by KG MacGregor
As he pleaded his case, she noticed a guy on a small tractor mowing the outfield with such precision that it yielded a giant green checkerboard. The aroma of fresh-cut grass was intoxicating, but hardly enough to lull her into saying yes when every cell in her body was screaming No!
“I know nothing about baseball. As in zilch, nada, diddly squat.”
“You don’t need to. The Longdogs are what’s called a farm team for the Pirates. All the baseball decisions get made in Pittsburgh. Your job is to bring folks out to the ballpark, show ’em a good time, and send ’em home feeling like they got their money’s worth. Heck, the Dogs don’t even have to win for that. Lord knows we’ve sat through our share of duds and had fun just the same.”
Fine, so the job was right up her alley. She’d sold everything from toys to medical devices to investment services, all by designing special events that created curiosity and passion for new ideas. That didn’t mean she wanted to move back to Kentucky to sell a night at the ballpark.
“Don’t underestimate your daddy’s business acumen. He’s one shrewd son of a gun. Before he shook on this deal with Duffy, he worked up a new lease with the town council that gives him all park-related revenue for a rock-bottom rent. That’s because the council wanted to keep this team in Leland. We’re talking advertising, concessions, merchandising. And tickets for everything under the sun. You can stage concerts, motivational speakers, whatever your pretty little head dreams up.”
She admittedly was impressed by her father’s inspiration. Still, it was a mammoth undertaking for a man nearing retirement age, especially one who now had cause to be concerned for his health. “But I’m worried about Dad. What if he’s not the same guy he was two days ago?”
“That makes you being here all the more important, Britt…especially since we already signed the loan papers.” Red and sweating from the midday sun, he led her along the aisle to a shaded section directly behind home plate. “Last year, the Bloomington Bicycles sold for twelve million dollars, and they’ve only got fifteen hundred seats. You know why? Because they sell out. They’ve got a waitlist for season tickets. That’s what somebody like you can do for the Longdogs.”
Twelve million dollars?
“We practically stole this team off Duffy for a paltry two-point-two. You give it one good summer, maybe two. It’ll be worth twice that, easy. All it takes is steady work and smarts.” He tapped his finger to his temple. “You get this place humming and next thing you know some dot-com billionaire’s gonna waltz in here and wave ten or fifteen million dollars under our noses.”
There wasn’t a whole lot she wouldn’t do for ten or fifteen million dollars, but she was enough of a realist to know that most get-rich-quick schemes were too good to be true. For JT’s plan to work, every single piece would have to fall into place. “What happens if the Pirates pull the plug before we get things turned around?”
He blanched. With his hands in his pockets, he began to rock. “Obviously, that’d be the worst-case scenario. We’d have to convince another team to move operations to Leland. That’ll be hard to do if we’ve still got a thousand empty seats.”
“And Dad’s investment?”
“Gone.”
As far as she was concerned, that changed all the calculus. Her dad didn’t just want her back in Leland. He needed her to help make a go of it. If she turned her back on him, he could lose everything.
One summer, maybe two.
“All right, so assuming I say yes…what happens next?”
He broke into a broad grin. “We hit the ground running…right this minute.”
Chapter Six
After a workout at Grace Hospital’s wellness center, Ninah dreamed of melting into her sofa with a crisp salad and a broiled filet of salmon. She wrinkled her nose and perished the thought. Surely an hour of cardio and weightlifting deserved a guilt-free plate of chicken fettuccine.
Her apartment was on the lower level of an eighty-year-old white frame house. She arrived home after sunset but before dark, what her mother called “the lightning bug hour.” Upstairs neighbor Emmy Sharpe was milling about on the wide covered porch they shared.
“I thought you’d be in bed by now,” Ninah said as she climbed the gray plank stairs. “Seeing as how you had such a late houseguest last night.”
A pharmacist at Grace Hospital, Emmy also happened to be Justine and JT’s daughter. “Is there no such thing as privacy?”
Ninah snorted. “Not when your stairs are next to my headboard. Why the secrecy? You afraid I’ll tell your mom about your sleepovers?”
“Technically, they aren’t sleepovers if nobody sleeps.”
“TMI, girl. TMI.”
At twenty-nine years old, Emmy was almost a contemporary but for the fact that she’d been a junior in high school the year Ninah began her teaching career at Leland High. Over the years, Emmy’s occasional presence at parties hosted by her mom and Carly helped dispel their teacher-student dynamic, but it was only when they became duplex-mates that they established themselves as adult friends and confidantes.
Dressed in cartoon pajama bottoms and a tank top, Emmy was pinching dead leaves off her potted begonias and geraniums. Tall and fit like Justine, and with the same auburn hair, she also shared her mother’s interest in plants. “Not to belabor the obvious, Ninah…we’ve been neighbors for three years now. When are you going to have a sleepover?”
“I’ll have you know I’m taking a break.”
“For three years? That’s not a break, it’s a coma. You need to get laid, woman.”
It so happened the thought of dating someone had unexpectedly crossed her mind last night as she’d gazed across the table at Britt Iverson. Leland needed more women like Britt. Even one would be a vast improvement.
She collapsed on the porch swing and kicked the floor to set it in motion. “As luck would have it—bad luck, that is—I ran into Teri Kaufman at Whole Foods yesterday. That usually puts me off thoughts of sex for a month or so.”
“You give that girl too much power. Cut the cord already.”
“Don’t worry, it’s cut. I think she’s down to two friends, Robbi and Liv. I’m afraid to ask what they see in her. Some things you’re better off not knowing.”
Emmy pitched the clippings over the rail and signaled with her shaking hips that she wanted Ninah to scoot over on the swing. “So get your butt back out there and find somebody better.”
“Right, I’ll just pick one from the multitudes throwing themselves at my feet,” she replied sarcastically, snapping her fingers. “What’s really pathetic is—thanks to that list your mom keeps—I know practically all the lesbians in town, and there’s not a single one I wanna date.”
“I kind of felt that way too…about the guys, not the lesbians. But then all of a sudden there he was.”
“Lucky you. So how come you’re sneaking him in and out of your place at all hours of the night. Oh wait, he’s not—”
“He’s not married. It’s just that we’d like to have a little more time with each other before we announce it to the world. You know how Mom will be if she finds out I’m seeing somebody. She’ll have a million questions, the first being whether or not he’s ever voted for a Republican.” After a couple of seconds, she pointedly added, “I’m almost positive he hasn’t.”
“And your dad will wanna see his bank statements.”
“Exactly. Let’s hope I’m better at keeping a secret than Mom. I’ll never forget when she fell for Carly. She thought nobody knew but it was all over her face.”
Ninah chuckled. “It still is. I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other.”
“You had that with Teri once, right? Obviously not at the end, but you must have loved each other at some point.”
Surely they had…though it was hard to remember any loving feelings given the acrimony surrounding their demise. “We had our moments, I guess, especially the first couple of years. All those endorphins have a way of making you oblivious to
somebody’s flaws. Considering what I know now, I can’t believe we lasted six years. I must have been sleepwalking.”
“Six years. It scares the shit out of me to think I could spend that long with somebody and not have anything to show for it.” She hissed and sheepishly added, “Sorry, didn’t mean for that to come out so brutal.”
“No point in sugarcoating it. Our relationship ended in a raging dumpster fire. At least when your mom and dad split up, they stayed friends.”
“You weren’t there for the fireworks. But yeah, they eventually worked through it. Maybe one of these days you and Teri…”
“I don’t want Teri for a friend. In fact, I’d prefer never to see her again, but Leland’s too small for that. Let’s just hope I don’t ever need an x-ray or CAT scan. She’d probably kill me with radiation.”
“She’s not the only imaging tech at Grace Hospital, you know. They’ve got two or three others on staff who could kill you too.” Emmy bumped her shoulder playfully.
“I thought about moving when we split up so I wouldn’t have to run into her anymore. There was an opening at Dunbar High in Lexington but by the time I finally made up my mind to go for it, they’d hired somebody else.”
“I can’t believe you’d let her run you out of town. This is your home. You’ve been here what, fifteen years?”
She’d chosen Leland High School from the list of job openings posted in the placement office at Western Kentucky University. “Thirteen, but Teri’s lived here all her life.”
“You at least have squatter’s rights, especially since you teach at the high school. You know practically every family in town.”
It was true she felt at home in Leland, especially with her rich network of friends. But friends weren’t enough to fill the hole since her breakup.
“I love this place, Emmy. I know it’s just a wide spot in the road to some people, but it’s like New York City compared to where I came from. It’s friendly, it’s quiet. And we’ve got our own baseball team. All we need now is a busload of single lesbians under forty and we’re talking nirvana.”
“Look around, Ninah. People find each other. Could be the right person is somebody you’ve known for years, and one of these days it’s going to click. That’s what happened to me. Or maybe she’s with somebody else right now, but for whatever reason it doesn’t last.”
There was yet another possibility…but she couldn’t wait to get back to San Diego.
Chapter Seven
Britt tightened her grip on her father’s elbow as she noticed his hesitation. They were in the hospital’s stairwell, where he was practicing alternating feet as he went up and down. Stair climbing was one of the skills he’d have to master before his doctor would consider releasing him home, since his bedroom was on the second floor.
“You got it, Dad?”
“It’s harder than it feels.”
Harder than it looks? Despite his occasional odd word choices, most of what he said made sense if she took it in context. Moreover, his doctor was generally pleased with his mental assessment, though he was recommending at least two weeks at the rehab center to help recover his speech and motor skills.
“Once you get these stairs mastered, we’re going to strap a box on your shoulders. You can go up and down the bleachers hawking beer and peanuts.”
“Wish you could break me out of here for the game.”
“Dr. Dhawan thinks it’s too soon and I agree. We can’t risk you falling and landing on your head. Besides, you can’t stay awake long enough to watch a baseball game. They take forever.”
Fans who’d followed the Longdogs’ recent misfortunes would be thrilled to hear the team was back on solid financial footing and staying put in Leland. With JT looking over her shoulder, she’d dutifully signed the closing documents yesterday. All they were waiting for was formal recognition by the league office, expected by end of business today. Then she’d send out a press release announcing the change in ownership.
“So Dad, when were you going to tell me about the Longdogs? Or was this little brain stunt of yours all part of your master plan to get me back here?”
“I was gonna send you a first-pass ticket.” First class. “And take you with me to the ballpark. I wanted you to see for yourself what a good…”
A good opportunity? A good fit with her skills? As he seemed to search for the appropriate word, Britt contemplated whether to make suggestions or let his brain do the work.
“I planned on talking you into being my business partner. I can put you on the…so you can be a co-owner.” Clearly exhausted from the physical and mental effort, he shuffled to the door that would lead them from the stairwell. “But only if it’s what you want. I didn’t mean to dump it on you like this.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m not promising to stay forever, but I told JT I’d stick around till we got it off the ground, the first season for sure. That means you’ll have me under your feet for the whole summer.”
If she’d had any second thoughts about staying in San Diego, they were crushed last night by an email from the Regent Hotel, a form letter addressed to “Dear Applicant.” They’d chosen someone from their many excellent candidates. Thanked her for her interest. Wished her well in her career endeavors. Yada-yada.
So it was the Longdogs or bust.
Lucky for her, JT was right that minor league baseball actually had very little to do with baseball. She’d spent much of the last twenty-four hours in a deep dive on the Internet exploring what her new job would entail. Initial hopes that she could shuttle back to California when the season ended were dashed once she realized just how much there was to do in the off-season. Lining up vendors and sponsors, hustling for group ticket sales. Cultivating community relationships.
Then there was the event calendar, in which every single home game needed to have at least one hook. A theme night, a sponsor promotion, a contest, a special guest. Plus she needed to come up with an endless stream of audience participation activities to keep fans engaged between innings. Prizes, contests, giveaways. The challenge was figuring out what would resonate with Longdogs fans. To do that, she’d have to find a way to connect with Leland itself.
“JT should be calling any minute with the news,” she said as she helped her father back into bed. “And it better be good news, because I’ve already written the press release for tomorrow’s Gazette. JT confirmed that I’m your sole heir, by the way, so watch your back. I might decide to cash out.”
He barely managed a smile as sleep threatened to overtake him any second.
She tucked the sheet to his chin and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Love you.”
The decision to stay in Leland for a year or two triggered a cascade of steps needed to unwind her life in San Diego. First would be a call to her accountant to dissolve her LLC. There was no point in continuing to pay corporate license fees for a business she couldn’t sustain. Next she’d need to move her belongings into storage and convince her landlord to let her break the lease. And figure out how to get her car to Kentucky.
On the drive home, she placed a call to longtime friend Holly Burchard. She’d always felt a special connection with Holly, a Dayton native who’d headed west after college for a job with a biotech magazine. Like Britt, she worked at home with no boss to scold her for taking personal calls on the clock.
“Hey, how’s your dad?”
“A lot better. Thanks for asking. It’s possible he’ll get moved to a rehab center tomorrow. A couple of weeks there and he should be able to come home.”
“Fucking-A. Did you find out if he got the Phynox? Those are all the rage right now.” Leave it to Holly to be as interested in the manufacturer of the aneurysm clip as she was in the patient.
“All I know is it won’t set off the metal detector at the airport. Look, the reason I’m calling…this is really nuts.” No way was she telling her friends that her father had just sunk his retirement savings into a sports team and expect
ed a klutz like her to help run it. The jokes would never stop. “I won’t go into the gory details, but it turns out Dad signed on to a major business deal right before this brain thing hit. He can’t manage it right now, so I need to stick around and see it through so he won’t lose his investment. Not forever, but it could take a while to get the right people in place to run it. It’s a great opportunity, a lot of money up for grabs if we play our cards right. We’re talking millions.”
“Wow, what kind of business? Something to do with that book he wrote?”
“No, this is…” Oh, screw it, she thought. If she couldn’t talk to her best pal, who else was there? “Please don’t tell everybody this. They’ll laugh their asses off. He bought the minor league baseball team that plays here in Leland. Their mascot is a dachshund, but do they call themselves the Dachshunds? No, because the minor leagues are wacky. They’re called the Longdogs.”
“Oh. My. God. That’s fucking hysterical. Britt Iverson, the second coming of Marge Schott.”
Britt recalled the name. Schott was a former owner of the Cincinnati Reds, notorious for her bigoted remarks about minority players. After repeated offenses, the league finally forced her to sell the team.
“Don’t worry, Marge’s legacy is safe. I’ll be working mostly behind the scenes doing the stuff I’m actually good at. Once Dad gets back on his feet, he’ll be the public face of the team.”
“I read something on Bloomberg not long ago about minor league sports teams being the new collectible for billionaires. You could be sitting on a fucking gold mine, Britt.”
Three. Whenever they talked on the phone, Britt was in the habit of counting the number of times Holly used the word “fuck.”
“That’s what the lawyer says. This one needs a lot of work to build up the fan base, but once we get there…”
“How long are you talking about?”
“I don’t know, could be a year or two. Obviously I’m not thrilled about having to move back here, but I’ll be so busy I won’t even have time to think about it.” No, because she’d be thinking about San Diego, with its beaches, gardens, and canyons. “Who am I kidding? I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’d sooner take a running jump off the cliffs at La Jolla.”