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Mae found out about it accidentally. She’d been at the grocery store and there it was - a flier advertising an all-girl softball team that was forming in Rockford. They were looking for girls that could play – and she could play. She knew she didn’t have much of a pitching arm, but she was a great catcher and base-runner - adaptable. It’d been years since she’d moved from Michigan to Illinois and years since she’d left her softball team for the slightly-bigger city, and she missed the feeling of being part of the action.
She brought it up to Doris when they were in the middle of another Diablo raid. “Are you screwy? I get sunstroke!” Doris asked. Her knuckles were still raw from punching a too-handsy
“But you can hit like a brick – hard and fast,” Mae said. “And you’re competitive as hell – a great catcher.”
Doris snorted. “I see you talking, but all I hear is ‘Doris! I wanna meet more girls! Life in Rockford is boring!’”
“That is so unfair!” And Mae only wanted to meet more girls because Doris had told her repeatedly that she wasn’t her type. “I’m looking for a girl in plaid with a buzzcut, babe,” she’d said, and Mae had nearly cut her hair off right then and there but she didn’t want to hear the business from her boss. Hey, strippers could have buzzcuts! Wigs were a thing! But he was still a creep. “And life in Rockford IS boring – present company excluded.” Doris rolled her eyes and Mae tugged her arm. “Come on! Doncha wanna live a little? Meet some new people? Maybe find somebody to share this apartment with?”
Doris sighed. “Okay, maybe.”
Mae squeezed her shoulders. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”
***
“I regret this.”
Mae snorted. She couldn’t quite agree with Doris’ assessment, but she’d been right about the uniforms, which were old-fashioned, skirted pink cotton straight from the forties due to their sponsor – a costume shop trying to get customers in the fallow period between Memorial Day and Halloween. The Peaches were a ragtag but well-organized team after a couple of weeks of training. The coach, Jimmy, was married to their pitcher, Dottie – and it was hard to figure out which of them they were supposed to listen to on any given day. Some of the girls Mae had seen at various events – Betty and Evelyn had been together for years, Marla was a regular at Mae and Doris’ bar, and Mae sort of knew Dottie’s sister from the knitting club they were in together. It was a strange group, but Mae had always made herself at home in such settings.
“You’re not gonna regret this. We’ll have fun! And if we don’t well get drunk in the dugout between innings.”
“Sure,” Doris said. Then she nudged Mae’s shoulder. “You promise?”
Mae squeezed Doris’ shoulder back. “I promise.”
****
Mae realizes Doris has a crush on her – abruptly, with an electric shock quick stab of surprise – when she notes the look of jealously on Doris’ face as Evelyn spins Mae around the dance floor. They’d stopped off at a bar for a drink, and somehow Mae found herself dancing with every person in the room.
Hey, she’d earned it after landing that home run. The Peaches were finally turning an amazing corner, and she was ready to turn it loose.
She wanted Doris to feel free, too. “You can join in, ya know,” Mae said, pulling Doris onto the dance floor.
“Mae, c’mon! I don’t have rhythm!” Doris threw her hands against Mae’s shoulders.
“Hey, I’ve seen you at the club. Whenever Danny Five puts Pour Some Sugar On Me, you move that butt like someone’s lit it on fire.”
“That’s…not because of the music,” said Doris. “Shut up and dance with me!”
And that was exactly what Mae did. They struggled over the lead for a few bars, but ultimately managed to move along the floor with some semblance of grace and dignity. And hey, Doris seemed to be having fun – just like she’d been enjoying herself out in the hot sun, defending third base like it was the Hot Blonde.
Mae thought dancing with Doris was like dancing on air.
Who woulda thought it?
***
Everyone demanded pizza when they won the division finals, as if they’d been warped back to sixth grade and the only way to fully appreciate their decent league-wide lead was with big, gooey slices of dough dripping with sauce and cheese. Jimmy found a local joint that had four stars on Yelp (after arguing with Dottie that no, they weren’t going to drive five hours out of their way for a simple slice of pizza, even if it did get five stars from Michelin.). They stuffed their faces. Someone plugged a quarter into the jukebox. And, after dancing their feet sore, she and Doris went outside for some fresh air.
There had to have been more to it, in hindsight and retrospect. There had to have been a reason for Mae to peck Doris on the lips as they sat on a cold, rickety park bench near the bus, using the moonlight and the stars as their early fall nightlights.
Doris’ expression was soft, thoughtful for a minute, when they were done. Then speech returned to her, and she winkled her nose at Doris. “I don’t believe you kissed me in a freakin’ parking lot.”
Doris gestured helplessly, her hand weaving in the middle of the air. “I was looking for a moment. The moon’s out, the starts are shining, my bosoms are heaving…”
“Jimmy’s pissing on that tree over there.”
And so he was. “Just pretend I’m not here,” he said. “Uh. Congrats, by the way.” He then tried to make himself inconspicuous as he snuck back onto the bus.
Once they were alone, Mae tried to defend herself. “I didn’t have a better plan!” Mae said. “You looked cute, so I kissed ya. Don’t make a federal case out of me not making it romantic enough!”
Her hand was large and dry when it cupped Mae by her curly head and kissed her back – hard and true, with the moon sparkling, making even experienced Mae feel a little bit misty.
“There. We’re even. Now help me up, we got a championship to win!”