Riley smiled. “She’s only twelve. I mean, she’s ranked number one with her family…”
“Oh. That’s nice. That is, nice that she’s a recreational player. But my Woodchuck girls’ team has taken the state title for the past four consecutive years. Two of my recent grads are sitting out their senior year of high school because they’ve gone pro.”
“Do you hold tryouts for the team?” Riley asked.
“Oh, sure,” the coach said. “And she’s welcome to come out. But it’s only fair to warn you that I’ve got my team pretty well set for this year. But, hey, tell her to come see Coach Chase. We can always use somebody to hit around with.”
Riley clenched and unclenched her fists to keep herself from hitting the coach’s head.
* * *
Maggy was already in bed with the lights off. Riley climbed out of her work clothes and under the covers. She felt something squirming on the pillow next to her head.
“Is that Banksy?”
“Yes,” Maggy said.
“Can’t he sleep in his crate?”
“No. He misses me when I’m gone at school all day.”
“Me, too,” Riley said. “Okay. Just this once, he can stay. But not on my pillow.” She scooted the dog gently onto the mattress between them.
“I met some of your teachers at back-to-school night,” Riley said.
“That’s cool.”
“Hey, Maggy? How come you didn’t tell me Annabelle goes to your school? And she’s in your homeroom, and sits right in front of you.”
No answer.
Riley switched on the bedside lamp, and Maggy pulled the covers over her head. “Mom. I’m trying to sleep.”
“Talk to me, Margaret. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Dad always says nobody likes a whiner.”
Yes, Riley thought, he always did say that, but he almost always used it when he was accusing a woman of voicing dissatisfaction.
“It’s not necessarily whining to let your mother know you have a difficult situation in your life,” Riley said.
“What good would it do? Anyway, it’s fine. She acts like I’m not even there.”
“Has Annabelle been mean to you again? Said anything about your dad, or the diabetes, or the shots, or anything like that? Tell me the truth, Mags.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care. I don’t care about anybody at that school.”
Riley propped herself up on one elbow. “It’s not fine. You’re sad about school, and I’m sad about my job.”
“You are? Still?”
“Yeah,” Riley said. “I know I said it would get better, but I don’t think it will. My boss doesn’t like me very much, and the feeling is mutual.”
“Are you gonna quit?”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” Riley said truthfully. “But I don’t think I can keep doing a job that takes away my sense of self-respect.”
“Hey! I’ve got a great idea. If you quit your job, you can homeschool me. It would be awesome. You know, we could live on the island, and go to the beach every day.…”
“Whoa!” Riley laughed. “That’s a pretty fantasy. But one, I have to work. And two, I’d be a lousy homeschool mother. I can’t do math, and I don’t know squat about chemistry or biology. And three, even homeschooled kids don’t get to go to the beach all day. They have to sit in a classroom, and do homework, and, you know, actually take tests and learn. And, anyway, I thought you said all the kids on the island are stupid jerks.”
“I meant mostly Annabelle,” Maggy said. “Can I ask you something and you won’t get mad?”
“You can ask, but I can’t promise not to get mad,” Riley said. “I warn you, I’ve had a pretty crappy day.”
“Do you ever miss Dad?”
Riley had to think about that. Did she miss Wendell? Had her anger dissipated enough to allow her to be honest about her feelings for him?
“That’s still complicated for me, Maggy,” she admitted. “I know you miss him terribly. I guess I miss some things. I miss the pancakes he’d make sometimes on Sunday nights. And I miss seeing you with him, and knowing how proud he was of you. I miss the three of us, piled in bed, watching movies, and drinking Diet Coke, and having burp contests.”
“Yeah, the burp contests were awesome,” Maggy said. “Dad could really belch, couldn’t he?”
“If they had Olympic burping, he’d have been a gold medal contender,” Riley agreed. She rubbed her daughter’s back. “Go to sleep now, baby. We’ll figure it out somehow. Your PopPop used to say everything always looks better in the morning.”