KEEPING SCORE

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Four

            The city of Rockville had a very nice baseball complex with small, pretty, well-attended fields. Unfortunately, none of our games were at that complex. We were at softball fields all over the city. When I checked the tournament website for directions, I noticed that the Saints had all of their games at the complex. Rockville had its own baseball league, but even those teams didn't get treated as well as the Saints.

Luckily, both David and Ron had to work late on Friday, so neither of them made the five o’clock game. I sat with Carol and Melissa. Vanessa had set up on behind the first base line. Whenever I looked in that direction, she glared at me.  

The team we were playing had driven down from New Jersey. They were pumped up and loud. They were "psyched" about being near Washington for the Fourth, and all sorts of other things, too. They cheered in loud annoying New Jersey accents. Melissa shouted, "Hey, Snooki, go back to the Shore," a few times, but if anyone heard her, they didn't respond.

A minor miracle happened that night -- we actually won. Blake and Jordan both pitched very well. We had no errors in the field. Sam made some nice plays at first and hit a single and a double. The final score was 8-4. When it was over, the Mid-County parents hugged each other like it was the last game of the tournament instead of the first.    We all went out for ice cream and an inspirational speech from Mike, who was convinced that this one win meant we were destined to win the entire tournament.

            Our Saturday game started at two, requiring a one o’clock arrival time. July in D.C. is a hot, sticky, humid mess. Our field had no shade whatsoever. Some of the kids had brought tiny fans that sprayed water, but the adults were left hot and panting on the metal bleachers.

            Ron and Brian got there at one. Brian brought his mitt and offered his help to Mike. Mike accepted with such gratitude and enthusiasm, I felt bad for not suggesting it myself. Mike sent half the team to work with Brian on their pitching motions, while he took the other half for batting practice. 

            Ron had lugged a picnic basket into the stands. This turned out to be a mistake. I was starving and ended up devouring most of the drinks and snacks meant for the fireworks. (In my defense, he didn’t pack nearly enough.) Ron assured me he'd run out and get more food for later, but I could tell he was a little annoyed.

            As the boys warmed up, Vanessa paced in the parking lot. I kept checking my email, hoping against hope that David would cancel, but no such luck. Right at two o’clock, his car pulled into the parking lot, and he and Chloe got out.

            The game was just getting underway. We were the visiting team, and Jordan strode out to bat. But the game in the parking lot was a lot more interesting. Would Vanessa attack David? Would Chloe run to his rescue? Or would Vanessa attack Chloe and David would need to rescue her? I waited with baited breath.

            I needed to get a life.

            As soon as David got out of the car, Vanessa ran up to him. I couldn't hear anything or read her lips, but her body language said it all. Her hands were crossed in front of her chest and her hip pointed at him like it was loaded. David's mouth was moving fast, and his arms were all over the place. Chloe stood and watched for a few minutes, then marched off toward the field.

            "Are you actually going to watch the game?" Ron asked.

            “It’s Vanessa and David,” I said. “This is kind of more interesting.” I had filled him in on the whole bizarre love triangle at work earlier in the week.