“I told him that, Davey.” Lenore hung the towel on a rack next to the sink and sat down across from him at the small kitchen table. “I didn’t want to have to fight with you about any of this. But Mickey doesn’t want us to spend another night together in the same apartment. He says that if it’s over, it’s over. He’s afraid of you-know-what, even though I told him there’s no chance of that.”
“So he’s coming back here tonight?”
“No, he said he’d bunk in with one of the guys on the team, but he made me promise that you wouldn’t be here. I only agreed when he got Estelle to say you could sleep on their couch, so you wouldn’t have to go looking around for another place.”
McHugh was tempted to say, “He’s such a sweet guy,” but controlled himself because he realized he had no problem with the sudden arrangements for that night. “Okay,” he told her, “Mickey’s probably right, and it will keep us from fighting with each other over who’s to blame for what’s happening.”
“No one’s to blame,” Lenore said, “or maybe we’re both to blame.”
“Whatever you say,” he answered, and headed off to the bedroom to get a change of clothes for the next day.
Estelle Doolin, who came from a Polish family, grew up on a potato farm in western New York near the state’s border with Pennsylvania. She was the oldest of seven children and had been taken out of school by her father after completing the eighth grade, the last year of junior high school. Her father had listened to the praise bestowed on his daughter by several of her teachers who recognized Estelle’s talent for learning and wanted to see her continue her education, but he saw his wife’s need for help in raising their family and felt his decision was the right one. Estelle had applied herself to what she was taught and became skilled in everything it took to run a large household. At the same time, she had taken correspondence courses by mail and was only one year behind her former classmates in receiving a high school equivalency degree.
Estelle met Mickey Doolin in Buffalo on the weekend of her nineteenth birthday. She had been there with her mother on a trip they had planned for months as a reward for her “graduation” from high school. The running of the kitchen had been placed in the hands of her sixteen-year-old sister for the three days they would be away. The two women were having lunch in a highly-recommended downtown restaurant, one that had begun serving beer and wine with its meals again, once prohibition had ended. The restaurant had been quite crowded, it being Saturday, and they had been suddenly asked by a tall gentleman if they wouldn’t mind his sharing their table with them. They had politely obliged, and as soon as he sat down next to Estelle, he had begun a running conversation, asking them all about themselves and life on their farm. In short order, they had learned that Mickey Doolin was a baseball player, that he expected to be playing professionally when the next season came around, and that he’d been told by several scouts that he had the ability to be an exceptional player if he was serious about making the game his career.
The time flew by quickly as Doolin talked; and the conversation would have continued in the now nearly-empty dining room had Estelle’s mother had not pushed her chair back from the table and said that they were already an hour behind schedule for what they intended to do that afternoon. Before Estelle could get up, Doolin asked if she would give him her address so that he could correspond with her by mail. The request had prompted an immediate sensation of butterflies in her stomach, but Estelle had maintained control and wrote out her full name and address for him.
The first letter from Doolin had arrived about two weeks later and other letters from Minnesota followed about a week apart. He had written about himself and whatever else held his interest at that moment. In every letter he had repeated his feelings about the wonderful time he’d had with Estelle and her mother in the restaurant and how he hoped to have more of such conversations.
Estelle’s replies had been less frequent and much shorter. She had enjoyed Doolin’s company at the restaurant, but didn’t think of him as a serious suitor. For one thing, he lived half a continent away; for another, he seemed much too taken with himself; and for a third, his occupation would keep him away from home much of the time. Although Estelle had been taken with Doolin’s good looks and his sense of humor, she refrained from intimating any desire for companionship with him.
Then, just a week before Christmas, Doolin had arrived at the farm with presents for everyone in the family. They found him a place to sleep in the house, and he had spent all of his time each day following Estelle around while she worked. He had talked about anything and everything, and his unending conversation seemed to bring them closer and closer by the hour. Estelle had realized that all of his talk about himself and his dream of playing professional baseball had been in the spirit of openness, not conceit. And she had found him to be sensitive to the things that meant a lot to her, including her desire to continue her education.
When he spoke of marriage, Estelle had told him she would have to think about it, but she knew she’d be able to leave the farm with a man she could love. On the day after Christmas the couple had informed Estelle’s parents that they were engaged (although without a ring to bear witness) and wanted to get married before Mickey had to go off to play baseball. All the necessary arrangements had been made, and in planning the invitations Estelle had learned that an older sister, living in a house that had belonged to Doolin’s parents in Minnesota, was all the family he had.
Doolin had signed his first professional contract with the New York Giants, and at the end of spring training in Florida, had been assigned to a Single A farm team in Charleston, South Carolina. He and Estelle had spent the entire season there, renting the second floor of a home just six blocks from the ballpark. Neither of them had cared much for the city, finding it uncomfortably humid most of the summer months. Doolin’s play for the team, especially his hitting, proved disappointing, and at season’s end the Giants had informed him that his contract had been assigned to the Boston Braves.
During the winter, Doolin had introduced Estelle to life in Minneapolis. The snow and freezing temperatures were nothing new to her, but the feeling of being housebound, with little to do for so much of the time, had disturbed her. Doolin had worked for the State as a mechanic in a garage that maintained snow removal equipment. Estelle had tried to find work in the city as a clerk of some sort, but no one wanted to hire her as soon as they learned she would be leaving the area in February. She had looked forward to their return to Florida, and they later celebrated their first wedding anniversary in Harrisburg, where the Braves had assigned Mickey after watching him hit good pitching in a number of Florida games.
Estelle’s search for a job during the baseball season had been only partially successful. Positions had been very hard to come by, especially for someone who was new to the city and had no helpful contacts. Still, she had managed to find work two days a week, cutting out and filing newspaper articles in the file room of the Harrisburg Herald. She had checked into taking courses in nursing at the Hope Hospital in town, but was told that all courses started in September. Estelle had tried spending other afternoons at the ballpark, but was bored by the game itself and had felt uncomfortable listening to the chatter of some of the other players’ wives, all of whom had seats in the same section. But had she continued to attend the games, Estelle probably would have noticed how well Lenore McHugh dressed whenever she appeared there, and might also have become aware that Doolin often seemed to turn his head and smile directly at Lenore whenever he had made a good play in the field.
It had been on their return to Harrisburg the next year and shortly after the celebration of their second year of marriage that Mickey expressed some dissatisfaction with their life together. He had found no fault with anything Estelle did, he said, but thought that maybe they had married too young in life. He was looking for some new spark, he told her, but couldn’t put his finger on what it was and wasn’t sure where it was going to come from.
Doolin had tried spending time with some of his unmarried teammates at night, drinking beer, playing pool, or joining card games, but he confessed to Estelle that none of it made him feel any better. “When what I want shows itself, I’ll know it,” he had told her, although by then he was already far into the web Lenore had been weaving. So it didn’t come as a total shock to Estelle when Doolin came home from the ballpark that day and announced, hands deep in his pants pockets and eyes staring at the linoleum floor, that he was moving in with Lenore McHugh to see if that was what he was looking for.
“Davey understands what’s going on and he agreed to move out. Is it okay if he stays here a day or two until he can find a place?”
“Mickey, I’m your wife,” she said. “If that’s alright with you, tell him he’s welcome.”
Estelle made McHugh feel comfortable as soon as he arrived. She had prepared steak and mashed potatoes, a ballplayer’s favorite dinner, and an apple pie baked in the oven while they ate. She’d had several hours to come to grips with the fact that Mickey had left her for another woman. What was she supposed to do now? She asked herself whether she would take him back if he tired of being with Lenore, but she didn’t have the answer. Eventually she decided that she would live her life with the understanding that Doolin was out of it. She broke the ice quickly with McHugh as she poured beer for each of them. “You can stay as long as you want, Davey.”
“Or until Mickey decides to come back,” McHugh said, watching her closely as Estelle first dropped her head and then raised it to look at him directly.
“Mickey’s an emotional guy,” she replied. “Lots of times he does things without thinking and then later changes his mind.”
“Well, I’m not going back to Lenore. That’s over and done with. You don’t get thrown out like this and then make believe later on that it never happened.” He hesitated, suddenly realizing that what he had said may have hurt Estelle. “Of course, there are always exceptions,” he added. Then, during a short silence between them, McHugh told himself that it was probably the time to go all the way and let her know how he felt. “I’d be happy to stay here, Estelle, because I like you very much and have for a long time.” He hesitated again, fiddling with the fork that was in front of him, placed there for the apple pie. “I mean that if we were both single and I was courting you, that’s what I’d be saying because that’s how I feel.”
Estelle blushed. She smiled at him and got up to check on the pie. “Five more minutes and it will be ready.” She returned to the table and sat in the chair next to his. “I like you the same way, Davey, and I’m pleased that you want to stay here.” She leaned her head toward him and he put his arm around her shoulder.
“Mickey won’t be thinking about a divorce anytime soon,” she said quietly, “even if he stays with Lenore. He says we haven’t the money for it.”
“I know that. And it’s the same with me and Lenore. We’ll all have to wait until times are better and there’s more money to spend.”
“So does that mean we’re just swapping husbands and wives for the time being?” Estelle asked.
McHugh smiled, and then there was laughter in his eyes. Estelle saw it and smiled back. “Don’t say it too loud,” he whispered, “the neighbors may hear you.”
Doolin entered the locker room the next day just as McHugh was getting ready to go out on the field. “Davey, hold on a second,” he said. McHugh stopped and waited for him to come closer.
“Is everything okay?” Doolin asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he answered.
“No problems with Estelle?”
“No problems.”
“You going to stay with her?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m planning to do.”
“Glad to hear it, Davey. That’s good; good for both of you. But I was thinking about you and Estelle, and how I just sort of messed things up all around …” Doolin looked down at the floor, closed his eyes, and seemed to be trying to remember what he wanted to say next. When it came to him, he continued. “I mean I’m the one who caused all this. This wife-swapping is on account of me, so I want to put a condition on it that makes it fair for both of us.”
McHugh tensed up. He knew Doolin wasn’t about to do him any favors, that he had to listen carefully. “What is it, Mickey?”
“Here’s my idea. Let’s agree that when next July Fourth comes around, if you still want to be married to Lenore and go back to her, or if I feel the same about Estelle, all either of us has to do is speak up, anytime within a week after the holiday, and whoever does it gets his wife back. But if it’s you wanting Lenore, you have to tell me in person, face to face, no other way. Or I’d have to tell you the same way, face to face, if it was me wanting Estelle. But we’ve got to have a year to see if this works out. So it can’t be before July Fourth, and it’s got to be only the seven days right after the holiday or forget about it altogether and there’s no swapping back, even if we’re still not getting divorced. I hope that’s fair enough, Davey. I owe it to you.”
Even before Doolin had finished, McHugh could see the fine hand of Lenore in everything his teammate was saying. She was afraid, he knew, that things might not go all that well with Doolin after the passion had died down, and it would be a lot easier for her to toss him out if he still had Estelle to go back to. Lenore wasn’t concerned about Doolin or Estelle, only herself. She knew that McHugh would never come back to her after what she had done.
“But what if a year from now you’re through with Lenore and Estelle doesn’t want you back?” McHugh asked.
“She’s got no say in the matter, Davey, unless she suddenly comes into a lot of money. She can’t support herself.”
McHugh realized how unfair the situation was to Estelle, but he knew his teammate was right. He also knew that Lenore would be able to find another man after Doolin, if she wanted one. “It’s a deal, Mickey.” he said, trying to keep things light. “You get to speak up during that seven-day period in July or forever hold your peace.”
Doolin grabbed McHugh’s hand and shook it up and down several times before saying,“Let’s shake on it, Davey. You’re a good man.”
The months that followed the wife-swapping arrangement were some of the happiest of Davey McHugh’s life. He couldn’t have imagined how well suited he and Estelle were for each other and how much joy she would bring him. It was impossible for him to understand why Doolin would have wanted to leave her.
There was little or no talk of Lenore or Estelle when the two teammates saw each other at the ballpark. Once in a while, when they happened to be alone in the locker room or when one sat down next to the other in the dugout, Doolin asked, “How’s Estelle? Is she treating you okay?” McHugh’s answer was always the same. “Yeah, Mickey, things are fine.” When the Harrisburg season ended on Labor Day, the two couples went their separate ways.
As winter neared its end and spring training for the new baseball season rolled around, McHugh and Estelle left the home in New Jersey they had been renting and made the long drive to the team’s training site in Bradenton, Florida. He hadn’t mentioned the agreement with Doolin to her, and only then began to worry that Doolin would take advantage of it in July. If that happened, he couldn’t be sure how Estelle would react. She hadn’t once said a bad word to him about her hus
band, and expressed concern several times when she heard about the fierce snowstorms that hit Minnesota, where Doolin still lived in the off-season. McHugh hoped to see his teammate and Lenore still showing a lot of passion for each other.
When he saw Doolin on the field the day they reported, McHugh asked how Lenore was doing. “She’s looking great, Davey,” Doolin said. “Minnesota was good for her.” Later, when Estelle asked whether Mickey had inquired about her, McHugh said he had and that he sent his regards. He was sure Estelle would ask the question, and had decided beforehand to do both her and his friend that favor.
Several days later McHugh learned that Lenore had not accompanied Doolin to Florida. “She just couldn’t come right now,” Mickey told him. “She took a job in a factory outside Minneapolis and had to promise she’d work right up until May when things slow down for them. So she’ll skip Florida and come to Harrisburg after I get there. I’m thinking the club will have us both back in Harrisburg for another year, or at least until one of us gets called up to the Braves in Boston. Hey, Davey, maybe we’ll both make it this year. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Yeah, it sure would, Mick.”
Doolin was right about the franchise’s plans for both him and McHugh. A week before the parent team was to leave Florida for several more exhibition games on the road before reaching Boston, the two of them were reassigned to Harrisburg and given four days to report. At Estelle’s suggestion, McHugh asked Doolin to ride with them in their car. But he rejected the offer, saying that he preferred taking a train so that he could move around as he wanted during the long trip from Florida to Pennsylvania.
May arrived and Lenore was still a no-show. “I haven’t seen Lenore out at the park yet,” McHugh said as he and Doolin were doing their stretches on the field before a game against the Wilkes-Barre Barons. “Still getting settled?”
“No, Davey, she’s not here yet. What a gal. Her sister, the one in St. Louis, had to have some sort of operation and be in the hospital a while. So Lenore’s there taking care of her husband and kid. She said you’d met her once, her name’s Pauline. I guess she’s a few years older than Lenore.”
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