Marlee frowned and stuck out her lower lip. Susie wanted to hold her tight, but settled for patting her hand, since the wheelchair restricted her movements.

"Or, wait," Sam said. "We could tell Bree that Marlee's pregnant."

"Yeah," Lisa agreed, "with Susie's baby."

Susie and Jeri burst out laughing.

Marlee grinned, but looked confused at the same time. "Why do I have to be the one who's pregnant?"

"Because," Sam cocked her head to one side, "you're the one with the stalker."

"Oh, man," Marlee shook her head. "Can we please think of something else?"

"You could be stupid or boring," Jeri suggested. "Like tell her a story that goes on and on and on--"

"Oh, like one of your stories maybe?" Marlee teased.

"I resemble that remark," Jeri said with a laugh.

Sam looked at Marlee with a serious expression. "You could tell her you're straight."

"Lie?" Marlee frowned.

Susie looked at Marlee. "It comes with the territory. You know that."

"I know, but--" Marlee glanced up the stairs. "I hate the lying part."

"We all do," Sam said.

Lisa cleared her throat and turned toward Susie. "Will you be able to play on Tuesday?"

Susie shrugged. She wanted to play, because she had already missed two weeks of the season, and if she missed any more, Coach Gellar would kill her. She had to play. Feet, or no feet, she had no choice.

"Uh, oh, Sus," Sam said. "I've seen that look before." She shot a glance at Lisa.

Lisa help up her healed hand. "She watched me stubbornly play four games with a broken hand."

"Which was really dumb," Sam made a face at Lisa, "but I understood why. They were playing for a state championship."

"Clarksonville!" Jeri cheered. Marlee and Lisa joined her in a chant of "State champs! State champs! State champs!"

Susie rolled her eyes for their benefit and then looked at Sam. "Dios mio, one little state championship, and they get all smug."

"Yeah, really." Sam rested her head on her chin looking bored.

Susie made a show of yawning big.

Once the impromptu celebration ended, Marlee said, "Seriously, Susie, this is just a summer game. It's not worth it."

"I know." Susie shrugged again, but if Coach Gellar granted her the honor of actually putting her in the game, then she would have to play.

"Hey, guys," Marlee pleaded, "I'll work on her later."

Lisa burst out laughing. "I'm sure you will."

Susie laughed along with everyone else, but Marlee stuck out her lower lip again. "C'mon, guys. We have two days to come up with Plan D."

Chapter Seventeen.

Una Cabrona SUSIE SAT IN the passenger seat of Marlee's van at Sandstoner Fields. They were waiting for Sam to bring Susie's uniform and gear. Her friends weren't happy with her insistence on playing in the game, but she convinced them it would be okay, that her feet had started to heal. Marlee even made her do ten jumping jacks in her kitchen to prove she was okay. Susie did it, but every time she landed on her raw feet she wanted to scream. Somehow she kept a grin on her face throughout the torturous trial.

The three days Susie spent at Marlee's had calmed her nerves somewhat. Whenever Marlee's mother left the house to go to her office or to show a property, they had the whole place to themselves. They imagined that it was their house, and they had started their life together. Marlee fixed breakfast every day and the one night they were on their own for dinner, Susie made arroz con pollo with fried plantains for dessert. She made sure there were enough leftovers for Marlee's mother to have when she got home. That had been a big hit, and Susie couldn't help thinking she'd scored some major points with Marlee's mom that evening.

The worst times were when Marlee had to go to D'Amico's to work. On Monday, Susie called Christy to give her the 411 on her latest drama, but it seemed as if Christy just wanted to talk about her own problems. It was then that Susie realized Christy had never been there for her over the years. Christy had always leaned on her, but they had rarely talked about Susie's problems. After Susie hung up, she understood that Christy just wasn't capable of being there for her.

Other than the one phone call to Christy, Susie tried to distract herself by watching television, but more often than not, she simply turned it off and slept or played with Patches. The best times were when Marlee was home and lay down with her on the couch. Susie wasn't up for much more than cuddling, and Marlee seemed okay with that. Susie hoped Marlee had been serious about one day living together, because she wanted that, too. More than ever.

Sitting in the van holding hands with Marlee at the field, Susie tried to hang on to the sweet memories, but couldn't help the feeling of dread hanging over her. Would Coach Gellar completely ignore her again? And, even worse, would her mother start another shouting match when she got home later after the game? She hadn't seen her mother in three days, after all, and had even missed the special Sunday dinner with Senora Rodriquez and Roberto.

Marlee touched her arm. "Are you okay? You're a million miles away."

"I'm okay." Susie plastered a smile on her face knowing it didn't reach her eyes. "I just hope my feet'll hold up." She attempted a laugh, but it sounded false even to her own ears.

"At least the swelling's gone."

"Yeah," Susie agreed, but the swelling wasn't completely gone, and her cuts hadn't healed yet. Not that she told Marlee, but every step hurt like hell. Maybe the swelling had been masking some of the pain. She really wasn't sure how she was going to cope if a miracle happened, and Coach Gellar put her in the game.

"Oh, here's Sam and Lisa." Marlee pointed to Sam's Sebring.

Sam parked her car next to the van. She and Lisa got out and pulled their gear and Susie's out of the trunk.

"Here you go." Sam handed Susie her softball gear and a Price Chopper bag with Susie's uniform inside.

Susie nodded her thanks. "Did you see Isabella when you went by my house?"

"Nope," Sam shook her head. "Your grandmother had everything ready when we pulled up. I think she even ironed your shirt."

Susie laughed and pulled out her uniform jersey. "She did. Check this out." She held up her shirt. There was a crisp crease running down each sleeve. "Thanks for running over there for me. I was too chicken."

"Hey," Sam shrugged, "I don't blame you. You were avoiding World War III."

Susie nodded and then hopped into the van to get changed.

"C'mon," Sam turned toward Lisa. "Let's give Ms. Torres some privacy."

Lisa shouldered her catcher's gear. "We'll see you guys in the dugout." They headed toward the field.

Susie slid the side door of the van closed and then changed into her uniform. She slipped on her cleats and almost cried out at how tight they felt. Yeah, her feet were still a little swollen. She loosened the laces, and that helped ease the pain.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she stepped out of the van onto the pavement. Her feet protested when she put her full weight on them, but there was nothing she could do about it for over two hours.

"Ready?" Susie grabbed the handle of her softball bag.

"Are you sure?" Marlee's blue eyes searched Susie's brown ones.

Susie softened at the concern she saw reflected in Marlee's face. "I'll be fine. C'mon, let's kick some Southbridge boo-tay."

They headed toward the field, but Marlee stopped and scanned the quickly filling parking lot. "Jeri said she was coming to the game today."

"She just wants to watch Plan D in operation, I think." Susie frowned.

"I know you don't like Plan D, but Sam thinks it's the only way."

Susie growled. "Plan D sucks!"

They stepped onto the field and Marlee groaned. "Speaking of Southbridge stalkers." She pointed toward the Southbridge side of the field with her chin. Bree stood on the outfield grass stretching with some of her teammates. As if sensing that Marlee was watching her, Bree looked up and waved. Marlee plastered a cheesy smile on her face and waved back. "Plan D better work. I can't take much more of this."

"Me, neither." Susie tossed her bag on the bench and took out her glove and batting gloves. She pulled her bat out of the sleeve compartment of the bag and hung it on the rack. She plunked her batting helmet into the cubby with her name on it.

Her Nor'easter teammates headed onto the field in dribs and drabs to stretch and warm up their arms. It felt so good to get back out on the field with them. Susie had mixed feelings about whether or not she wanted Coach Gellar to put her in the game. Her head said, "Yes," but her feet said, "Hell, no!"

"Circle up, Nor'easters," Coach Gellar called from where she stood just outside the dugout.

Susie's stomach knotted up as she waited for the starting lineup.

"Okay, girls. We're the home team, so we'll be in the field first. Here's today's lineup. Jacobs in center, Payton at second, Torres in left, Brown catching, McAllister pitching--"

Susie stopped listening once she heard that she and all her friends were starting. Coach Gellar probably thought Susie had learned her lesson, whatever lesson that was supposed to be, so maybe everything was going back to normal. Maybe Plan D would work, too, and maybe Susie's mother would welcome her home with open arms. And maybe pigs would fly, too.

After both teams took their pre-game warm-ups, the home plate umpire called for the Nor'easters to take the field. Just before running out, Marlee whispered to Susie, "Take yourself out of the game if it gets too bad."

Susie frowned. Marlee could probably tell that her feet still hurt.

"Susie, c'mon," Marlee pleaded. "Fake a different injury if you have to, okay? It's not worth it."

Susie couldn't resist Marlee's pleading expression. "I will. I promise." And she meant it. She took off running for left field. Her feet hurt, but surprisingly, they didn't protest as much as she thought they would.

She found her spot in left field and threw her glove to the ground. She took off her hat, and pulled the hair band off of her hair. With both hands, she pulled her hair back and then twisted the band back on. She placed her pony tail up on her head and plunked her hat back on. The familiar ritual helped Susie feel grounded. The smell of the freshly cut grass mixed with the distinctive smell of the infield dirt made her feel like she was alive. Her troubles usually faded away once the umpire yelled, "Play ball!"

Through the first six innings, the game remained scoreless. The Nor'easters had plenty of base runners and plenty of opportunities to score, but Bree seemed to have developed a few more pitches and held them scoreless. On the plus side, Marlee had pretty much singlehandedly kept the Southbridge Bombers scoreless, too.

Susie ran back onto the field as the Nor'easters took the field at the top of the seventh inning. "Go get 'em, Tiger," she said as she sprinted past Marlee in the pitcher's circle.

"I'll do my best," Marlee called after her.

Susie's feet had swollen up again major big time, but since it helped mask the pain, that was fine with her.

Susie found her favorite spot in left field and punched her glove, ready to hold the Southbridge team scoreless yet again. The first batter of the inning flied out to right field, but then the universe changed the plans with the next batter. Abby, the Nor'easter's shortstop made a rare fielding error and the batter was safe at first. The third batter of the inning got on base with a clean base hit up the middle. Marlee must have been rattled because she walked the fourth batter to load the bases. Susie groaned and punched her glove. Bree was up with the bases loaded and only one out. All she needed to do was punch a single through the infield or hit a sacrifice fly ball and the Southbridge team would score a go-ahead run. Susie crouched low. The last thing she wanted was for Bree to be the hero for her team. That would be like adding salt to the Bree wound.

"C'mon, pitcher," Susie shouted to Marlee from left field, "fire it in there." Don't let Bree be the hero.

Marlee put her hands together and fired the pitch toward the plate. The pitch hung over the plate, and Bree launched a rocket down the left field line.

Susie sprinted toward the sharply hit line drive, and made a split-second decision to dive for it. She took two more steps, pushed off with her right foot, and leaped toward the screaming liner. She stretched her glove arm out as far as it would go. The ball thunked into her glove and she squeezed it tight bracing for impact at the same time. She hit the ground with a grunt, but held on to the ball. Her teammates' cheers gave her the strength to scramble to her feet. The runner, probably thinking the ball would drop in for a hit, had taken off for home and was scrambling back to third base. Susie rifled the ball to the base a split second before the runner got back.

"Out!" the umpire yelled.

Susie leaped in celebration. A move she regretted as soon as her swollen feet landed back on earth. She didn't care. She had just taken a hero moment away from Bree. She trotted back toward the Nor'easters' dugout. On the way she leaped over the ball lying in the pitcher's circle. There you go, Bree. The ball's back in your court.

Susie opened the dugout gate and high fived her teammates. Coach Gellar walked past her on the way to the third base coach's box. "Looked like you had lead in your feet there, Torres. My granny could have gotten to the ball faster." She left the dugout not waiting for Susie's response.

Susie clamped her lips shut and closed her eyes, afraid her Puerto Rican temper would flare up. She felt a hand on her back.

"Breathe," Marlee said.

Susie opened her eyes and blinked back angry tears. Why did her coach have to be una cabrona? She didn't know how much more of her coach's sarcasm she could take.

"C'mon," Marlee pointed to Sam taking her stance at the plate. "You're on deck."

Susie put her helmet on, grabbed her batting gloves and bat and headed to the on-deck circle. She put her batting gloves on and took several practice swings imagining herself hitting the ball solidly.

Up at the plate, Sam fouled off pitch after pitch until she finally walked to give the Nor'easters a base runner with no outs. Susie stepped up to the plate determined to get a hit and put Bree in her place once and for all. She dug her back foot into the batter's box and took her stance waiting for the pitch.

Bree took the sign from her catcher. Susie zeroed in on Bree's hip where the ball would be released. Bree went into her windup. The ball was on its way heading right for Susie's knees. She jumped to get out of the way, but couldn't move fast enough. The ball zinged into her calf.

Susie bit back the pain and headed toward first base. What she really wanted to do was storm the circle and sock Bree in the mouth with her fist. That way Bree's pain would match her own. Instead, she calmly trotted toward first and waved back the athletic trainer who had come running out of the dugout to see if she was okay.

"Way to take one for the team," Jeri called from the bleachers.

Susie took a deep bow toward Jeri, wondering how long she'd been there.

"Hey," Betsy the first base coach said, "are you okay?"

"Yup." Susie tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her calf. There was no way she'd look down at it now. No way she'd give Bree the satisfaction.

"Are you sure? 'Cuz I think she hit you on purpose."

"Oh, really? Why do you think that?" Because I think that, too.

"The catcher did this." Betsy held up her thumb to the side and then flicked her wrist up. "Does that mean anything?"