“I’m just trying to teach them a lesson and make it fun,” Abby said.
“Okay, team!” Charlie shouted. “We’re going to split in half again and play a practice inning. Anyone who lifts a base is an automatic out!”
“Party pooper,” Abby muttered.
“What?” Charlie asked.
“Sounds super,” Abby said quickly.
“But I want to bat some more!” Claire complained.
“You’ll get your chance,” Charlie said. “Everyone over here — now!”
Out went Claire’s lower lip.
I was fed up with Charlie’s bullying. I stomped down the first-base line toward him. “Abby was in the middle of batting practice, Charlie.”
Charlie glared at me. “So?”
“So? You’re not the only coach here.”
“Okay, fine. You’re the boss. Maybe you don’t need my help anymore.”
“I didn’t say that, Charlie —”
“You know, I don’t have to be here,” Charlie retorted. “If it weren’t for the kids, I might not be. I didn’t think I’d spend my vacation being used by my sister.”
Scream. Yell. Bop him over the head with home plate. That’s what I wanted to do.
But I choked it all back. I did not want the Krushers to see their coaches fighting. Besides, Charlie was right. Sort of.
“Go ahead, but please let Claire bat first,” I said patiently, then stormed away to the bench.
Abby piped up, “All kids with vowels in their names, to my right. All kids with consonants in their names, to my left!”
“What if you have both?” asked Jackie.
The kids were running around, bumping into each other, giggling.
Angelica began laughing. Then Charlie did, too.
Me? At that moment, I didn’t find anything very funny.
Soon Charlie began barking instructions, and the kids all jumped to it. Good old Abby was making jokes, trying her hardest to keep everyone happy.
One coach for discipline, one for fun. My team had everything it needed. Boy, did I feel unnecessary.
I could not look at Charlie. Angelica was now standing next to him wherever he went.
They would not stop yammering. I couldn’t hear a word they were saying, but I could tell the topic of conversation was not softball.
Abby, however, was standing near them, and overheard every word they said.
“Your sister looks so upset,” Angelica remarked softly.
“Sure,” Charlie said with a little snorting laugh. “You’re here.”
“She doesn’t like me?” Angelica replied.
“Remember that lunch she took me to yesterday?” Charlie went on. “The special one between her and me, that you couldn’t go to? Well, there was a reason she didn’t want you there —”
Abby to the rescue. “Uh … Charlie! I think we need some outfield coaching. Matt’s up.”
Matt Braddock is a great hitter, but the outfield was playing way too shallow.
“Back up!” Charlie yelled.
Thump-thump-thump-thump went the players.
Charlie turned to Angelica again. Quickly Abby asked, “So, what’d you think of that Yankees game last night?”
“Didn’t see it,” Charlie said over his shoulder. “See, she had called my old girlfriend, Sarah …”
Abby was cringing. She could see Angelica’s face sag as Charlie told her the story of the Argo.
When he finished, Angelica was lighting up a cigarette and scowling. “Well, do you still, you know, like this girl?”
Charlie laughed. “Nahhh, we broke up. She’s okay, though. After Kristy told me the truth, I called her. Just to apologize about being a jerk. I mean, it wasn’t her fault. She was cool. We’re buds. But that’s all.”
Charlie put his arm around Angelica, and she snuggled against him.
I mean, really, can you be more obvious?
“Oooooh,” said Linny Papadakis.
“Charlie and Angelica, sitting in a tree …” Scott began singing.
The kids giggled.
Angelica giggled.
Charlie was too macho to giggle. He laughed heroically.
I forced myself not to barf.
Abby tried desperately to make jokes. And she vowed never to tell me that Charlie had spilled the news to Angelica.
“He told her what?”
Flabbergasted. Betrayed. Humiliated. That’s how I felt.
Abby did not keep her vow. She waited until Charlie drove us home, then invited me over to her house. We were strolling up her walk when she told me.
“Kristy, I’m sorry,” Abby said. “I was going to keep my mouth shut about it. But I thought it wouldn’t be fair to you. You needed to know. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Upset? I’m not upset. Why should I care what Angelica knows?”
“Good, I was hoping you’d take it that way.”
“Charlie won’t talk to me. Sarah won’t talk to me. And now Charlie’s new girlfriend hates my guts. Upset? Me?”
Abby put her hand on my shoulder. “Come on inside and relax.”
Anna’s violin playing was echoing through the house. It was some sad classical piece. I felt as if I were in an old black-and-white movie. It didn’t do wonders for my mood.
“How dare he?” I said, pacing around the kitchen. “This was between me and him and Sarah!”
Abby brought out a bag of pretzels and a bottle of soda. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Kristy, but maybe you should put yourself in his shoes. I mean, what you did was not exactly kosher.”
I exhaled hard. “Yeah, I know. It was dumb.”
“Hey, once in awhile we all do something really boneheaded. Even the great Kristy Thomas.”
“Still, I did apologize to him. He didn’t have to spread it around. If you heard him, others must have, too. How am I going to show my face at Klinic again?”
“Try this.” Abby crossed her eyes and curled up her lips.
I ignored the joke. “Now she must think I hate her.”
“You do hate her.”
“I do not! I don’t even know her.”
“Well, it looks like you probably will, Kristy. You should have heard some of the other gooshy stuff they were saying to each other.”
“I noticed. He was more interested in her than the players.”
“That’s all right. I kept them busy.”
“But what about when you’re away, Abby? He’s supposed to help me. I mean, my brother’s love life is his business, but when he’s at the Krusher Klinic, he’s on Krusher time.”
“Tell him that, Kristy.”
“It’s not so easy. He’s doing me a favor. I’m lucky he’s still showing up. If I make him even angrier, he’ll quit. I’ll be stranded.”
Abby nodded. “Listen, Kristy, whatever you do, don’t tell him I told you what I heard. Then he’ll know that I know that Angelica knows about what you did at the Argo.”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. I won’t.”
I felt trapped. I couldn’t tell anyone anything.
Did I deserve this? I’d tried to do the right thing. I’d tried to do something nice for my brother. Something that would make him happy. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the smartest way to do it, but the intention was good.
The whole thing had blown up in my face.
I should have minded my own business. I should have just left well enough alone and concentrated on running the softball clinic. Even that was slipping out of my hands. My players didn’t know I existed.
How did everything become so complicated?
“Some spring break,” I muttered.
I stayed at Abby’s the rest of the afternoon. She tried so hard to make me feel better. She convinced Anna to play me some fiddle music she’d learned. That was cool. Then Abby called Claudia and invited her over. Claudia brought a new outfit she’d put together for the Blade concert. Abby and Anna oohed and aahed over it. (To me, it looked like something Cinderella migh
t have thrown out — although I didn’t tell Claudia that.)
Claudia offered to take me shopping for the concert. I said no way, José.
We then rushed over to Claud’s house for a BSC meeting. By the time I went home for dinner, my mood had lifted a little. As I walked up the front lawn, the Junk Bucket was pulling out of the driveway.
Mom was on the porch, waving to Charlie.
“Where’s he going?” I asked.
“Out on a date,” Mom replied with a smile. “Some new girlfriend.”
“Cool,” I said.
I walked inside. I went straight to the kitchen. Calmly, coolly, I helped prepare dinner.
I was determined not to be upset about anything. Okay, so now Charlie was dating Angelica. It was official. Sarah was a thing of the past. No big surprise.
It was my brother’s life. Not my concern.
From now on, I was going to mind my own business.
* * *
Late that night the sound of the Junk Bucket awoke me from my sleep. I heard the engine sputter and stop. A few minutes later I caught a whiff of Charlie’s cologne wafting upstairs and heard Mom’s footsteps trudging downstairs.
They managed to keep their argument pretty soft, although I did hear Charlie say, “But the movie didn’t end until midnight!”
I smiled. Let Charlie get into trouble for a change.
I fell asleep again and didn’t awaken until my alarm went off at eight in the morning. I’d scheduled Krusher Klinic for nine-thirty that day, and David Michael was still snoozing away. I practically had to carry him downstairs to breakfast.
The kitchen rang out with a chorus of good mornings. Nannie was feeding Emily. I could hear Sam singing in the downstairs shower.
Charlie was deep in conversation on the kitchen phone. As I went to the cereal cupboard, I heard him hang up and shout, “Yyyyesss!”
“What’s up?” I asked.
He was racing to the back door. “You’ll find out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Having breakfast with a friend.”
Uh-huh. Right.
“Breakfast, too?” I said. “Why don’t you just move in with her family?”
“Kristyyyy,” Nannie said.
“Whose family?” David Michael asked.
“Never mind!” Charlie gave me a sharp look, then raced toward the door. “See you at Klinic.”
“Wait!” I said. “How are we supposed to get there?”
“Can you drive them, Nannie?” Charlie shouted over his shoulder.
“I can,” Nannie said. “And I think I may.”
David Michael and I wolfed down breakfast. When Nannie was ready, she drove us to SES.
We arrived way early, but guess what? About half the team was already there, playing catch with their parents and sitters. They were all laughing and having a great time.
“Good team spirit,” Nannie remarked as David Michael and I stepped out.
“The Klinic has really helped,” I replied. “Thanks for the ride, Nannie.”
Walking onto the field, I breathed in the sweet smell of new-mown grass. The sun warmed my face, and the breeze was so cool and fresh I felt I could drink it.
Mr. Pike was smacking grounders. The Krusher infielders were eagerly chasing the ball (even fielding it occasionally).
I could not help grinning. This — this was how the Klinic was supposed to be. Good energy, hard work, fun. A foolproof winning formula.
Bart’s Bashers, be prepared.
“Way to go, guys!” I called out.
By nine-thirty, Charlie still hadn’t shown. Neither had the Hsu boys or Angelica (surprise, surprise). I started the practice anyway. Completely solo.
You know what? I didn’t mind at all. It felt great to be number one again.
“Okay, everybody in the outfield!” I called out. “Jumping jacks!”
I love doing calisthenics with the kids. They think it’s so funny. They dance around like monkeys. Their sit-ups and push-ups are hilarious. Why do I make them do it? For team spirit. They loosen up and start off the practice eager and happy.
That, to me, is what good coaching is all about.
We were halfway through a base-running drill when the Hsu kids ran onto the field. Angelica and Charlie were trotting along behind them.
“Sorry!” Angelica called out. “We burned some of the pancake batter.”
She nudged Charlie in the ribs. He smiled in an aw-shucks-it-was-my-fault way.
Oh, groan.
“Okay, team, let’s split up!” I cried out. “We need to concentrate on fly balls —”
“Hold it!” Charlie interrupted. “I need the whole team here, front and center!”
Forget about fly balls. The kids were around Charlie in a second.
His face was flushed with excitement. “I have fantastic news. How many of you know who Jack Brewster is?”
About half the kids nodded.
“Hall of Famer for the Mets!” Jake said.
“Right,” Charlie replied. “And he is going to be our guest coach the day after tomorrow!”
This was news to me.
“YAAAAAAY!” The Krushers were jumping all over each other with excitement.
“We need to show him how good we are,” Charlie said, “so let’s hit the field and practice!”
The kids ran back into position. Kindly but firmly, I asked Charlie, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I only found out this morning,” Charlie said with a shrug. “And I wanted it to be a surprise.”
With that, he strolled back to the stands, where Angelica was sitting.
I ran the fly ball practice. I hit more grounders. I gave lots of individual tips.
Where was Charlie while this was going on? Guess. Four times I had to call him onto the field. Four times he helped out a little, barking out commands. Then — zzzzzip! — back to his number-one fan.
Soon the kids were looking sharp. They were ready for a few practice innings, so I organized teams.
“Okay, I’ll be behind first,” I announced, “and Charlie will umpire —”
I looked toward the stands. Charlie wasn’t there.
“Charlie?” I called out.
“There he is!” said Suzi Barrett, pointing toward the school playground.
There, inside the chain-link fence, Charlie and Angelica were soaring up and down on the swings.
“Charlieeeee!” I shouted.
He waved. He stopped pumping his legs.
I turned back to the game. “Let’s start without him,” I grumbled.
Suzi was up first and hit a single. Then Matt hit a triple, sending her home. The third batter was Laurel. She hit a slow grounder to the pitcher’s area.
Linny raced in and tossed it to first. Buddy caught it just as Laurel stepped on the base.
“Out!” Buddy called.
“Safe!” Laurel said.
“Kristyyyyyyyy, what was it?” Buddy cried out.
The truth? I hadn’t seen. I’d been blocked by the catcher. Charlie was supposed to be the ump.
I glanced toward the playground. Now the swings were empty. In the distance, just beyond the school, I spotted two familiar figures, strolling arm in arm.
About ten players had crowded around first base, crying “Out!” and “Safe!” at the top of their lungs.
“Time out!” I yelled as I ran to Mrs. DeWitt. “Would you keep an eye on them for a minute while I go get my brother?”
She agreed, and I sprinted away.
Charlie and Angelica were in mid-laugh when I reached them. As if they had all the time in the world. “Uh, excuse me!” I called out. “Where are you going?”
Charlie glanced at me, then looked at Angelica and rolled his eyes. “For a walk, Kristy.”
As if I were a nincompoop. An annoying, dumb, bossy little nincompoop sister.
My blood was boiling. “In case you forgot, the clinic is behind you.”
“You seem to be doing fine
, Kristy,” Charlie said.
“So you can just wander away without saying anything? You can simply walk in, tell everybody about Jack Brewster, be a big hero, and then abandon your team?”
“Will you lighten up, Kristy? I’m not abandoning it. Look, I agreed to help you. Haven’t I been doing that?”
“But you’re the official co-coach.”
“I don’t have a contract. I’m free to do whatever I want —”
“That sounds familiar,” I shot back. “I guess it runs in the family, huh? Now that you’re so grown up, you can act just like Dad?”
Charlie spun around. He looked flabbergasted. “I can’t believe you said that, Kristy.”
“Sometimes the truth hurts,” I replied, storming back to the field.
Mary Anne is to sports what I am to high fashion. She never goes near the stuff.
Normally she’d be the last person I’d ask to coach. But I was desperate. Klinic was about to start, and Charlie was nowhere to be seen. That morning he’d stomped out of the house without saying a word. He hadn’t spoken to me since our argument, almost a whole day earlier.
Poor Mary Anne. She wasn’t suspecting a thing. As she walked onto the field with Jamie, she was clutching a paperback book, looking forward to a nice, quiet morning of reading.
“So the ball was coming to me like this: nyeeeeeeeeaar …” Jamie said, imitating the flight of the ball with one arm. “And I went like this.” He backpedaled, waving his arms. “And the ball went like this — pop!” He acted out a dramatic catch.
Mary Anne nodded patiently. “Uh-huh … wow.”
“Mary Anne!” I said, running to her. “Charlie’s not here yet. Can you hit some grounders?”
You should have seen her face. It was as if I’d asked her to cut down a tree with her teeth. “Well, uh, sure, I guess, but —”
“Thanks,” I said, turning back to the practice. “You’re a great pal.”
“Wait, Kristy!” Mary Anne called out. “One question. What are they?”
“What are what?”
“Grounders.”
Hoo, boy. “Ground balls. You know, you hit them? I’ll set up the tee. It’ll be easy.”
Jamie was now reenacting his catch for a small audience of Krusher fielders. I fetched Mary Anne a bat, then put the tee at home plate. Mary Anne stepped up to the right side of the plate cautiously, as if it were the hole at the top of a volcano.