by Lulu Pratt
“A little. Sorry. You asked.”
“I know, I know,” I muttered.
“Josef Haner arranged for her to return to Ukraine when it was still in the Soviet Union. It’s now an independent country.”
“It is, huh?”
“You gotta read a little past the sports pages sometime, you know,” Chris chuckled.
“I get that a lot. Okay, so my mother left because she was homesick. How come she didn’t take me?”
“Well, here is where it gets a little dicey. Apparently, your father had hired this housekeeper, Betty Ravenwood, who was a very nice married woman. That was against Oksana’s, wishes and she made Betty’s life miserable. But she made your dad’s life miserable too, because she wanted to go back to the USSR.”
“Okay. So, the big question, did my mother leave because of me, my dad, or Betty?”
“Not you. In fact, although she defected back to the Soviet Union, apparently, she fought to get you back for years, and your dad just ignored her and refused to negotiate any access at all. I have to say, your dad does not come across as a nice guy.”
“Trust me, he isn’t. He’s cold, distant. A prick.”
“Interesting.” The way he said that, I had a strong and not very good feeling that I just made a quote.
“So, did my dad have an affair with Betty?”
“That’s what I’m not sure of. I think he did. I think your mother left because of it. I think it was in 1988.”
“Yeah, she left in 1988 all right. I was about three.”
“Okay, and Betty was let go after that, and her child was born when?”
“Oh crap. I think 1988.”
“Huh. That is either a coincidence, and your father just gave her maternity leave and she decided not to return, or something is fishy.”
I had a sinking feeling throughout this conversation, and all this international intrigue was news to me. I was only barely aware that my mother was from the Ukraine. Although, to be fair, I am far from the best student of history, and I actually had no idea where the Ukraine was.
“So, that whole story basically tells me nothing,” I said.
“Well, that is one way of looking at it.”
“What are you talking about? It is the only way of looking at it.”
“No. I mean, you didn’t know that about your mother and now you do.” No wonder Chris wanted to write a book about my dad. But it made me want to stay the heck away.
“I wonder if I can get in touch with her?” I asked. “I am actually more confused now than I was when I called. Thanks for that.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. It’s your life.”
“No, I know. It would be great to talk to my mom. One quick question — does she speak English?”
“Z visimdesyatykh vona, mabutʹ, ne rozmovlyala anhliysʹkoyu,” he said.
I started laughing. “What the heck does that mean?”
“It means, she hasn’t spoken English since the 1980s. So, you might want to use a translation app or get a Ukrainian phrasebook.”
“Where do I get a Eurasian phrasebook?”
“Ukrainian. Get a Ukrainian phrasebook. In Barnes and Noble. I don’t know. Look around. Amazon?”
“Jeez. This is scary!”
“And it is not your focus. Stay focused on your arm and healing. That is what’s important. Stay away from your half-sister. I gotta run.” He hung up.
My half-sister? Yikes. So, there was no closure there. All I needed to know was to avoid her like the plague. And do what she said. That was easier said than done. I mean, I needed to meet with her, and I needed to stay away from her physically, and not have sex. That was the key. But how? I mean, I really, really wanted her.
Chapter 27
SCARLET
“HI MOM.”
“Hi Scarlet. What’s new? How was the hot date?”
“I’ll be honest, I can’t really even call it a date.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No. Actually, it was lovely. The problem is I can’t call it a date because I am forbidden from having a relationship with a client, and he is a client.”
“But that’s just nonsense!” said my mother. I was immediately reminded of the talk Harrison and I had about her and Roger Brett. I decided to hold my tongue. What was the point?
“It’s never been an issue before,” I said. “It’s just that we really get along well, and I feel like he really cares about me. Or at least I thought he did. Who knows?”
“Who knows about anything?” she said. And it felt like she was warning me about something. I just wasn’t sure what she was warning me about.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just take his father. He hired me when we really needed money, and things got bad, and then worse, and the more it got bad, the more he withdrew. He took advantage of my naiveté. I was young and stupid and a little starstruck. He took me to nice places, and I met ball players and big businessmen, and somehow, I felt that I was saving him. But in the end, he just fired me when he was done with me. So, you never know. I just stopped trusting my own feelings. I’m not sure if you are aware of this, but I haven’t been involved with a man since then. Since your father left.”
“I’m aware of it now. But I really think Harrison is different. He’s not like his dad. In fact, they don’t even get along.”
“Well, you have to do what you have to do,” she said. “I support you.”
“Mom,” I said, screwing up my courage. “Is Roger Brett…” I couldn’t go on. I wanted so badly to ask her if he was my father, but I just didn’t have the nerve.
“Yes?” she said, encouraging me. But I just couldn’t hurt her more.
“I have to work, Mom. Sorry. Are you doing okay?”
“Oh yes! I am keeping busy. Don’t worry about me. I can take it.”
“Okay. Good. I love you.”
For the rest of the day, I just went through the motions. For the next week, I went through the motions. Every day, Clay Carter would come to my class and sort of demand attention. And every day, he would come to me for his rehab work, and I did my duty. He was obviously trying to get two things from me — a date, which I absolutely did not want, and information. He would pump me for information about Harrison.
“So, am I doing good, Scarlet?” Somehow, when he called me ‘Scarlet’, it made me uncomfortable, as though he was taking liberties he really didn’t deserve.
“It looks good, Clay,” I said. “I can see no issues. Just keep your practice going and things will really start to change.”
And they did, too. For the Friday triple header, Clay was the hero in all three winning games. He pitched a no-hitter for the second game and helped to win in the other two games. He was on fire, as they say in the business. And he gave me credit, too.
“You really got me out of my slump, Scarlet,” he said to me the following Monday. “I owe it all to you. How can I repay ya?”
“No need for that,” I said.
“Think I’ll make it to the Majors?”
“I’m no expert on baseball, but you are doing well. Very well. It’s never easy to predict who goes to the Majors.”
“It’s me or that old guy,” he said. “Nolan told me there was a place and he was looking for a relief pitcher. Said it was between me and Harrison.”
And Harrison was AWOL all week. On the weekend, he was barely even used in the games. When he was up on the mound, he was fine. In fact, he was better than fine. He seemed to have got his arm back in a big way, but he avoided me like the plague. And every day that he was avoiding me felt like a slap in the face. Like I had overstepped, and he was blaming me for trying to sabotage his game. Baseball players get very superstitious, and when they think you are doing something to affect their game, they shun you. And he was shunning me, I was convinced.
The longer he shunned me, the more I began to think about him. I called Heidi again and we arranged for a movie night. She came over on Sunday and we watched The No
tebook.
“You know, that’s a way better movie than I remember. Maybe it’s because I was a kid, or maybe it’s because I didn’t used to know anything about love, but now that I do, the whole story makes a lot of sense.”
“No, I agree. That’s why I wanted to watch it again.”
“I know, right?” she said, sipping her pinot grigio. “You know that young pitcher, Clay Carter?”
“Yes,” I responded. “He’s been coming to the yoga class and to my appointments every day. He has really been working it.”
“Well, it’s paying off. There’s talk in head office of sending him to the Majors, and getting rid of Harrison Brett. He’s not been pulling his weight, they say.”
“Really? I guess that’s not so surprising.”
“I don’t mind. I like having the eye candy around. Every time he comes into the office, the place goes into a tizzy.”
I laughed, but inside I was feeling horrible. I sat there on the couch, feeling like a fool, jealous without reason, sad, depressed, and forced to listen to her go on and on about his ass. Which I could totally picture. I still remember walking behind him into the restaurant and marveling at the perfection. How lucky I felt. How privileged. And then, at the end of the night, nothing. He just vaporized. Which was a bit of a hurt. But how much more of a hurt it was to not hear from him for a week.
“Harrison is a good-looking guy, no question,” I said. “But that doesn’t win ball games.”
“I don’t really care if the Spark Plugs win,” said Heidi, who, by now, was drunk.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s great when they do and all, but the truth is, the fans don’t really care. They come to the games no matter what, and so it doesn’t affect my job. And if they win, the players all move to the Majors, and we have to rebuild. It’s a strange position to be in, to have a winning Minor League team. If you win, the players leave, and you have a losing team again. You’re like a victim of your own success.”
“I never thought of that,” I said. “That must frustrate the coaches and the manager.”
“It sure does. Which is probably why they don’t really care about winning.”
After Heidi left, I sat by myself, thinking about what she had said. She was surprisingly smart at thinking out these issues. She was a good person, and I think she was a friend. I just wish I could have told her about the time I had with Harrison. But that would be the end of my job if I did. And it was only a little after eleven, and I wanted closure on this issue. So, I called him.
Chapter 28
HARRISON
I LET THE phone go to voicemail, because I was just not in a place to talk to Scarlet. I knew I had been avoiding her, and she was probably confused or angry, but the bottom line was I needed to get my life in order and the hell out of this town. I thought about Scarlet every day since our ‘date’ and was trying to figure out some way to get her back in my life. Bottom line — I needed to get out of this town and back to the Majors, and then I could have her. So, I was working hard on that. On the weekend, I was relief pitcher, and twice I ended up winning the games, so I had that. And my arm was feeling better every day. I was doing the exercises Scarlet had given to me, and I did yoga at home, trying my best to get the moves so I could go back. I just couldn’t talk to her.
I went to the ballpark to work with the team, to show my commitment, and for the first time, Clay wasn’t there. That was something. That suck-ass, who was bound and determined to get to the Majors and, if rumors were to be believed, block me, and he didn’t show up.
When I did arrive though, Oscar waved me over. He was sitting in the bleachers, a baseball cap on, and wearing shorts. He looked comfortable and like he was in the best spirits.
“Hey,” he said. “You played some good games this weekend. I’m really happy with your work. I just want to let you know that Buzz is coming to talk to you today. It might be good news for you, might be bad news for me. It’s the same thing really.”
“Okay?” I said. I was genuinely confused. I mean, Buzz was hands-on for a manager, and so we tended to meet pretty often, but I had no reason to think anything new or different had been happening in our team, and so I had no idea why he would want to talk to me. “Any idea what it’s about?”
“We’re making some changes,” is all he said.
“Okay.” I walked away to the dressing room and as I made my way there, I spotted Buzz Nolan.
“Harrison Brett,” he said. He was smiling. I got nervous.
“Sir,” I said. “How are you?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I’m available right now,” I responded.
“Well, let’s have a seat over here,” he said, indicating a spot on the bleachers behind Oscar. Without a word, I made my way over there and sat down like a child about to be scolded.
Once I was seated, Buzz came to me, but didn’t sit down. “Listen, I’m only gonna say this one more time. We hired that Scarlet Ravenwood physical therapist for people like you, who were going through some post-op pain. She knows her job. She’s good and she is hard working. But I talked to her this morning, hoping to get the good news, and she tells me you haven’t been for almost a week. Is this true?”
“Well, yes, sir, but—”
“I don’t want to hear any excuses, Harrison! I just want to make sure you are doing her exercises. You need to get your head out of your ass and get back on board. I’m glad you had a good weekend and got those two wins. That looks good… to someone who doesn’t know the details. But I know the details, and I know you are doing what you do best. Toddling off on your own snowshoes thinking you know best about everything. You do realize that is your biggest impediment, don’t you? I mean, you need to trust that we have your best interests at heart.”
Truth is, I wasn’t so sure about that. I figured, logically, that they wanted me to stay here, and I wanted to go back to the Majors, and so we were not really fighting the same fight. But I didn’t want to tell him that. “I do,” I said, but I knew it rang hollow.
“Then explain to me why you are not taking advantage of a person who was specifically brought here to treat you and your teammates. Explain that.”
I thought about telling him the truth — that I was really attracted to her, but I knew that would lead to my firing and hers too. Neither of those were ideal. So, I blinked, trying to figure out how to explain it. “Buzz, I went to her and she gave me exercises. She invited me to the yoga class. It wasn’t for me.”
“‘Wasn’t for me?’ Sure, the heck it was. It was started specifically for you and your teammates. And now all the ladies in the typing pool have these firm asses, and you are skipping the thing. Makes no sense, and it is financially unsustainable. So, can I ask you, and this is for the last time, get back in the game, go to Scarlet, do what she asks, go to the yoga class, and then we can meet again. But not until. Got it?”
“You said you were pleased with my games this weekend—” I started.
“You were saved by Carter, and you know it. At this rate, you will never get back there.”
“Back where?”
“Don’t get cute with me. You fall in line and get your arm back, get that dang fastball back, or you will never get back to the big leagues. I don’t think I’m being over-dramatic, Harrison. You’re no spring chicken. This is your last hurrah. Got it?”
“Loud and clear.”
So now I had a dilemma. My plan was to avoid her and get out of here and then call her and explain. But that wasn’t going to happen. Now I needed to go see her, and soon. In fact, I probably should go right now.
Chapter 29
SCARLET
“COME IN!” I called. It was one-fifteen, and I had been waiting for Leduc Jackson. It was about time.
However, the door opened and it was Harrison Brett. Took the wind right out of me. He looked incredible. A little tan on his face, and he walked in with confidence. I tried to get out of my seat behind the desk but
failed. I just sat there.
“Scarlet, I owe you an explanation.”
“No, you don’t,” I said, although of course I did think he owed me one.
“I do. And at the risk of both our jobs I need to tell you this. First. Is there any listening device in here?”
“What? No. Of course not. You can speak freely.”
“Sorry. I’m a little paranoid. But you know, being paranoid doesn’t mean there aren’t people out to get you.”
I laughed.
“So, where to begin?” he said. I raised my eyebrows. He looked so handsome, I almost couldn’t listen to what he was saying. Funny how a week without seeing someone you really like can make them seem sort of more attractive than they really were. But God! He was attractive. He was wearing his baseball uniform for some reason, and it really accentuated his amazing arms, his height, his general beauty. And his burnished face was glowing in a sort of gold color. His amazing blue eyes were shining like sapphires on a gold band. When he stood above me, I was reminded of how he took me, and something stirred in me. Something entirely unprofessional.
“I like you. A lot. I had an amazing time. I think you are very beautiful, very smart, very talented, and very fun to be with. But there is a rule here, and I need to focus on getting out of here.”
“That is what I am here to help you with,” I said.
“I know. I just need to fast track it. I need to get out of here, because I have reason to believe it is me or Clay. And I have been told that this is my last chance. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Satchel Paige was fifty-nine when he retired,” I said. I had been studying my pitcher trivia.
“That was then,” he said.
“Fair enough, but Roger Clemens was forty-five. That means you have another decade at least.”
“Okay, I get your point. But I am no Roger Clemens, and certainly no Satchel Paige. I’m me, and I got sent down to the Minors for a reason. And that reason involves you. But I can’t be involved with you even though, to be totally honest, there is nothing in the world I would rather do than climb over that desk and ravish you.”