Coatesville Country Club

Coatesvile, Pennsylvania

June 28, 2036

Miranda stole outside onto the sprawling porch overlooking the golf course, hoping just to get a minute or two alone. The reception was winding down, and none too soon, as her adrenalin had suddenly left her. The stress, the excitement, the dancing, the small talk, the wine, the whole big deal had left her happily, but severely, exhausted. She just wanted to catch her breath and reflect for a moment. Everything had turned out just like she wanted, all disasters avoided. The weather had held out, she hadn’t forgotten her vows, Derek hadn’t changed his mind at the last second and left her standing at the altar. The whole thing had been so perfect and beautiful she just wish she had the energy to keep enjoying it.

She stood alone in the darkness, her back to the still lively ballroom. For a moment, it was just her and the night breeze on her hair and the cool tile on her bare feet, her shoes long ago kicked off under some table. She hoped she could find them. She looked back into the ballroom to see if she was missed. She spied her parents talking, her mom tucked right up against her dad’s chest, their usual pose. She smiled through her weariness and felt lucky.

Her husband of a few hours was still making the rounds, chatting with the handful of remaining guests. She would go back in and join him in a moment. He was better at this sort of thing than she was. She lingered, enjoying the night, looking out over the darkness of the golf course. She reassured herself that she would be in Hawaii soon, just she and Derek. No more people to please, no more small talk to make.

She turned with some reluctance to go back inside and saw that someone was coming out. She was relieved to see that it was just Seth, rather than some uncle or cousin or old friend that she would have to pretend to be thrilled to see. Her little brother, whatever flaws he had, was at least easy to hang out with, especially since she had let go of resenting him and how easily everything came to him.

He gave her a small smile, and they both turned back away from the ballroom to look out into the darkness. They stood in companionable silence for a moment. He finally spoke.

“Aunt Holly’s daughter. What’s her name, anyway?” His voice sounded odd to her. He’d spent four years in Georgia and now lived in Texas and had picked up a bit of an accent.

“Are you serious? How can you not remember that? Uncle Michael-- whenever he was over and they were about to leave? ‘Holly and Molly Holly and Molly Holly and Molly let’s go let’s go let’s go!’ It’s burned in my brain. I think of that every time I see her.”

Seth laughed at the memory. “Molly, of course! What a fool I am. Anyway, she’s pregnant.”

“Really, genius? I thought she had just brought a basketball to my wedding and was hiding it under her dress. That’s her second, you know. Uncle Michael is home with the first right now.”

Seth smiled. “Well, there’s a bullet you dodged. I would have loved to hear what sort of toast Uncle Michael would have come up with for you.”

Miranda laughed, and then they both heard the door and turned to see someone else coming outside.

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Pam plopped in her chair and let out a deep breath. She knew she wouldn’t be left alone for long, but she took a moment to take in the scene. Of course, she eventually focused on her husband. As much joy as it gave Pam to see her daughter get married, if she were being honest she would admit her favorite part was watching her husband. She loved seeing him dressed up, working the room, smiling, charming everyone. He looked happy and confident, she thought, like a man whose mission had been accomplished. And, she supposed, perhaps it had. She still had moments, even after 27 years, where she gloated to herself a bit. That handsome, charming man was her husband. He loved her and only her.

She looked around for Miranda and didn’t see her, but did see her son. That familiar motherly twinge that had been troubling her all weekend hit her again. She hadn’t figured out exactly what yet, but something wasn’t right. She stared at him, sitting blank faced with the decorative brunette he had brought up from Texas, and tried to figure out why she kept not believing him when he told her that he was fine.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her sister-in-law. “Pam, what a darling little wedding!” she said in her loud, brassy voice. Pam was hit by her perfume and almost coughed.

Pam almost felt too tired to deal with her, but gamely fastened on her most pleasant smile. “Thank you, Michelle. We’re so glad you could come.” Pam was lying through her teeth. But, a more honest reply of “get out of my face you obnoxious phony” would have been a bit unacceptable.

Michelle blathered on about how nice Miranda looked and how beautifully simple everything was, and how it proved you didn’t have to be extravagant to have a nice wedding. Pam smiled, ignoring any implied slights and wondering how she could gracefully end this conversation. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice, and felt a familiar arm slide protectively around her.

“Michelle, how are you?” Jim said. Pam recognized the tone of voice from when Jim used to talk to clients on the phone, before he retired. It was the tone he used when he didn’t like the client, but of course couldn’t let on that he didn’t like them. Pam felt Jim take her hand and give it a little squeeze. She had seen him on the other side of the room a minute ago, but was still hardly surprised that he showed up to rescue her. He always did. She allowed Jim to absorb some of Michelle’s blather as she looked around the room. She frowned a little as she saw Seth silently sipping a drink and wearing the same blank expression he had worn all night.

“I was talking to Tom at the bar a minute ago,” Jim said to Michelle. “He mentioned you guys have an early flight?”

“Yes, Tom scheduled it, we’ll need to be at the airport…was he drinking? All I need is to try to drag him hung-over to the airport tomorrow. Excuse me, I better go steer him back to coffee. Lovely seeing you both.”

And with that she was gone. Pam stood up and collapsed wearily into Jim. Her voice was soft and tired, but she smiled, and Jim could see the happiness in her eyes. She and Miranda had planned most of this together, and Jim could tell Pam was proud of how it turned out. “Thanks. I couldn’t have taken much more of that voice and her sly little put downs. Uggh.”

“And what about that perfume? “ Jim said, making a face. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand to see you suffer.” He gently rubbed her back as she continued leaning into him. Her face became a little more serious, and he was about to ask her if anything was wrong when she spoke.

“Have you talked to Seth much tonight?”

“A little. I feel like I’ve talked to everyone in the world tonight. I’m outta practice at this schmoozing thing.”

Pam laughed to herself a bit. Jim was still a world-class schmoozer. “Does he seem okay to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. You know Seth, he’s always prattling on about his feelings. Why?”

“I don’t know, something seems….just a little off. He’s so quiet.”

“Pam, he’s always quiet.” Jim spoke with good humor, but saw the real concern in Pam’s eyes, and changed his tone. “Do you want me to talk to him…see if I can figure anything out?”

Pam smirked at him. “Like you could get anything out of him? I just need to get him alone for a minute and he’ll spill to his mom.”

"He had a rough game the other night. Maybe that's bothering him."

"I don't know...don't worry about it. I'll figure it out."

Jim relaxed a bit, glad to see Pam’s tone lighten and glad not to be given a hopeless assignment of tryig to figure out Seth. He and Seth were close, but Pam was the only one Seth ever opened up to about anything.

They looked across the room and saw Michelle berating her husband, who seemed to be protesting his innocence.

“Poor Tom,” said Pam, her voice light again. “You were mean to tell on him. I can’t blame him for hitting the bar.”

Jim laughed, and his expression was a little guilty. “Well, I’m not exactly sure he was at the bar when I saw him. But I figured that would get Michelle out of our hair. Better him than us.”

Pam gave him a slightly scolding smile, and noticed Seth getting up and heading towards the porch. She gave Jim a quick kiss and headed that direction herself.

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“Hey there,” Miranda called cheerily. “Seth and I were just hiding from all the weirdoes you invited to my wedding.”

“Seth? Ranny? Hey you two!” Pam was pleased to have both kids to herself, if only for a minute. “Tell me about it. Your dad just rescued me from Aunt Michelle. How are my two favorite kids?”

They both smile a little at the phrase that they had heard so often from their mom. “Tired. Happy. Happy and tired,” Miranda replied.

They all exchanged brief hugs. Pam noticed that Seth’s was careful and awkward, and thought she saw pain flash across his face. She needed to get to the bottom of this.

“Did you see Derek in there, mom?” Miranda said. “Is he looking for me?”

“He’s fine, but maybe you ought to go in and give your father one more dance.”

Miranda smiled agreeably and headed back inside, leaving Pam alone with her son.

“How’s Candace?” Pam said, trying to sound more interested than she was. She knew very well nothing serious was going on between her son and his date, and really couldn’t care less about Candace.

“Fine. Well, a little annoying, to tell you the truth. She complained the whole flight up here about this, that, and the other thing.”

Pam steeled herself. “And how are you?” She said it pointedly, as a challenge, wanting him to know that she wasn’t going to take any bullshit nonchalant “fine’ as an answer.

Her son looked at her, and resignation passed across his face, the same expression she had seen so many times before. She saw something else too--anxiety, or sadness maybe. Her heart sank a little bit. She had been so determined to find out what was going on, she hadn’t thought that maybe it wasn’t going to be some little problem that a mother’s love could make better.

“Go for a walk with me, mom?”

She nodded, and mother and son walked off together, onto the darkness of the golf course.

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The left-hander, tall and graceful on the mound, showed no emotion at all as he sent batter after batter back to the dugout. His expression never changed.

Seth’s mind was always on making the next pitch. He didn’t think of the stakes. He didn’t think of the scouts in the stands who were evaluating everything he did. He didn‘t think of the fact that his team faced elimination and the end of their season if they lost. He didn’t think of the television cameras trained on him or even his parents in the stands. He just pitched. And tonight, everything was working. The fastball had zip and the curve was breaking sharply and every thing he threw went exactly where he intended. And, as the innings went by, no USC Trojan could even manage a paltry single.

In the stands, a normally quiet art teacher was straining her already hoarse voice urging him on. “C’mon Seth! You got this guy! One more strike!” was a typical refrain. She yelled at the top of her lungs. Jim had explained that Seth really couldn’t hear her. He had explained that the network might turn the cameras on them and that millions of people might be watching her on ESPN at any moment. But she was undeterred. She cheered every out, berated the umpire every time a close pitch was called a ball, yelled and clapped almost non-stop while Seth was on the mound.

Jim sat beside her, focused intently, his calm exterior belying that he was so nervous he was afraid he might have to go throw up. In contrast to his wife, he was mostly silent, clapping only occasionally. He hadn’t had many chances to see Seth pitch since he went to college at the University of Georgia, but he could tell from the early innings that it might be a special night. He thought back to when Seth was 12 and he pitched his first Little League game. Seth was a good athlete who loved every sport, but baseball had never really been his favorite. Jim had expected him to be a basketball player like him. The coach had been telling Jim that Seth could really pitch, but Jim went to that first game just hoping his son would do okay. Instead, Jim watched in stunned surprise as his son threw a no-hitter and struck out 14 of his fellow 12-year-olds without breaking a sweat. Five years later he was the most recruited high school pitcher in Pennsylvania.

“Bullshit, ump, that was down the middle!” Pam was outraged at the clearly blind umpire, although truthfully she really couldn’t tell where the pitch was from her vantage point.

“Pam! Do you want your students to hear you yelling that on television?”

“Oh, they’ve heard worse I’m sure.” She resumed her hoarse shouting. “C’mon Seth, c’mon Bulldogs!”

Jim smiled and shook his head. He loved teasing her about how much she embarrassed him at games, but the truth was he found it adorable. She got so fired up when Seth pitched, it was like she was a different person.

Seth took the mound in the ninth, his Bulldogs clinging to a 2-0 lead. The crowd, though, was focused on the no-hitter he still had working. The whole stadium was on its feet. Jim stood in nervous silence while Pam, her voice truly shot, tried her best to keep yelling. The first batter grounded out to shortstop and Seth struck out the next one. He needed one more out. Pam squeezed Jim’s hand. The crowd, even between pitched, buzzed in anticipation.

With a 1-1 count, the batter swung and the ball soared toward center field. For a moment, Pam’s heart sunk. But she heard Jim say “he’s got it” and saw the center fielder settling under it, waiting. The ball fell into his glove, and Seth Halpert had thrown the first no-hitter in the College World Series in 20 years

Seth gave a slight fist pump, the most emotion he ever showed on the mound, as his teammates swarmed him. Pam leaped into Jim’s arms and the fans around them all offered congratulations. Pam rushed down the stadium steps toward the field, Jim trailing behind her.

As the commotion clamed down a bit and the field cleared, Seth finished up giving a brief interview to the ESPN reporter and spied his parents in the stands, waiting expectantly in the front row near the dugout. He jogged over, his usual inscrutable expression finally breaking into a grin.

Pam, after yelling all game, was struck speechless, seeing her little boy covered in glory. She beamed at him and he leaned in and accepted her hug, and she broke into tears. Seth saw the tears as he pulled away, and Jim noticed real emotion flash across his face, a rarity for Seth. He reluctantly left to return to his celebrating teammates.

Jim and Pam stayed, soaking in the excitement until Jim saw an ESPN reporter checking them out. He didn't want to do an interview, mostly because he knew Seth wouldn't want it.

He turned to Pam. "Let's go, before they interview you on national televison and you talk a blue streak."

Pam looked at him with mock indignation. "I think I could do just fine talking about my fucking awesome son."