Laura Begin's Training

Author's Note: Hello Y'all. Some of you have been begging me to return to this story for months. Wish granted – finally! You must forgive me for the lengthy hiatus. Miss Candy passed away this past January. She was 13 years old here in the real world - three years older than the life expectancy for her breed - and I know that she'd still be here if her old body would have allowed it. Following her passing, I tried to return to this story and found that every time I thought of the much younger version of her that still lives within this story, I would immediately dissolve into a blubbering mess. Well, enough is enough!

She was a damn fine friend and her life deserves to be celebrated, more than the loss of her is mourned. Although, if she were still here, she would probably think I've committed heresy. I've taken in a cat! One who needs a good home and some extra special care. Shall we rise?

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Rabb Residence

San Diego California

1427 HRS

A red-headed boy named Liam Harrell who has too many freckles to count tosses a rubber racquetball in the direction of his best friend. Laura O'Hara-Rabb swings her plastic baseball bat and misses but grins ear to ear because she didn't fall over and find her head beneath the waves on the attempt. The hard rubber ball glides past her but doesn't get far before her eager black Labrador retriever and service dog extraordinaire snatches it from the waves and returns it to the pitcher when called.

Elizabeth Hawkes observes this event courtesy of the large picture in the cozy living room of the house on the beach where two of her dearest friends, who also happen to be neighbors, and their three children reside. "Mac, she's getting stronger and developing some new muscle tone in those slender little arms of hers."

Trish Burnett nods in agreement as she places a salad bowl in the center of the dining table. "It's not just her arms. When she comes out of the water, take a good look at her legs. The good one has some impressive new definition. Even the leg that she claims is just for show, has a much smaller but still noticeable amount of new muscle."

Skates turns and glances through the expansive glass pane once more before joining them in the kitchen. "She certainly isn't short on determination either. Whoever heard of playing baseball in the ocean?" Leave it to Laura to be the one to do it, and for her, it makes perfect sense.

Mac laughs as she delivers glasses of iced tea to the table. "Last month her physical therapist, Charlie, told her she couldn't play baseball this summer unless she could swing a bat without falling over and getting bruised up. She started practicing on the sand, for the first few days she fell over every time she swung the bat. Turns out swinging a baseball bat is a bit different than swinging a golf club… Different muscles. When she got tired of falling face-first into the sand, she marched into the house and announced that she was putting on her bathing suit because at least when she falls over in the water, it doesn't hurt! She stubbornly plowed away at that for almost 10 days before she managed to stay upright. Then, she moved back to the beach and started all over again without the support of the water. Hopes of playing baseball this summer have been carried away by the tide, but she's determined to be ready next spring. She wants to play Little League and she's not taking no for an answer. Warm baths and massages have become an almost daily occurrence to help alleviate the strain she's putting on her muscles, but she practices nearly every day. On the days when she needs a break, she plays video games with Liam… And I might add, she's not really a fan of video games, but she needs to improve her hand-eye coordination. She's yet to hit the ball even once after a solid month of practice. Harm told her the video games would help with that. So, like it or not, she has taken to it with a vengeance. Liam is a good sport, but he isn't enjoying it. He told me yesterday that when they first started playing against each other, it was 'sorta boring because she sucked eggs and it was too easy to beat her.' He whooped her all the time, but they have now reached the point where she's walloping him on a fairly regular basis, and I think he's missing the easy wins."

Harm walks into the room carrying a freshly changed infant on each hip and steps into the conversation easily. "She's Mac made over. And, by that I mean she has a mercilessly competitive streak. One that I think she's just beginning to discover. Yesterday afternoon, I heard the Super Mario Brothers chime signifying success, and the little girl who doesn't even like video games, crowed, 'In your face!' Poor Liam came in here looking like he'd just been sucker-punched. And, I'll tell you something else too. She may still occasionally fall over when she swings that bat, but aside from that, she's developed quite the knack for it. If bat and ball ever do connect, I fully expect to be replacing some windowpanes in this house."

Jack Keeter grins rakishly before tearing off a piece of warm buttered roll and handing it to his own sandy-haired infant who waits impatiently in her nearby highchair. "The game ain't worth playin' if the girl's not swinging for the fence."

Mac grimaces. "I should've known you were the one who told her that."

Keeter shrugs. "Course, I did."

"Jack, she's just getting her bearings, and she puts entirely too much pressure on herself. I'd be impressed just to have her meet the ball. She doesn't have to hit it out of the park."

He shrugs again. "You told me to treat her the same way I would treat any other kid. You told me not to put her in a bubble."

Mac groans. "You're going to throw that back at me now?"

Keeter nods. "Damn straight."

Mac laughs. "Some friend you are! Go tell kids dinner will be on the table in five."

Frank volunteers, "I'll wrangle and dry off the dog."

As the two men head out the back door, Keeter calls over his shoulder, "You know you love me!"