Windmill Windup (2 page)

“Aren’t I always?”

“No, you aren’t, and you know it,” her mom said, seriously worried now. “Don’t blow this for me, Kel, okay? I like this guy.”

Now it was Kelly’s turn to frown. “Okay,” she grumbled. “I’ll be nice.”

She hated Ken already. Who did this guy think he was, sweeping her mom off her feet like this?

Mrs. Conroy opened the door and said, “Hi!” in a breathy, nervous, too-loud voice. Ken smiled back. He was tall — well over
six feet — and had long, dark hair and brown eyes. Kelly had to admit he was good-looking, but what she couldn’t stand was
the way he was staring at her mom.

“Hi, yourself!” he said back, giving Kelly’s mom a big smile.

“Um, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Kelly,” she said, stepping back so that Ken could come inside.

“Hi,” Kelly muttered, holding her hand up in a lackluster wave.

“Hello, Kelly!” Ken said, beaming. He strode over to her, holding his hand out for her to shake. She held hers up limply and
let him shake it, but she couldn’t make herself look in his eyes.

Ken seemed a little taken aback by her cool reception. “Your mom has told me so many nice things about you,” he offered.

“Uh-huh,” Kelly said noncommittally.

Ken cleared his throat. “Well!” he said, clapping
his hands together and turning back to her mom. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, let’s!” her mom said, keeping up the enthusiasm as best she could. “I’ll just get my bag….” She ran into the kitchen
and came back a second later with her handbag. “Kelly, I’ll be back by ten or so. You be good, okay, sweetie?” She gave Kelly
a quick peck on the cheek, which Kelly did not return. “Bye now.”

“Bye, Kelly! Nice meeting you!” Ken said with a wave. Slipping his arm through Mrs. Conroy’s, he led her out the door and
down the steps to his car, a boxy-looking sedan.

Kelly smirked. Her dad would never be caught dead in a car like that. He liked Corvettes and Mustangs and cool cars like that.
Her mom always said he refused to grow up, but that was what Kelly liked best about him.

Her mom turned at the car door. “Oh, I almost forgot!” she called to Kelly. “There’s a letter for you on the kitchen table!”

“Okay. Bye,” Kelly said, closing the door and locking it. She sighed softly as the car drove off. She had the whole evening
ahead of her, and nothing to do but watch TV or read. Alone.

She wandered slowly into the kitchen. Not that she was hungry — not after all that pizza — but she was curious about the letter.
She rarely got mail, and she wondered if one of her friends had sent her a party invitation.

The letter was from the town’s parks and recreation department. Oh, good. Her team assignment. Kelly tore the envelope open,
just to see when the first Devil Rays’ practice was.

She stopped breathing. She could hear her heart hammering inside her as she read the awful words. “KELLY CONROY: DIAMONDBACKS.”

Oh, no! They’d put her on the wrong team!

T
he message of doom still clutched in her hand, Kelly ran for the door. She threw it open, yelling, “Mom! Wait!”

But it was too late. The car had already turned the corner and was accelerating onto Main Street. Kelly had a loud voice,
but not
that
loud. Collapsing onto the concrete stoop, she put her head in her hands and moaned, “
Now
what am I going to do?”

She sat there for a long time — it seemed like hours to Kelly, but it was probably only five minutes or so — and finally,
still utterly at a loss, she dragged herself to her feet and went back into the house.

How was it possible? Were they out to ruin her life, or what? Didn’t they understand how important it was for a girl to stay
with her teammates, especially when they were about to be champions? Not
knowing what else to do, she went to the phone and dialed Sue Jeffers’s number.

“Are you kidding me?” was Sue’s stunned reaction. “You can’t be on another team! We need you!”

“I know!” Kelly said, distraught. She waved the paper, which she still hadn’t put down, as if Sue could see it. “But it says
right here that I’m on the Diamondbacks.”

“Omigosh — what if
everybody
got put onto a different team?” Sue gasped in horror. “I’ll call you right back. I’ve gotta check.” She hung up before Kelly
could stop her.

“This is a nightmare,” Kelly groaned, leaning her head against the refrigerator. Just for something to do, she pulled open
the fridge and looked inside. The plate of meat loaf and mashed potatoes with creamed spinach stared at her. She usually liked
her mom’s cooking, but looking at the plate of food suddenly made her feel sick to her stomach. Just when she thought she
was going to hurl, the phone rang and Kelly forgot all about her digestive troubles.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Sue said hurriedly. “Okay, I called Karen, Nina, Beth, and Laurie — they’re all still on the
team, and so am I. They’re gonna check with everybody else, just to make sure.”

“Great,” Kelly said miserably. “So I’m the only one who’s off the team?”

“It’s got to be a mistake,” Sue assured her. “Did you tell your mom?”

“I didn’t get a chance,” Kelly explained. “She’s out with this new dorky guy she’s seeing. Ugh.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Sue commiserated. “My mom has the worst taste in guys. You’d think she’d let go of it by now.
I mean, she’s forty years old, for goodness’ sake. But no, every once in a while she forgets and starts dating some new loser.
It’s always the same thing. The last guy was this airline pilot? Turned out he had a girlfriend in each of six different cities.
Can you believe it?”

Kelly couldn’t help laughing. Sue was such a hoot.

“Anyway, don’t worry, they’ll break up before you know it,” Sue assured her. “Nobody wants to go out with a lady who’s got
a kid.”

“You should have seen the phony smile he gave me,” Kelly told her.

“I can just picture it,” Sue said. “Anyhow, listen, about the team — it’s some stupid mistake, I’m sure of it. I’ll bet if
you just call the commissioner and
explain, he’ll put you back on the team. Just tell him that —”

“Yeah, right,” Kelly interrupted her. “Have you forgotten who the commissioner is?”

“Huh?”

“He’s Lacey Jenkins’s dad.”

“Oh. Oops…”

Lacey, as Sue well knew, was Kelly’s worst enemy.

“You’ve got to forgive and forget your feud with her,” Sue advised sagely. “After all, it wasn’t your fault that Billy O’Donnell
liked you better than her.”

“Yeah, tell that to Lacey,” Kelly said, smirking.

“Besides, it’s ancient history! That was back in sixth grade, for goodness’ sake!”

Kelly sighed impatiently. “I can forgive all I want,” she said. “But Lacey is not going to let her dad do me any favors. I’m
telling you, Susie. It’s a no-go.”

“Well, you can at least try,” Sue insisted. “What have you got to lose?”

“Okay, okay,” Kelly said, giving in reluctantly. “I’ll try talking with her tomorrow at school — even though she hasn’t said
a kind word to me in a year and a half.”

“That’s the girl,” Sue said encouragingly. “You’ll be surprised what a little friendliness can accomplish.”

“You’re right,” Kelly shot back. “I
will
be surprised.”

“Hey,” Sue said, “you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“Hmm …where have I heard that before?” Kelly said, grinning in spite of herself.

She felt much better after she hung up with Sue, but soon the sense of dread returned. She found herself, as she often did
in her weakest, lowest moments, punching in her dad’s number on the memory dial.

The phone rang …and rang …and rang. Not that Kelly was surprised. Her dad was almost never home when she called him. And although
she knew he had an answering machine — he was always leaving funny messages on it that cracked her up — as often as not, he
forgot to turn the machine on.

She hung up, sighing deeply. It was no use. She was just going to have to live through the rest of this night with the great
lump of worry in her stomach. Kelly felt worse than she had in years.

Oh well
, she thought, shuffling into the living room and flipping on the TV,
maybe tomorrow will be better. At least it can’t be worse
.

But it
was
worse. Much worse. Kelly tracked down Lacey Jenkins in the cafeteria during lunch period. Lacey was at her usual table, with
all the other popular, snobby kids Kelly hated. Fair was fair — they didn’t like her much, either. Kelly wasn’t surprised
they held a low opinion of her after listening to Lacey trash her day after day. They sneered at her now as she approached
with her heart in her throat.

“Um, hi, Lacey,” Kelly said in a low voice.

Lacey looked at her, stunned, blinking rapidly. “Kelly Conroy?” she said, pronouncing the name like it was some deadly disease
or some disgusting, slimy thing. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um…” Kelly felt her throat tightening. Suddenly, her knees were all rubbery, and she wanted to turn tail and run — or,
at least, sink into the floor. “I just wanted to say hi,” she mumbled lamely.

Lacey snorted. “Yeah, right,” she said, sharing a skeptical laugh with her friends. “Just a friendly gesture, right?”

Kelly tried to smile, but her lips quivered, and she knew it must have looked more like a grimace, so she gave up.

“Just what is it you want?” Lacey challenged her. “That’s the only reason you’d ever come over to me
and say hi. So you might as well come out and ask me, so I can say no and get it over with.”

“Um, no, you’re wrong,” Kelly lied. She was trapped, and she knew it — beaten before she’d even got started. “I just thought,
let bygones be bygones, and like that….”

“Well, aren’t you little Mother Teresa?” Lacey quipped, sending her friends into sniggering fits. “Saint Kelly Conroy. Who
do you think you are, anyway?” She turned her back to Kelly, and everyone at the table followed suit.

There was nothing for Kelly to do but back away and get out of there, so that’s what she did. If she’d had a tail at that
moment, it would have been between her legs as she skulked away.

Kelly kept walking until she was clear out of the cafeteria. She didn’t want to talk to anybody while she was this shaky.
She was afraid if she did, she’d burst into tears and embarrass herself. She made her way into the empty auditorium, where
she sat down in the back row and composed herself, waiting for her next class, study hall.

Karen Haynes came in after a few minutes and saw her sitting there. “Kel!” she cried. Coming right over and sitting down next
to Kelly, she gave her a
big, tight hug. Kelly, as she was afraid she would, burst into bitter sobs.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Karen assured her, rocking Kelly in her arms. “It’s obviously just a simple mistake. A clerical error,
like they say. I’m sure if you have your mom call the commissioner, he’ll change you back. I mean, friendship is what softball
league is supposed to be all about, right? Why would any grown-up want to break a kid’s heart by separating her from her best
friends? That would be so demented!”

Kelly wiped her eyes and gave Karen a broken, trembling smile before hugging her again, even tighter this time. Maybe Karen
was right, she thought, daring to nurture some fragile hope. Lacey’s father couldn’t possibly be as mean as his daughter was.
Maybe he didn’t even know about the feud between her and Kelly.

Still, Kelly wasn’t going to let her hopes get raised too high. In her experience, grown-ups didn’t understand much about
what kids wanted and why. You’d think they’d never been kids themselves.

K
elly got home from school before three-thirty, so she had to wait two whole hours before her mom got home. It was the slowest
two hours in world history. She got all her homework done, although most of it was probably wrong, considering how hard it
was to concentrate. The whole time, the TV blared music videos in the background. It distracted her, but it also kept her
mind off her misery, so she made no move to turn it off.

By five o’clock, Kelly was going stir crazy. She knew her mom didn’t like her to fill up on snacks right before dinner, but
she couldn’t help herself. She dove into the chips and salsa, and when they were gone, she made herself a plate of fruit,
cheese, and crackers. At five-twenty, she started cleaning it all up so her mom wouldn’t notice. Tonight, when Kelly said
she wasn’t hungry and didn’t want any
mashed potatoes or broccoli, she’d tell her mom it was because she was upset over the softball team.
Well, it’s true, isn’t it
? she thought.

Her mom didn’t pull into the driveway until nearly six, and by that time Kelly was beside herself. “Hi, Mom!” she yelled,
rushing out the door to give her a big hug.

“Well! Isn’t this a nice greeting?” Her mom looked beautiful, Kelly noticed. Deep happiness seemed to well up out of her,
beaming out of her sparkling blue eyes.

“I love you, Mom,” Kelly said, trying not to show how upset she was.