AT THE BALL GAME AND AFTER

Laura tried to ignore Charlie walking into the kitchen, looking for a snack in the refrigerator, finding nothing, returning to the living room to flip channels on the TV, looking out the window, going back to the kitchen. Both retired for years, Laura had no trouble keeping busy while Charlie still struggled to fill his hours. When he went into the garage she knew he would come back with peppermint on his breath to hide the odor of Seagram’s 7. One day she might take the surreptitious bottle from its toolbox hiding place, but for now she pretended ignorance of it.

He drifted back into the living room where she sat knitting. She said, “No games on TV?”

“Don’t be stupid. They don’t play in the morning. Just reruns of games, and sports talk shows. I don’t want to hear a bunch of guys telling me their dumbass opinions.”

So even after sneaking a drink in the garage he remained in a foul mood. She often snapped back at him, but this time she managed to keep quiet. He complained about her nagging, and she knew she did nag. Who wouldn’t? But harping on his drinking, his reluctance to take care of the house, his complaining about trivial nuisances, didn’t help matters. Better to ignore him.

As she tried to think of an errand to send him on, his phone rang. “Hello?” He moved into the kitchen as he talked. “Hey, Rick, how’s it going?” She lost the sound of his voice until he came back into the living room. “Yeah, I’d like that. Hold on a sec.” He put his hand over the phone. “It’s Rick Cotterman. He has two extra tickets to the Smokies game tonight.” The Smokies being Knoxville’s minor league baseball team. “You want to go? Carol’s going, too. I need somebody to go with me, to use both tickets.”

Cotterman and Charlie worked together in maintenance at Oak Ridge before they retired. Charlie referred to him as one of the guys from his softball team, but to Laura he was one of Charlie’s drinking buddies. Yes, they played softball when they drank, but also drank when they watched football, drank when they fished, drank when they did anything.

Hiding her reluctance, she said, “Yeah, that would be nice. Let’s do that.”

“How about we go to dinner with them before the game? I should pay for that since he’s providing the tickets.”

He always liked to play the big spender, but in this case it made sense. “Sure. That’ll save me making dinner.”

“Hey, Rick, yeah. We’ll go. On one condition, you let us treat you to supper. We can meet at one of those restaurants near the stadium.”

After ringing off Charlie said, “Thanks, baby. This’ll be fun. It’s the first time we’ve been to the new stadium.” He wore that grin she’d found cute when they started dating fifteen years before, a smile that reminded her of a kid anticipating a new toy.

#

Her first husband had been an executive, the opposite of Charlie. She was still an undergraduate when Len completed his MBA and they married. When his first job took them to Chicago she intended to complete her degree there. Somehow she never enrolled at another university but kept busy being a supportive corporate wife. A new job brought them back to Knoxville, but by then she felt too old to resume school. They only engaged in social life to further his business interests. Married life became stale. Len’s announcement that he wanted a divorce came as a relief.

After they separated she got a job as an executive assistant to a contractor for one of the government labs at Oak Ridge. She went for drinks after work with co-workers, and to clubs with other women on weekends. Meeting new men required her to diet and exercise to keep trim. Even with that effort, though, a woman in her forties found it more and more difficult to connect with suitable men.

She surprised herself getting together with Charlie. Although they worked at the same facility, she never noticed him until a Christmas party at work. Country music began playing on the sound system and Charlie stood out in the middle of the floor and yelled, “Come on, everybody, let’s line dance!”

Charlie noticed her tapping her foot and nodding in time with the music. He motioned to her and yelled, “Come on, baby, let’s show ‘em how it’s done!” With Laura and Charlie leading the way, everybody in the room joined in. At the end of the party she and Charlie went to a club and danced some more. He kept her laughing all night. They began seeing each other after that.

The thought of dating a guy who worked with screwdrivers and wrenches instead of a computer bothered her at first. He earned a good salary, though, and his chill attitude contrasted with Len’s constant posing as an important person. Len would never have line danced, much less gone out on the floor to invite everybody else to join in.

Charlie made it clear he knew more about man things than Laura, and she gladly conceded his superiority in automobile repair and sports betting. Unlike Len, though, Charlie respected her three years of college and her white-collar job. By the time he asked her to marry him she had won his confidence in selecting clothes, and even in managing their finances.

And he always had that little kid quality. His dejection when she chided him for his petty errors and his excitement over minor enjoyments made her feel like she had the child she’d been unable to conceive with Len. In the early years with Charlie she found herself watching him as he slept, a baby content in his rest.

The cuteness wore thin. Little boys are cute, but they’re also selfish and mean and lazy.

He did seem to be trying lately, less beer (although continuing to cheat with the whiskey in the garage), less critical of her, more helpful around the house. Agreeing to go to the ball game seemed a fair reward, even though she hated going to sporting events.

#

Rick Cotterman was OK, loud and overly jovial like Charlie, but bearable. His wife Carol, on the other hand, always managed to say something cutting or awkward, making people uncomfortable.

Still, when they met outside Adam’s Ribs, the barbecue place next to the stadium, Laura and Carol hugged each other. Carol had been to the hairdresser and nail salon recently. Laura had no time to do that. Even so, Laura thought she looked classier than Carol, who wore jeans with faddish horizontal slits from mid-thigh to below the knee, and open-toed sandals revealing toenails painted green to match her fingernails. Cute if she were forty years younger. Rick wore Bermuda shorts, a University of Tennessee Big Orange t-shirt, and flip-flops. Charlie and Laura wore slacks and athletic shoes, he in a dark-blue collared polo, she in a pink blouse.

Laura ordered the grilled chicken salad, while the others all had rib platters. She allowed Charlie this violation of his diet. He only had two beers with the meal, which pleased her. Those two beers and the one beer he had with their chicken salad sandwiches at lunch constituted light drinking for him. Laura had a glass of white wine. Rick and Carol had cocktails before ordering beer with their meals.

The men dominated the conversation, as usual, talking sports and cars. As the meal wore on they retold stories from their days working together. Laura noticed Carol smirking as they listened to the thousandth telling of the time Charlie broke his ankle playing softball.

Carol said, “I’m glad you broke it. That’s what made Laura put her foot down about no more softball. And that’s how I managed to make Rick stop playing, too. In your fifties, for god’s sake.” She gave a laugh that caused nearby diners to look at their table.

Laura chuckled to be polite, but she regretted Carol’s bringing up this sore point.

“I could have played a few more years after my ankle healed. We had some good times playing ball, didn’t we, Rick?” Charlie sounded bitter.

“Yeah, we had some fun. Probably would have had a stroke or something if we’d kept it up, though.”

Carol said, “Charlie, do you remember how Patsy always used to come to the games when you were married and tried to get you to come straight home? She was such a bitch. I liked to hang out with you guys after the game and have a few beers.”

Why did Carol bring up Patsy, Charlie’s ex-wife? That always upset Charlie, although he never said so. And Laura had no desire to hear about her predecessor.

Charlie just said, “Yeah,” and they moved on to other topics.

Walking in the evening air after the stuffy restaurant felt good. They entered the stadium in a couple of minutes. Charlie and Rick walked in front, looking for their seats.

“Here it is,” Charlie said, sounding pleased with himself for beating Rick in the unspoken race to find their section.

Their seats were at the end of a row close to the field. When they reached the row Charlie stood back and motioned for Rick and Carol to enter first. Then he motioned for Laura to go in. When they first started dating she chastised him for not taking the outside seat, but even with her nagging he never guided her to sit inside like this. His sitting on the outside now made her feel good, until she remembered that these days he always expected to have to go to the bathroom during an event.

A family had the seats next to them, two adults with two preteen children sitting between them. Entering the row first, Carol took the seat immediately adjacent to the man of the family. The man said something to his wife in a low voice and the adults changed seats. Now the wife sat next to Carol and the man sat on the other side of the kids. Laura made a mental note to mention that to Charlie later. He’d laugh about the man wanting to avoid sitting next to a woman other than his wife.

Laura said, “Do you want to change seats with me, so you can be closer to Rick?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Charlie’s curt response irritated her. The two men would talk to each other throughout the game, talking across her. Maybe he resented her suggesting that he move, as if bossing him around. Or maybe he really did take an outside seat out of good manners, and now resented her failing to give him credit for it. Too late to say anything now, he’d know she was trying to placate him after he pouted.

They had timed their arrival well, the first pitch coming soon after they settled into their seats. The home team pitcher started poorly, allowing a base hit and a walk for the first two batters. Rick began heckling the umpire for alleged bad calls, with Carol joining in. Being a heckler embarrassed Laura, but she would join in once Charlie started it. This night, though, Charlie remained quiet. She glanced at him to see him staring straight ahead, his jaw clinched.

Why was he mad? Talking to him when he was in a state like that was risky. Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe Rick or Carol said something to upset him. The stress of trying to guess what bothered him worried her so much she decided to take the chance. She whispered into his ear, “Is everything all right?”

His expression softened into a slight smile as he looked at her and said, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Then he directed his gaze back to the field.

It must have been Rick or Carol. But he had been talking the usual banter with Rick right up until they reached their seats. She hadn’t paid much attention to the conversation, but no raised voices or abrupt pauses had caught her attention. Once they sat down conversation had stopped, which was unusual, but precluded any possibility of Rick or Carol offending Charlie.

At the end of the fifth inning Charlie turned to her and said, “How are you doing?”

The question startled her. No matter how tired or sick she felt, he never noticed. It took her a few seconds to respond. “Me? I’m doing fine.”

After the visitors’ next at bat he said, “Why don’t we go home?”

Normally she would be glad to leave the game early, but now she said, “Are you sure? The Smokies are only behind by one run. It’s a good game.”

“It’s all right. You look tired.” He leaned across her toward Rick. “Hey, Ricky. We’re going to head on out. Laura’s not feeling well.”

Rick said, “Really? Gosh, Laura, what’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I just need to go home and lie down.” The concerned expressions of Rick and Carol, and the fact that she lied, embarrassed her.

She and Charlie remained silent as they climbed the stadium steps and exited to the parking lot. Once in the car she said, “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you see who was sitting next to us?” His voice sounded loud, angry.

“Rick and Carol?”

“Next to them!”

“That family? They seemed all right. The kids chattered some, but I didn’t think they were that loud. I thought the little boy was cute with his baseball glove.”

“That was Gary and his family.”

“Which Gary? You mean your son Gary?”

“Yes! Didn’t you recognize him?”

“How could I? I’ve never seen him.”

“You see his damn picture in the paper every day.”

“I don’t read those ads. Besides, people look different in person. And I didn’t pay that much attention to him, I was watching the kids more.”

“Trust me, that was him.”

“I believe you. It’s crazy that they happened to sit next to us. Do you think Rick set that up on purpose?”

“I doubt it. The tickets are part of a package Rick’s son bought. I doubt Rick knew Gary had seats there, and I doubt Rick’s son knows who Gary is or who I am.”

She stayed quiet for a while, then said, “It’s a shame it spoiled the game for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He still sounded angry.

They both stayed silent for the remainder of the drive. Back home Charlie found a movie on TV. He drank a beer as she sat next to him in the living room. Then he had another beer, and another.

Finally he said, “I don’t know why she brought up Patsy.”

“Who?”

“Patsy. I don’t know why Carol brought up Patsy. Why did she want to bring up that bitch? She’s a bitch herself. I don’t want to relive fighting with her. It wasn’t just softball. We fought all the time. She was always trying to keep me from having fun. The best thing about the divorce was I could play softball in peace.”

“I’m sorry I made you quit after you broke your ankle.”

“No. You were right about that. Like Rick said, I’d probably have had a stroke if I’d kept it up. But that was different from Patsy, she just didn’t want me to have fun, even when I was still young enough to play.” He stood. “You want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, Charlie, I’m good.” She started to caution him against another beer, but after his speech about Patsy keeping him from having fun she kept quiet.

#

The next morning Charlie mowed the lawn without her reminding him. Midafternoon after he finished mowing they ate lunch, soup and sandwiches. He only had one beer with the meal.

They were due to go grocery shopping. She always insisted he go to the store with her, ostensibly to help her carry the groceries. In fact she wanted him to get out of the house and do something other than pace and drink.

He wisecracked and laughed as drove them to Walmart, which relieved her after last night. Usually he irritated her at the store, being drawn to new products he would like to try while she wanted to stick to her list. On this day, though, his fascination with baked potato chips and exotic coffee flavors cheered her up.

But after half an hour his good mood tapered off. He stopped exploring new products and just trailed behind her asking, “How much longer you going to be?” She guessed he wanted a drink.

Usually he flirted with whichever woman supervised the self-checkout area. Today when the woman, who recognized him from previous visits, said hello to him with a big smile he maintained a dour expression and just grunted “Hi.”

On the road returning from Walmart, after a few moments of silence, he said, “I never told you, but I went to see him once.”

“Who?”

“Gary.” He barked it, as if she should have known who “him” was. “Right after I retired.”

She tried to think of how to respond, and finally settled on, “What happened?”

“He was at work. I didn’t think about that, me just being retired, I’d forgotten working people aren’t home during the day. That bitch Kristy.”

“His wife?”

“Yes, his wife, who the hell else would I be talking about?”

“Don’t talk to me like that. How would I know who you’re talking about?”

“I was talking about Gary, who else would I be talking about but his wife? What are you so touchy about?”

“You’re the one that’s touchy. What’d this Kristy do to you?” Their voices had elevated, his face a brighter red than usual. He’d made her mad, but she had to calm him down, calm herself down. The day started so well, and now he resumed the petulance from the night before.

“She was nervous as a cat, one kid hanging on her, the other one a baby I guess, I didn’t see it. Didn’t want to let me in, but I pushed my way in. She said I should leave Gary alone. I said tell him I came by, and she didn’t say she would, just said for me to leave. She got her back up after a while, threatened to call the police.”

“Had you been drinking?” She regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth.

“What the hell are you talking about? What’s that got to do with anything? I reached out, I tried to meet him halfway. And that bitch threatened to call the law.”

“I know, you’re right, she had no right to say that.” They arrived home and pulled into the garage.

“Goddamn right she had no right. My son, my grandkids. I should have called the law on her. That little shit, helping his mother get a lawyer to sue me for divorce. I should have kicked his ass back then.”

He’d shifted now back to familiar ground, reliving the divorce from Patsy, Gary in his early twenties siding with his mother. Laura could see why, Charlie a neglectful father caught cheating on Patsy numerous times, running her out of the house during one of his drunken rages.

She disapproved of Kristy’s action, for the hurt it gave to Charlie. Still, Charlie must have been drunk, showing up at Kristy’s home, she alone with her small children, he intimidating and disgusting.

As they carried the groceries into the house she tried to end this current round of squabbling. “Well, he had a chance to mend fences last night and didn’t. It’s all on him.”

“What are you talking about? Of course it’s on him. It’s always on him. Changing seats with that bitch, to get away from me. Hell, I didn’t want to sit close to them, I sat as far away from him as I could. Little chicken shit. Just like his mother.”

“I know, Charlie. Don’t let him get you down. Forget about him. It’s his loss.”

“Why are you taking up for him?”

“I’m not taking up for him. What’s the matter with you? I’m siding with you! I’m on your side, why are you lashing out at me?” She heard herself sounding angry.

“You are a pain in my ass, you know that? You’re as bad as she was. Always bitchin’ at me. Sure, I take a drink sometimes, so what? Everybody does it, and you try to make out I’m a drunk. What a bitch.”

“If you don’t like it, feel free to leave. I welcomed you into my home, but if you hate me so much, leave.” She had always avoided that subject, the fact that she owned the house, which she got through her divorce from Len. The house never mattered to her, but after his hurtful words she wanted to hurt him back. Why was he doing this, pretending she had taken Gary’s side against him? She’d been supportive, but he wanted to hear otherwise.

With the perishables in the refrigerator and freezer already, she left the remaining grocery bags on the kitchen table. Going into the bedroom, she locked the door behind her. She expected him to come after her, to bang on the door, maybe even knock the door open. Only silence. She lay on the bed, nauseous, waiting.

When she woke up her phone showed that she’d slept for two hours. Rising quietly, she went to the door and opened it a crack. He lay on his back on the sofa, snoring, his arm across his eyes. Moving into the living room, she looked at the empty fifth of whiskey on the floor beside him, along with half a dozen empty beer cans.

His cell phone also lay on the floor beside him and she picked it up. Back in the bedroom she checked his call history. The most recent call, to a number unidentified to a name, had been made less than two hours before.

She called the number. A woman answered. “Hey, Charlie baby, are you coming over or not? Is she still in the bedroom?”

Laura touched the red phone icon to end the call and put the phone back on the floor. He’s just upset about Gary she thought. She went to the kitchen to start supper.

Tom Ray devotes his time to writing adult fiction. His stories have been published in numerous journals and in the print anthology Unbroken Circle: Stories of Cultural Diversity in the South. He is a native of Knoxville, Tennessee, and a graduate of the University of Tennessee. After two years of active duty in the U. S. Army, including a tour in Vietnam, he entered U. S. government service as a civilian. He retired after working thirty-five years in the Washington, D.C., area, and currently lives in Knoxville.