Field of Schemes (31 page)

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” the girl squeaked.

“Gimme a break,” the mother snapped. “You’re eight. There’s nothing to cover up anyway.”

Lil and I looked at each other in shock. “Touching, isn’t it?” I said.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Lil said to the mother. The mother’s and child’s heads whipped around to see what the stranger wanted. “That child needs sunscreen if she’s going to walk around without a shirt. She’ll burn to a crisp on a day like this.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, lady?!” the mother snapped. “I know how to handle my own kid.”

“Have it your way,” Lil said. “For the record, that’s what Lizzie Borden’s mother used to say too.”

I muffled a laugh while the mother stood dumbfounded for a few seconds. “Put your shirt back on,” the mother said, tossing the jersey at her daughter.

“Who’s Lizzie Borden?” the girl asked.

“Never you mind about Lizzie Borden. Put the shirt on.”

After they were well out of earshot, Lil said, “That’s what I call pulling a Claire.”

“Oh please,” I teased. “All she was armed with was funnel cake, and it didn’t look like she was about to give that up.”

Lil pouted playfully. “She had a fork. We can’t all put ourselves in the path of dangerous signatories.”

When we reached the field, even the Normals were shouting zealously. I knew we’d lost the first game and were down two goals at halftime of this one. “What’s the score?” I asked Darcy, setting our seats next to her.

“Three-zero, we’re losing,” she said, shoveling spiral pasta salad into her mouth. “You have got to try some of this. Giovanna’s grandmother brought like seven different pasta salads for lunch. We’ve got tons of leftovers,” she said, nodding over in Paulo’s and his mother’s direction. “She said the girls are too skinny and need some meat on their bones.” Needless to say, it’s a good thing that Mimi doesn’t speak Italian and Carla doesn’t speak English because there was a definite difference of opinion on that one.

“I miss all the good stuff,” I said.

Darcy protested with her mouth full. After she finished her bite, she said, “The pen thing was still the highlight of the day, but it’s been a day of drama.” Lil leaned in to hear the gossip. “Mimi’s now on the warpath saying that Gunther’s the cause of our poor performance.”

“Why would she say that?” Lil asked.

“Because we’re losing,” Darcy explained.

Dave walked over and asked how my leg was doing. “It’ll heal,” I dismissed.

“I need to talk to you,” he said in that
we need to talk
way.

“Um, okay,” I said.

As we walked away from the crowd, Dave inquired about my prognosis. Then about my sister. Then finally, he cut to the chase. “Claire, you know I like you.” I nodded and assured that I felt the same. “Yeah, well, I think we need to hold off on any sort of, you know, relationship.”

He froze mid-word. I looked around the field. Fathers’ mouths hung open mid-scream and players stood still on the field. In an instant, action resumed. “You do?” I asked.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Claire, I don’t think you’re ready to date yet,” he said. “Or maybe it’s me, I don’t know. In any case, all the cancellations, the whole hospital photography thing. It’s a hint and a half for a guy.”

“No, no!” I said, panicked. “I’m just playing hard to get, that’s all.”

He laughed slightly. “I wish that were true, Claire. We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course,” I said, devastated by the thought of losing him as a friend.

“So, let’s keep it that way and stay in touch, and who knows what’ll happen later.”

Lil turned from her chair to see what was going on between Dave and me.
Just getting dumped. Be back with you in a moment, Lil!

“Okay,” I said, holding back tears. “I’m sorry that—I wish I was more together right now.”

Dave smiled. This man was more pure-hearted than anyone I’d ever known. “Don’t lose my number. I’ll take you back in a New York minute.”

“But I’m not dumping
you
!”

“Claire,” he said, correcting me with his tone. “You dumped me weeks ago. I’m only saying the words aloud. It’s okay. I understand.”

The girls returned to Santa Bella without a single victory, much less a fist full of medals. Still, they were giddy with tales of Rachel’s mother being stabbed in the butt with John Hancock’s pen. The pen never made it anywhere near my butt, but the girls liked this visual far too much to let accuracy interfere with a good story.

As we made our way back to my minivan, Gunther called out to me. He jogged up and said that Rachel had played well at the tournament. “You didn’t see last game. She play a smart game. I have high hopes for Rachel Emmett,” he said in his Germanic clip. I thanked him, not only for the tournament, but for the special interest he seemed to be taking in my daughter. At practice, he often used her as a demonstrator and seemed to soften when he spoke to her. I wanted to ask him why he’d taken Rachel under his wing, but it wasn’t the sort of thing you asked without sounding suspicious of his motives, which I was not. Instead, I just told him how much being on the team meant to Rachel. “I know,” he said. “I was Rachel once.” Thinking Gunther really had bumbled his English this time, I started to correct him, but he continued before I could do so. “I was seven years old when my mother died in the car crash. I play soccer all day every time I could. Instead of crying, I practice penalty kick. Instead of feeling mad at driver, I kick ball. By time I am ten, I am so good with ball that I can go anywhere on field with it, and no one can take it away from me. In soccer, I am in charge of what happens,” Gunther explained. “My father cry all the time until he come to my futbol game. Then he see me play and he is happy again. Futbol give me life. Soccer make my father put his shoes on and come out of the house to see me play.”

I smiled. Soccer is life. I get it now.

Dick was banned from all future Patriots Cups. As it turned out, Thomas Jefferson was not Danny Cartwright and never cheated Drunk Dick out of his meager poker winnings. Jefferson, also known as Philip Oberholtzer, filed assault and battery charges and has a permanent restraining order against Dick. “My mistake” was Dick’s big concession as he told a group of parents about the incident at practice the following week. “The guy looked exactly like this fucker who screwed me outta forty bucks.”

Gia told the group that she had “
the
best time” at the tournament. “I missed spring break this year, so this totally helped me blow off steam.”

Spring break? Is Gia still in college?

“Gia, how old are you?” Nancy asked.

“Twenty-four,” she said.

“And you’re a student?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Gia said, fidgeting with her ring. “I took some time off to deal with family stuff though, so I’m not sure when I’ll finish.”

Deal with family stuff! Oh, please, is that what they’re calling blowing your geezer groom these days?

Without an ounce of sarcasm, Darcy added, “Well, if anyone deserves a break, it’s you, Gia. Tell us, how did you wind up on the
Mayflower
?”

“We didn’t want to drive in the morning, so we got to San Luis Obispo the night before. When we were checking in, there was a big fundraiser for the Patriots right there in the grand ballroom, so we were like, there! Anyway, they had this live auction, and I went a little crazy so I could get the super cute Pilgrim costume.”

Before our resident trophy bride could regale us with tales from the
Mayflower
, Mimi stormed over to the cluster of parents. “Parent meeting, now!” she demanded. Darcy and I tried to contain our snickers. There was no need for such a grand proclamation. We were already assembled in the requisite half-moon formation, ready for her to turn our sideline chat into an emergency summit. “We need to get a handle on what’s going on with the team,” she snapped. Sadly, I knew she was referring to the girls’ fitness rather than the need to control alcohol consumption at games. “Gunther’s zoned out during games! He has no clue when to make substitutions and which players have chemistry together.”

I turned to watch Gunther as he led the girls in soccer drills. He looked coherent to me. He was no rousing Knute Rockne, that was for sure, but he seemed to know what he was doing. More importantly, Rachel adored and respected him.

“Hear, hear!” Dick agreed with Mimi.

Gia searched the field.

“She’s right,” Loud Bobby blasted. “Those were some kick-ass teams, but we didn’t have to get shut down as bad as we did.”

Leo added, “That dude’s got his head up his ass.” I almost felt incomplete until he punctuated the sentence with “
Sivious.
”

Nancy’s willingness to speak up always amazed me. “Let’s not forget that the girls were playing in the gold bracket at the Patriots Cup. Of course, they’re not going to fare as well as they did in the bronze.”

“You mean the retard league?” Dick taunted.

Nancy stood straight. “You are vile.”

“I need everyone to focus on our discussion about fitness,” Mimi barked.

We were having a discussion about fitness?

“As manager of this team, I need to start asserting my authority a bit around here!” Mimi told us.
Shit, what exactly had we been experiencing?
“The girls are to meet at my house at 7 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays where I will resume fitness training with them.”

“Does Gunther know about this?” Jessica asked. Her hand was still wrapped in white gauze bandages.

“I don’t need to tell Gunther everything,” Mimi defended. “What I need to do is make decisions that are in the best interest of these girls.”

As I looked at my feet, I remembered Lil’s comment about my running away from uncomfortable situations. It’s not that I hadn’t already made this self-observation. I just didn’t realize how liberating it was to do the opposite. In the moment when I ran into the parade of patriots, and the last time I stood up to Mimi, I felt like the Claire I was when I was Rachel’s age. I felt like the me who hadn’t learned to hide. “Mimi,” I heard my own voice say, “exactly how is scheduling double-secret practices in the best interest of the girls?”

“Right on, double-secret practice.
Animal House!”
Bobby said.

Nancy added her two cents, then Darcy chimed in with her objections. Twenty minutes later, no one was on board with Mimi’s clandestine plan. We all had our different reasons, but the bottom line was that no one was bringing their daughters to an early morning secret fitness training with Mimi.

“How much fatter do these girls need to get before you people start taking this problem seriously?!” Mimi asked as she stormed off.

When practice was over, Cara was left looking around the field for her mother. “Mrs. Emmett, have you seen my mom?”

Heads began scanning the area.

“Don’t worry, Cara,” I assured her. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine too, but I need to get home.”

“I’ll give you a ride, honey,” I told her.