Painting the Corners

by Bob Weintraub

  “You look terrific,” he told her, giving the word the best sound he could, and meaning it.

  “So do you,” she replied. “Come on, it’s my treat.” Michelle turned toward the dining room and he followed her.

  Lunch was fun. They reminisced about a number of things and laughed a lot. But when they began talking about Wayne Lancaster over the piece of chocolate mousse cake they shared for dessert, it turned serious.

  “I liked Wayne. I played for the man for thirteen years and never once heard a bad word from him. Even when I didn’t report for spring training last year because he wouldn’t pay me what I wanted, he treated it like just another piece of business, nothing personal.”

  “If that’s what you really think, Gregg, you didn’t know my uncle at all.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he hated you for disrupting the team the way you did.”

  “Then he should have been willing to give me what I was worth,” he shot back.

  “Wait a second. Let me finish,” she said.

  He told her to go ahead, and took the napkin from his lap to wipe the corners of his mouth.

  “Wayne thought the Royals would be the best team in the division last year. When the season was over, he was convinced that we would have finished in first place if you’d been at training camp. You could have taken your time and worked yourself into shape the way you always did. But by the time you agreed to a contract, April was almost over and you’d already missed five starts.”

  “Four starts,” he interrupted.

  “Four or five, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “You probably hurt your arm because you rushed to get yourself in shape after you signed. You weren’t ready to throw 125 pitches your second time out. So instead of giving the club the twelve to fifteen wins everyone was counting on, you wound up going eight and ten and the team finished four games out of first.” Michelle put her palms up against the edge of the table and pushed her chair back to give herself more room.

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  “For the moment.”

  “Well, it was his own fault. Wayne knew what other guys with my numbers were making around the league but he wouldn’t pay it to me without a fight. If he had treated me right — ”

  “Please, Gregg.” Michelle’s eyes narrowed and she raised her voice slightly for the first time. “He couldn’t guarantee you eleven million dollars for three years. This is Kansas City, for Chrissake, not New York. Your salary would have been thirteen percent of the payroll that was budgeted for the entire team.”

  “I was worth it. You’re forgetting one little thing. I won 244 games for his club.”

  “That’s right, you did. But you would have done a lot better with what he offered you at the beginning than with the one-year deal you finally took. You’d have been out there pitching this year and getting the last four victories you needed to be a 300-game winner. Instead, you’re not playing for anyone. And I’m sure it’s killing you inside.”

  Talbot began tapping his left foot against the rounded base of the table. Now he had to ask her the question he’d thought about many times. “Is that why Wayne released me in the winter?”

  “Of course it is,” she told him. “He could never forgive you for ruining the best chance he ever had of seeing the team win the American League pennant and playing in the World Series. Do you realize how long this town has gone without a winner?” Michelle didn’t have to answer her question. It was enough that they both knew Gregg hadn’t played on a first place team in his entire Kansas City career.

  She looked hard into his eyes when she continued. “Wayne knew he didn’t have a lot of time left to live. He understood that for him it was last year or never. He let you go after the season because he didn’t want you to have a chance to reach 300.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Michelle. He knew that any other club could have picked me up.”

  She smiled at him, but didn’t answer right away. She wanted his words to hang in the air, for him to think about what he had just said.

  “Sure they could,” she replied finally, “but they didn’t, did they?”

  Gregg picked up a teaspoon. He held the two ends between the thumb and forefinger of both his hands for several seconds, as if he were going to try and bend it. Instead, he let go of the bottom and rapped the spoon several times, easily, against the black-colored rim of his half-empty coffee cup.

  “And do you know why they didn’t?” she continued. “Do you really believe it’s because you won only eight games last year? You’re kidding yourself if you think your record had anything to do with it.” She hesitated again, waiting for him to finish playing with the spoon and look straight at her. “It’s because Wayne Lancaster asked every club in both leagues not to go near you. And Wayne had done too much for baseball and the other owners over the years for anyone to say ‘no’ to him on something like that. So here you are, having lunch with me, instead of in some ballpark getting ready for your next start.”

  Gregg put down the spoon, took a sip of coffee, and sat back in his chair. “Is that why we’re here today, so you could let me know all this? Is it something Wayne made you promise to do on his deathbed?” Gregg realized he had raised his voice and that his remarks had caught the attention of the couple dining at the table closest to them. He waited for them to resume their own conversation and paused a few seconds longer before finishing his thought. “Revenge from beyond the grave, huh?”

  “No,” she answered, “this meeting isn’t about you and Uncle Wayne. I just thought you should know the story once it came up. Maybe you’ve been blaming your agent for not finding you a spot on another club. But he never had a chance. No, this little soiree is all about Wayne Lancaster and his only niece, yours truly.”

  Her answer caught him off guard. He’d been prepared to continue defending himself, to reject the blame for what had happened to the team, when suddenly the attack was over. He felt as if there should be some sort of an interlude before going into what Michelle wanted to discuss, like having the waiter bring cool sorbet to the table between the appetizer and the main course. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Okay, what’s the problem?” he asked.

  “I’m tempted to give you the bottom line first, but it might scare you right out of here if I did, so I won’t.” She smiled at him, but he could sense how nervous she had suddenly become.

  “After Wayne lost Loretta and I came to work for the team, he used to tell me every so often that he wanted me to have control of the Royals when he died or retired to his place in Arizona. He insisted that I work in every department and learn every little detail about how the club operates. And I did. Then he made me vice president.”

  Gregg interrupted. “I remember the party he threw for everyone on the club in the press room when that happened.” he said. “I also remember that I kissed you on the cheek when I congratulated you. It was the first time.”

  Michelle could feel herself blushing, but continued talking. “The title was an excuse for his letting me sit in on meetings he had with his general manager, first Woody Marshall, and then Don Aikens when Woody moved to the Dodgers. Wayne wanted me to know what was going on when contract negotiations with the players were being discussed. And he took me with him whenever he attended an owners’ meeting. He told me to smile at everyone and listen carefully to everything that was said. Afterwards, he’d ask me a lot of questions and make sure I understood where each of the club owners was coming from. Believe me, after all the training I got, I know how to run a ball club, even without a degree from business school. So when Wayne’s illness became serious, I expected to take charge as soon as he died.”

  “I thought you did,” Gregg said. “I thought you’ve been the boss since May.”

  “Most people think so, but the truth is that I’m not. That little detail has never been given out to the press.”

  “Then who is running things?” he asked.

 
“I’m getting to that, Gregg. It all happened in a certain order.”

  “Okay,” he said. He nodded his head, waiting for her to go on.

  “Right after the funeral, Wayne’s lawyer met with me and showed me a letter Wayne had dictated and signed just a few weeks earlier.”

  He interrupted again. “Do you trust the guy?”

  “Of course I do,” she said immediately. “It’s nothing like that. Herb Collins has handled all of Wayne’s affairs for years. His firm is the third largest in the city and Collins is one of the main reasons for it. He’s a marvelous person and the most distinguished-looking lawyer you’ve ever seen. Right out of central casting. Anyway, the letter said that three trustees would be responsible for actually running the club as soon as Wayne couldn’t do it anymore, and that there were further instructions I would hear about as soon as his will was probated.”

  “Did you know the trustees?”

  “Yes. He had simply chosen Herb Collins, plus his banker and his accountant.”

  Gregg waited to see if she was going to say anything negative about the men or the arrangement. He was satisfied from the silence that followed that she had no such intention. “What next?” he asked.

  “What next is that a couple of months later Mr. Collins took me to lunch and read me the stuff in Wayne’s will.”

  “And?”

  “I’ll get to that in a second. First, there’s one other thing you’ve got to know to understand all this. Wayne was always teasing me about getting married. He wanted me to hurry up and find a husband and have kids. He was bigger on that subject than my own mother and father. I used to think that maybe my folks were telling him to keep up the pressure on me because they couldn’t do it often enough from New Orleans, where they live.” Michelle smiled. “Wayne made a point of introducing me to every eligible bachelor at the meetings we attended. He certainly tried to help me find a man.”

  Michelle excused herself and reached down next to her chair for her pocketbook. She took out a tissue, sniffled a couple of times, and dabbed at her nose. “And now we come to the bottom line. Are you ready?”

  “I guess so,” he answered. And then added quickly, “I hope so.”

  “Well, Uncle Wayne didn’t want to tell me this himself while he was alive, but the will gives me exactly 30 months from the time he died to have a child or lose control of the team for good.”

  There was a short silence. Gregg mouthed his answer silently before speaking the word. “Wow,” he said.

  “The biggest ‘wow’ of my life,” she answered. “But that’s how strongly he felt about me having a family, and I guess he figured a 36-year-old woman needed a man-sized shove in the right direction. I’m still vice president, and I can give my advice on what ought to be done, but any decision that Wayne would have made before gets made by the three trustees right now.”

  Gregg looked puzzled. He continued staring at Michelle without saying anything, then picked up his cup and slowly sipped some coffee. As soon as he put it down, Michelle reached for her water glass. They each shifted position in their seats. Gregg cocked his head to the side when he finally spoke.

  “And now you want to know if there’s some guy I — ”

  “I want to know if you’d be willing to father my baby.”

  As soon as the words spilled out, Michelle rested both elbows on the table and put her hands together under her chin. It was almost as if she were saying a quick prayer. She looked at Gregg, waiting for him to answer.

  “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  His question moved her to sit up again, and she answered right away. Her voice was a little out of control.

  “I’ve got to have a child, Gregg, because I’d be devastated if I lost the Royals. In all honesty, you’re one of several good candidates I could ask, but you’re the only one I can do a big favor for in return.” She was talking very quickly, hoping she could finish what she had to say without crying. “There’s two ways of doing it, you know. There’s the regular way, or you could just give your sperm to my doctor at the right time and he’ll do the rest. Either way is fine by me. Actually, the second way is probably better because I don’t want you to think for a second that you’d have to be a father to the baby when it comes. No involvement necessary. I’m not trying to change your life, just mine.”

  A few tears began rolling down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “I mean that,” she went on. “You’d have no emotional or financial responsibility at all. We can put that in writing, and I’ll pay for both lawyers. The baby never has to know who its father is. I’m asking a lot, and it’s not easy for me to do, but at least you know why.”

  His first impulse, after taking it all in, was to get her to relax. He could see that the floodgates of her eyes were ready to open. “I’ve already got a pretty full schedule this afternoon,” he said. “And tonight there’s a James Bond doubleheader on TV I don’t want to miss.” He followed up with a sly grin.

  It worked. Michelle took a deep breath and let herself ease back in her chair. “Thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”

  “And I thought Wayne had been tough on me. I guess he saved his best for last.”

  “I can’t be angry with him, Gregg. My mother was his only sibling and I don’t have any sisters or brothers. When Randy died in the car accident, it was too late for Loretta to have any more children. So Wayne saw me as the only way of keeping the family going. I guess now I know why he teased me as much as he did and how strongly he felt about it.”

  “Look, Michelle, I’m flattered, or whatever the right word is, for your asking me. Let me have a couple of days to think it through. I’ll either do it or I won’t on just what you told me. You don’t have to return any favors.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “You were a terrific listener, Gregg.”

  “But just so I don’t lose any sleep over it, what is it you had in mind?”

  Michelle moved in close to the table and put her right hand on his. “Are you still interested in joining the 300 club?”

  “Only if it won’t cost me more than an arm and a leg.”

  She spoke slowly and deliberately. “If I run this team, and you can still pitch, you’ll get the chance for those four more wins.” Her words had an immediate effect. He smiled broadly, and she smiled back at him. “We could both be celebrating next season if we get started early enough,” she said.

  * * *

  When Gregg agreed to father Michelle’s baby — the natural way — he insisted that they start dating like any other couple and let nature take its course. If anything, the certainty of where they were heading in the relationship made each of them uncomfortable at the start. It wasn’t until they had spent several more evenings together, at dinner, at a Lyric Theater production of “Hello Dolly,” and dancing themselves into a sweat at “Nirvana,” Kansas City’s rock and roll palace, that they made love for the first time. After that, they looked forward to being together as often as they could.

  Michelle watched carefully for any sign of pregnancy, but none appeared. She made certain to be with Gregg during her most fertile periods. The disappointment that followed the first three months of their courtship made her wonder whether her biological clock had simply wound down earlier than it should have. It was like setting the alarm to go off at six in the morning for the most important appointment of her life and then sleeping way past the time because the battery in the clock lost its power in the middle of the night.

  And then suddenly, with Christmas just a week away, her body began letting her know that something was going on. She bought a home pregnancy kit at the drugstore and watched the patch of blue appear on the paper strip, giving its positive reading. She scheduled a hurry-up appointment with her doctor, had a blood test in his office that confirmed the results, and called Gregg with the good news early that evening.

  “Hey, that’s terrific,” he hollered into the phone. “I’m going to be a daddy. I’ll pick up a
bottle of champagne and be right over.”

  Michelle wasn’t sure whether there was some rule about not having any alcohol at all. Her doctor, escorting her out through a crowded waiting room, had promised to give her a whole list of “do’s and don’ts” when he saw her again on the Monday morning after the holiday. She told Gregg to pour only a few drops in her glass. They toasted her new condition and kissed.

  “When is it due?” he asked, joining her on the sofa.

  “The doctor’s not sure yet. Right now it looks like any time after September first.” She gave him a big smile.

  Gregg reached over and patted her stomach. “That could be a little late in the season for me to get a chance for those four big ones. You tell Junior here not to stall for time.”

  Michelle made a Greek salad and some scrambled eggs for dinner. Gregg had two more glasses of champagne while she ground up some decaf coffee beans and heated a half cup of milk for a cafe au lait. Later on, after they cleaned up in the kitchen, he suggested that their celebration include some lovemaking. Michelle declined.

  “I’m just too tired from all the excitement,” she said, “and I’ve got some things to do before I go to New Orleans on Thursday.”

  “Are you going to let your folks know you’re pregnant?”

  “And spoil Christmas for them? No way.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “Sunday night.”

  “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

  “No, it’s okay, Gregg. I’ve already arranged the round-trip with a cab. You’d just get stuck in a lot of traffic both ways.”

  He knew she was right. “Then I’ll probably see you Monday.” He leaned over and kissed her, first on the lips and then just above each eye. “You take good care of our little bundle.”

  Michelle waited more than a week after her return from New Orleans before letting Gregg know how she felt. When he called on the Monday before New Year’s Day and wanted to come over, she told him she had picked up a cold while she was away and needed some rest. When he tried again on Wednesday, she said that she still had some last-minute paperwork to get ready for the club’s accountant before the end of the year. Gregg wanted to have dinner with her, or at least spend some time together during the long holiday weekend, but Michelle informed him that two former roommates from college were going to be staying with her the entire time.