Radclyffe - Love On Call

Chapter Sixteen

Softball was a lot more interesting than Mari had ever realized. Maybe it was the players she found fascinating, though, and not the details of the game. One player in particular. She tended to forget the score and the number of outs, being mostly too busy watching Glenn. Glenn played the game the way she did everything else, with a singular focus that showed in her every movement, from the way she ran directly out onto the field with her baseball glove tucked under her arm, racing to her position, to settling into a loose-limbed stance, poised and ready for action. And watching, always watching. Her attentiveness was one of the things Mari liked most about Glenn—no matter what she was doing, evaluating a patient, instructing a student, listening while Mari talked, she was so unwaveringly there, totally engaged. Being around Glenn, when they talked in the ER hallway or relaxed across from each other in the pizza place, she knew without a doubt she was seen. It wasn’t as if Glenn had tunnel vision and shut out the rest of the world—just the opposite. Glenn was aware of everything . She constantly took in all the activity going on around them, as if to be sure she was never taken by surprise. Every time the door opened to admit a new customer or someone appeared from around the corner at the end of a hall, her gaze would flicker for just a second in that direction, as if she was assessing the threat level, determining friend or foe. And just as quickly her attention would swing back to Mari, one hundred percent.

After years of feeling as if she was only partially visible, to family and friends and even herself, Mari exulted in the sensation of being seen at last. No more hiding—and now that Glenn knew all her secrets, or probably all that mattered, she couldn’t take solace in the shadows even if she’d wanted to. In the weeks since she’d left LA, her life had turned upside down.

But she could handle it. She had to. She had nothing to go back to.

“Ooh, this guy can hit,” Margie exclaimed. “He homered a couple of times in the last game against us.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Blake muttered as if recalling some grievous injury. “He pulls right, though, and Glenn wasn’t playing the night he homered. He got a break, that’s all.”

Mari perked up at the sound of Glenn’s name and studied the batter. Unassuming enough, she would have thought. A slim, young guy she recognized from X-ray swung the bat in an easy motion and didn’t look to be all that strong. He swung and missed the first ball. The next he watched pass over the plate with barely a glance. Then he coiled just a little tighter, his front leg stretching out as Carrie released the ball, and his bat sliced the air almost too quickly for Mari to follow. The ball streaked away with a sharp crack in Glenn’s direction. Over her head. Too high for her to possibly reach.

Mari caught her breath, edged forward on the bench while people yelled encouragement and many jumped to their feet. For just an instant Glenn seemed not to move at all, but merely lifted her head as the ball soared toward her, then she angled her shoulder, her gaze still fixed upward, and ran back and back, almost to the rear wall, as the ball arced down. With a fluid sweep of her arm, she lofted her glove and the bullet-like projectile seemed to fall into it as if that had been its only intention. As if she had drawn it to her like a magnet.

Mari knew the feeling. Glenn was magnetic.

She cheered with everyone else as Glenn’s team streaked off the field. She didn’t know the precise score, but she didn’t have any doubt that Glenn’s team had won when everyone on the bench around her jumped up, hooting loudly. She found herself caught on the wave of jubilation, amazed at the delight that buoyed her spirits. The winning wasn’t what really mattered, but the camaraderie, the common bond of supporting the team, most of whom were actually strangers, united her with the people around her. It was hard to feel alone in that raucous, high-spirited community.

Abby climbed down and stood next to Mari in the aisle. “I’m surprised they haven’t recruited you yet.”

“Actually, that was just about the first thing Carrie said to me,” Mari said with a laugh. “But I convinced her I’m much more valuable as a cheerleader than a player.”

“Everyone has their purpose.” Abby nodded solemnly and broke into a grin. “A bunch of us are headed out to the pub for beer and burgers. Or just beer, or just burgers. Or in my case, gravy fries. You’re welcome to come.”

Mari almost said yes before a sudden wave of uncertainty caught back the words. She wasn’t sure she could be around Glenn any more tonight without obsessing over the conversation they’d just had, and what and how things had changed. She was emotionally exhausted from reliving the last year and didn’t have the reserves to absorb any more pain for a few hours, and the distance that had descended between her and Glenn hurt. And, she admitted ever so fleetingly, she didn’t want to discover she was no longer the focus of Glenn’s attention. At war with herself, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll head home. I’m starting nights tomorrow, and I want to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay. See you at the barbecue tomorrow?”

Before Mari could answer, Carrie appeared beside them, her flushed face alight. “Hey, great game, huh?”

“Fabulous,” Abby said.

From the row behind them, Presley yelled, “Super pitching, Ace.”

“But of course.” Carrie looked at Mari. “Have fun?”

“It was great,” Mari said, meaning the words this time.

“You’re coming out with us, right?”

“Not tonight.”

“You sure? Do you drink beer?”

“Ah—now and then.” That was sort of true, although Mari rarely drank anything at all. Spirits were not something her parents considered proper casual drinking, and since she’d barely dated, she didn’t have much reason to drink. When she’d gone out on occasion with the others in her training program, she’d usually stuck to something nonalcoholic. And then, when she got sick, alcohol was off the table.

“Bottoms Up has a great assortment on tap, anyhow,” Carrie said. “And decent food. You sure?”

“I’ll take a rain check.”

“Okay. So I’ll pick you up about nine tomorrow.”

“Sorry?”

“Remember, you’re getting a tour of my soon-to-be new house before we head over to the farm. I think there’ll be Lila’s biscuits.”

“Oh—well, there’s the barbecue in the afternoon and—”

“Right. We’re having a little get-together at our place, to review the last-minute details for Presley’s wedding. Then we can all head over to the barbecue together.”

Mari glanced at Presley, who had joined them. “Oh, well, I don’t want to intrude.”

Presley waved her hand. “Believe me, we love all the input we can get. This wedding is a group venture. You’re more than welcome.”

“Nine o’clock,” Carrie called, as she turned and scrambled back down the crowded aisle.

“Well, okay,” Mari said in defeat. She followed along with the throng of people clambering down the bleachers and finally found a clear space to catch her breath and figure out where she was. She was pretty sure she remembered the direction Glenn had driven, and it wasn’t very far at all from the center of town. All of a sudden, she really looked forward to a few moments of being alone to regroup.

“Carrie says you’re not going out with us,” Glenn said, materializing by her side.

“No, I thought I’d call it an early night.” Mari smiled. “Congratulations on winning the game.”

A quicksilver smile flashed across Glenn’s face, adding warmth to her cool attractiveness that was disconcertingly captivating. “It was a bit of a cakewalk, but we’ll take it now and then.”