Double Play (23 page)

Read Double Play Online

Authors: Nikki Duvall

~TWENTY-SIX~

Faye
paused in the hall and glanced nervously at the television on the way to Hank’s
kitchen. It was Tuesday, wash day at the Double HL ranch. It was also game four
of the World Series, starring her son, Jonathan Dillon Shaw, and unlike Faye,
Hank was enjoying every minute of the battle between the tied Federals and Hawks.
The game had begun an hour before, early afternoon in St. Louis, and even
though the sun was shining and the sky was clear, from an Oklahoma viewpoint,
it still looked darn cold. Faye shivered on behalf of J.D. who looked quite
comfortable in coal black long sleeves under his Federals jersey.

Hank
leaned back in his Lazy Boy and cracked a cold one. “Would you land already?”

“I
can’t look. Besides, I got wash to fold.”

“Your
boy is the star of the Series and you can’t look? Every mama in America wants
to be you.”

“It’s
bad luck.”

Hank
shook his head and sent her an affectionate smile. “You’re a strange woman,
Faye Shaw.”

“I
reckon that’s true.”

“Looky
there,” said Hank. “J.D. just got a base hit. You ain’t bad luck at all. Come
sit with me a spell.”

Faye
dropped into a seat across from Hank. “You want some lunch?”

“I
was fixin’on takin’ you down to Fat Jimmy’s after the game.”

“Were
you now?”

“Yup.
Took a hot bath, shaved and everything. Almost washed the car, too.”

“You
courtin’ me, Hank Long?”

“Have
been for forty years.”

Faye
chuckled. “I’ve only known ya for thirty.”

“See
there, your precious boy is too good to run bases now. They put in a pinch
runner for him.”

Faye
sighed with relief. “Good.”

“Seems
like he was just visitin’, now he’s on the television. What happened to that
pretty little redhead come lookin’ for J.D., anyhow?”

“You
need a whole afternoon to hear that story,” said Faye. “They was back together,
last I heard.”

“J.D.
settlin’ down.” Hank clucked his tongue. “That girl must be a real game changer.
What about that little baby she had with her? She take up with a colored boy?”

“Nope.
Found him in her office. Mother just dropped him off like he was nothin’.”

“I
ain’t surprised.”

“There’s
trash in every race, Hank. I’ve met plenty of the white kind in my day.”

“That’s
why we got so many of the in-betweens like J.D.”

“Don’t
start, Hank…”

“Half
breed taking on a colored baby. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“Ain’t
none of us pure, Hank, and even if we was, it wouldn’t make us special.”

“You
becomin’ a Democrat?”

Faye
leaned in. “How come you won’t sell Johnny this ranch?”

“I
didn’t say I wouldn’t. He’s low balling me, is all.”

“I’da
thought you’d be offering him a special deal, seeing as he’s been like a son to
you for so long.”

“He’s
your son, not mine.”

“He’s
the closest thing you had to a son in this lifetime, Hank Long, and the best
ranch hand ever set foot on this spread. This is his home, same as you.  He’d
love this place, take care of it the way you have.”

“I
know it.”

“This
is about them damn horses, isn’t it? That’s why you’re still fighting with
Johnny.”

“Let
me tell ya a little something about men, Faye. A man only appreciates what
comes hard to him.”

“Or
winds up bitter. I got my heart set on this, Hank. I worked here most of my life.
I deserve to die here. Johnny buys this place, I got somewhere to be when I’m
old.”

“You
ain’t old.”

“I’m
fast becomin’ old, just like you.”

“J.D.
pays me what it’s worth, it’s his.”

“What
are you gonna do with all that money? You got no one to leave it to.”

“There’s
my daughter Lucy.”

“When’s
the last time you saw Lucy?”

“What’s
that got to do with anything?”

Faye
shook her head and rose to leave. She hesitated, stretching her back. Every
time she sat for too long, her back began to ache.

“I’d
give J.D. the place if it set things right between us.”

Faye
turned back toward Hank with a puzzled expression.

“I’ve
always loved ya, Faye. You ought to know it.”

“I…I
appreciate you saying so.”

“It
kills me, a woman like you living in that old ratty trailer and me living in
this big fancy house. It ought to be the other way around.”

Faye
waved him away. “I like my trailer just fine.”

“I
meant what I said, Faye. I’d give J.D. the land if it meant I could have you
for my wife. You’re all I’ve wanted for a long, long time. The land don’t
matter anymore.”

Faye’s
eyes welled with tears. “Old man, you’re talking nonsense.”

“I
ain’t never been so serious.”

Faye
took one step forward. “He’d never take your charity.”

Hank
nodded. His face washed over with deep disappointment and humiliation.

Faye
took another step and stretched out her hand. “But I’d be honored to be Mrs.
Long.”

Hank
dropped his jaw. He started to laugh and his tired eyes turned watery. “Well,
hell, let’s do it tomorrow, then!”

“Slow
down now. It’s all new to me.”

He
took her hand. “I can’t wait to be with you, is all.”

“I
got a couple conditions, old man,” said Faye with a tender smile. “First, no
more talk of half breeds and colored folk, just family. That’s what we’ll be
now.”

Hank
nodded.

“And
you take that bath and shave every day for the rest of your life.”

Hank
grimaced.

“It
ain’t so hard.” She studied him a moment. “You and Johnny gotta come to an
understanding. He’s my whole world, Hank, you know it. Johnny don’t bless our
union, we ain’t got a deal, plain and simple.”

Hank
set his jaw. She nestled in beside him and kissed him. Hank came in for more. “I’ll
talk to him,” he grumbled. “Then I’m calling the preacher.”

 The
sound of a ball meeting a bat snapped them out of their stupor.

“Looky
there,” said Hank, breaking the kiss. “J.D. just hit a home run.”

Faye
grinned. “Guess that seals the deal.”

***

“You’re
driving to St. Louis?” Rita balanced a chubby Ty on one hip and watched her
friend pack an overnight bag. Halee had arrived the night before with Ty in tow
and had spent the night in her old bedroom. A light Indian summer breeze wafted
through an open window along with classic rock from the apartment next door.

“I’ll
leave right after work,” said Halee. “First I have to wade through a couple
stacks of bills and make peace at the literacy office.”

“You
should take Gus along. It’s a long drive to St. Louis and he’s never been to a
World Series game before.”

“There
will be plenty of chances for baseball in this family,” said Halee. “I still
don’t trust Chantrell. I’m not leaving Ty here alone with you.”

Rita
adjusted Ty’s bib. “Bobby could move in for a week or two.”

Halee
straightened and stared at her friend. “Look at you, grinning at the prospect.
You need me to get Uncle Gus out of the house for a while?”

Rita
blushed uncharacteristically.

“What’s
going on between the two of you anyway?”

“Who?”

“You
know who. You and Bobby.”

Rita
shrugged. “He helps me with the kids sometimes, picks up Vince from practice,
helps Teresa with her homework. He’s a real math whiz, you know?”

“You
two sleeping together?”

“Shhhh!”
Rita glanced nervously behind her.

Halee
giggled. “You need to marry him, Rita. That man will do anything for you.”

“It’s
not like that.”

“I’ve
seen the way he looks at you, Rita. It can be like that.”

“One
wedding at a time.”

Halee
sighed. “You go first.”

“I’m
hearing something in your voice I don’t like,” said Rita. “Are you and J.D.
fighting again?”

Halee
plopped down on the bed and rubbed her eyes. “He’s a wild one, Rita. He drinks,
he fights, God knows what else he does.”

“Did
you catch him with another woman?”

“No,
but he came home drunk and there was this picture in the paper…”

“Of
course there was. As long as he’s a celebrity, that’s the stuff they’ll print.”

“They
didn’t make it up.”

“You’ve
got some trust issues, Honey. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true. No
one can blame you. A lot of people have walked out on you over the years. But this
jealousy of yours is gonna ruin what you’ve got with J.D.”

“I
know.”

“As
long as he’s in the limelight there will be a dozen women trying to snatch him
away. They’ll harass you, lie to the media, they’ll even make up love children
to get a piece of his salary. Are you ready for that?”

“I
don’t know.”

“Well,
that’s the package he comes with.” Rita tickled Ty’s belly. “You come with this
little fella, and he’s been a lot more trouble so far than Catrina Hiett or a
couple of show girls, if you ask me.”

“Does
Bobby think we’re still in danger?”

Rita
shrugged. “All the gangbangers are after whoever capped Demarcus. The cops are
steering clear of the neighborhood till the bloodshed subsides. It’s a damn
good thing this little guy got out of there when he did or he’d probably just
be a memory.”

“What
about Chantrell?”

“Bobby
says she’s pregnant again. If she makes it through the war, she’ll have a new
baby before long.”

Halee
sighed. “I don’t know how to think about that.”

“Nothing
to think about,” said Rita. “What’s done is done. You’ve got your own future to
think about. How’s J.D.’s shoulder?”

“All
but shot.”

Rita
grimaced. “What are you going to do?”

“Buy
a ranch and move to Oklahoma, that’s what we’re going to do. But first J.D. has
to play every remaining game with an injury and win it all for the team or he
loses everything.”

“What
do you mean everything?”

“Victoria
Pryor blackmailed him into signing an agreement that he plays in every post
season game and they win the title or he forfeits all bonuses and salaries
coming to him.”

Rita
gasped. “Can she do that?”

“Baseball
is a dirty business. If the fans knew half of what went down behind closed
doors they’d think twice before they bought a ticket.”

“So
you’re going off to St. Louis.”

“He’s
not going to get through this one alone. Maybe I can’t be on the field with
him, but I can be there when he gets off.”

Rita
grinned. “That’s the spirit!” She grabbed a duffle bag and pulled a couple of
pairs of jeans and flannel shirts from her dresser drawer, humming along with
the radio.

“What
are you doing?”

“I’m
going with you, and so are Bobby and Gus and this little punk here. Family
sticks together.”

“What
about the kids?”

“Frank’s
mother can’t wait to spoil them. She’ll be ecstatic that I’m going away.”

Halee’s
eyes welled with tears. “Come here,” she said, drawing Rita into an embrace.
“God knew what he was doing when he kicked me out on the streets,” she
whispered. “There’s no better surrogate sister on the planet.”

~TWENTY-SEVEN~

Halee
waved the key fob over the lock on room 419 at the St. Louis Chase Park Plaza
and slipped inside. Despite the early evening hour, the halls of the hotel had
been deserted, the Federal players all tucked in for the night, no doubt
dreaming of victory. Someone had pulled the heavy curtains in this room,
blocking every bit of light from the city and rendering Halee virtually blind
as she let the door shut behind her. The chill in the room matched the outside
October air, causing her to shiver. She slipped into the bathroom, closed the
door behind her, and flipped on the light. All J.D.’s favorite toiletries were
lined up on the right side of the marble countertop in typical J.D. order, face
out and parallel to the gilded mirror. On the left side lay a pile of assorted
travel size bottles of this and that and a used razor left behind by Dirk
Franklin. It was good of him to trade rooms for the night. She’d have to buy a
very nice gift for his new twins.

Halee
leaned over and breathed in the musky scent of her favorite after shave, the
one J.D. left traces of along her skin whenever they were together. He’d left a
tee shirt hanging on the hook next to the shower. She buried her face in his
scent and felt her pounding heart skip a beat. Tonight was the culmination of
everything they had built together. Tonight began their shared future.

Quickly
she washed her face and brushed her teeth, then slipped into the pink satin
slip she’d purchased on Cam and Stephen’s advice. Every step of their little
plan to win J.D. over had worked so far. Why tempt fate? Even if they were in
complete darkness tonight, J.D. would see the pretty little number in the
morning, which, if she was lucky, would prompt another round of hot, passionate
sex. It had been too long since she’d felt J.D.’s rough hands on her naked
skin. Tonight she was making up for lost time.

She
inched open the bathroom door and listened. J.D. didn’t stir.  Racing across
the ice cold floor with her bare toes, she pulled back the covers on the queen
size bed and slipped in alongside J.D., nestling up against his warm body. He
was naked, just as she expected.

“Hmmmm.”
J.D. groaned.  He turned toward the window without waking.

Halee
curled one long leg over J.D.’s hip and sidled up along the length of him, skin
to skin. She rested her nose in the curve of his neck, wallowing in the warm
smell of the man she loved. He sighed in his sleep, that same little sigh of
satisfaction that escaped him whenever she teased him. Her fingers were ice
cold. It would be cruel to place them where she wanted to place them. She just
couldn’t wait to touch him.

One
kiss, then two along his neck and J.D. began to stir. She stroked his chest
with her still cool fingers, circling lower with each pass. He chuckled,
stretching to expose his flesh to her hungry hands.

“If
you say another woman’s name right now,” she warned, “I’ll murder you in your
sleep.”

“Before
or after the hottest sex of your life?”

“After.”
Halee spread her body over him, working her lips across his shoulders and mimicking
the rhythm of the lovemaking to come. The moist flesh between her legs ached
with need. He was already hard against her.

“Oh,
Justine!” he moaned. “You know just how I like it!”

She
bit his lip.

“Ow!”
“Don’t mess with a woman in heat,” she growled.

He
laughed a sultry laugh. “Baby, you can’t be here,” he teased, entering her in
one powerful movement. “The team says no sex till after the Series.”

The
first climax already moved through her. “Just try and stop me,” she panted.

“Shhh!
The coach’s room is next door.” He flipped her, covering her mouth with his
own. One large hand cupped her bottom, holding her close against his hips,
increasing the friction to an unbearable level. She wanted to scream, wanted
the world to know that this man belonged to her. She bucked under him, crying
out as each thrust took her higher. He exploded inside her, kicking every nerve
from her toes to her shoulders and dissolving her into a heap of rubber
satisfaction.

“Damn,
you fuck good, Girl!”

Halee
moaned. “Maybe something a little more romantic?”

“I
love you,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck in the dark.

Her
eyes filled with tears. “Say it again.”

“I
love you, Halee McCarthy.”

“I’m
going to tell our son he was conceived the night before his daddy won the World
Series.”

“You
gonna be one of those embarrassing mamas, are ya? Gonna show his girlfriends
naked pictures of him in the bathtub, too?”

Halee
laughed. “Maybe.” She laid her head against J.D.’s strong chest and listened to
his heart beat in the night and wondered what their life would be like
together. “Do you think we’ll want to make love when we’re seventy?” she asked.

J.D.
snorted. “Probably. I can’t think past tomorrow right now.”

“Are
they starting you?”

“Most
likely. I’ll worry about it in the morning. Come here, Beautiful.” He pulled
her into his arms and buried them both deep beneath the covers. Minutes later
they drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

It
was high noon, an hour before game time, and J.D. had already paced the
perimeter of the locker room about fifty times. According to Coach Morrison,
Favier was M.I.A., Franklin’s wife had gone into labor in the middle of the
night, and Talmey was in the manager’s office having a meltdown about his
sudden starting position. That left J.D. to not only start, but finish this
entire game. If the Federals won today, the agonizing season would finally come
to a close and he could move on with this life. If this hastily assembled team
of second string misfits could pull one victory off, he’d go home to a ranch
and a new family. If they lost, well, he didn’t know if his shoulder would last
an additional game and if it didn’t, he’d walk away from the season without a
dime in his pocket straight back to the minor leagues.  Most days, J.D. could
be called an optimist. Today, things didn’t look so bright.

Coach
Smothers entered the clubhouse and sized up J.D. stretching his calves against
a wooden chair. “You probably heard the news.”

“Yeh,
I heard it,” said J.D.

“You
don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I
can’t think like that. I got everything ridin’ on this game.”

“I
need for you to understand the risks,” said Smothers. “If you do any more
damage to that shoulder, you won’t be playing ball next year.”

J.D.
continued to stretch. “I hear ya.”

Smothers
settled onto a nearby bench to watch. “Did I ever tell you about my baseball
career, J.D.?”

J.D.
straightened and sized up his trainer. “I didn’t know you played, Doc.”

“I
doubt most people do. Wasn’t anywhere near your talent. Played for TCU, then the
Indians, got hurt my first season in the majors. Wasn’t paying attention and
took a bat to the head, knocked me out cold. Thought I’d lose my eyesight for a
while. Scared me off so bad, I put my tail between my legs and headed back to
Texas, but not before I got enough exposure to trainers that I knew that’s what
I wanted to do with my life. There was one old fella in particular I’ll never
forget by the name of Charlie Cotton. He was one of those fatherly types,
always ready with the advice, you know?”

“I
see he rubbed off on you,” said J.D. with a grin.

“He
said
Clint, you always got two things working on you at once, your heart and
your head. You gotta let your heart do the talking.
So I quit baseball and
married Twila. Best thing I ever did.”

“Are
you telling me to quit, Doc?”

“I’m
telling you to hedge your bets. You risk it all for this one game and you may
wind up with nothing in the end.”

“I
ain’t wired like that, Doc. I ain’t never been careful like you. I go balls out
or I go home.”

Doc
shook his head. “Halee get here alright?”

J.D.
frowned. “How did you know she was coming?”

“She
called me a couple of days ago. She told me about your contract.”

J.D.
blew out a deep breath and shook his head. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’d
convinced Victoria not to put you in game three right before she called. Halee said
I should let you decide. Sounds like it saved your bonus. She’s a smart one,
that Halee.”

J.D.
nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“What
do you think she’d say about you playing today?”

“I’ll
tell you what she’d say.” Both men turned as Halee entered the locker room.

“Baby,
you can’t be here…”

“You
keep saying that,” Halee said with a soft smile. “Hello, Mr. Smothers.”

“Halee,
a pleasure to see you again,” said Doc, tipping his hat.

“Thank
you for your help the other day.”

“Happy
to do it.”

She
turned toward J.D. and reached out for his hand.  “I know you think the whole
world is watching and that you owe Faye and me a happy ending. But I came to
tell you that it doesn’t matter what you decide to do today, J.D. It doesn’t
matter one bit to me whether you win the Series or sit this one out. This is your
decision. This is your dream.” She squeezed his hand.  “As long as you love me,
I have mine.”

J.D.
kissed her palm and took in a deep breath. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t
mind being a rancher’s wife?”

Halee
shrugged. “Uncle Gus taught me long ago, it’s not where you are, it’s who
you’re with. I’d go anywhere with you.”

J.D.
rubbed his jaw and stared at his feet for a few moments. “It’s been a long
road,” he said, shaking his head.  “I’ve come too far to back down now.  If I
never play again, at least I can say I won the Series.”

Halee
wrapped her arms around his strong body and sighed. “I believe in you, J.D.,”
she said softly. “Faye believes in you. New York believes in you. Go win this for
all your friends back home.”

J.D.
melted his lips against hers in a deep and passionate kiss. “Coach Smothers,” he
said, coming up for air, “start me at centerfield.”

***

Ten
minutes later the locker room was buzzing with news cameras and half-clad Federals
players milling around in nervous anticipation of an historic game. Simone
perched himself on a chair in the corner of the room and commenced to flirt
with an attractive young female sportscaster, opting not to put on his shirt
until the interview was over. Favier, finally located at the eleventh hour, sat
in front of a long line of espresso shots which he downed in succession, hoping
to counter the residual alcohol coursing through his veins. Coach Morrison
paced the floor and texted Franklin every five minutes for an update on his
wife’s condition while Talmey did some last minute repetitions with a set of
twenty pound barbells as if he could miraculously get in shape within the next
thirty minutes.

Clint
Smothers stepped up onto a chair in the center of the locker room and cleared
his throat. “Let me have your attention, everyone!” he shouted. A hush fell
over the room.

“Now
I know it’s been a long season and a lot of you guys are hurting. The good news
is, the same is true for the other team.” A low hum of laughter floated through
the crowd. “You’ve played amazing ball this year and, best of all, you’ve
played like a team. It’s no accident that we’re here today getting ready to
make history. So take a minute to turn and thank the guy next to you. It’s every
one of your efforts that brought us here.”

J.D.
turned toward Simone and grinned. “Thanks for covering my ass out there,
Simone.”

“De
nada, my friend. How you feeling today?”

“I’ve
been better.”

“Doc
fix you up with some good pain medicine, yes?”

“Double
dose.”

Simone
slapped J.D. on his good shoulder. “You a champion, man. Ain’t nothing going to
break you. Remember that.”

The
double doors crashed open on the far side of the room. Victoria Pryor waltzed
in dressed in leopard print and red snake leather. A consolidated groan
replaced the upbeat chatter. Undaunted, Victoria leapt onto a nearby bench and
slapped her hands together till a hush fell over the room. “Gentlemen! I hear
the least among you are taking the field this afternoon. Heaven help us.”

“What
the hell does that mean?” shouted Favier.

Victoria
turned. “I see you’ve sobered up, Favier.  Then you’ll understand me when I
tell you you’re fired.”

“Now
just a minute!” Smothers stepped forward. “We need Favier to play first. No one
else has experience at first base.”

“You’ll
think of something,” said Victoria with a wave of the hand.

“You’ve
sold every decent second string player we had! I want Favier reinstated!”
Smothers demanded.

The
corners of Victoria’s ruby lips tipped up. “Very well,” said Victoria. “You can
have him back on one condition.”

The
crowd waited.

“Your
resignation is in my inbox by the end of the day.”

J.D.
stepped forward. Simone pulled him back. “What you gonna do, get your ass
fired, too?”

“It’s
a matter of principle.”

“Principle
don’t pay the bills.”

“Coach
Smothers keeps his job!” J.D. shouted. “Or I walk.”

Victoria
turned toward J.D. with a piercing stare. A deadly silence filled the room.
J.D. took two steps forward. “What’s it gonna be, Pryor? You gonna bully your
way out of a World Series title?”

Simone
cleared his throat. “He’s right, Mrs. Pryor. J.D. don’t play, none of us play.
You forfeit the game.”

“Count
me in,” said Favier. “Smothers goes, we all go.”

A
general hum built into a roar, with one after the other player stepping forward
to voice his dissent. Victoria remained silent. “Well, it’s all a moot point
anyway,” she said at last, stepping down from the bench. “You’re bound to fuck
it up.” And with that, she slung her leopard print shawl over her shoulder and
let the door slam behind her.

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