Chapter 7

One Hit Tripper

Having expected the morning to be a severely awkward one, the next day Janet opened her bedroom door surprised to see Jack and Vicky sitting on the couch together, engaged in relatively pleasant conversation. Vicky's expression appeared remorseful, and it was clear that some sort of amends had been going on before she spotted them. Jack, on the other hand, nodded slowly, cautiously accepting of whatever it was that Vicky was saying in hushed tones. Suddenly Jack laughed, startling Janet. She turned her head toward Vicky, who had a smile on her face.

This was good, wasn't it?

Slowly Janet entered the room. She felt odd intruding on their little moment, but they were in the common area and she was hungry. The others finally noticed her and Jack got up and turned around.

"Morning, Janet! Sleep okay?"

He was his perfectly normal self. There was no sign of any of the distress he had displayed the night before. What had they said to each other?

"Um...yeah. Phillip's just getting up now. How are you?" She looked from Jack to Vicky and back at Jack again.

"Great! Everything's fine," he put his arm around Vicky who'd walked over to him and expressed her good mornings to Janet.

"That's...great!" Somehow she managed to muddle her horribly confused expression together with a reassuring smile. Vicky gave Jack a kiss on the cheek and excused herself while he walked over to the kitchen area to begin breakfast. Janet followed Vicky with her eyes, then turned back toward Jack. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?" Janet asked nonchalantly as he pulled pans out of cupboards and eggs out of the refrigerator.

"You two. You're acting like nothing happened. Last night you were so..."

"Yeah, but the craziest thing happened, Janet. I woke up early to the sound of Vicky finishing up on the phone, presumably with her father, and she turned to me and she apologized. For everything. It was like a complete one eighty. She never admits when she's wrong." He began mixing his ingredients together in a bowl.

Janet still looked confused as she tried to process the development. She wasn't entirely sure why it felt so strange or why she wasn't immediately elated, but she expressed her support for Jack anyway. "That's great Jack. That's really great. Did it...do you think it worked?"

Jack paused. "What, the plan?" He poured everything into a frying pan.

"Well, yeah, did she mention anything about it?"

"No, not really. Just turned to me and immediately started apologizing. She seemed guilty. Finally, am I right?" The eggs sizzled.

Janet nodded hesitantly.

"But what made it really mean something is that I finally felt listened to, ya know? Respected. That's really all I ever wanted."

"Right. Yeah. Same."

Jack turned the temperature on the stove down. "Hey, Jan, I didn't mean to be insensitive. I know you're still working on things with Phil. But listen, we still have time. In fact, I'm thinking of taking him up on that ball game he mentioned. We could all go together. We'll work something out."

He was right about her feeling bummed that things hadn't developed on her end yet. One thing she hadn't considered when she came up with her brilliant idea was the fact that one half of the group would straighten out their mess before the other. She couldn't keep "fooling around" with Jack – she didn't want to inadvertently create any more issues between him and Vicky.

"Yeah. Something will work itself out," she feigned casual indifference.

"Sure it will," he smiled and lightly tapped her on the nose.

There was a brief silence while Jack finished up his cooking. "So Jack, does this mean Vicky's not going to be bugging you anymore about switching careers?"

"Well, our conversation actually didn't get that far, but – "

Before he could finish, Phillip walked into the room and tossed a baseball at Jack who just barely managed to catch it.

"Hey, hey! Good catch, Jack! You ready to play some ball?"

Jack tossed the ball back to him. "Sure. As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Phillip walked over to Janet and kissed her cheek before noticing her glum expression. "Hey, cheer up, sweetheart. There's no crying in baseball. No, I'm just kidding. That's a line from a movie that hasn't come out yet."

Jack and Janet made puzzled expressions and shrugged.

"I'm really glad you changed your mind, Jack. Not to brag, but I'm looking forward to showing off a bit. I was short stop for my high school's junior varsity team, you know." He mimed catching the ball and throwing it to an imaginary retriever.

"No kidding!" Jack's eyes widened with judgement.

"No kidding." Phillip confirmed.

Janet sighed. Today was going to be a day.

...

What Phillip had described as only a small group of people he'd met back at the restaurant had actually turned out to be the massive family reunion of an overly friendly group of Mormons. Everyone was wearing matching t-shirts with the family name, Rigby, emblazoned on the back in carefully and artfully sewed-on patches of neon pink felt. The cluster of them seemed so exceptionally good – one of them hit a ball so far that they'd elected to retrieve it later – that even Phillip looked slightly intimidated.

"You made it!" called out one man, tall but slightly built, somewhere in his mid-forties, who seemed to recognize Phillip.

"Wouldn't miss it," Phillip exclaimed as he shook the man's hand. "Tad, you've met my wife Janet. These are our friends, Jack and Vicky."

"Jack and Vicky. Good to meet you." He shook their hands a little too vigorously, then patted Jack roughly on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Hey," he stopped, putting on a serious expression and staring directly into Jack's eyes. "This one," he said to nobody in particular, "is a ball player." He laughed and turned to the others. "I can just tell. Follow me over to Careene. We're drawing straws to decide teams."

"My God," Jack muttered under his breath as he fell behind the others and softly rubbed his shoulder. "It's an entire family of Phillips."

Careene, who appeared to be Tad's wife, had dropped the straws in an effort to subdue the minor quarrel of their two youngest children, and Janet offered to take her place after they'd all been introduced. Normally she'd have taken the opportunity to ensure that she and Jack wound up on the same team, but her enthusiasm for their ploy had been squandered and the fact that they did choose the same team, with Phillip and Vicky on the other, was merely coincidental.

Pulling her dark pony tail through the back of a baseball cap she'd brought along, Janet turned toward Jack. "So...you sure about this?" she asked.

"'Course I'm sure. We used to play all the time in the navy. I had a nick name and everything."

"Oh, yeah? What was your nickname?"

"No Hits Tripper," he conceded. Janet's mouth opened in protest, as if to ask if he were serious. "I'm joking, I'm joking." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "They called me One Hit Tripper."

Before Janet could react any further, the group made their way out to the field after their teammate, Kip Rigby, called tails. Janet took second base, while Jack made his way to center-right field.

The game started uneventfully enough, and the first inning came and went with little to show for it. Kip Rigby and his cousin, Brig Rigby, who was also on Jack and Janet's team, proved to be completely inept at the game of baseball, but neither of them seemed to mind much.

"Winning isn't the goal," Kip laughed after their third straight strike-out. "Fun is the goal."

Jack, the last of those fruitless batters, scowled on his way back to the field. Janet made a face of understanding pity, but Jack assured her. "One hit. That's all you need."

But Janet had little energy to give to caring much how the game went. Her mind was still running, worried about her next move with Phillip. With both of them on opposite teams, she hadn't said a word to him, but she did keep her eye on him the entire time, unaware of what she was even expecting to happen. He seemed completely oblivious, and something about that annoyed her.

"Come on, team!" Kip called as they made their way to the bases. "Let's hustle!"

Almost as soon as they'd taken their positions, Miriam Rigby knocked a ball so far outfield that Jack was left shuffling for what seemed like ages. He finally managed to catch up to the ball by the time Miriam rounded second, and he threw it as fast as he could toward Janet, who tagged her out just in the nick of time. The team cheered at their first victory, and the moment was enough to lift Janet's spirits a bit before she noticed Phillip not paying any attention to the game. Instead, he was completely engaged in conversation with both Vicky and two other team members: Brick and Emmaline Rigby. She knew by his stance and body language that he was bragging about something.

Janet felt herself growing tense at his nonchalance - irrational, even - but she didn't care. When it was time for the teams to switch, she listened in on the tail end of their conversation.

"...which is why New York is such a great opportunity for me right now," Phillip continued as he grabbed a worn mitt. "Janet doesn't know about the little apartment I have set up on the east side, but I think when I surprise her on a trip out there she might change her mind."

She felt her blood pressure immediately rising. Apartment? When? With what money? Behind her back? Fuming, the rage piqued her competitive nature. She intentionally knocked into Phillip as she reached for the bat.

"Whoa there, little miss. It's not quite your turn yet," Kip said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the list and clipboard he held in his hands.

"It is now," she barked, positioning herself with the bat.

In a just world, she'd have knocked the ball out of the park, but she was so angry that she had trouble focusing, and she missed all three pitches (although she did manage one powerful foul ball that broke the window of a nearby storage shed). She wanted to scream, but instead she threw down the bat. Everyone stared at her, stunned, but she ignored them all as she wallowed over to the sidelines

"Is...is everything okay, Janet?" Jack asked hesitantly as he walked up to her. She had crouched on the ground, her hands in her face.

"This game sucks," she spoke through her hands. "Our team sucks. You suck."

"I su - Janet, I told you. One hit. I've got this." When she didn't respond, he continued with rising concern in his voice, "But I have a feeling this isn't about the game."

"I don't want to talk about it," her head was still in her hands, but then she finally lifted it to look up at him. "And besides, what do you care? Everything's fine between you and Vicky now. What do you have to worry about?"

Before he had a chance to respond, they were called back to the field. The other team had gotten three of their team members out yet again. Now he was angry too, which didn't bode well for the team's chances. Inning after inning their team struck out while the other team managed multiple home runs. What juice was Tad Rigby on? Jack mused. He grew more anxious when he continued failing to hit the ball, but much of his anger was still focused on Janet. And Vicky, for that matter. Janet was right, she never actually did offer to let him keep his restaurant despite her apology. But Janet had a lot of nerve suggesting everything was now fine for him. How could she say that? How could she imply that Janet's problem wasn't his problem too?

He didn't want her to go.

"Swing."

The voice was high pitched and full of irritating mockery. Jack looked around as he stepped up to the plate for his turn, but he couldn't find the source of the obnoxious sound. He shrugged it off and got into position. The bases were loaded – their team hand finally been able to gain some momentum – and he was particularly worried about destroying their sudden lucky streak. He sighed and focused his attention on the pitcher, Glade Rigby.

"Swing, batta."

There it was again! The voice cracked, but it was disturbingly assertive. Jack put the bat down, and the others began to look around as well.

"Swing, batta batta batta, swing."

He did not turn around, but his eyes widened in realization. Only one type of human being could be both prepubescently awkward while still maintaining the cutting edge that could bring the strongest man down to his knees: a fourteen-year-old.

Jack finally turned and narrowed his eyes on the boy who had taunted him with the kayak on the lake.

"What's the matter, old man? You can't hear good?"

He clenched his fists over the bat and turned back to the pitcher, his eyes now focused with eagle-like precision; this kid wasn't going to get the better of him this time. He nodded toward Glade to give him the go-ahead. He threw the ball.

Nothing.

"That's okay, Jack, keep your head up, pal," shouted Kip. "Focus!"

Glade threw the ball again. Another miss.

"Nice swing, Nancy. I felt that breeze all the way over here!" yelled the kid.

Jack tensed but he did not let his focus leave Glade. Various moments flashed before his eyes – the party where Vicky's father had revealed his plans for him, the moment Janet told him she may be moving clear across the country, Vicky's revelation that she'd intended to use this trip to talk him into giving up his restaurant. And for that matter, why had she apologized so suddenly?

Glade lifted his leg as he wound up for the pitch, and Jack took in a deep breath. In the distance, he heard the teenager's voice in muffled, slow-motion, "Youuuu couulldddn'ttt hittttt aaa wallll ifff youuu walllkkkeedd innttoo onneeee, ollddd mannnnn."

Crack. Jack felt the ball meet the bat, and he was so startled by the force of the contact that he nearly fell over. It flew above the infield and hastily made its way toward the outfield, soaring over the heads of the players. It moved directly toward the left side of the field in which Phillip stood waiting...directly toward Phillip's general position...toward Phillip's person...Phillip's face.

Stunned sighs grew around Jack – people covered their mouths in shock and Jack didn't dare move – nor did anyone else. Phillip now lay flat on the ground and Jack was positive for a moment that he was dead. Silence engulfed him and he thought he was going to be sick. But before anyone could make a move, Phillip's right arm shot up as if to indicate that he was okay – and in that hand rested the ball. Phillip, though rendered partially incapacitated, had won the other team the game.

As Janet and a couple others (including Vicky, who knew first aid from her job as a stewardess) made their way over toward Phillip to see if he was alright, Jack fell back against the fence. He looked back to see the reaction from the taunting teenager, but he was gone.

One hit Tripper.

...

As an olive branch for their guilt toward the fate of Phillip, and because they were going to anyway, the Rigbys invited the two couples to dinner at the large recreation hall they had rented for their week of family fun. It was large – used by a kid's summer camp during the summer months – but the Rigbys still managed to fill up a large section of the wooden cabin, which had been painted in a variety of bright colors coating the wooden beams that made up the high, spacious ceiling.

It essentially sat right on the lake, and Janet sat staring out of the window at the sparkling water as it reflected rays of sunlight. Vicky had been tending to Phillip, and Janet had let her, still unwilling to talk to the man. After she had checked and ensured that he was alright, she'd stormed away again and hadn't talked to her husband since. Assuming she was merely having one of her moments, Phillip, as always, had brushed it aside.

Afraid to confront Phillip any further after profusely apologizing and being waved off by Vicky, who'd become angry at his carelessness, Jack also kept to himself during and after dinner. Weird thoughts kept running through his mind, and he wasn't sure what to do with them. Both he and Janet looked over at Phillip and Vicky and scowled. How could they be so oblivious to the pain they were causing the others?

Janet ran her hands through her hair in faint exasperation and shot up off of the wooden bench she'd been sitting on. She made her way to the exit and walked toward the lake – slowly at first, then faster until she finally reached the edge of the bank. She gazed upon it for a moment, deep in thought, until she felt a presence behind her. Without turning around, she knew who it was.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she looked down at her own gently clasped hands.

"It's okay," Jack replied. "I didn't turn out to be much help, did I?"

"It's not your fault," she shrugged and feigned a smile as she turned toward him. She paused a moment. "I overheard Phillip talking. He already bought an apartment in New York. I had no idea."

"Oh, Janet, I – "he cut himself off as he processed her words. "Does this mean..."

"It means," she breathed in heavily, then exhaled, "that Phillip has a very angry wife."

He nodded, unsure of what that meant for her future plans. "I'm sorry this isn't working. I wish I could've done more. There's gotta be something else we can do..."

"I don't know, Jack, but I'm so mad I could just...I could just...scream."

"Oh, me too," he said, looking into her eyes with concern.

"You? Why you?"

"I don't know, Janet I...I guess something just feels off. Vicky apologized but she never mentioned the restaurant and she was real quick to get mad at me after – "

"After you nearly killed my husband?"

"...Yeah. That."

There was a brief pause but then Jack's eyes began to glint mischievously. Suddenly, what sounded like a low growl grew into a big, loud yell. Janet raised her eyes, shocked but amused, and quickly put her hand over Jack's mouth. Stifling a small laugh, she cried, "Jack, what are you doing?"

"I'm screaming," he replied through her hand.

She pulled her hand away. "Everybody's going to think you're crazy!"

"I am. Here, I have a better idea." He began to run backwards toward the dock of the lake.

"Jack..."

"If I scream under water, no one can hear me." And he jumped off the dock without a second glance.

"Jack!" she ran over to the dock and looked over the edge. A few bubbles rolled to the surface, indicating that Jack was, in fact, screaming. He slowly made his way back to the surface.

"Come on. Your turn."

"Uh uh. I don't think so," she shook her head, but she was feeling a sense of fun and lightheartedness for the first time in days.

"Alright, I tried asking politely." Suddenly his hand was on her arm after he reached up toward her, and before she knew it they were both underwater. She bobbed to the surface and Jack followed, laughing. She smacked him on the arm, irate.

"Jack Tripper, I'm going to kill you!"

"Okay, but before you do...try it. Just scream. Let it all out."

"You want me to let it all out? Fine. JACK TRIPPER I'M GOING TO KILL YOU," she raised her voice decibels higher with the last sentence.

But she couldn't stay angry for long. Jack glanced at her, and the laughter he was holding back caused her to smirk as well. "Well. Maybe I'll only kill you a little, anyway."

Before they knew it, they were both laughing. Janet suddenly noticed that his hand was still on her arm - Jack, after all, wasn't the best swimmer, and she noted that it was simply his way of assuring himself that he wouldn't drown. They floated together for a moment as their laughs and giggles slowly died down and left them in silence.

At that moment, Phillip, Vicky, and a few others made their way out of the large dining hall and onto the surrounding porch. Among them was Tad, and they were close enough that he spotted and waved at Jack and Janet eagerly, to which they awkwardly waved in reply. After a moment, Janet looked back at Jack. He couldn't read her but she eyed him for what felt like a long time. Her expression grew serious as she looked at him deep in thought while she searched his eyes. He didn't dare say a word, nor did he dare move.

Before he could even gather what was happening, Janet grabbed Jack passionately, pulled him toward her and pressed her lips against his. Stunned, Jack responded welcomingly, playfully tugging at her hair as he gently kissed her back. He was flooded with an array of emotion and memories – it had been so long since he kissed Janet, he'd nearly forgotten the effect it had on him. His legs grew wobbly making it harder to stay afloat, and he grabbed onto her even more tightly. It was exactly as he remembered: the gentle pace of her breath, the soft movement of her lips, and the way her skin felt pressed against his.

He was startled at how much he was enjoying this and guilt began to pour in. He opened one eye to glance over at the others, but no one else had seemed to notice. Instead they were laughing at a joke that Joela Rigby had told and began to make their way around the wrap around porch so that they were no longer in view. Finally, although it felt much too soon, Janet managed to pull away.

She spoke without missing a beat, completely unphased and blinking away the water in her eyes. "Well? Do you think they noticed?"

Ah, so this was just part of her plan. Another last-ditch effort at enraging her husband that had all been for naught.

But was it?

Jack finally spoke; his voice was raspy and he was still shaken. "No. They left."

It was her turn to dip under the water and scream. He saw the bubbles float to the surface and gently lifted her back up out of the water.

"Janet. Hey, Janet, come here," he pulled her into a soft embrace as the tears began to fall from her eyes. It suddenly began to hit him that the woman he held in his arms was so desperate to be noticed, to be loved and respected, that she completely broke character to prove a point to the one person she longed to listen. In an attempt at second best, he held her close and she cried softly into his neck.

"This is all so stupid, Jack. I've been so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Janet," he whispered softly into her hair. "You're not stupid."

"This isn't healthy. I don't know what I've been thinking."

He didn't reply. He knew she was right. It was their common tendency to try and find any possible way they could to solve a problem that didn't involve actually sitting down and having a conversation. Wasn't that the entire reason that they –

Janet pulled out of his embrace before he could finish the thought and she wrung out her hair as she made her way to the shore. He followed her in slow motion, the water weighing down the clothes that now clung to his body. She stopped when she reached the grass, and he stopped, too, just a few feet behind her, not sure what to say or do next. Her eyes lingered on the porch where the others formerly stood and she raised her arms and let them slosh back against her sides in defeat.

A thought occurred to him in that moment and his eyes widened in realization. "Janet. The kid. The taunting teenager. Was that you again?"

She turned back to look at Jack and her demeanor was suddenly defiant. Ignoring him, she said "I feel like getting lost, don't you?"