Ground Rules

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

If you hit it over the fence, that’s an out: nobody wants to retrieve the ball from the neighbor’s slobbering Great Dane. Daddy and the oldest of my brothers, both lefties, have to bat right-handed; Daddy even runs to first base backwards. Because there are only six of us, my youngest brother announces, “Ghost runner on first,” as his spot in the batting order comes up. After he’s bunted the ghost to second and beaten out the throw — he’s small and quick — my little sister whacks the ball into the corner of the yard behind the air conditioning unit, clearing the bases of all runners, phantom and human alike. Daddy pitches to me, lobbing the ball gently over the dirty rubber home plate. Though I’m the oldest, I get four strikes; and I never ever have to worry about hitting it over the fence.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, whose full catalog is here, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her stories have appeared most recently at 971 Menu, Debris Magazine, and Bare Root Review.

Going Back to College

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

I backed into the only spot in front of the airline’s drop-off site and turned the key. “Mom, you don’t need to park, or get out.” I walked behind the car to the curb, as my son shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders and took a suitcase handle in each hand. Before we left for the airport, I had toasted and buttered two slices of bread and poured a bowl of Corn Pops for him. “You know I’ll be back in the summer.” Scruffiness covered his cheeks, but my kiss disclosed baby-soft skin.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her short fiction can be found at Rumble and The Flask Review.

Closet Encounter

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

“Because we can kiss like that still, I’m taking you to a hotel,” Jay says to me, as I lean over him. We haven’t seen each other in years. Jay changes into a pair of khaki slacks and combs his hair. A record album revolves on a turntable. I try on a new blouse and skirt: one is too tight, the other too loose. Perhaps we can find a cozy niche in a remote closet instead.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, author of The Mexican Skirt, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her stories have appeared most recently in The Ranfurly Review and Octaves Magazine, and are forthcoming in 971 Menu and Debris Magazine.

The Mexican Skirt

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

I asked to wear the skirt, a souvenir of a long-ago trip to Mexico, every time I visited Grandma. We tied its wraparound strings tightly around my immature waist, fastening the excess material with a big safety pin. I lifted the heavy fabric up from the floor and spun around. Grandma clapped her hands together as she sang, “Frankie and Johnny were lovers.” Her voice wavered when she hit the high notes. I twirled around the den, imagining myself older.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, author of Lucky, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her stories have appeared most recently in Brink, Hobart, and Clapboard House, and are forthcoming in Route 66 and The Ranfurly Review.

Lucky

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

Though business was understandably slow with the area recovering, Jane worked out of her new husband’s house. She struggled to remember that Dave’s address now belonged to her too. She shook off lingering memories from years of living with just her children in a rented Mid-City shotgun. Jane felt as if that old, elevated dwelling were her one true home. It ended up with four feet of canal water inside. She drove by and saw the brown waterline.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, author of Let's Play Two, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her stories have appeared in Rumble, The Flask Review, Brink and Hobart. She’s been nominated for a 2007 Best of the Net.

Late Shift

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

You wake up in the deep darkness. Knowing what time it must be, you trace her movements with your mind’s eye. She locks the thick glass door of the late-night diner and strides to her car in the nearly empty parking lot. You stay awake to follow her up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Not until you have envisioned her sliding the deadbolt into place do you fall back asleep. You hold your daughter’s image in your mind’s hand - to keep her safe.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, author of Going Back to College, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her short fiction can be found at Rumble, The Flask Review and in upcoming issues of Long Story Short and Brink.

Let's Play Two

by Teresa Tumminello Brader

Flexing the ball in his hand toward us in our hitters' stance at home plate, Daddy instructs us to “keep your eye on the white potato.” Right before he pitches the ball, ignoring our impatience, he reminds us again to “keep your eye on the ball until it hits the bat.” He doesn’t call the ball a potato then. If we try to be fancy when a fly ball’s hit to us, thus dropping it or not even coming close to catching it, he admonishes us with “two hands while learning.” He uses a different tone of voice to us than when he barks that same command to the major leaguers on TV: we learn then that even the greatest players make mistakes. When we ask why he calls the baseball a potato, Daddy just smiles.

6S

Teresa Tumminello Brader, author of Late Shift, was born in New Orleans and lives in the area still. Her short fiction can be found at Rumble, The Flask Review and in upcoming issues of Long Story Short and Brink.