Pinch hitter: A substitute batter. Often brought in during a critical situation (a "pinch") to replace a weak batter or as a situational substitute.
Present day...
Her phone rang so many times, he was expecting her voicemail when she answered.
"So you and the model are done?" she asked without greeting him.
"It was never what it seemed."
She wanted to ask why, but deep down she knew the answer would be like why she wasn't emotionally invested in her relationship with Brandon. He was angry with her, because she refused to join him on a trip to The Cape with his frat boys. She didn't like them, especially Paul who had moved on from Kim, but not alcohol.
"And you're calling me to tell me the real reason they scratched you. By the way, Carlos is calling a good game."
She hoped to get a rise out of him by praising his replacement who was a decent catcher, but had a batting average below two-fifty. Two hits in ten attempts wouldn't help win games.
"I need a favor... I... um might have volunteered you by mistake."
"For what? Baseball consultant! I'm in!"
He laughed. "You wish. Seriously, the wives are writing a book for kids learning to read and you have experience so..."
"I'm not one of the wives. I wouldn't fit in."
"Kenze, they asked me first if Sabrina would help. Could you just go to the meeting? It's for a good cause."
Was he begging? She could have fun teasing him. She had seen those wives. They always wore expensive clothes with their huge diamonds. They performed volunteer work while she dodged snot and vomit. Her pride told her her education and experience could help them. She could save the day or they could eat her alive.
Not willing to give in too easy, she demanded, "Tell me why you were scratched."
He sighed. "It's nothing. My hammy's a little tight. It's being treated now."
"Don't push it!" She remembered when he missed half of his freshman season because he pushed himself too hard. He had wanted to prove he was a better catcher than Danny and ended up losing out.
"I know. I'm not eighteen and stupid."
The words, you were never stupid, were on the tip of her tongue. Instead she said, "You are for going out with that woman."
"Listen, the whole city thinks I'm nursing a broken heart. That's punishment enough."
"The city! Try the state and a few others too."
"And you agreed to be my friend again. So just put me out of my misery. Will you help me or not?"
"What would I need to do?" she asked reluctantly.
"There's a meeting on Thursday. I'll send you the information."
"You know they'll eat me alive."
"No, they won't unless you critique their husbands. Women don't like that."
"Well, if they need the help." She teased.
"Kenzie!" He warned her like she was the six-year-old. Then his voice softened, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
"Take care of it! You're not that kind of godfather."
She heard Jett laughing as he bid her goodbye and hung up. A few minutes later a pan of the dug out showed him cheering on a teammate who had just scored the tying run.
Kenzie pulled her no-frills car up in front of the huge house in Newton. It was so enormous, she should have arrived five minutes early just to walk up the drive. She didn't park in the driveway with all those other cars. They looked similar to Jett's — expensive with dark windows. Did her brother drive a car like that or was it a Boston thing?
Her feet felt like lead as she walked towards the imposing wooden double doors with ornate glass in the center. She knew all about the money in baseball. Her brother and Jett had a piece of the pie, but in her eyes they were just who they had always been — the boys who loved the game and played every minute they could often in her backyard. Even the doorbell chime sounded wealthy.
She was looking down at her summer dress, hoping she looked alright when the door opened by an older woman Kenzie recognized.
She smiled and said, "You must be Kenzie. Jett asked me to keep an eye on you. I'm Allie."
Kenzie just nodded with her mouth awkwardly agape. She knew Allie was the manager's wife. When Jett said he'd take care of it, she never imagined he'd find her a powerful ally.
Recovering she said, "Jett knows I need someone to keep me in line."
Allie laughed. "I thought he wanted me to keep the gaggle in there in line."
Kenzie returned her laugh, as she followed her into an enormous formal living room decorated with way too much white. She announced to a group of at least ten women, "This is Kenzie she's Jett's teacher friend."
Kenzie stood smiling like an idiot as she felt twenty eyes assessing her. Each one was thinking she wasn't good enough for Jett. It would probably surprise them she agreed. After they finished comparing her to the model, a beautiful woman approached her.
"Hi, I'm Rose. Welcome to my home. Come on, y'all let's get down to work."
A woman younger than Kenzie asked her where she taught. When Kenzie told her the public school district, she could hear the silent scoff. She worked in a poor community with underfunding for a reason and refused to defend herself.
Allie said, "Oh my, if what Jett says is true they are lucky to have you. Were you his classmate at both North Hills Academy and BC?"
Kenzie felt herself blush. Did he give Allie a dossier on her? She nodded and stammered, "He and my brother are best friends."
She saw a few nods of acceptance and some expressionless faces. Before anyone could find more fault, Allie said, "My husband said the only reason he doesn't worry about your brother's bat is because Jett knows it so well."
Without thinking, she said, "They were taught by the best."
Allie smiled. "Let's not overwhelm Kenzie with introductions. We all know how intimidating that can be. Nothing's worse than being a rookie's wife."
Kenzie was not anyone's wife. Looking around, she knew many of the women and wondered if being the mistress turned second wife was worse than being the rookie's wife?
Rose said, "Now ladies, Caitlin has written a draft for us to review."
The younger woman who was obviously a rookie's wife stood and accepted the spotlight comfortably. She passed out a packet to every woman. Kenzie began reading the first page and kept count in her head of every word a first grader wouldn't be able to read.
She sat quietly while Caitlin soaked up the praise from her friends. Allie turned towards her.
"I'd like to hear from someone who teaches children to read."
She felt the heat creep up her neck into her cheeks. She started with positive feedback. "The story itself is great. It had a beginning, middle and end including a problem and a solution. Those are elements they are striving for in their own writing in first grade."
It was Allie who said, "But..."
She smiled a weak smile, "The vocabulary is difficult. Children learn strategies to decode words. Take baseball for example, they can look for word chunks they know like 'ball' and then they can use the illustrations for clues. So they can read it, but other words that don't follow straight English rules can be hard. She listed off a half a dozen from the first page."
Thankfully another woman said, "She's right. I read with my Kayleigh and she wouldn't be able to read those words."
Caitlin scowled and Rose had a smile pasted on, as she said, "Well I guess we have more work to do then. Perhaps you and Caitlin could meet and revise our story. Quickly moving along. Who are my artists?" A few tentative hands went up. "I think you can begin your sketches, regardless."
Another woman spoke up, and said, "Will she have feedback on our pictures too?"
Kenzie shook her head. "Just as long as the illustrations are pleasing to the eye. I'm not an artist."
She refrained from commenting on how the woman ruined a family by having an affair with her husband. She had no patience for women who acted like her mother.
She wondered if anyone knew she was sweating. She felt like she had a pool under her arms. She had to face a slew of questions.
"Did you meet Sabrina? Isn't she beautiful?" Yes, she is visually perfect. She responded, "Yes, and she is beautiful."
"Do you know Jett's daughter?" That response was easy. "Yes, I know the little girl that the press portrays as his daughter." She wanted to say, Jet was busy kissing some other co-ed while she was being conceived. She added, "I promised I would visit her today, so I need to be going."
She breathed a sigh of relief when Allie ushered her out the door. She was certain the rest would spend the next hour ripping her apart. Unfortunately, she had a meeting scheduled with Caitlin the first of the week. Maybe Maisy could help her write the story.