Silver Slugger: the Sixth Game

"I got engaged. Got married in early September, Labor Day weekend. Away from Chicago."

"To a man who gave you money."

"To a man who gave me lots of money in ten years before he dropped dead of a heart attack."

"You've done very well."

"I knew what to do with it. I know how to make money from money. I know how to run a ball club, too."

"And he gave you a daughter? Didn't he?"

"No. I don't think so," she said softly. "Someone else did."

"Who?"

Another pause and a faint reply. "There were so many. I was a slut in those days."

Dober chuckled into her beer can. "Always, Kat, always. The guys used to talk about you in the locker room all the time: you went through the faculty and administration by Christmas, both sexes. There was a circle jerk dedicated to you by the basketball team one night in the shower room. The band guys could hardly watch your hands. You're still pretty much a slut. The Silver Slugger tradition is your way of working that out." His voice was calm and non-judgmental.

"Touché." There was a clink as she took a sip from an iced drink. "We did get a I rating at District Music Contest." A distant boom from a storm reverberated, the clouds were moving from North to East. "How did you figure me out? I went to a lot of trouble to keep this little tradition a secret. I went to a lot of trouble to keep me a secret."

"I'm not a dummy, and you're not the only one who can manage money. Wanda looks so much like you did then: when I met her through Rocky I thought I'd gone through a time machine. I helped Rocky find an apartment and we spent a lot of time talking; I like the kid. He told me about his girlfriends, and details Wanda dropped about her life tripped my radar. She didn't withhold a lot other than she's the owner's daughter. The bits and pieces she threw out about herself and her mother and they made sense after a while. The Internet, a few friends, and an investigator filled it in."

"Very nice, Sherlock. First class, I should say. I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you last spring, but I couldn't put my finger on it."

They sipped their drinks. Flickers of a thunderstorm in the distance provided a show, but in the wrong direction for a local shower. "Kat, I know who Wanda's father is," he said softly

Kat turned to look at Dober, one eyebrow raised. "Really?"

"Really."

"Who?"

"Me."

A pause and a look. "She looks a little like you around the eyes. Got proof?"

"Yup. I'll show it to you, if you want. Got some hair and saliva, sent it off to a lab. She's got my mother's eyebrows and ears. Results came back a month ago. Nobody knows except you and me."

They sipped their drinks and Dober finished his, dropping the can in the wastebasket. "So where do we go now?" she said at last. "What do you want? A job next year? Pitching coach? Front office?"

"My wants are very simple."

"Here is comes. What are your wants?"

There was a long, dramatic pause, and a twinkle in his eye showed in the dim light. "I'd like to fuck you again, Kat."

Kat's jaw dropped. Her head turned to one side, trying to digest the information. "How many times were you married?"

"Three. Distance killed them all: all the women I married wanted me to quit baseball and get a regular life before I wanted to."

"Married now?"

"Nope."

"Dating?"

"Used to date off and on. After a few years, I got tired of the bimbos. Not for eight years now.".

"Children?"

"Five. Four boys and one girl--besides Wanda, so I guess she makes six. Three from marriage number one and two from number two."

"Frankie your oldest till now?"

"Yup. Got three grandchildren, too. Frankie's little boy's 18 months, and Sid has 6 month old twins."

She went to the bar and fixed herself another Scotch on the rocks. Taking off her coat and loosening the top button of her blouse, she faced him five feet away, shaking her head. "I don't get you."

He smiled. "My turn. I know you're not married now; any boyfriends, Kat?"

"Nope. Got tired of the bastards. I run my life and my business."

"No problem. Any other kids than Wanda?"

"No. She's the only one. I want grandchildren."

"You'll have them; she's pregnant."

Kat's jaw dropped. "How do you know?"

"I know. I've got a gift. Get her to take a test, you'll see. And her friend, Karen."

"Damn bulldyke."

"You're being unfair. You used to sleep with women before men wrote letters to Penthouse about it. Maybe you still do."

"Touché." She batted her eyes and unbuttoned another button. Dober blinked and watched the show. "So John, why do you want to sleep with me again? You know all my secrets, you can expose me to the world, ruin my plans. You have a lot of leverage over me; you could ask me for a job, money, stock options, and I'd have to give it to you. If I were unscrupulous I could have you murdered."

"You're not that ruthless."

He looked at the refrigerator at the bar with a question in his eyes. She nodded and he went over, discovering a premium beer within. Finding an opener, he cracked it open and took a sip. The distant light show played out an barely illuminated their staredown.

He broke the tense silence. "You're the most fabulous woman I've ever known. I adored you since High School, I watched you as you walked through the hallways in your sweaters, short skirts and heels. When you lured me into your pad, I went willingly, like a sailor swimming out to meet the Sirens. Those weeks were the finest loving I've ever known. Not only the finest sex, it was more. We spent a lot of time running around the Loop, having fun in the park at the diamond. The touch of your lips on my body, the touch of my hands on your skin have haunted me ever since. No one was as good as you, I never found enough of you in another woman. I've craved you all these years."

She looked down, embarrassed. He put down his beer, came over and raised her face with his left index finger. "I'm comfortable, I've got a wonderful place to live in the Ozarks, I don't have to work another day in my life," he said. "I got a great family, and it's growing. 26 years ago, a 21 year old who graduated from college early and went into teaching encountered a 19 year old freshly graduated senior and they made beautiful music together. You're still so lovely, Kat, I can hardly bear to look at you, you're so beautiful. I know I'm a worn out old man, but I'd like to make a little of that music again. No games, no strings, no expectations."

A tear crept down her cheek. Her mouth moved and she took the finger in her mouth and began sucking it, running her tongue around the fingernail. His eyes closed and he put his right hand on the bar to steady himself. Flickers of electricity painted the horizon outside, and a breeze rattled the stadium.

Suddenly, she let the finger go. "I have one question for you, John," she asked, shaking.

"What?"

Her eyes brimmed full, and her lip trembled. "It's about what you love, John."

"Yes."

"Do you love baseball?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Do you love baseball?"

He tapped his foot impatiently.

"Do youlovebaseball, John?"

"I spent the past 26 years playing baseball. One son will be in the majors next year, two more have a chance. I could have been sitting on my dock at the Lake of the Ozarks all summer, going to AA games in Springfield instead of busting my nuts for Mutt's team. I could have coached. I had to come back and lay it out there again, finish my career the right way, even though it meant going back to the minors. I didn't have to: I spent 23 years in the Majors. I wanted to be on your team for once, to win it for you again. Baseball is my life, Kat, it's in my blood. I will always be around baseball. Even though I'll never pitch again, baseball will be the most important part of me."

She came to him in a rush and a cry. Their lips met, and two old lovers sank to the floor to remember a warm Lincoln Park summer where they celebrated their first season together with skin, sweat, softness and hardness, as the echos of the stadium surrounded them. What the lovers lacked in youthful flexibility, they made up for in rekindled passion. The distant flickering faded from the horizon, and the stars came out against the darkened light standards keeping sentinel as the silent green cathedral below waited for its destiny: Game Seven.