself impressed at the progress we were making. The building overall looked ready to welcome vacationers once again. Still, I knew there was a lot of work left to do.

Auntie M and I parted ways early and I made my way home having promised to start on dinner. I found myself thinking that perhaps dinner at seven thirty wasn’t so bad, well if Mom would be making it. I laughed aloud garnering curious looks from Shandy as I did so. With each passing day I found myself dreading the start of the new school year.

Sam once again burst into the kitchen, all smiles, and gave me a hug. For a moment I joined him in his happiness. It felt really good to just let go. Sam was insanely excited about the prospect of pitching again on Saturday. His enthusiasm was contagious and he soon had me joining in. Aunt Melissa was the perfect spoon to stir the pot. Soon we were all engaged in a three-way hug.

I began to worry that Sam, again, didn’t care about the twins when I walked into the living room and saw him studying his book on pre-natal care. Meatloaf ala Joan was a huge success. I had taken great joy from the accolades early on, but after awhile they became expected; i.e., the thrill was gone.

Once again my head was filled with concerns for the new school year. Would I be accepted as Joan? I’d spent my entire life with both feet on the ground. I had every reason to believe that next week would provide a disaster or two despite my desires and intentions. I smiled to myself and the words from "Drive" echoed in my head: "whatever tomorrow brings I’ll be there, with open arms and open eyes."

I cleared my mind of all extraneous thoughts and realized that whatever happened, I WAS Joan. I smiled to myself confidently. Tomorrow was Friday. School was next week. Sam’s last game was less than forty eight hours away. . And then, at the end of the school week came the battle of the bands. I was terrified.

Friday morning Aunt Melissa and I were back on the job. With the ground floor finished I found myself carefully examining the staircase to the second floor. It was in need of complete restoration. No one could have talked me out of it. I grabbed some pieces of rough sandpaper and began with the main banister. I envisioned in my mind’s eye just how beautiful it would look when I was finished. I began sanding furiously, knowing that the steps and risers would demand equal time.

I doubted that the new owners would care about my efforts with the stairway and banister Aunt Melissa eyed me as though I was insane.. None of it mattered to me. I was simply going to do the best job that I knew how. She picked up a gallon of primer and went up to the second floor to spot prime stains and such on the walls in the rooms. I continued sanding away. I saw the staircase and banister in my mind’s eye perfectly restored to its former glory. I worked like a demon until day’s end. Aunt Melissa and I shared a smile as we made our way home.

Sam had dinner ready for us upon our return. Not a peep of complaint out of him. We were working in concert toward a common goal. Sam started in again asking us if we were coming to his game tomorrow. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the ball striking him in the stomach. I honestly wasn’t sure that I’d be able to watch him again. Still, there was no place else I wanted to be. I’d have gone insane sitting at home wondering whether or not he was alright.

Friday night I felt like a prisoner. Sam had his early curfew and I wasn’t about to leave him all alone. For the first time the coach actually did call to check on him. He buffered the call by saying that he just wanted to make sure that all systems were go for tomorrow.

I hadn’t even considered calling any of my friends and asking if they wanted to come. Hell, it was the final weekend of freedom and I was positive that they all had something more pleasurable in mind than watching a baseball game. Thankfully, Sam was wrapped up with his own dreams of his performance tomorrow and hadn’t begged me to badger them.

I gave him the best massage I knew how as he sat there watching mindless tripe on television. With forced smiles, I was as supportive as I could be. In the end I succeeded in my attempt to keep my fears from him. He moaned with pleasure as he became lost in my efforts. I did my best to let them take me away as well, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I had him in bed and asleep just after ten o’clock. If he was going to do this, at least he’d be well rested. My dreams were filled with disaster as I slept fitfully through the night.

I woke up feeling more tired than I had been before I went to bed. I got dressed and headed across the street hoping that Aunt Mel was already up. I was in serious need of a distraction. I broke into a genuine smile as I heard her voice coming from the kitchen. She was cooing sweet words of love to Shandy.

"Good Morning!" I boomed as I strolled into the room. There was no need to explain my movements or actions. Aunt Melissa just saw through them all.

"Oh sweetheart! He’s going to be fine!" she said to me as my eyes filled with tears. I wanted to believe her, but I found myself getting angry. How the hell did she know he was going to be fine? I bit down on those feelings as I realized she was saying them for my benefit and not simply attempting to sweep the dangers all under the rug.

"Aunt Melissa? How could he even think about doing this?" I asked the question that had no answer. She hugged me tight and told me we’d all get through it somehow. I didn’t bother to ask if she was coming. I simply took it for granted. I sat down and prayed; not to any specific god, but, to the universe as a whole. I know it doesn’t make any sense. Still, I felt better when I was finished.

Aunt Melissa made me breakfast. I attempted to make conversation about our work, but I just couldn’t concentrate on the job. I did ask her if she was coming over to the Inn tomorrow, but she told me she would be visiting with Dan and Melissa starting this evening. She went on to assure me that she’d be back on the job come Tuesday. Tuesday. I had a half-day of school on Tuesday. Just as I was getting comfortable in my new life, everything would be changing again.

It was nine thirty when I headed back across the street to make sure that Sam was up and getting ready. I needn’t have worried. He was seated at the kitchen table with a mixing bowl filled with milk and cheerios. He looked so handsome in his baseball uniform. Despite my worries I was genuinely happy for him. He finished up and kissed me goodbye as Coach waited outside the front door in the bus with his hand tapping gently on the horn.

His last words to me: "Don’t worry Joan, Dr. Feingold is going to be there. I’ll see you at the game sweetheart. Wish me luck!" With that, he was on his way. I felt so alone. It went deeper than that, but the words simply don’t exist to explain my feelings. I left the house before Aunt Alice showed her face. Back across the street yet again, I headed up to the shower. I was going to make myself as pretty as I knew how.

I must have spent an hour doing my hair and makeup. I was going to need another trip to the Hairport. At length, I did manage to get it all under control. My yellow sundress complemented my tanned body perfectly. My wedgies added a certain air of sophistication. My dark wrap-around sunglasses hid the fear that would be obvious to anyone glancing in my direction.

"Joan! You look stunning!" Aunt Melissa greeted me as I strolled back into the kitchen. I couldn’t hide the smile that burst forth at her words. "Let me see how the grandmas are doing and let’s see if we can’t get this show on the road," she said marching out of the room.

I found myself hoping that she’d never leave. Hell, I’d have slept in a tent in the backyard if it meant she’d stay. For whatever reason Aunt Melissa was far easier to talk to than Mom. I hoped I wasn’t turning into a narcissist, but I soon found myself in the sewing room staring at my reflection in the full length mirror. Besides worrying about Sam, I was terrified at the prospect of returning to school on Tuesday. I wasn’t even really sure why.

I’d lived the last few months of my life as Joan, 24/7. There was simply no way I was going backwards. I hadn’t spoken with Aunt Vivian in a few weeks. I needed to get back to my therapy sessions. In a way, it all seemed frivolous and unimportant. What was the big deal? I was living my life the way I wanted to. I was happy and I wasn’t hurting anyone by my actions. Why would anyone care at all what I did? I finally managed to convince myself. I touched up my lipstick in the mirror. I’d chosen ‘rose’ for the day. A bit more of a statement than the mauve, but not as outlandish as the ruby red.

I shrugged a sigh of relief and went out to face the music. The music! Ah!!! I had a practice session with Fred and Darla this evening. The battle of the bands was one week from today. I had no idea what to expect with regards to that competition. I’d never been to one before.

I walked into the kitchen to the sounds of three ladies gabbing, drinking coffee, and destroying their lungs. I was tempted to join them, but I was getting pretty good at denying those urges for the most part. I wasn’t in the mood to give in to the evil weed. They all complemented me on my appearance for which I thanked them gratefully. It was time to head off to the ball park.

We got there early enough to get seats three rows behind the dugout. The crowd turnout was higher than I’d expected. I figured with this being the last week of summer vacation that everyone would be on a beach somewhere. This was the second time that the Waves would be facing the Cumberland County Crows. I suppose I’d been lax in my role of girlfriend/wife. Most of them kept up to date scrapbooks of their boyfriends’ accomplishments. I’d never even given the idea a passing thought.

I watched Sam stroll out to the mound and take his warm up tosses. He looked strong and confident. The hesitation that I’d sensed in him the last time I saw him pitch was gone. He looked ready to take on the world. He granted me a huge smile as I made my presence known to him from the stands. When he turned his head away, it was back to business. The smile disappeared, his eyebrows knit, and the only thing that he saw was the catcher’s glove in front of him.

The team stood in position as the national anthem was played. It was time for the game to begin. I found my eyes searching frantically for signs of Dr. Feingold. I only hoped that she wouldn’t be needed. The game began. Sam seemed to be on a mission. His pitches had a pop that I’d never really noticed before. His determination made me realize that he had his own demons to deal with. He made short work of the Crows in the top of the first. Three up, three down.

I almost wished we were sitting on the opposite side of the field, so I could watch him with his teammates while they were in the dugout. For a moment, I considered walking around the stadium while the Waves were at bat. The stadium was pretty full though and in the end I calmed myself down and remained seated. It seems the Crows’ pitcher had his own ideas about who was going to win this game. The bottom of the first resembled the top; three up, three down.

Sam and Billy seemed to be getting along just fine as the Waves headed back out for the top of the second. I was finished trying to understand that relationship. After the things Billy had said, I found it hard to believe that Sam would associate himself with him in any way whatsoever. But, Sam was a big boy and would simply make his own choices.
The top of the second went as quickly as the top of the first. I was glad for that at least.

Mom, Aunt Mel, and Aunt Alice seemed to be having a good time. Smiling, laughing, and sharing stories with one another. I was somewhat amazed that none of them shared my worry. Maybe I was being unreasonable? Sam led off the bottom of the second. He took the second pitch over the center field wall, just missing another free steak dinner. He trotted purposefully around the bases. He made no attempt to show up the opposing pitcher. He was just doing his job.

The game continued on in that fashion till the fifth inning. A bit of bile rose up in my throat as I recalled Sam’s last fifth inning on the pitcher’s mound. I calmed down as I watched him throw his warm ups. This wasn’t the same Sam. He was fully rested and at the top of his game as he continued mowing down the opposition. As the inning ended there was a buzz in the stadium. Sam had a shot at his second perfect game of the season.

It had been years since anyone had thrown a perfect game, and no one had ever thrown two of them. He came up in the bottom of the fifth with a man on base and hit another ball over the fence. This time over the right field wall. I was so happy for him that I wanted to burst. I got caught up in the excitement and for a time, my worries dissolved around me. The crowd was in quiet mode and began clapping as Sam made short work of each opposing batter.

The top of the seventh and last inning finally arrived as Sam strode out to the mound with a huge smile on his face. The Waves were ahead three to nothing. If Sam could just get these next three batters he’d have his perfect game and I could stop worrying about baseball till next year. I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses and prayed.

It was almost as if the Crows had given up. The first two batters went down on called strike threes. Just one more out and it would be over. The crowd was on its feet and cheering with each pitch. The first ball thrown was fouled off and landed just a short ways away from where we were sitting. A cheer went up from the crowd. Suddenly, they simply started clapping. It was in anticipation of a done deal. Sam didn’t hear any of it. The noise did seem to rattle the batter though. Friend and foe alike stood there for my Sam. Five thousand people clapping as one .

The Crows had brought fans of their own and they were standing and clapping in appreciation as well. I squeezed Aunt Mel’s hand tightly and gritted my teeth as Sam threw his next pitch. This one went careening foul down the third base line. Just one more strike and it would all be over. I almost felt like I was going to puke as I held my breath and watched Sam begin his wind up. The stadium followed suit. In anticipation of the final pitch, not a sound was made. Sam smiled at his catcher for the first time that day as he released the ball. It seemed to travel in slow motion on its way over the heart of the plate.

The batter swung long before the ball ever reached the catcher’s glove. It was over. He’d done it. A perfect game. A perfect ending to a perfect season. The crowd went wild. We were tripping over ourselves in a mad attempt to engage in a group hug. I was so relieved. I really wanted to go and wait outside the locker room for him, but having been slapped down in the past, I refused to go. Aunt Melissa was more than a bit annoyed with me. She pushed me out of the way and went to wait for him herself.

I wasn’t hopeful that she’d return at some point with Sam, and I wasn’t disappointed. As the game began winding down I was considering calling Fred and Darla and asking them if we could reschedule for tomorrow. But, I knew in my heart that his plans for the evening wouldn’t include me. With Sam’s insistence on celebrating with his friends, I was determined to not be at home waiting for him to return. Why the hell did I continue to put myself through this? OK, time to calm down and take a cleansing breath.

This was a major accomplishment for him and he deserved some time to celebrate the victory with his friends. On a rational level, I understood and appreciated that. On an emotional level I was devastated. Rightly or wrongly, I felt that I’d been slapped down one more time. The grownups seemed rooted to their seats. The game was over, the stands were nearly empty, yet they refused to move. I told them that I’d meet them at the car and walked away.

I was mad at myself to begin with and even more so as I took a cigarette out of my purse and lit it. If I could have walked home, I would have. I was in no mood to celebrate Sam’s victory in his absence. I hurriedly wrote a brief note telling them I’d see them all at home, stuck it under mom’s windshield wiper, and ran off for the bus stop. I really needed to be alone.

A few guys tried to engage me in conversation while waiting. I stared at them with steely eyes without replying. A few rude comments of bitch and lesbian were thrown my way as they finally moved off in disgust. Their verbal attacks reminded me of what I’d be walking into in just three days time. Only problem, the potential attacks facing me were of an even more vile nature. I willed myself away and went into total shut down mode as I stood there cursing the providers of public transportation for existing...