The Lucky Ones
Page 23
She’d buried the lede—the biggest news of the year, even bigger than the change in ownership. Why had Britt kept such a critical secret from her? Ninah had an ominous feeling about the reason—because it was likely to bring rich offers for the team, offers Britt might find too tempting to pass up.
They left the field to rousing cheers, quieted soon by an invocation from the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church and Leland Middle School’s choir singing the national anthem.
“Leading off for the Atoms, shortstop Hector Ortega.”
Seven years. Britt’s goal all along had been to position the team for an extension. Now she had it. She’d laid a solid foundation—overhauling the vendors, signing sponsors to long-term contracts, filling the event calendar. Even if they didn’t sell right away, any halfway competent GM could build on that. She could have one foot out the door right this minute if she wanted.
Carly rose with what was left of her nachos and beer. “I should go help Justine play hostess so she can sit down for a few minutes. You need anything?”
“I’m good.”
Shaking off thoughts of Britt leaving, Ninah dutifully focused on the action on the field so she could record the score. Longdogs starting pitcher Ricky Robles had his curve ball going tonight, and he shut the Atoms down in order. Troy Cline led off the bottom half of the inning with a double down the left field line, ratcheting up an already excited home crowd.
Britt set two cups of beer on the counter in front of her and squeezed into the seat Carly had vacated. “Can anyone sit here or are you saving it for somebody special?”
“You look pretty special. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Ninah boldly gave her a peck on the lips, paying no heed to who might be watching. “You were terrific out there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked being the center of attention. Maybe next year you can be Banger.”
It sent a shudder to her stomach that Britt didn’t respond, not even a smile. Was it the mention of next year?
“So…a seven-year extension?” She gently poked Britt’s shoulder, hoping to break the tension. “You’d think something so important would have slipped out during pillow talk.”
“I didn’t know for sure till this morning. JT’s been handling the negotiations since June, but none of us expected it to go through this year.”
“I can’t imagine why anyone would be surprised. Look how much you’ve done, Britt. From day one you kept saying it could take two years, maybe three. Look at you, barely four months later. As my kids would say—goals.”
A sharp thud! drew their attention to the field, where Rolando Castillo was clutching his elbow after being hit by a pitch.
“It’s a bean ball! For taking one for the team, Rolando Castillo just earned himself a custom cuppa joe and pastry at The Bean. Get on down to The Bean on Main Street for your own pick-me-up, fixed just the way you like it. That’s The Bean, the Official Coffee of the Longdogs.”
As the crowd cheered its approval, Carly whooped and slapped hands with everyone within reach. It was just one of many hooks Britt had dropped into the ballpark experience for fans and sponsors, quirky tie-ins that brought a chuckle and boosted the local community. With her zany theme nights and fan contests, she’d mastered the atmosphere of the minor leagues, delivering exactly what she’d promised—a fun night out for the whole family.
Batting third for the Longdogs, shortstop Malik Terry laid down a beauty of a bunt that was bobbled by Oak Ridge’s hard-charging first baseman, an error that loaded the bases with no outs.
“Now at the plate for the Longdogs, third baseman…Ossscar Lopez!”
“Ninah, what’s wrong?”
The question jarred her from her thoughts. Clearly she was the only one in the stadium not caught up in the anticipation of Oscar knocking one out of the park.
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s all great, in fact. I keep thinking that you’ve done practically everything you set out to do, which means theoretically…” She stopped herself, not wanting to have what was sure to be an emotional conversation in front of a dozen people.
“It means we could put the team up for sale tomorrow, or I could hire a new GM to take over operations.” Britt shifted sharply in her chair and leaned closer, giving them a modicum of privacy. “If I wanted to, that is.”
Ninah was afraid to read too much into that, but Britt’s twinkling eyes gave her reason to hope. Before she could elaborate, a thunderous crack! brought the entire stadium to its feet.
They looked up to see a towering shot clear the fence in right center, a grand slam, and Oscar’s thirty-fifth homer as a Longdog. The crowd cheered him long after he crossed home plate, urging him out of the dugout to take a bow.
“I was about to explain,” Britt said, “but Oscar said it better than I could.”
“You’ve become a baseball fan. I knew it! This game gets in your blood.”
“It’s been a great year. Look at these fans—they’re having a blast. But you know what keeps me up nights? Worrying about next year when Oscar and Cory and the other guys are gone. We were lucky to have talent like this for a season, and Boomer too, but what happens when the Dogs are mediocre again, or worse?”
Attendance would probably fall off, but Ninah had faith that Britt knew how to bring people out to the ballpark anyway. Or have her GM do it.
After a pitching change for the Atoms, the next three batters were retired in order. That did little to dampen the buzz over Oscar’s homer and the Longdogs’ four-run lead.
“I understand now what you guys have been saying all along, Ninah. It’s not just about baseball.” Britt gestured with a hand over her chest. “I could feel it when I was standing out there talking about Ike and Emmy. There’s so much more to this job than selling hot dogs and billboards. The Longdogs are a cornerstone of the community. We can’t waste that. We have a responsibility to bring people together, whether they’re gay or straight, black or white, Mexican or Japanese.”
“Christian or atheist?”
Britt laughed. “Especially that. But we aren’t there yet. That’s what I’ve come to realize, that the Longdogs will always be one bad season away from ruin unless they’re thoroughly knitted into the fabric of Leland. I need to stay here and make that happen.”
It all sounded too good to be true. “Is there a catch?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Britt. I’m thrilled if this means you’re staying, but only if it’s what you really want. Nothing’s more important to me than you being happy. If you can be happy here, I’m over the moon. But if you aren’t…say the word and I’ll pack my bags. I mean that, because I’m not gonna lose you.”
“No, you’re not.” Britt raised her cup for a toast. “Because a wise woman once told me, happiness isn’t about where you are. It’s about who you’re with. All I really need to be happy is you.”
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