You're Going to Lose That Girl

"While I'm sure it was embarrassing for you, it made Jen's day. She's mentioned the body cam video several times over the last two days," June replied. "I know what you mean, however. Sometimes I have trouble resisting the urge to take my clothes off in public, especially with a police officer nearby."

"I'd pay good money to see that video," Hick quipped, causing June to blush a bright red.

At that moment, Jen Stanford announced the buffet dinner was ready. Hick was guided to the front of the line by Amanda. He spent the next two hours enjoying the catered meal and responding to questions directed his way.

Rachel returned home after work the next afternoon to dress for practice and get her softball equipment when her mother walked into her room.

"I met your dumpy, foul-smelling associate last night at Jen's," June began.

"I have to hurry or I'll be late for the first practice. If I am, Aunt Jen will probably pull my license, so make your point, Mother," Rachel insisted as she pulled her glove from her closet.

"My point would be that he seemed quite nice. He's obviously educated, good looking, personable and quite good looking."

"Maybe he's into cougars. At least that would be better than exposing himself in public. It's not even considered perverted these days," Rachel retorted.

"He was very complimentary, but your father seriously frowns on any cougaring by his wife, to say the least. Hick knew who I was before we were introduced. He told me I strongly resembled you, and that you are quite beautiful."

June couldn't conceal her smile when her daughter suddenly turned her complete attention to her. "He said that? What kind of guy makes a lame statement like that to a woman old enough to be his mother?"

"I would guess the kind of guy who finds the daughter quite attractive," June replied. "You need to realize that not every man is like the jerk who hurt you so badly in the Marines. Try being a little less prickly. You could miss out on a great guy by blaming every man for the actions of one."

"Mom, think about it. His name is Hick! He drives some old truck. He's got no ambition. He's some kind of redneck asshole who runs around stripping his clothes off in front of people," Rachel stated. "You should be advising me to avoid men like him, not encouraging me to have his babies."

"You know very well I 'm not encouraging you to get pregnant by him, or even have sex with him," June retorted immediately. "I just want you to stop assuming all men are bastards because you had a bad experience."

"I do appreciate your concern, Mom, but I'm a grown-ass woman, a veteran. I'll make my own decisions. Of course I want a family of my own some day, but it'll have to be with someone I trust totally. I haven't met anyone who even comes close, and that certainly holds true for that damn hick, Hick."

Hick was at the ball field a little early and introduced himself to any players or parents who had not met him the previous evening. The girls were just taking the practice field when Rachel came striding up to him as the girls turned their attention to the impending clash.

"I'll thank you to stop talking to my 'beautiful' mother and any other relatives I have. You and I are not friends, and we will never be friends. Let that sink into your rural 'aw shucks' persona," Rachel demanded as Hick simply waited for her to end her tirade.

"I was thinking one of us could work with some girls on ground balls while the other hit some fungos to the outfielders," Hick replied calmly. "Which would you prefer?"

"Fungos?" repeated a still irate Rachel. "What the fuck is a fungo?"

"Coach Bailey just swore!" exclaimed a girl Hick now knew to be Beth.

"I'm so sorry!" apologized Rachel to all the girls listening. "I shouldn't have said that. I'll be more careful from now on."

"A fungo is a soft fly ball that you hit to the players. You toss the ball in the air and hit it up so it's a fly ball, not a line drive or anything hard. It's great practice for the girls to learn to judge flies."

"Oh, okay. I think I'll do the groundballs, if you don't mind," Rachel replied somewhat contritely. "I'm pretty sure I can do that right."

Hick was pleasantly surprised at how well most of the girls played on defense. The opposite was true when he held batting practice. He had played a lot of baseball, so throwing underhand was not a totally new concept. He put some speed on the pitches he threw to the girls. Many backed away while very few actually swung at the ball.

"Amanda, this is a fast pitch league, isn't it? Am I throwing harder than the pitchers you are up against in a game?" he asked.

"Maybe a little harder, but we never get many hits in a game. I guess we aren't very good batters," was her response.

Hick changed his strategy with Amanda's admission. He had the girls take a couple of practice swings so he could judge where the bat would cross the plate. Then he would tell the batter to take a practice swing as he pitched the ball. On his second pitch, Amanda hit a shot back up the middle.

"Did you see that?" the girl marveled. "I actually hit a fast pitch! It didn't sting at all." It took four more tries before she managed to connect again. This time, the ball sailed just inside the right field line. She was smiling from ear to ear as she handed the bat to a girl waiting her turn.

Some girls hit the ball better than others, but all of the girls made contact a few times as Hick pitched to them. "I want all of you be swinging when you bat. Start swinging sooner if the pitcher is throwing faster and a little later is she is throwing slower. I don't want batters striking out with the bat on their shoulder. We're playing to have fun and it's fun to hit the ball now and then, isn't it?"

"You won't be upset if we strike out on a bad pitch?" asked the girl Hick now knew to be Vanessa.

"The way I see it, this fast pitch softball is tougher than baseball because the pitcher is so close," Hick answered. "By the time the batter decides if the pitch is going to be over the plate, it's too late to swing. I say, start swinging as the pitcher releases the ball. Keep your eyes open and watch the ball, but don't worry if you miss it. We'll just keep practicing and get better."

When Hick worked with the girls who wanted to pitch, he had to conceal his disappointment. None of them were putting any velocity on the ball. The opposing team would be having a field day when batting.

At the end of practice, Hick made certain the players were aware of the next practice and the date and time of the first game. Then he asked the team for some help.

"I think we have the makings of a decent team, but all of you must know our pitching is a little weak. I'll be looking around for a mentor who can help out in that area. If any of your parents or friends have any ideas, pass them on to me. Thanks for coming, kids, and we'll see you Tuesday."

Rachel hung back as the girls gathered their equipment and headed for the parking area. She had been more than a little surprised at Hick's enthusiasm and attitude with the girls. He had been very encouraging, even when he pointed out mistakes. His smile and demeanor caused the girls to listen to his suggestions and do their best to get them right.

"I mentioned that I played volleyball at State," Rachel began. "One of my teammate's rooms with our school's best softball pitcher. Would you like me to ask her if she could come to practice and give the girls some pointers?"

"That would be great!" Hick enthused. "That's our weakest area. Anything would be an improvement."

As he spoke, Hick found himself staring at Rachel's face. He couldn't remember ever seeing a more beautiful woman.

"Do I have a bug on my face or something?" Rachel asked as Hick's scrutiny caused her concern.

"No, I was just lost in thought," asked Hick asked as he realized he was creeping out the lovely woman. "Thanks for working with me today. I was worried you'd spend the time telling the girls to avoid me and my monkey."

"We both know Aunt Jen shanghaied us into coaching Amanda's team," Rachel answered honestly. "If she suspected you were some kind of pervert or child molester, you'd be in jail, not coaching teenage girls.

"That still doesn't mean we'll be friends," she added. "I want to keep this about softball, so don't get any ideas."

"I understand," Hick replied as he hid his disappointment. "We'll work with the girls and that's it."

"That includes sweet talking Mom," Rachel. "Just stay away from my entire family, please. If you can manage that, we'll get along fine."

Hick promised himself he'd do exactly that, but fate had different plans. Saturday, he was eating at a local family diner where he had become a bit of a regular. He stopped into almost every day and the staff and regular customers had come to accept him. They answered his questions about the area and volunteered all kinds of unsolicited information.

He had barely ordered his lunch when a guy who appeared to be just out of high school sat down at the counter two seats away. He had just picked up a menu when three young men sitting at a nearby booth started in on him.

"Hey, Trey! How's your rug munching sister doing these days?" called a big guy nearest the counter. He spoke loudly enough for everyone in the diner to hear.

"What a shame a nice piece of ass like that swings the other way," a companion added. "Maybe I could fuck her into being straight. What do you think?"

"I think you assholes are full of shit. She's not gay and she sure as hell won't have anything to do with pathetic losers like you," the young man replied hotly.

The biggest man at the booth stood up, and his two companions quickly followed suit. Hick admired the young man as he stood to face the three larger men without any hesitation.

"You sure talk a lot of shit," the big guy stated as he stepped closer. "You know we're going to have to kick your ass now. Your mouth is writing checks your ass won't be able to cash."

Hick purposely moved off the stool and meaningfully placed himself next to the young man. "I'll loan him whatever he needs to cash that check. You pricks talk tough, but I don't think you have the balls to back it up. We're standing here right now. Start the ball rolling or get the hell out of here before we start the dance. You're ruining my meal."

The three men had been stunned when Hick stepped next to Trey and proceeded to make his threat. He stood there in jeans and a tight tee shirt. Something about his solid build and his complete confidence caused them to reconsider the situation. The three men looked at each other and then back at Hick.

"Are you dumb bastards hard of hearing?" Hick demanded as he picked up on the uncertainty of the would-be toughs. "Let's get this started or get your asses out the door. The choice is yours but make it right goddamn now."

"Come on guys," the apparent leader stated. "By the time we got done kicking their asses, the cops would be here and arrest us for doing a public service."

His two lackeys nodded in agreement and followed him out the door. As soon as the door closed, Hick heard several patrons exhale loudly. Then the place broke into nervous chatter.

"Jesus, Boy! That took some nerve," an older man Hick had learned was a local plumber declared. "You sure took it to them. They didn't want any part of what you were selling."

"Trey, you showed a lot of guts when you called the three of them out. How did you know your friend was going to back you up?" another man asked.

Hick noticed that the man he now knew as Trey was flushed and sweat was dripping off his brow. "I don't even know who he is. Thanks! Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but how can a man let people say things like that about their sister?"

"You did exactly right," Hick stated calmly. "Men simply don't allow shit like that to go unchallenged."

"Thanks again. I lost my appetite, so I'm out of here, but I appreciate you backing me up," the young man stated as he grabbed Hick's hand and shook it before rushing out the door.

Hick sat back down at the counter as the waitress slid his order in front of him. "It's on the house, Hick. He's a good kid from a good family. You were great."

Hick had only taken a couple of bites when Janice Connors rushed into the diner and quickly scanned the interior. When her eyes fell on Hick calmly eating his meatloaf, she nodded to herself as she took a seat next to him.

"You wouldn't know anything about a fight taking place in here, would you, Hick? You seem to be enjoying Marge's meatloaf without a care in the world. What the hell happened?"

Before Hick could swallow his food, Ben Chasen, the local plumber, quickly began filling her in. "You're too late, Officer. Dan Reynolds and his two toadies started giving young Trey shit about his sister being gay and how they could fuck her back to being straight. Trey took offense, as any man would, and called them on it.

"They got up and strutted toward him like they'd just mop the floor with his ass for having the nerve to take offense at their insults. That was when Hick stepped in and backed the kid right to the damn hilt. He threw it in their faces and challenged them to get started or get the hell out. They decided to leave."

"That's it?" a surprised Janice asked. "No punches were thrown and no one was hurt? They just left?"

"That's pretty much the story, Deputy," answered Delores, the waitress. "I dialed 911 when that Dan Reynolds started on Trey. You sure got here quick."

"But too late, it seems. I was headed over for lunch when the call came in. I saw those three driving away when I parked. I wondered if they were involved," Janice admitted.

"Join me for lunch, Deputy?" Hick asked politely. "The meatloaf is excellent."

Trey was working on dessert Sunday evening when one of his brothers-in-law began his questioning. As was the norm, his two married sisters and their husbands were having Sunday dinner with the family.

"Did I hear through the grapevine that you were involved in a bit of trouble at The Rusty Spoon yesterday?" one of Trey's brothers-in-law asked.

"Nothing happened," Trey replied a little too quickly. He didn't want to have to repeat what Dan Reynolds and his friends had so cruelly announced in a public setting.

"That's not the way I heard it," the brother-in-law persisted. "I heard you and some stranger faced down three local toughs in the dinner. They went out the door with their tails between their legs."

"What happened, Trey?" asked his mother. "Don't try to brush this off as nothing. Tell us about it."

"It wasn't a big deal. Dan Reynolds was in the diner with Lou and Stretch. They started busting my chops so I told them to take a hike."

"What did they say?" his mother asked as the rest of the family listened intently.

"Aw, Mom. I'd rather not repeat it. They said some nasty things about Sis, and I got mad. Nothing happened," responded Trey.

"Son, this is like pulling teeth," his father stated. "Start at the beginning and tell us exactly what was said and what happened."

Trey knew that when his father became involved in a discussion, it was time to tell the entire story. He was a great father but didn't put up with disrespect from anyone. That was where Trey had learned that trait.

"They called Sis a rug muncher as soon as I sat down. They said they'd like to have sex with her to make her straight again. I couldn't let that go."

"Those miserable... What did you say to them?" Trey's oldest sister, Christine, asked.

Trey glanced at Rachel before responding. Tears were trickling down her cheeks. "I told them they were full of shit. Sis would never have anything to do with losers like them.

"They stood up and started for me, so I got up, too. I knew they were probably going to kick my ass, but I didn't care. I'll never let anyone talk about Rachel like that."

"Did they hit you, Trey?" his concerned father asked. "Were you hurt?"

"Ha! They didn't have the nerve. Dan Reynolds told me my mouth was writing checks my body couldn't cash. That was when this guy who was sitting at the counter waiting for his food stood up and moved next to me.

"He told the three of them he'd make sure I had the cash for the check! Then he flat out insisted they grow some balls and start the dance or get the hell out. They didn't know what to think. They stood there looking stupid for a few seconds. He called them dumb bastards and asked if they were hard of hearing. He acted like he wanted them to try something so he could take them down. They practically ran out the door," Trey concluded.

When Trey finished his story, Rachel was in tears and everyone else sat in open mouthed amazement.

"Who was the guy?" the brother-in-law asked. "Do you know him?"

"I never saw the guy before, but some of the other people in the diner seemed to know him. I was so rattled I just thanked him and left," Trey admitted.

"Tell me, Trey. Was he a little over six feet tall with dark hair? Was he a good-looking man, about 26 years old? Did he have a little scar over his left eye?" Trey's mother, June, asked.

"I guess he was near six foot and about that age. I didn't see any scar and I sure didn't check to see how handsome he was," Trey answered. "He was very confident. He looked like a jungle cat all coiled and ready to pounce."

"Mom, you have an idea who this mystery man was, don't you?" June's middle daughter, Candace, asked.

"I think I do. You know how Rachel has to coach girls' softball as community service for three speeding tickets? The young man she's assisting is good looking and appears to be extremely capable and confident. He's also a gentleman who would take offense at the comments of those jackals, much like Trey did."

"Is he like Rachel's boyfriend?" Candace asked.

"No!" Rachel exclaimed through her tears. "He's another loser. His name is Hick, if you can believe that. He drives an old pickup truck. He was arrested for indecent exposure. He is definitely not my boyfriend!"

"He sounds perfect!" Christine exclaimed. "He doesn't have self-esteem issues, has his own transportation, a cool nickname, and according to Mom, is very good looking. When can we meet him?"

"Never!" Rachel replied immediately. "He isn't my boyfriend and never will be."

"I'll invite him to dinner next Sunday so everyone can meet him," June stated with a smile as she ignored Rachel's protests. "He's a very personable, intelligent young man."

"He was willing to mix it up with those idiots to help out Trey and protect Rachel's honor," Christine's husband observed. "He'd fit right in with the family."

"Don't invite him to dinner!" Rachel demanded. "I don't need some loser getting into fights over me and dragging my name in the mud. My life is not a country western song. If you invite him, I won't be here!"

Tuesday found Hick chatting with the girls before practice began. They watched Rachel striding toward Hick and it was obvious to all that she was not a happy camper.

"Uh oh," Amanda remarked as she saw the anger in Rachel's face.

"I told you to stay away from my family! Why is that so hard? Why can't you just leave me alone?" Rachel demanded as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"I haven't seen your mom since that night at Amanda's," a confused Hick replied. "I don't know what you're even talking about."

"You don't remember facing Dan Reynolds and his two idiot friends at The Rusty Spoon Saturday? It wasn't you that offered to kick their asses if they didn't get the hell out of the diner?" Rachel demanded.

"Trey is your brother? Those assholes were talking about you?" a shocked Hick asked before repeating himself. "Trey's your brother?"

Rachel suddenly felt her anger dissipate. Hick hadn't even known Dan Reynolds was referring to her as the rug muncher. He didn't know Trey was her brother. He wasn't trying to insert himself in her life!