It radiated heat, even though a strong breeze blew from the vanishing storm. The ball park was one big bowl of heat. The wide cement steps which served as bleachers had absorbed the sun all day, and now, after the sun had sunk behind the western mountains, they warmed the seats of the motley crowd. The baseball diamonds, four in all, were harder than cement packed ground, rolled smooth by the huge roller sleeping quietly between two of the fields, waiting for it's morning stroll.
Tempers were short in the dugout, and shorter on the bleachers. Dads yelled at their sons on the teams. Mothers chased run away children, babies squalled.
The Pitcher seemed more intent on throwing the ball at the players than pitching to them. He wound up like he'd watched Sunday afternoon ball with his dad too often, and let fly. Missing the batter by millimeters, the ball bounced off the catchers mitt, flew up into the air, and hit the fence separating us from the diamond. Russell, Johnathan, and Ryan jumped up and raced to the fence, wishing they could climb over and join in the free-for-all that had ensued on the field. I rolled my eyes and turned to my sister-in-law, Tammy. "Do you think Phillip would feel bad if we didn't stay for the whole game?"
"He won't even know we left," Tammy sighed tiredly. "The boys might not want to leave, but I'm worn out. Let's go."
Russell, Johnathan, and Ryan weren't that upset about leaving, there were movies at home they still wanted to watch, so we gathered up our stuff, herded the kids to my van, and drove back to Tammy's.
We were spending a week with Tammy and Phillip down in Thatcher, getting out of the heat of the Valley, although it was still scorching even here. But Tammy's new house had good air conditioning, the monsoon had started pumping some moisture up from Mexico, creating evening thunderstorms, and anything was better than spending a lonely, hot summer at home. Plus, aside from the cost of the gas to get here, this vacation was free, and that was the only kind of vacation I could afford. School teachers don't earn a lot of money, especially during summer holidays.
Tammy's five children were close to the same age as my five, and they all got along well, especially Russell and Johnathan and Ryan. They loved roaming through the fields surrounding Tammy's house, chasing jack-rabbits and squirrels. I loved visiting with Tammy, doing crafts with our girls, watching movies, and talking. Tammy might be my sister-in-law, but we'd been friends for so long it felt like we'd known each other forever.
“You ought to tell Phillip you don't like going to his ball games,” I advised Tammy that evening, thinking it was my job to help her stand up for herself. I'd been single for three years by that time, and was getting pretty good at looking out for myself and enjoying my independence. It seemed to me that Tammy pretty much let Phillip run all over her, telling her what to do, how to do it, and making all the decisions for their family. I'd had my own run-ins with Phillip, since he was my little brother, just two years younger than me, and I'd often thought he was pretty selfish and demanding. So I felt justified helping Tammy learn how to take care of herself.
“I could stay home,” Tammy agreed hesitantly, looking at me out of the corners of her eyes. I could tell she didn't want to hurt my feelings, she was such a sweetheart, so she was weighing her words carefully. “It's just that I've discovered when I make Phillip happy, I'm happier myself. I might not enjoy doing all the stuff he likes doing, but I do like it when he's in a good mood. And when he's happy, he tries harder to do the stuff that I want. It's kind of like me scratching his back, and him scratching mine.”
I looked at Tammy skeptically, but I could tell she really was serious about what she was saying. She really did like making Phillip happy. “Well, you need to think about yourself once in awhile,” I suggested lamely, and Tammy grinned patiently.
I let the subject drop, then, but it played over in the back of my mind the rest of our visit. Tammy was happier than most other women I knew, not because she had the perfect house, the perfect family, or lots of money. She was happy because she was doing what she wanted to do, and she was at peace with herself because she knew she was also doing what she was supposed to do. I suppose that's what happiness is. Wanting to do what you are supposed to do.
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