Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue Ch. 02

"HA! Ain't that the truth." She gave me a wink. "So, anyway, we get the official death knell notification and I'm like, well, what the fuck do I do now?"

"Don't you have, like, three different degrees?"

"Three different majors, not degrees. But in any case State says to me, 'hey, come be an assistant coach.' And I'm like 'whoa, that sounds like a great idea, what could possibly go wrong?'"

I took a pull from my soda. "I'm guessing there was indeed some wrongness."

"Indeed. I was a terrible coach."

I paused while screwing the cap back on my bottle. "Wait, what? How? Why?"

"You left out 'when' and 'where,' Lois Lane." She tapped a finger against her chin. "I was like a year and a half removed from being one of, if not the, best players in the world. They made me the catchers' coach, gave me four women barely younger than myself to be in charge of. They were all good, very good, but they weren't as good as I had been and it drove me *nuts*. I had no patience with them not being able to wait on a pitch and drive it to the opposite field with power. I gritted my teeth every time one of their throws to second wasn't exactly where it needed to be. And when I'd discovered they were spending time on something other than softball, training, or classes? Hoo boy." Tish let out a sigh, her entire body deflating. "Ten years later, at the suggestion of my therapist, I sought them out so I could apologize for the year of hell I put them through."

My eyes widened. "You were that bad?"

"I was frustrated, angry, and bitter. I took it out on them for not being me, and that was an awful thing to do." She took her hands off the wheel long enough to crack her knuckles. "The only saving grace was that none of them were seniors, so at least I didn't ruin anyone's final year. Both the AD and I agreed that I should move on when the season ended with as little fanfare as possible, and a few months later your life improved markedly when we got jobs with the same company."

"Little did I know the significance of that moment."

She exhaled. "You weren't getting optimized Latisha at that point. Not that I wasn't still worth the price of admission and then some, but I was working through some shit. Still am, obviously, but I'm a better person now."

"As we head toward a wedding being attended out of spite," I said with a grin.

"Not just spite. Also to flaunt about how well I'm doing, how great I look, and the quality of my date." She gave me a meaningful glance. "That's you, by the way. QUITE the catch."

"I bet you say that to all the guys you grab as a last minute replacement."

She started to reply but caught herself, falling oddly quiet for long enough that I began to wonder if I'd touched a nerve. Not caring for the awkward silence, I faked a cough and dove in again.

"So, where were we? Are we to the story at the center of this Tootsie Pop?"

Tish nodded, her face easing into a smile. "I like that, because my inner sweetness is indeed a different flavor than my outer. So I - whoa, I didn't know cheeks could get that red! Bear, you have a dirty mind!" She dissolved into laughter while I shrugged and nodded. Giving the stirring in my shorts things were going to get a whole lot more embarrassing (yet also encouraging given my overall picture) unless the subject got changed. Lucky for me Tish remained interested in airing her dirty laundry, so to speak.

"Anyway, my delicate flower, several years back I get a call from the woman who'd been my catching coach at ASU. She's an assistant AD at New Orleans State U and her boss has an offer for me."

I frowned. "NOSU... isn't that where what's-her-name, Constance McVry, hasn't she been coaching there for like a century or so?"

"Not quite that long, but a while. I fly down on their dime and meet the AD. Constance has been there forever but the softball program hasn't been relevant in at least a decade. Her contract is up in two years and the plan is to hire me as an assistant, let me learn what I can from her, and when they don't offer her a renewal - she's going to be 87 or something like that by then - I get the job."

"And she was on board with that?"

Tish waved a finger. "One of the many questions I should have asked, but didn't. Instead I dove in head first without checking how deep the water was. I was asked not to speak about the future and instead to focus on my job as so not to take away from McVry's last two seasons." She grabbed her tea, took a drink. "The first indication that perhaps I wasn't getting all sides of the story was when I showed up and was put to work - scouting other teams via video."

"That doesn't sound like what the catching coach does. Is it?"

"On a tiny staff, maybe, but this was NOSU and I was doing the job of an intern, or even an injured player. I figured it was a temporary thing but despite there not being another catching coach there - the previous one had retired - during the Fall I wasn't even getting asked to be out on the field during team practices or individuals. After a few weeks one of the catchers, who knew who I was, came to me for coaching. The other catchers followed."

I cocked my head. "They can do that?"

"Sure. During Fall players are pretty much expected to be doing something related to softball every moment they aren't doing schoolwork. Some hire outside coaches, trainers, and so on." Her fingernails, a rather sedate red, tapped out a rhythm along the top of the steering wheel airbag. "They'd seen me at full team meetings but at no point had Coach McVry or anyone else introduced me or indicated that I was supposed to be the catching coach. The AD told me to be patient, that everything would work out soon enough."

"Not so much?"

"Not so much. Over time I managed to find out that McVry hadn't been consulted on my hiring, was furious about it, and determined to freeze me out as much as possible. Turns out she had no intention of retiring when her contract was up and had adroitly surmised that the AD had me in mind as her replacement. It was December before I managed to get in to talk to her alone, and I damn near had to stalk her to accomplish that."

"And how'd that go?"

"After she stopped yelling at me because she might have collapsed otherwise? Better than expected. I told her I'd been hired as the catching coach and that's what I wanted to be. I didn't admit that the AD had loftier plans for me but I didn't deny them either - I was more than happy to let her target her ire on the slippery weasel that had tossed me into this mess." She used her fingers to glide the truck around another person who didn't understand the concept of the fast lane. "You suck, Miss. Go do the speed limit in the slow lane. Where was I? Oh, detente. Or some watered-down version of it, anyway. I was allowed to work with the catchers, including at practices, but otherwise I was persona non grata. Not that it really mattered because the talent level there... yikes."

I was starting to wish I'd grabbed the Fritos as my stomach made a low growl. "No longer one of the best programs?"

She rolled her eyes. "She was coasting on her reputation instead of going out and doing the legwork and the recruiting. Scholarships mean you'll always ink some decent players, but it also means you're getting the leftovers because the best ones went to where they thought they had the best chance of winning. But I'll give her this, she was pretty shrewd. Scheduled a load of games against inferior schools before the conference season started to pad our record before the whuppings started, so at season's end we were a game over.500. Good enough for them, I guess. Meanwhile, I started deciding in my mind which coaches could stay and which I was going to jettison into the Gulf." Her lips twisted into a wry grin. "There were going to be a lot of splashes, I can tell you that."

"Ha!" Her eyes flicked in my direction as my tummy got a little more vocal.

"Why didn't you get something to eat at the absurdly clean gas station?" Tish made an exasperated sound before rummaging around and producing a bulging ziploc bag. "Lucky for you I made a ton of my personal recipe trail mix and am beneficent enough to share it with you. Feast, my fortunate friend."

Nodding thanks, I took the bag and, after opening it, tossed a small handful into my mouth. "Uhm. UHM. That's really good." It was. Not just a nice sweet and salty mix but other zesty spices on there as well. I started chowing down in earnest as she, with a satisfied smile, continued.

"Then, over the summer, the AD was fired. 'Mutual parting of the ways' and all that, but his ass got punted for sure. New AD was announced a few days later, and a week after that the exciting news that Couch McVry was being extended for another three years."

I paused, my mouth stuffed with snacky goodness. "Oops."

"Oops indeed. That summer found me in a place where I didn't really know anyone, being zoned out by my fellow coaches, and having zero luck dating. It was not one of the high points of my life, despite the awesome city that is New Orleans. I had trouble sleeping, kept to myself too much, and was feeling lethargic - sound familiar at all?" The look she gave me was a mixture of sadness and concern, and I could almost feel it in my chest. "My contract ran for another year and I was enjoying the coaching aspect, even somewhat hobbled, so I stuck it out. We managed TWO games over.500 that time, all praise Coach McV. There wasn't even a whiff of an offer made in my direction. Feeling pretty fucking low, I tucked my tail between my legs and came creeping back to our employer, who was kind enough to rehire me. And then I got people like you back into my life and shit got better, for the most part."

"Most part?" I stopped eating, liberating a napkin from the center console and wiping at my gunked-up hand. "That sounds like something that falls under the authorization of the Zone of Truth."

"Hoist with my own petard yet again." She let a heavy sigh escape. "I was happy to get my job back at first, but I started to realize it wasn't what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Plus, outside of you and a few other people, there's not much here for me anymore. Okay, that sounds awful and minimizes how important you are to me. That's not how I meant it to come across. It's just-" she waved her hands for emphasis - "I'm lonely. And if I stay lonely, I'm going to get unhappy. And if that happens, well..." Tish gestured in my direction. "Then I'm in the same boat you are. I've been there before, don't want to be there again, sorry."

Ye gods, this had been a hell of a morning. "I didn't know you were feeling this way. It seemed to me that you're always dating this athlete or that athlete, but I might be clueless."

She laughed. "You are, but that's part of why I adore you. I've never met anyone as guileless as you, Bear. But yes, clueless. Do you know why I date so many jocks?" At my shrug she said, "Because they're usually the only ones who are interested. I couldn't tell you how many men I've encountered who couldn't imagine dating me because I was bigger than them."

My face bunched up. "What? How is that a thing? I mean, you're magnificent." And starring in my dreams as of late, truth be kept to myself.

"Mmm. Use three words or phrases to describe the appearance of every woman you've been involved with over the past ten years, Bear."

"What?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment. "Humor me."

"Okay." I started running the highlight reel of my romances in my mind. Hair color... no set preference. Same with eye color. "Uhm."

"Let me help you," she said in a flat tone. She popped a finger up for each of her selections. "Willowy. Model-level gorgeous. Very long hair. Add them together and you get the traditional definition of female attractiveness."

I started to object before catching myself... she was right. "Ah. It seems I have a type."

"Mmm-hmm. Not just you, Bear. Most dudes follow that path and in case you haven't noticed, I don't have any of those traits."

"Bullshit. You're absolutely fucking beautiful."

She gave me a fond look. "Thank you, but not in the sense I identified. Guys look at me as an oddity, something different that's probably not worth the effort. I am not frat-boy fodder, Bear."

I wasn't a believer in the 'friend-zone' bullshit but that didn't matter anyway, as Tish had never given me any indication that I lit her fire and I wasn't interested in becoming a Creepy Stalker Dude. That being said, it made me sad that it didn't feel okay to tell her that I thought she was someone I wished I could be with. "Okay, but do you care if those types of dudes aren't interested in you?"

"In theory? No. But it also sucks to be alone unless I'm willing to lower my standards." Tish fiddled with her hair. "I'm not saying all professional athletes are on the self-centered, somewhat narcissistic side but it sure has been prevalent in the ones I've been involved with. I mean, it's understandable."

"Is it?" I closed up the bag of snacks before I emptied the damn thing, putting it on the console. "Isn't a jerk a jerk?"

"Sure, but most of these guys have been placed on a pedestal since they were little kids. They were the best and so were told they were special, treated like they were special, spoiled like they were special. Now they're in the pros, where their every need is taken care of, so the royal treatment continues on." She shook her head. "They don't need to come back to the real world - this treatment is their real world. Which, hey, good for them. If you're one of the 1700 or so guys skilled enough to be in the NFL you deserve the accolades. Doesn't make them adept at handling a relationship, though."

I rolled a question around in my head for a bit, debating on whether or not to ask it before deciding what the fuck. "Okay, don't take this the wrong way-"

Tish let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Pretty hard not to with that lead in. Kind of like 'I'm not a racist but..."

"Fair enough. Let me try to ask it in a non-douchey way." I blew a raspberry. "Were you, as an athlete succeeding at elite levels, ever guilty of the same thing?"

She started to answer immediately before catching herself, her expression morphing from indignation to thoughtful contemplation as the highway sang beneath our wheels. A solid minute later she nodded a few times. "Yeah, I mean, I had no interest in fuckboy timewasters, if that's what you mean. Figuring out that I needed to avoid that shit was through hard-earned experience, though."

"Understood. Well, maybe you'll find someone more to your liking at LJSU. Whole new world for you to explore."

Instead of responding Tish fixed her eyes on the road ahead, her hands loosening and tightening around the steering wheel. It felt like she wanted to say something and I hoped it wasn't to yell at me for inferring that the younger version of her might have been guilty of what bothered her now in others. As the oppressive silence dragged out I almost wished she would. Being left alone in my own head at the moment wasn't a lot of fun, as I was still reeling from the news that she was leaving. Speaking of...

"So, uhm, when are you leaving?" Fuck, but it was difficult to get that out without my voice wavering. I could feel my throat closing up at the thought of it.

"Uhm. I gave notice on Tuesday and we agreed I'd stay for three more weeks." She waved a hand. "Not sure why they need me to, there's at least three people under me who'll be better at my job than I ever was."

I did some figuring. "Isn't this going to be way too late for you to be able to recruit for this year? It's late June."

"Not making the jump to D1 until next year. One more season at D2 with what's already there. Meanwhile I can start wooing high school seniors in the fall. It's not going to be easy, but I'm excited." She gave me a long look. "I am handicapping the hell out of my bid to get your writing submitted, Bear. No more Tish's Tales of Woe for now. Let's get back to you."

"Oh, goody. Look, this is my excited face."

"Is it? No wonder Jessica unloaded on you, you look like you're waiting in line at Motor Vehicles." She laughed as I stuck out my tongue. "What did you say before? 'Don't threaten me with a good time,' right? Tell me what else is bothering you."

"Why do you assume something else is bothering me?"

"Because I've known you long enough to know, Bear. I get it, you're a bit punchy at all the revelations and open discussion so far but don't stop now." She cocked her head. "Do I need to say it?"

"Yeah, yeah, Zone of Truth, I get it." I brooded for a moment or three. "They just changed the VP of my department."

Tish let out a low whistle. "Bringing in a former writer, I hope?"

"Oh, you adorable thing. Of course not, why would you want someone creative in charge of the creative arm of the company? Came up through programming. When he gave the 'rah-rah-everything's-great-nothing's-going-to-change' speech he avoided making eye contact with me, so I got that going for me."

"How long have you been head writer? Was it right before I came back?"

I rubbed at my nose before shaking my head. "A little over three years ago. Perfect amount of time to 'shake something up' and cut my salary free in order to show departmental savings." I gave a rueful chuckle. "Why do you think I got promoted? Gina let Sarah go and promoted me for much less than she'd been paying her. Circle of life, I suppose."

"Okay. So, how are you not more of a mess?"

"I mean you've already informed me that I'm depressed, so is that not messy enough?" I spread my arms wide. "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?"

"I'm starting to pick up on that things are a little worse for you right now than I imagined, but that's on me. Been distracted with getting the new job, and I apologize for that." She gave me a playful punch in the shoulder. "Even though you're going to have the best weekend of your life and all you should still get someone professional to talk to."

"Understood. I'll use the insurance from the job I'm going to get canned from to pay, of course." At her baleful glance I held up my hands. "Teasing. I don't disagree that it's a good idea. Of course you have a degree so I could talk to you..." I trailed off at the reminder that she was going to be several thousands of miles away soon.

"Hey." Judging by the soothing tone she adopted I must not have done a very good job of hiding the disappointment on my face. "First, while I have a degree I'm not a professional. Second, I'm not dropping off the planet. I will be bothering you ALL the time, I promise. Plus there are ways we can play games online so just because I'm on the West Coast doesn't mean you won't still get your ass kicked."

I nodded without enthusiasm, belatedly noticing that we'd eased over and were approaching an off-ramp. "Something wrong?"

"I mean, yes in that we're at the exit to take us to the awful wedding that awaits us, but otherwise it's fine." She gave me a quick smile as I lapsed back into brooding. "I'm not going to say everything's going to be okay, Bear. I'm going to miss the hell out of you but I hope we stay an active part of each other's life."

"Of course," I said, turning to look out the window so I could wipe away the tears welling up in the corner of my eyes before she noticed. Just like with Marisol. Maybe she'd give me updates on the awesome person she'll eventually meet out there too. I knew I was being ridiculous and wallowing in self-pity but man, slings and arrows and all that. Surrendering to the inevitable, I grabbed a napkin and blew my nose, dabbing under my sunglasses at the same time. An uneasy silence fell between us as she turned onto a busy four-lane road boasting a number of gas stations and stores.

_Welcome to Miller's Bluff,_ I thought. _You're going to need to be one hell of a town to make this the best weekend ever._