Homecoming (14 page)

The katydids hadn’t started chirping yet, but the sun was already behind the hills to the west, and the whole place smelled of summer: rich, fragrant soil mounded around vegetables just starting to poke their heads out, fresh-mown lawns, a hint of charcoal from someone’s dinner, and a pungent profusion of marigolds that ringed the patio.

Janet’s throw sailed far over the basket and Jill jogged to fetch it. She bent her knees and let it fly, hitting the basket and making the metal chains sing.

“She’s a natural,” Mike said. “You always had a good eye, Jill. Too bad girls didn’t play ball when you were a kid.”

Lizzie was walking towards them when Mike said that, and she turned and jogged back into the house. When she returned, a few minutes later, she held a frame in her hand. “Speaking of the world’s greatest women baseball players,” she announced, then handed the frame to Jill.

“Oh, that’s cute,” Jill said, grinning.

Janet came over to stand by her and take a look at the photo. “She was a plucky little thing, wasn’t she?”

“I didn’t know she’d played,” Jill said, looking fondly at the photo of Lizzie and a dozen boys, gold shirts and white pants hanging off their skinny bodies, big, gold caps atop their heads, with stylized “SH” lettering gracing the fronts.

“You don’t remember that? Oh, she was so proud of herself.”

“I was at the U by then,” Jill said, checking the date on the photo. “I went up early that summer to get a math class out of the way.”

Janet smiled at her, probably recalling that Jill had taken every opportunity to go to Burlington early and stay late. Once she’d gotten away from home, she rarely returned. “We have at least one movie of our little star playing a game. What position did you play, honey?”

“Second base. I didn’t have a strong arm, but I was accurate.” She jumped into the air and landed with her feet spread well apart. “And I could avoid someone trying to take me out.”

“I’d love to get up to Boston to see a game this year,” Mike said wistfully. “Mark promises he’ll go every year, but he’s always got something going on.”

“I’ll take you, Dad,” Lizzie said. “Any time.”

A sour look settled on his face. “It pisses me off that I can’t just go where I want, when I want.”

“You can,” Janet said, putting her arm around him. “You just need someone to tag along.” Turning to Lizzie, she said, “Can you try to get tickets, honey? Maybe Jill would like to come along. You’re still a fan, aren’t you?”

“Sure. Always.”

“You two have schedules you have to work around. Just tell us when we’re going, and we’ll be ready.”

“Great,” Jill said, already working out the details in her head. They’d have to stay overnight…

“Are you ready to head back, or do you want to stay over?” Lizzie asked, interrupting her train of thought.

“I guess I’m ready. But I don’t want to rush you. It’s fine with me if we leave at ten.”

“I worry about you driving so late,” Janet said. She put her hands on each woman’s back and led them toward the house. “Mike,” she called out, “Pick some strawberries for the girls. You know how Lizzie loves them.”

“Some lettuce wouldn’t hurt if you’ve got any extra,” Lizzie said. “Just a few leaves. I usually make a sandwich for dinner and I hate to have to buy a whole head.”

“My thrifty girl,” Janet said fondly, wrapping an arm around Lizzie’s waist.

They went inside, where Lizzie packed up her computer and put her flip-flops back on. Then Mike came in and they discussed the proper way to transport fairly ripe strawberries. It was eight o’clock before they’d said their goodbyes and were in the car.

“If I could capture a day and replay it when I needed a boost”—Jill turned to smile at Lizzie—“this would be the day.”

Lizzie moved her seat back and stretched out. “I can’t argue with you on that. Although it would have been nice to snare some homegrown tomatoes. They’re never ready before August, though, when summer’s almost over.”

“No such talk! It’s just beginning, and I’m going to enjoy every damned minute.”

***

On the following Saturday morning, Jill woke to a stripe of warm sun painting her body. As soon as her eyes opened, a little gray face hovered above her, then a pink tongue swiped across her lid. “I can open them myself, Goliath.” She giggled. “Let’s go have some breakfast, boys,” she said as she swung around and set her feet on the floor. “Once I start getting ready for the party, you’ll be so freaked out you won’t eat a thing.”

The boys usually got dry food, but when Jill knew they’d be hiding all day she gave them a treat. As she opened the can of something disgusting, they weaved around her legs so enthusiastically she had to laugh. “I’m really going to give this to you. Promise. I swear I won’t forget in the middle of dishing it out.”

Once they were happily gorging themselves, Jill made coffee, then had a small serving of granola. She knew she’d eat way too much throughout the day, so it made sense to start off slow. As soon as she was finished, she started to cook, confident almost everyone would bring desserts. She loved baked beans, so she put together a big batch and set them in the oven to bake. The boys had been interested, with David dancing around on the counter, despite her removing him every single time she caught him. But when someone knocked heavily on the back door, both cats hit the ground and took off—the last she’d see of them until the final guest left.

After directing the delivery guys to where she wanted the kegs set up, she went back inside and made burgers. It was cheaper and easier to buy pre-made ones, but if she was going to cook, she was going to do it right. And that meant grinding her own beef and forming it into patties. The whole process took a while, but she still had time to make a heaping bowl of cole slaw before noon—the announced starting time.

As always, Karen and Becky were the first to arrive. They knew her well enough to know she liked home-cooked food, but since neither of them had any culinary talent, they brought two nice bottles of wine for her to drink at a future date. “I know you’d prefer a quiche or something,” Becky said, “but at least you won’t have to throw this out when no one eats it.”

“I appreciate your concern for the health and well being of my guests,” she said, kissing them both. “Did you bring some chairs?”

“Already in the backyard,” Karen said. “Want help?”

“Sure. I bought a few games for kids, since I know we’ll have a bunch of them. You can help me set them up.”

When they walked outside, Carly and Samantha were figuratively dragging Presley and Trent into the yard. Trent was going to be a senior and Presley a sophomore in high school, and had reached the age where going to a party with their moms was just short of torture.

“Just the people I wanted to see,” Jill said, amping up her enthusiasm. She’d known the boys since they were small, and had a good relationship with them. She was sure they would have rather been doing just about anything else. “Will you guys check out the games I bought and set them up?” The boys glared at each other for a few seconds, then Trent nodded and moved over to the table where Jill had placed the stuff. Since Trent had gone, that let Presley follow along and not look stupid. As they walked away, Carly said quietly, “Sometimes I wish we’d stopped at cats.”

Samantha put her arm around her. “She’s having a bad day,” she explained to the others. “Presley told her he’d skip college if he had to go to the U.”

“He might,” Carly whispered. “He was put on this earth to torture me.”

“Oh, he’s your baby,” Jill insisted in the voice she always used around small kids. “Remember how happy you were when he would tell everyone his mommy was the smartest person around because she was a pofesso?”

“I got stupid when he turned thirteen,” she grumbled. “I can’t wait for him to grow up and find a woman who’ll put up with him.”

“Default heterosexuality?” Jill teased. “Are you sure a professor in the Gender, Sexuality and Women’s Studies division should assume her kid’s straight?”

“I’ve seen his browsing history,” she said, looking ill. “If he’s not straight, he really doesn’t know how to use the internet.”

Jill clapped her on the back. “Is it too early to have a beer? I’d like to forget that last comment really quickly.”

***

By two, over fifty people were in the backyard, standing in cliques that mirrored their interests. Jill noted that people with kids always tended to talk to others in the same situation, no matter their employment. She had the barbecue going, and was just about to go inside to get the food when Lizzie pushed open the gate to enter. She looked around, then smiled when her eyes met Jill’s. “Hey,” she said, walking over for a quick hug. “I heard there’s a good party going on around here.”

“You’re just in time.” She noted Lizzie’s tight jeans and green T-shirt with the album cover for a band from the seventies emblazoned on the front. “No shorts? We’re finally having a hot day.”

“Nah. I don’t think I own any. Jeans work year-round.” She looked over the crowd. “Big group. I thought you’d have nothing but lesbians.”

“Not a requirement,” Jill said. “Most of my friends are from the U, and, despite what some people think, lesbians haven’t taken over the entire faculty and administration.”

“Ooo,” she said, quietly. “Scott’s here. I should have asked if he was coming.”

Jill winced. “I forgot to tell you.” She gripped her arm. “Are you able to stay?”

Lizzie’s head cocked. “We spent three evenings together. No big deal. For me, at least. Did he bring someone?”

“Uh-huh.” Jill pointed at the comely young woman who was busy laughing at his jokes. “The blonde with the big…eyes.”

“Yeah,” Lizzie agreed. “Those are huge eyes. 34-Cs at least.” She let out a soft laugh. “I’m glad he got right back in the saddle.” She turned and looked expectantly at Jill. “How can I help?”

“I think I’ve got everything under control. Why’d you come alone? No one in town this weekend?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “I like to go to parties alone unless we all know the people. Besides, I think I told you my friend base is kinda low right now. I’ve got work friends, but my real buds are in Boston.”

“You’ll get more,” Jill predicted. “You’re awfully easy to like.”

“I’ll go mingle. Maybe my new best friend is in your backyard at this very minute.”

Jill watched her head over to a group of people from admin. One thing was clear. You didn’t have to coddle Lizzie Davis at a party.

An hour later, Jill sat at a table with Jason and Ben, Carly and Samantha, and Skip and Alice. Trent, Presley, and Skip and Alice’s fourteen-year-old, Aaron, were all trying to impress Lizzie at the bean-bag toss game. Younger kids were impatiently waiting their turns, with Lizzie holding Olive’s hand. The little three-year-old, usually very shy around strangers, looked up at her with an adoring smile.

“If your friend wants to babysit,” Jason said, “she’s hired. Olive never takes to people that easily.”

“I’m not sure she babysits,” Jill said, “but she housesits. I can attest she’s great with cats.”

“She wouldn’t like ours,” Ben said. “No one likes Carmen.”

“Don’t be so sure. She’s one of the few people my two have ever revealed themselves to.”

“You don’t have cats,” Skip insisted, his usual joke.

“I most certainly do, and Lizzie’s my proof. Just ask her.”

“Later,” Skip said. “She’s keeping Aaron entertained, and one thing I’ve learned is to never interrupt a kid who’s doing something legal that isn’t bad for him.”

***

Jill, Ben, and Gerri were in the kitchen, parcelling out the uneaten food for people to take home. No matter how many people came to a party, the three of them ended up on kitchen detail. Why that was, Jill would never know.

Lizzie poked her head into the kitchen, and Jill saw that she was carrying Santiago, one of the youngest of the whole crowd. One of his dads was right behind her, saying, “Can we put him down in the den?”

“Sure. Let me get a blanket.”

“I can handle this,” Lizzie said to Tony. “You can go keep an eye on Xavier.”

“Twins,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Why did we think twins were a good idea? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll sit down and have a beer.”

“Great.” He squeezed her shoulder, kissed Santiago on the head and took off.

Jill followed Lizzie to the den, grabbed a cotton throw and stretched it out on the floor. “Did I hire you to babysit today?” she asked, smirking. “Every time I look up, you’re charming little boys or big boys.”

“Don’t forget little girls,” she said, as she gently lay the baby onto his back. “In twenty years, Olive’s going to be mine.”

“She can be yours right now. Her dads want to hire you.”

She made a face. “I appreciate that, but I’m more into housesitting. My work schedule’s too unpredictable to be able to plan ahead, and a house doesn’t care if I’m only there a few hours a day.” Her expression morphed into a silly smile. “You can’t do that with a baby. People get all pissy about it.”

“Want me to watch him? You really don’t need to stay inside.”

“No, I’m cool. Let me go get a beer. Want one?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Lizzie was only gone a minute or two, returning with two beers, both a little fuzzy. “I didn’t want to take the time to check it out, but I think your keg’s warm.”

“No big deal,” Jill said, accepting the cup. “That’s one way to get people to pack up and leave.” She took a sip. “You’re right. It could be a little colder.”

“You can’t help but learn a few tips when you live with a master brewer.” She whipped off her T-shirt, with Jill purposefully averting her eyes when she caught sight of the lacy white camisole she wore.

“Aren’t you hot?” Lizzie asked. “I understand why you don’t have air conditioning, but it’s really toasty.”

“I have a unit in my bedroom.” It wasn’t possible to avoid looking at Lizzie in the small room. Going braless under a nearly transparent camisole must have meant she didn’t mind if people saw her nipples.

Lizzie sank to the ground, plopping down right next to the adorable baby. He seemed to sense her presence, and stuck his chubby hand out to rest on her leg.