Lupe and Selina Play Through the Storm

“I play first base. What’s your position?” Selina spoke up and tried to steer the conversation to the game.

“Let’s wait and see what the coach thinks, little rookie,” Keri said.

Selina never envisioned anyone, including her coach, dictating her on-field actions. At Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, Selina was the person in charge, in the same way her father led his company and community. Her realization that different rules applied on campus alarmed her.

“Is she strict?” Selina pictured Coach Lupe as she remembered her twelve years earlier. Perhaps time had altered her. Perhaps she had become a grumpy adult. “She must be old, almost thirty by now.”

“Don’t let her hear you saying that. Otherwise, you will run laps,” Keri said.

Night had fallen, and as the girls began their bedtime routine, a disturbance echoed from the hallway. Selina ignored the noise and stood looking at Mr. Berto’s gift jersey that she had unwrapped and intended to wear to bed.

“You’re going to wear a Clemente jersey to sleep in?” Keri stared at Selina’s oversize baseball jersey.

“I received it as a farewell present from a friend. I didn’t know it was a Clemente shirt.”

“That must have been a generous friend. Those old jerseys are expensive.” Keri walked around to examine the name on the back of the shirt.

“Do you think it qualifies as vintage?” Selina said. “I probably should have left it with my dad. I’ll bet the coach will like it.”