Scots on the Rocks

“Ah…that’s true. My father was the soul of integrity.”

Gertrude nodded. “More than you can say for some.” She shot her daughter a sharp glance. “Well? What do I say when Lunk—”

“You say,” Judith interrupted quickly before Gertrude could finish the derogatory nickname, “‘Way to go, Joe.’”

“Huh. Okay, help me to the door. I can do it from there, can’t I?”

“Sure.”

After getting Gertrude positioned in the doorway, Judith went back outside and retrieved the baseball she’d found in the garage and hidden under a fuchsia bush by the toolshed. Joe was coming from the garage with the baseball bat, an infielder’s mitt, and a pair of badminton rackets that needed to be restrung.

“I assume,” Joe called to his wife, “you’ve given up smacking the birdie around.”

“Yes,” Judith replied. “Toss those rackets. My hip has benched me. See if you can hit this.” She cocked her arm to throw the baseball.

“Whoa!” Joe cried. “Let me put this other stuff down.” He noticed Gertrude watching from the toolshed door. She had been joined by Sweetums, whose big orange and white body was curled up at the old lady’s feet. “Hi there, pussycats,” he said.

Gertrude didn’t say anything. Sweetums yawned.

Judith lobbed the ball to Joe. He swung and missed. “Oh, come on,” she said with a smile, “you can do better. How do you expect to coach Joe-Joe and Mac when they start Little League?”

“That was too low,” Joe complained, picking up the ball and tossing it to his wife. “It was so far out of the strike zone that it practically grazed my ankles.”

Judith tried to put more oomph on the second throw. Joe connected. The ball sailed off to the left, narrowly missing the statue of Saint Francis of Assisi.

Gertrude leaned forward, watching the ball land under a rhododendron bush. “Way to go!” she cried as Judith held her breath. “Way to go,” she repeated. “Good swing…Biscuit Pants!”

Joe stared at Gertrude. “What did you just call me?”

“Biscuit Pants,” Gertrude repeated. “Lou Gehrig’s nickname.” She looked at Judith. “What are you staring at? Lunkhead’s foul ball?” The old lady tottered precariously as she turned to go back to the toolshed.

“Mother!” Judith shouted. “Wait!”

Joe raised his hands, making a Churchillian victory sign. “I win!”

Judith barely glanced at him as she hurried to steady Gertrude. “What’s wrong with you?” she hissed. “You ruined everything!”

Gertrude took a couple of deep breaths and glared at her daughter. “I ruined you, that’s for sure!”

“That’s what I…how do you mean?”

With Judith’s help, Gertrude hobbled to her armchair. “By not raising you right,” Gertrude said in disgust. “For setting a bad example.”

Puzzled, Judith eased her mother into the chair. “I don’t understand.”

Gertrude let out a big sigh. “Didn’t I teach you never to cheat?”

“Ah…yes.” Judith grimaced.

Sadly, Gertrude shook her head. “But you cheated today. You pulled a shenanigan. No matter what I’ve done, I won’t have it.”

Still not sure what her mother was talking about, Judith sat down on the arm of the small sofa. “You didn’t do anything. I mean, you called Joe by the wrong name and then referred to him as—”

Gertrude waved a hand. “Hush! I…” She started to cry.

“Mother!” Judith got up and put an arm around the old lady’s shoulders. “You what? You haven’t been yourself lately. What is it?”

Tears slipped down Gertrude’s wrinkled cheeks. She took a handkerchief from her housecoat’s sleeve. “You better hear the worst.”

Judith hugged her mother gently. “Tell me.”

Clearing her throat, Gertrude made a swipe with the handkerchief. “Two weeks ago at SOTS bridge club.”

Judith recalled helping Gertrude get into Angie Mazzoni’s car for the card game with Our Lady, Star of the Sea —or SOTS, as the parishioners were more familiarly known. Afterwards, Gertrude had seemed glum even though she’d won the quarters.

“Go on,” Judith urged when her mother fell silent.

“You know what a blowhard Mary Clare O’Malley can be,” Gertrude finally said. “Bossy, too. On the last hand, she bid a small slam. I was pretty sure I could set her—if I knew if she was finessing on the second trick. She was bragging, and I hate showing off. Anyway…” Gertrude made a wretched face. “I peeked at her hand. She was finessing, so I played my high card and she went set, doubled and redoubled.”

“That’s it?” Judith said in obvious relief.

Gertrude scowled. “Isn’t that enough? I’ve never cheated in my life! Granted, she was waving her cards around along with her big mouth, but even so, I had to lean a little to see them all. I don’t know why I did it. I’ve been sick inside ever since. I’m probably going to hell.”