The Brat and the Brainiac (11 page)

I kind of dragged my way over there, but once I was in the inner circle of the cabinets and countertop, I felt better.

“It’s strange to be on this side of things,” I tell him with a smile.

“Grab a knife. And a cutting board. Don’t cut on that countertop, for God’s sake. Your uncle will have all our heads. Now, you break the cloves out of the head and lay them on your board. Yes, good. Turn your knife sideways like this and give them each a good whack. Now you can peel them and finish chopping them. Good girl.”

“I’m learning so many new things the past few days,” I say. “Things I never dreamed I’d need to know.”

“Want another glass of wine, Miranda?” asks Kevin.

“No. I have to work tomorrow, so I’d better not get too bombed. Besides, I have to work on a paper.”

I drop the knife with a clatter.

“Oh, my God. I just remembered. All my notes are at Jason’s house. Plus, what I was planning to wear to work tomorrow. What am I going to do?”

“Do you have the key?” asks Ignatius.

“Yes, he made me one when he thought I was going to be living there.”

“Then call him up and ask him if you can get in and get your stuff.”

“He won’t take any of my calls.”

“Then call your uncle and have him ask. But first, let’s eat.”

So I take Ignatius’s advice and we chow down on his delicious Shrimp Scampi. I call Uncle Tommy and he says he’s down at the bar, but he’ll call Jason for me and ask for permission. Forty-five minutes later, just as we’re done cleaning up, my phone rings. I pick it up without even checking the number.

“Yeah?”

“Miranda? This is Jason. Go ahead and get your stuff, and when you’re all done, just put the key on the kitchen counter and lock up.”

“Okay. Bye.”

The fact that he wants me to leave the key is discouraging, but I put it to the back of my mind. We decide that, since I went ahead and had another glass of wine with dinner, Ignatius ought to take me. We all three pile into his red car and head for Jason’s.

“Wait until you see this courtyard,” I tell them. “It’s so pretty.”

When we get there, they admire the courtyard like I hoped they would, with its oak tree in the middle and the azaleas and Japanese elms bordering the concrete walkways.

“Very pretty, very nice,” Ignatius agrees, and we all go inside. The minute I walk through the door, I start crying.

“What’s wrong now?”

“His condo smells just like him.”

“Well? That’s natural, if he lives here.”

“I know, but I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Let’s just get your stuff.”

The light over the stove is on, and I go in the kitchen and grab a bag from underneath the sink. I take it into the bedroom to clear out all my junk, including the makeup and blow dryer Jason bought me, and then I take my two work outfits off the hangers and fold them neatly. Last of all, I find my notebooks and hand them to Kevin.

“Can you carry these? I’ll carry the bag and Ignatius, you get my clothes.”

We all grab my stuff and carry it into the living room, but once we’re i
n
there, I stop. The doorknob’s rattling, like somebody’s trying to get in. We all three look at each other, and Ignatius signs for us to stay quiet. He sets my clothes down on the couch and tiptoes over to the door to stand behind it. No sooner does he get into position than the door opens, and some scuzzy-looking white guy comes in, the lock-picking tools still in his hand.

Ignatius gets the drop on him, grabbing him from behind and knocking the burglar tools out of his hand. Once he’s disarmed, Ignatius wrenches the guy’s arms behind his back and tells me to call 911.

When the guy hears that, he tries to fight back and escape, but Kevin has dropped my notebooks by then and joined in the fray. Within a minute or two, they have one beat-up burglar on their hands. I run to Jason’s room and get a couple of his ties to tie the guy up with, and then I call 911. We hold the crook like that until the police arrive.

“Call Jason and tell him what’s happened here tonight,” says Ignatius
.
“Ask him if he wants us to have a deadbolt put in.”

“What’s a deadbolt?” I ask.

“It’s a more secure type of lock. Just call him and ask.”

Jason’s shocked to hear that someone has tried to rob his condo, and he agrees with Ignatius that he needs a deadbolt. He laughs when I tell him how we captured the criminal and had him carted off by the police, and it gives me heart.

“I didn’t even get scared,” I tell him. “I just stayed calm and ran to find something to tie him up with. Oh, I owe you two or three ties. It’s all I could find.”

“No problem.”

“The only thing is, now I’m not going to be able to lock the key inside, so what should I do with the new keys? Overnight them to you?”

“No. Why don’t you just hang onto them for me? I’ll come get them when we get back to town.”

“All right. Hey, Jase?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still mad at me? Like, does this make up for how bratty I was at all?”

“Not much,” he says in a grim voice. “I’m still very angry about the way you behaved.”

“Couldn’t I just, like, get punished and let this all be over with?”

“It’s not that simple, Miranda.”

“Then I don’t know what to do.”

He sighs like he’s had enough of me and says, “Just hang onto the keys for me until I get back.”

“Okay, but Jase? Would it be better if I just left the keys with Ignatius so you wouldn’t have to look at me at all? Just tell me how much your tie
s
usually cost and I’ll leave you a check.”

“I don’t know. Twenty-five dollars apiece?”

“So, you don’t want to see me, is that correct?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know yet.”

With that, he hangs up the phone, like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. My heart freezes over and I feel like throwing up all that lovely Shrimp Scampi Ignatius made for us.

“What did he say?” Ignatius asks me.

“He said he doesn’t know if he can see me. But I’m still glad we caught the burglar, even if he doesn’t like me anymore.”

Ignatius grabs me and drags me into his embrace, and I’m just about to start crying on his shoulder when there’s a knock at the door. Kevin opens it, and there’s a guy standing there with a toolbox.

“The guy’s here to fix the lock,” he tells us, and Ignatius lets go of me and goes to attend to the lock fixing. When the guy’s finished and paid (with Uncle Tommy’s credit card,) Ignatius turns to me and asks me if I’m still tired.

“Not too much.”

“Good,” he says. “Let’s go to the Indian Casino.”

“Let me call Uncle Tommy and ask him if I can get some money.”

Since it’s a Saturday night, the casino’s pretty crowded, but I do manage to find a place at the bar where I can sit and play the poker machine. I get carded, of course, but then the guy next to me, an older guy who looks to be in his late thirties, starts buying me drinks. Why I always attract the crustors is beyond me. I hardly ever get asked out by a guy my own age. He asks me where I live and what I do and I tell him I’m still in college.

“Really? What are you taking?”

“Just General Ed,” I tell him, mostly because I don’t want to deal with a long explanation. “What about you? What do you do? You’re not i
n
professional sports or anything, are you?”

“No, I’m a computer programmer,” he tells me. “Why do you ask?”

“Because my last boyfriend works for the Quails, and they’re on the road all season.”

Just then, Ignatius comes over to check on me. After that, the guy, whose name I didn’t even catch, stops asking me such prying questions. But he also stops buying me drinks, so I get up and wander off to the slot machines by myself.

There are still a lot of the poker-type machines and the old-school slots, but they also have a lot of fun, animated ones. I sit down at one I’ve never played before and stick a couple of twenties in the money slot. I push the button that spins the reels, and all of a sudden, lights and bells go off.

After I hang up with Miranda, I put my head down on the little desk by the phone. I just want to cry, but I can’t be seen to be weak, so I hold it in like my dad would tell me to do.

I don’t know if I made a mistake or not. I don’t know if I’m being too harsh with Miranda. She’s a very sweet girl when she’s not acting all bratty, and I think about her offer to let me punish her.

I can’t make up my mind what’s the right thing to do. I thought after I dumped her, I’d go through a couple of days of torture and then get over it, but it’s been two days already, and it’s felt like two months. I decide to seek out Tommy and see if he’ll go somewhere with me for a quiet drink, away from the rest of the team. We’re in Tampa Bay, so there are plenty of bars.

“Yeah,” he tells me. “Let’s do it.”

We choose the bar of another hotel down the block. It’s a quieter place than the one we’re staying in, with lots of elderly people. In fact, our announcers are there, hanging out with a ballplayer from the past, who’s long since retired. We say hi, and then we chose a table halfway across the room from them.

“So, what do you think about your place getting busted into?”

“I’m just glad Miranda wasn’t there alone.”

“I think I’m going to teach her how to shoot when the season’s over,” he tells me,
“maybe even get her a concealed carry permit.”

“You trust her with a gun?”

“Hell yeah. She’s not as dingy as she seems. She’s just...like I said before...kind of careless about some things. But you should hear her. She’s got Ignatius teaching her how to do housework.”

I flush, because I know that’s for me, and I don’t know what to think about it.

“She’s trying hard,” he tells me. “Maybe you should give her another chance, teach her what flies and what doesn’t. I take the paddle to her ass when she gets out of hand with me.”

“I know. She told me.”

I felt a little uncomfortable discussing Miranda’s discipline, especially in a public place, but the waitress comes and breaks up our conversation.

“Rum and soda,” I say, and instantly regret my choice, because it reminds me of Miranda and the first night we met, how she fixed me a really good drink.

“She really knows how to throw a party,” I tell Tommy, once the waitress is gone.

“Yeah, she does. I’ve got her trained for it.”

A minute later, the waitress returns with our drinks. Mine’s good, but not as good as the one Miranda made me.

“Listen, do you think she loves me? I know she says she does, but maybe she’s saying it because I said it.”

“Does she love you? She’s over there working a shitty little mall job and learning to clean toilets for you.”

“She is? She’s still working there? I thought for sure she’d quit as soon as she got home.”

“Nope. She’s still doing it. And she’s so stinking proud of herself, it makes me proud, too.”

I nod, and then laugh, because a woman like her has no business having to do housework or work at the mall.

“What about her classes?”

“She says she’s still going. She’d better go, if she knows what’s good for her.”

I pick up my drink and take a slug off it, then I set it down and rest my head on my hand.

“Damn, I’ve got jet lag,” I tell him.

“Could just be that broken heart you’re nursing.”

My gaze meets his and I can’t help but grin.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He sits back in his chair.

“Look, Jason, you should take it easy. After all, we’ve got eight more days on the road. Give it a little time. She might do something else to surprise you.”

“Besides capturing a dirt-bag criminal?”

“You never know what that kid’s going to get into. Thank God she didn’t go over there alone. I need to teach her how to fight.”

I don’t say anything, because I can’t imagine a girl her size fighting anybody.

“Well,” he says, killing his drink. “We’ve got a really early game tomorrow, so I’m going back to the hotel.”

“Yeah,” I say, finishing my drink, too. “Let’s get out of here.”

I’m starting to realize why Miranda kept her job. It’s a lot easier to work than it is to try to figure out a relationship, especially a broken one like ours. I spend a busy day at the game, and we’re done by about two. The bus takes us back to the hotel to pack for our next stop, Baltimore. We have three games there, and then a day off before we head off to Texas. We’ll get home in time to play New York and Seattle, and then another road trip, but this one only for four days.

Baltimore’s nice with early summer weather. I wish I had someone to buy a present for, because that was a lot of fun picking things out and bringing them home. It seems like everybody else on the team comes back to the hotel each night with handled shopping bags from designer stores. I go out walking and window-shopping, but that just depresses me, especially when I run across a bridal salon.

Miranda will have to pick her dress very carefully if she wants to hide her scar. I imagine her in her gown, how pretty she’ll look. I wish she were standing right here next to me.

I turn around and head back to the hotel. I’m sharing a room with Brad Chandler again, and when I get there, he’s kicking back on his bed watching the news. He sits up when I enter and shuts off the TV as I flop down on my own bed.

“Do you want to Skype with Miranda? I’ll get out if here if you do.”

I glance over at him and shake my head.

“No. Unfortunately, we’re on the outs.”

He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. He leans forward and pats me on the knee in a fatherly manner.

“No kidding? That’s too bad. You kids seemed like you had a nice thing going.”

“Yeah, but she’s kind of spoiled and immature, and I just don’t know if I’m up to it.”

He nods.

“Yeah. She’s pretty young, but she has a good heart, Jason, and that counts for a lot. Hell, if my son wasn’t gay, I’d fix him up with her.” When I just sit there looking miserable, he pats my knee again. “Come on, kid. Let’s go down and have a beer.”

“All right,” I tell him, anxious to shut off my brain and stop thinking about Miranda for thirty seconds. “Let’s do that.”

When we get down to the bar, Tommy’s there, sitting backwards in a chair and keeping a crowd of about ten guys entertained. He has a real knack for being amusing, and when he sees me, he turns his ball cap around and addresses me.

“Hey, Jason,” he says. “You’ll never believe what that girl of mine’s done now.”

“No? What’s that?”

“She just won over eighteen hundred dollars at the Indian casino. She put forty bucks in the damned thing and won on the first spin.”

I don’t want to seem bitter, so I grin. “Talk about luck,” I tell him.

“She’s always had good luck like that.”

He turns back to his group, and Brad and I go sit down nearby, near enough to be friendly, but far enough to have some privacy. Brad orders a pitcher of beer and turns to me.

“You all right?”

“Maybe I should look for a new job,” I tell him. “Otherwise I’ll have to hear about her for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t quit your job for that, son. You’ll get over her, trust me.”

“How do you get over a girl like her?”

“I don’t know. It just happens. At least she didn’t run off with your teammate like my first wife did.”

He tells me the story in a funny, non-self-pitying way, and it does take my mind off Miranda. By the time we head up to our room, I’m feeling like my old self again. I feel like calling her up and congratulating her, but that might send mixed signals.

Tomorrow, at long last, is our day off. I need it to think about Miranda, but it’s hard to think with people around all the time. I want to be home in my own condo so I can sit down and really consider the pros and cons of staying with her or breaking up with her for good. I have a good idea and decide to go to the big library downtown with a notebook and a pen.

It’s a short walk from our hotel, and when I open the big double doors, I’m hit with a blast of cold air. Since it’s the middle of the day on a weekday, there are plenty of empty tables, although some are taken up by the homeless. I find an empty one in a far corner and sit down to make my notes.

I sit there with my notebook open for a long time before I can even think of anything to write, but finally, I get going.

Too young, I write. Still in college. Too rich. Immature and spoiled. Too...

I can’t think of any more cons for the time being, so I work on the pros.

Kind. Pretty. Outgoing. Doesn’t mind that I’m not rich. Honest. Hard-working. Good sense of humor. Sweet. Adorable. Willing to work with me.

She’ll probably quit her job now that she’s won a bunch of money. I wish I could talk to her and find out. I wish I could talk to her without giving her false hope. I wish I could just call her and congratulate her, if nothing else, but I know I can’t. I know it’s not fair, that it’s selfish to yank her chain if I have no serious intentions towards her.   

I go back to the cons. Too emotional, I write, and then I sit there, trying to remember anything else she’s ever done to irritate me, any other character flaws. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought I did, but I can’t think of one damn thing, so I switch over to the pros column again.

Brave. Fearless. Fair-minded. Heart like a lion.

I can’t believe she caught a crook, and she wasn’t even freaked out about it. I can’t believe she sat there and won a jackpot. We have three more games to play before we get home, and I wonder what else she’ll find to get into in those three days. No wonder Tommy has Ignatius stay with her while he’s gone. No telling what she’d do if he left her alone.

I rip the page out of the notebook, and then I fold it up and stick it in my pocket. I get up and leave the blank notebook there for anyone who wants it. I leave the library and wander aimlessly for a while, and then I walk down to the waterfront.

I should live like Miranda. I should get myself into adventures, try new things. I’m passing a dock with a huge sailboat tied up to it, and I stop to admire it. This one’s spectacular. I’ve never been on a sailboat in my life. Hell, I’ve never even been out on the water. My dad just isn’t a boat guy. There’s a booth there, and a guy behind a glass window selling tickets.

“You want a ticket?” he asks, through the little hole in the glass.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “Why not?”

I pay for my ticket and go down the dock to get on the boat. There are two guys from the team, one named Haskell and another named Martinez, standing there with a couple of girls, and they’re all four drinking champagne. I go over and say hi, and they introduce me to their wives. One of them looks about as young as Miranda and I think, maybe I’m looking at this thing all wrong. Maybe Miranda’s age is a lousy thing to hold against her.

I could take a page out of Tommy’s book and blister her butt when she acts up. It seemed to work all right the other time I did it, and it seems to work well for him. Maybe spanking her is a good way to settle her down when she gets too rambunctious.

The deck hand casts off and we pull away from the dock. It doesn’t take long for the sails to fill. The boat lurches out to sea, a freshening breeze blowing over the deck. I should’ve brought a jacket, but I never dreamed the temperature could change so much just a few short miles from shore.

I hang onto the rail and look out at the puffy white clouds. My heart soars. The water’s a wide swath of grey-blue looking east, but looking west, it’s an amazing shade of turquoise. The land recedes with every moment, and we stand there with our glasses of champagne, enjoying it.

“Oh, my God, this is so pretty,” says Martinez’s wife, and I have to agree. I wish Miranda were here with me, because I know she’d enjoy it. I don’t even know if she’s ever been to Baltimore, much less been on a sailboat.

“What do you say, coach?” asks Haskell. “Pretty nice, huh?”

“Yeah. Makes you want to buy a boat, huh?”

I sit with the guys and their wives for the whole trip, and I’m a little sad when it wraps up. I wonder what Miranda’s doing today; wonder if she’s managed to get herself into any more adventures.

I love her. I do, but I’m not sure I can keep up with a girl like her. I’m afraid she’ll outpace me and I’ll end up turning sour. I glance back out to sea and try to see things from her view, but I don’t know what to think anymore.

“More champagne, sir?”

“Sure. Why not?”

The next morning, we’re on the bus early. It’s a short flight from Baltimore to Texas, and I wish this trip would end. It’s hot as hell in Texas, like it always is, and I’m really looking forward to going home, even if I do have to face Miranda, but I’m tired and determined not to let her back into my heart until I’ve had a chance to talk to her.

On the other hand, I don’t want to talk to her, don’t even want to see her at this point in time. I’m glad I won’t have to get my keys from her, but I wonder what Ignatius will have to say to me.

I’m unpacking my bags when there’s a knock at the door. I cross the room and open it, and Tommy’s there grinning at me.