The Grass Isn't Greener- Episode One: In Bloom, Chapter 2

Bruce McCrain and Norah Anam sitting on Norah's balcony in Florida

 

November 3, 2022
17:42 local time,
Greenwood Homes,
Sanibel Island, Empire Bay, Florida, Holy American Empire

“Just a second.”

The scent of butter and lemon filled Norah Anam’s duplex. Cod fillets hissed in the oven; the fan purred overhead. Reverie, her daughter, set forks at the table while Evelyn Esparza mashed potatoes and hummed softly to the radio- something quiet, something content.

Norah wiped her hands on her apron as another knock came, firmer this time. She frowned; she wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Just a second,” she called again, tugging at the apron’s tie as she crossed to the door. When she opened it, she froze.

Bruce McCrain stood framed in the porch light, the humid Sanibel air alive with crickets.
He looked her up and down- flour dust on her sleeve, the apron knotted askew- and let out a short, surprised breath.

“Interesting,” he said. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you in an apron.”

“Just because I don’t give those ‘housewife vibes’ doesn’t mean I can’t cook,” Norah replied with a smile. “Cooking’s one feminine thing I still allow myself.”

She waved him inside, barking for him to hurry so “those darn skeeters don’t.” Bruce stepped in without hesitation, leaving his shoes near the door.

He was greeted by hugs from Norah and Reverie, while Evelyn smiled shyly from a distance. She wanted to hug him too but reminded herself she didn’t know him well enough- yet.

When Bruce shook her hand, a small jolt ran through her body. She did her best to hide it, keeping her voice steady. Bruce sensed the tension but let it go; he had plenty on his own mind.

“You suffer the toughest loss in sports history,” said Norah, returning to her stove, “and you decide to come here- to your old friend. Not your dad, not your mum.”

“They’re too far,” Bruce said, helping Reverie set the table. “They’re both in Sǫ̀mbak’è- Martha’s the Governor of Victoria Island, and Thomas…”

He sighed. The thought of his father always did that.

“I still don’t know what he’s doing up there,” he muttered, “but the Republic’s benefitting, and he’s trying- at least. Trying with me.”

Norah chuckled as she checked the cod. She’d always found it interesting that Bruce never said Mom or Dad, but she never challenged him. She knew why.

“Give Tommy time,” she said. “He knows he can’t undo the years he mistreated you. Remember- you owe him nothing, even if he’s blood.”

“I know,” Bruce said quietly. “It’s just hard.”

“I understand. Take it day by day. Give him credit for trying, but don’t placate him just because he is.”

Bruce let her words land, then changed the subject.
“So- how’s Peace?”

Norah smiled. After she’d been let go by the Marian Police Department, Peace—the worldwide law-enforcement wing of the UN- had immediately offered her a post, recognizing her skills.

“I’ll have you know my boss, Roy Fowler,” she said, “is a carbon copy of Roy Finnegan… except this Roy married a total babe and has four kids.”

“Huh,” Bruce said. “Never thought I’d hear that either.”

“Well,” Norah added, smirking, “get this- next week I start as Commanding Officer of Peace Operations and Investigations. Every worldwide case will run through me.”

Bruce managed a smile despite his sombre mood.
“Congrats, Norah. You work hard- you deserve it.”

He meant it, though a trace of regret crept into his voice. For Norah, hard work had paid off. For Bruce- who’d worked just as hard at soccer, then baseball- it never seemed to.

Dinner was ready. Though Bruce hadn’t planned to stay, Norah wouldn’t let him leave.

“Brucey,” she said, “I love your politeness, but you really have to learn to stand up for yourself.”

“You may be right,” he admitted, tasting the cod, “but every time I do, someone bites back harder. You saw what happened in the Series.”

“We did,” Reverie said, taking a sip of water. “What did happen last night between you and Pembleton?”

Bruce exhaled heavily. The last thing he wanted to revisit was the Atlanta Dawgs’ Game 7 loss to the Toronto Bluebirds- the worst moment of his career- but he opened up.

“I told the media it was just emotions,” he said. “Truth is, that was a lie. I got in Rob’s face for not challenging the call. I questioned his will to win. I hate to say it, but I felt like Rob was trying to throw the World Series- just to teach me a lesson.

“He did it twice. First, when he refused to challenge the call at home- when I knew I’d thrown the runner out. That out would’ve won us the Series. Then, when I was up with the bases loaded, he sent the runner from third on a suicide steal. One pitch later, the ball ricocheted off the backstop, and the runner was out by a mile. I never even got the chance to try to win it myself.

“…and it’s not just me- none of the analysts or commentators can make sense of it either.”

He paused, then continued.
“I was traded to Atlanta at the deadline. We fought from day one. I wanted to go back to Borealis Bay so I could play football for Yamoria University- the Bacon always let me- but Atlanta was unyielding.

“My teammates thought I was undermining the postseason chase. I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to abandon my commitments. I even arranged to keep up my coursework remotely. I only wanted one day off to play for the university- they needed me. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Reverie gave him a look.
“Bruce, the Bacon are an absolute joke, so missing a game for them means nothing. The Dawgs couldn’t afford a day off- and you were their best player. I get your side, but maybe you didn’t see theirs?”

Bruce sighed. Evelyn, watching quietly, read the turmoil in his face.

“I tried,” he said finally. “It’s just hard. The Bacon won maybe as many games in three years as Atlanta did this season. Adjusting to that culture was a shock.”

“You must’ve done something right,” Norah said. “Until that final out, we thought you’d finally beat those stupid Bluebirds.”

Bruce sighed again.
“Yeah. I wish we had. Then maybe the last three months wouldn’t feel like such a waste.”

Silence hung until Evelyn reached over and laid a hand on his arm, her thumb moving gently.
“Bruce, nothing’s a waste. You learned about yourself. You gained experience, understanding, clarity- and you gave a country a season they’ll never forget, even if they’re hurting today.”

Bruce took her hand and smiled as she squeezed his.
“You’re right. You also sound incredibly confident and overly positive.”

“Oh,” Evelyn laughed. “Thank Seeker- he’s my AI friend. Helped me after my mom died, when I had to deal with that cult in Ceara. It’s amazing what these chatboxes can do.”

“Amazing, yes,” said Norah, “but I’m still not trusting Skynet.”

Laughter filled the room.

“Honestly,” said Evelyn, her voice quickening as her comfort grew. “When things get really bad, I just play Tulip’s music. Revy and Norah said they met her once, which makes me so jealous. Did you know her too, Bruce?”

Silence fell. Evelyn’s smile faded when she caught the disappointment in Bruce’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t-”

“It’s OK, Evie,” Norah interjected gently. “Bruce and Tulip were once a thing.”

“Oh,” said Evelyn. “Tulip’s never talked about her past relationships, but her songs are full of references. I didn’t think you’d be one of them, Bruce.”

“It’s OK,” said Bruce, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Tulip and I are still friends. We were just too young for anything serious. I’m happy for her, really.”

Evelyn sensed that wasn’t the whole story, but she could tell Bruce wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. Another silence settled- until Reverie, ever the peacemaker, stepped in with a bright grin.

“OK then,” she said, “what’s next for you? I’ve heard all these rumours- trades, free agency, Toronto, Tampa Bay- it’s crazy.”

Bruce shrugged.

“My agent’s been talking through options. Nothing serious- I told her I didn’t want to think about contracts during the season….but I’ve finished three IBC seasons now. Atlanta holds my rights; we’ll have to negotiate, and I can take them to arbitration if we can’t agree.

“Given how well I’ve played, that number will be high.
“Carly Rojas says Atlanta’s exploring a multi-year deal- maybe not Cool Papa Dimes money but close. I told her I don’t care about the money; I just want a deal. I’d take a modest raise, really- but Carly wants me to push for the moon.”

Norah dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
“The way you talk, you make that sound like a bad thing.”

“Because I don’t know if I want to play baseball anymore,” Bruce said. “Playing with the Bacon was draining. Playing for Atlanta- supposedly the dream- was worse…and that was before the stupidest loss I’ve ever had.

“…but what if football doesn’t work out? Carly says the WFL won’t look at me because I play for a small college, even though I’m doing well. I’ve thought about declaring for the draft, but she says the Dawgs would discipline me and the union might not back me…and after seeing how Atlanta’s fans took to me…I don’t want to let them down.

“So I’m stuck.”

Evelyn squeezed his hand again. Silence settled over the table.

“I’d say take your time,” Norah said. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Let the pain of yesterday fade. Maybe in a week or two—when you’re ready- you and Carly can go through your options.

“Remember, though: just like with Tommy, you don’t owe Atlanta anything. You don’t even owe baseball anything. Whatever you do, make that choice with a clear head.”

Her words lingered as they finished dinner. When they rose, Evelyn hugged Bruce tightly—unexpected but comforting. Then she and Reverie went upstairs, leaving Norah to grab two beers from the fridge.

“Want one?” she called. “Sandy’s- Sanibel’s finest. The only beer I drink.”

Bruce hesitated, then nodded. Tonight was special. They carried their bottles out to the screened balcony.

“I thought you said you’d never touch beer to fight Irish stereotypes,” Bruce teased, tasting it.

“Roy encouraged me,” Norah said. “Said I hadn’t lived till I tried it. Now I’m hooked- responsibly hooked. On nights like this, it helps me breathe.”

Bruce chuckled, taking another sip. For him, too, the word clarity rang true.

“Evelyn,” he said. “She’s new. How did you take her in?”

“Long story,” Norah replied. “Peace was running a raid deep in the jungles of Crato, near the tripoint between Crato, Ceara, and Evea.”

“The warzone.”

“Rough place. Evea’s occupied the humanitarian corridor again, claiming militants were hijacking aid trucks. We found hackers rerouting them past checkpoints- turned out they were part of the Order of the Rose. Evelyn was caught up with them.

“So a counter-terror op became a hostage rescue. Peace granted her immunity if she testified. She’s with me under protection- but truthfully, I like her. She fits with my family; Revy adores her…and she could teach our tech analysts a thing or two. Once I’m Commander, I’ll push to hire her.”

“She’s intense,” Bruce said. “Feels everything deeply. I could tell she wanted to hug me the moment we met- and then finally did once I’d relaxed.”

Norah smiled.
“Remember the rabbit girl at McCrain Manor in Marian?”

“I do. The Leporid. She was interesting.”

“I think Evelyn’s one of them. Revy thinks so too. The craving for affection, the emotional sensitivity- it’s textbook. She hides her ears because her mother did; she had to, to survive in Brazil. We’re hoping that here, in the HAE, she’ll feel safe enough to be herself.”

“I guess Evelyn’s looking for clarity too,” Bruce said.

He finished his beer and rose. Norah stood with him, and they shared a warm hug.

“Send my best to Reverie and Evelyn,” he said, slipping on his shoes.

“You said you’ll be Commander next week,” he added at the door.
“Yes, I will.”
“Could you… investigate Rob? For cheating? I know it sounds absurd, but it’s the only reason I can think of for his decisions in Game 7. I felt like he was trying to throw it.”

Norah smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t justify an investigation just because a manager made bad calls. If we did that, we’d spend millions of hours chasing ghosts. I get it- you’re hurt and let down, and that’s valid…but it doesn’t make Rob a criminal.”

They hugged once more.

“Take your time, Bruce,” Norah said softly. “Clear your head, then make your decisions. If you still think something’s off about Rob when you’re thinking clearly, come back to me. I’ll listen then- not to frustration from losing Game 7.”

Bruce nodded, thanked her for her time and kindness, and stepped into the humid night.