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Greta was just sending off an email to Jo as a part of their weekly check in when she saw a new message in her inbox. It was from someone named Anna Chen, and the subject line read “Rockford Peaches”. Greta smiled, assuming it was a young baseball player excited by the idea of a women’s league so long ago. She clicked on the message and started to read, only to stop abruptly after the first sentence.
Dear Miss Gill,
It may seem weird that I’m reaching out to you like this, but you played on the Rockford Peaches with my great grandmother, Carson Shaw.
Greta was reeling in her chair, frantically gripping the edge of her desk. She couldn’t breathe, and for a second she wondered if seeing that name after nearly 70 years was going to be the thing that finally killed her at the age of 95.
Before she could think too hard about that, though, she was picking up her phone and dialing Jo’s number. “Joey?” she said as soon as she heard the phone pick up.
“Just me, Sugar,” Maybelle’s voice answered. “Joey’s taking a nap right now. What’s going on? You don’t usually call without scheduling it first.”
“Hi Maybelle, yes, I know I don’t normally call like this but it was call you two or probably pass out from shock, so here I am,” Greta explained.
“What’s wrong?” Maybelle asked, her voice now full of alarm.
“I got an email, with Rockford Peaches as the subject line and at first I thought it was just a girl who thought the team was cool or wanted to interview me for a school project but it wasn’t.”
“Who was the email from, Greta?”
“Carson’s great granddaughter.”
“What the fuck?” Maybelle gasped. “Did you know Carson had a great granddaughter?”
“Of course not! I haven’t talked to Carson in almost 70 years. I didn’t even know if she was still alive.” Cold dread ran through her at the thought. “Come to think of it, I still don’t know if she is. I didn’t read anything past the girl telling me who she was. Maybelle what if she’s gone?”
“Well,” Maybelle said gently, “you’re not going to find out unless you finish reading the email.”
“You’re right, I just need to read it.”
“Would you like me to stay on the phone with you while you do?”
Greta would always appreciate Maybelle’s willingness to be there for whatever she needed. “Please.”
“Alright, I’ll be right here.”
Greta read on.
I was talking to her the other day, and we fell onto the topic of past heartbreaks. Up until this point I wasn’t aware Grammy had ever been heartbroken, as all family stories pointed to her and my great grandfather being each other’s first and last loves. You can imagine my surprise when she opened up to me about the relationship you two had when she played for the Peaches.
“She’s alive,” Greta breathed through the phone. “She’s alive and she told her great granddaughter about me and her.”
“Holy moly. What else does it say?”
“I haven’t finished reading yet,” Greta replied, refocusing on the screen in front of her.
I know you two haven’t been in contact since that first season, but believe me when I say Grammy had her reasons, and it’s clear to me that she still thinks of you often. I think it would be good for you two to talk to each other again. I didn’t tell her I was contacting you, and I won’t, unless you give me permission. I know the jist of her side of the story, but I don’t know yours, so I’ll leave that decision up to you.
Sincerely,
Anna Chen
“Okay, I read it all.”
“And?”
“She wants to put me and Carson back in contact with each other.”
“Oh my!” Maybelle exclaimed. “This is huge! Do you want me to go wake Jo up?”
“That’s alright, let her sleep. Just tell her to call me when she wakes up. How do I even respond to this email?”
“Well, do you want to talk to Carson again?”
“More than anything,” Greta answered immediately, finally admitting out loud the desire that had plagued her for the better part of 70 years.
“Then let the girl set you gals up again. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I don’t want to think about the worst case scenario anymore,” Greta admitted. “I’m going to tell her that I want to talk to Carson.”
“Good. Go write that email, I’ll have Jo call you when she wakes up.”
“Thanks May, you’re my favorite.” As she hung up the phone, Greta felt giddy with excitement for the first time in decades. Carson. She was going to talk to Carson. Carson still thought about her. Carson had come out to her great granddaughter.
She started drafting her reply to Anna immediately.
Dear Anna,
If I can imagine your surprise upon learning about my relationship with Carson, then surely you can imagine my surprise when I received your email. It’s true, your Grammy and I did have a romantic relationship while she was on the team, and I was heartbroken when she didn’t return my letters or come back for the second season of the League.
I would love to talk to Carson again, but only if that’s what she wants.
Your Friend,
Greta Gill
She sent the email as soon as she’d finished writing it, determined not to let fear rule her actions at this point in her life. Only a few minutes had passed after she sent the message when her phone rang. She picked up immediately. “Hello?”
“It’s me, Bird,” Jo’s voice answered. “Sorry I missed your call, I really needed that nap.”
“That’s alright Joey. Did May tell you why I called?”
“She sure did. Shaw’s great granddaughter? That had to have been a shock.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Greta chuckled. “I actually just finished writing her back; I told her that I wanted to talk to Carson if Carson wanted to talk to me.”
“I’m proud of you Greta,” Jo said.
“I’m proud of myself too. It feels so weird talking about her again after all this time.”
“But you’ve thought of her this whole time, haven’t you?” Jo asked without any judgment in her tone.
“Of course I have. I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved her,” Greta admitted without shame.
“I know, I just wasn’t sure you’d admit it.”
It took a couple more back and forth emails with Anna before they set up a time when Carson would call Greta, but hell, she’d waited 69 fucking years, she could handle a couple more days. Carson was due to call at 11:30 Friday morning.
As soon as Greta woke up on Friday, she checked her email to make sure nothing had changed, but all she had was a message from Jo and Maybelle, telling her how much they loved her and how she’d better call them as soon as she got off the phone with Carson. She smiled, relishing in the fact that the three of them had stayed so close after everything.
The last hour of the wait was agonizing. Greta found herself checking the clock every few minutes, watching as the hands slowly ticked by. Finally, at exactly 11:30, the phone rang. Greta answered immediately.
“Hello?” Her voice was soft, fear starting to creep back into her mind.
“Greta?” And oh, maybe it had been seven decades but she’d recognize that voice anytime, anywhere.
“Carson,” she responded. “Hi.”
“It’s really you. I can’t believe it.”
“Well you’d better believe it, Shaw, because it’s me.”
“God, I don’t even know where to start.”
Greta chuckled. “How about you start with telling me how the hell you ended up telling your great granddaughter about us.”
So Greta listened as Carson told her about the album, and the song, and how it reminded her so much of that conversation in the kitchen, the one that, at the time, Greta didn’t really think would become their reality. Carson told her how she had cried, and how Anna had asked about the tears, and how that had spiraled into coming out to the girl.
“And I decided to tell her because she told me a few months back that she’s bisexual, she likes men and women,” Carson explained.
“I know what bisexual means,” Greta said. “Maybelle’s bisexual.”
“Maybelle Fox?” Carson asked, her voice full of surprise.
“Oh yeah, her and Jo have been together since our third season with the Peaches. She’s said for ages that she swings both ways, but she didn’t find the word until a few years ago,” Greta explained.
“Wow, I missed so much. I never should have walked away from the team,” She paused for a second, and Greta wondered if they were thinking the same thing. “I never should have walked away from you.”
“You can’t change that now,” Greta conceded. “But maybe you can tell me why.”
“I left to protect you. The day we said goodbye on the porch, Charlie saw us. He gave me two choices: stay with him or he’d turn you in. It was a pretty easy choice to make, even if I hated it.”
“Carson,” Greta gasped. “I had no idea.”
“I know. I didn’t want you to know. It was easier to make you hate me than it was to try to explain it to you back then.”
“I never hated you, Shaw. I especially don’t hate you now that I know what happened. I just feel bad that you did all that for little old me.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Carson said. “I mean, sure, Charlie held it over me for a little bit, and I thought about you all the time, but we had a daughter, then a granddaughter, and then the great grandkids. I don’t think I’d trade them for the world, but I do wish we could have kept in touch. I was just so scared that Charlie would find out and turn you in. Nothing was worth that risk for me.”
Greta was crying now, at the thought of how much Carson had sacrificed in order to protect her for so long. “I love you so much Carson, even after all this time.”
“I love you too, Greta. I’ve loved you this whole time. I’ve let myself think about you more since Charlie died. It doesn’t feel as much like a betrayal to him when he’s not here to guilt me.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, I know you loved him too. When did he pass?”
“2003,” Carson replied. “So it’s been a while. Greta, you have to know I never loved him the way I loved you.”
“That’s sweet, Carson, but losing him still couldn’t have been easy,” Greta insisted.
“Maybe not easy, but it didn’t hurt as much as it probably should have. I felt worse for the rest of the family than I did for myself.”
This wasn’t really a topic Greta wanted to spend a whole lot of time on, so she changed the subject. “I’d love to hear about the rest of your family.”
So Carson told her about her daughter, Charlotte May, and stuttered when Greta asked how she picked her middle name. “I wanted my little girl to grow up knowing to take people as they are, and I figured naming her partially after Maybelle just made sense. I’m sure you can guess where Charlotte came from.”
“Is it okay if I tell Maybelle?” Greta asked. “She’d be touched.”
“Of course you can tell her. I take it she and Jo know you’re talking to me?”
“They do. I actually called them as soon as I read your name in Anna’s first email.”
“I had no idea she was doing that, by the way,” Carson said. “And I’m glad I didn’t, because I probably would have done something stupid, like tell her not to.”
Greta chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think she would have listened to you.”
“Oh she most certainly wouldn’t have,” Carson confirmed. “She’s a rebellious little thing. You’d love her.”
“I’d love to meet her,” Greta said. “And I’d love to see you in person as well.”
“I’d like that too. Where are you living these days?”
“I’m in New York. Are you still in Idaho?”
“I am,” Carson sighed. “I never did manage to make it out of Lake Valley.”
“Would you and Anna be able to fly out here to visit me? You’d get to see Jo and Maybelle too, they’re just a few miles from me.”
“I’d have to talk to Anna’s parents, but we could probably do that.”
They talked for another hour after that, neither of them willing to hang up the phone after so many years apart. Eventually, they agreed to talk more next week and to start exchanging emails.
“I love you Carson, talk to you soon,” Greta said.
“I love you too, Greta, have a good day.”
When Carson hung up the phone, Greta just sat there trying to process everything they’d just said to each other. After that, she opened her computer and looked up that song that Carson had mentioned. As she listened, it became obvious why Carson had thought of her: every word described exactly how she felt about her relationship with Carson, even after all these years. But that long phase of her life was finally over. She had Carson back.