The DH

by John Feinstein

  “You feeling okay today?” Max Bellotti asked.

  “Much better,” Matt said. “I know you guys saw Coach Birdy’s text. I just talked to him, and he told me that Billy really is out of serious danger. Almost as important, he also told me that Billy is willing to see me this afternoon.”

  “Wow,” Jonas said. “His parents are going to allow that, with all the legal stuff they’re threatening?”

  Matt smiled. “They said their lawyer had to be in the room. So my lawyer is going to be in the room too.”

  “Really?” Alex said, surprised.

  “His plane lands at two o’clock. He’s renting a car and picking me up here. He said to tell you he’d like to see you for a couple minutes before we leave. He’s going to stay overnight.”

  Alex was a little miffed that his dad hadn’t let him know he was coming to town. Matt read his mind.

  “He also said to tell you that this just came up this morning and he’d have texted you but he knows you can’t have your cell phone on at school.”

  “How’d you get in touch with him?” Alex asked.

  Matt smiled. “I snuck outside with my phone after Coach Birdy told me what the deal was. Your dad answered right away. He’s been amazing, Alex. It means a lot to me.”

  It meant a lot to Alex too. Still, looking at his phone—which was allowed during lunch—he wished there was a text from his dad.

  As soon as French class ended, Alex walked toward the parking lot with Christine—who had never met his father. Matt was already there, and so was his father, both standing by the rental car. Alex introduced Christine.

  “Very nice to finally meet you,” Dave Myers said, shaking hands with Christine. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Christine reddened a little bit at the comment, then said, “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

  Then, realizing how that must have sounded, she quickly added: “Matt’s filled us in on how great you’ve been these last couple of days.”

  Alex’s dad looked at his watch. “We’d better get going, Matt,” he said. “Don Pollock asked us to try to be there by three.”

  “Who’s Don Pollock?” Alex asked.

  “The Twardziks’ lawyer. I actually tried a case against him a few years ago. He’s a good guy.”

  “Is he a good lawyer?” Christine asked.

  “Very good.”

  Seeing the look of concern cross Alex’s and Christine’s faces, Dave Myers put up a hand. “What that means is, I feel confident we can reason with him. If the Twardziks had hired some ambulance chaser looking to make a buck, that would be much worse. Don will look at this reasonably. Plus, now that it’s starting to seem like Billy’s going to be fine, that makes the idea of some kind of financial settlement much less likely.”

  “Can they file criminal charges?” Christine asked.

  “In theory, the district attorney still can, yes,” Dave Myers said. “It’s happened in professional hockey in the past. But if it’s happened in high school baseball, I’ve never heard about it. They can make a case that Matt was careless and hotheaded, but they’d have a very hard time making a case that he intended to injure Billy.”

  That was a relief to Alex—and, judging by the look on his face, to Matt too.

  “Let’s go, Matt,” Alex’s dad said. “We need to get to Penn. And, Alex, you need to get to practice. I understand you’ve got a game to pitch tomorrow.”

  Alex had almost forgotten about baseball practice and about the next day’s game against Lincoln. He had completely forgotten about Coach Birdy’s request that he throw over the weekend. Tuesday’s game had been about the last thing on his mind.

  “Let us know how it goes,” Christine said.

  “You two will be the first,” Matt said, getting in the car. “If there’s time, Alex, I’ll come back to practice.”

  “I will too,” Alex’s dad said. “I’m not flying back until tomorrow. Unless you two object, your mom said it was okay if I take you and Molly to dinner.”

  Three days ago, Alex’s response to that suggestion would probably have been, No thanks. Why don’t you go to dinner with Megan?

  Now he smiled and said, “Sounds great, Dad.”

  When Alex got to the locker room, the mood was somber. The team hadn’t been together since the previous Wednesday because of the long weekend, and Matt’s absence—and the reason for it—seemed to weigh on everyone.

  “Still no official word on his suspension, I guess,” Jonas said as he and Alex walked in the direction of the field.

  “They have to say soon,” Alex said.

  “Maybe, if Twardzik’s really okay, they won’t suspend him,” Jonas said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t believe what he was saying.

  “Five games,” Alex predicted. “It’ll be five games.”

  It didn’t take long for him to find out that his prediction was off the mark—by a lot.

  “Everyone grab a seat in the dugout,” Coach Birdy said after they had stretched and warmed up for a few minutes. They all sat on the bench or the dugout steps, and Coach Birdy stood in front of them, his hands on the railing that protected the bench from foul balls.

  “I just got word from the conference on Matt a few minutes ago,” he said. By the look on his face, Alex knew it wasn’t good news. Coach Birdy paused, took a deep breath, and shook his head.

  “Matt’s been suspended for the rest of the season,” he said finally.

  “Wha—?”

  “No!”

  “Impossible!”

  “Are they kidding?”

  The players were all protesting angrily at once, in part because the punishment was so harsh, in part because they felt bad for Matt, and in part because they realized that without Matt their hopes of a winning season had probably gone out the window.

  Coach Birdy put up a hand.

  “I know. I know what you’re all thinking,” he said. “I think it’s unfair too. But the guy I talked to on the phone a few minutes ago said that Matt’s past was factored into the decision. In fact, the guy told me there’s some feeling that Matt’s reaction might have been caused by ’roid rage.”

  “But he’s tested for steroids twice a week!” Alex said. “That’s impossible!”

  Coach Birdy nodded.

  “I know, Alex. That’s what I told the guy—that he’s tested clean for months now. But he didn’t seem to care. He just said, ‘Well, he can appeal to the state high school association if he wants to, but my guess is they’re pretty upset with him after they shortened his penalty already so he could play baseball this spring and this is what they get in return.’ ”

  Alex was exasperated. And angry. Five games, sure. But they had thirteen games left to play—plus the rest of the Haverford Station game, whenever the conference decided it should be completed. Matt didn’t deserve this.

  “What happens now, Coach?” Jeff Cardillo asked.

  “Two things,” Coach Birdy said. “They have to officially let Matt know their decision. He can then file a protest if he wants. And, second, we have a game tomorrow to get ready for. Myers, you’re starting. Go throw on the sidelines—but not too much or too hard. We’re going to need some innings from you.” He didn’t ask if Alex had thrown over the weekend.

  He looked at all of them for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to say anything else. Apparently the answer was no.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and slowly, with very little spring in their steps, they all stood up and took the field for practice. To Alex, it felt like an empty exercise. The season might as well be over.

  Alex’s dad and Matt showed up shortly after five, just as practice was wrapping up.

  It was pretty clear from the look on Matt’s face that Coach Birdy hadn’t yet told him about the suspension. He was smiling—really smiling—and Alex realized that it had been a while since he’d seen him smile like that.

  As soon as Coach Birdy saw his suspended star and his lawyer approaching, he waved everyo
ne in from the field. They gathered around, knowing without being told that there was news. Alex’s dad delivered it.

  “The lawsuit’s over—or, more accurately, will never start,” he said, which drew cheers from everyone. “Matt spent some time with Billy while his lawyer and I went and had a talk. Billy knows how sorry Matt is about what happened, and his lawyer knows there isn’t much of a case. His parents were upset—understandably—last week. I thought they might be looking for some kind of settlement, but that wasn’t it. They were just angry.”

  “They still are, actually,” Matt put in, picking up the story. “But Billy told them he just wants to get better and try to play again before the season’s over. He doesn’t want this to drag on. He’s a good guy. If he’s back when we play them again, I hope we get far enough ahead that I can groove a pitch to him so he can hit one out.”

  There was silence when Matt made that comment. He looked around, sensing that something was wrong. He looked at Coach Birdy.

  “The suspension?”

  Coach Birdy nodded. “I hate to tell you about this now, Matt, I really do, but I just told the guys.”

  “And?” Matt said. “More than five games?”

  More silence. Alex could tell Coach Birdy didn’t even want to say the words. “It’s the season, Matt,” he said, then paused. “I’m really sorry. We can appeal, but—”

  “The season?” Matt screamed. “The whole season? But he’s okay! The doctor said he might play again in a couple weeks. The surgery worked. There shouldn’t be any lingering after-effects. I talked to the doctor myself!”

  Coach Birdy nodded. “I hear you, Matt,” he said. “We’ll get the doctor to put that in writing for the appeal. I promise.”

  Matt’s smile, so wide a moment ago, was completely gone. His eyes were glistening.

  “I gotta go,” he said.

  “I’ll give you a ride home,” Alex’s dad said to Matt. Then he turned to Alex. “I’ll call you later.”

  Alex just nodded. Jeff Cardillo’s voice reminded him that the entire team was standing there staring after Matt: “Hey, fellas, let’s bring it in. We still have a game tomorrow.”

  He put his arm up as everyone huddled around him.

  “Win one for Matt!” he yelled.

  They all put their arms in and repeated what he had said. As they put their arms down and started to walk slowly to the locker room, Alex saw Christine standing to the right of the dugout.

  “When did you get here?” he asked.

  “Just as Matt was leaving,” she said. “I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just shook his head and kept going. What happened?”

  Alex filled her in—first the good news, then the bad news.

  “Well, you guys can win one for him,” she said finally, having witnessed the team’s cheer. “The problem will be the twelve after that.”

  She was right, Alex thought. As usual, she was right.

  Alex had just finished dinner and was about to go upstairs to do some homework when the phone in the kitchen rang. His mom answered, and Alex could tell right away that it was his dad.

  “I’ll ask them,” he heard her say finally.

  She turned to Alex and Molly, who was clearing her plate, and said: “Your dad just now finished with Matt and his mom. He’s sorry about dinner, but he would like to take you guys out for some ice cream. How do you feel about that?”

  Alex looked at Molly. He had filled both Molly and his mom in on the events of the day during dinner.

  “My homework is done,” Molly said. “It’s up to Alex.”

  Alex’s homework wasn’t done. “How soon can he get here?” he asked.

  His mom repeated the question and said, “Fifteen minutes.”

  Alex nodded. “Okay, then.”

  Exactly fifteen minutes later, their dad was on the doorstep. Their mom opened the door, with Alex and Molly both standing there. She smiled at her ex-husband-to-be and said, “No pressure, Dave, but you need to have them back here in an hour. Alex still has homework to do.”

  “There’s a Friendly’s that the GPS says is about seven minutes from here,” Dave Myers said. “I’ll have them back by eight-thirty.”

  Alex didn’t even know there was a Friendly’s anywhere close to their house. In Boston, they’d gone to Friendly’s all the time. He loved the Fribbles.

  When they got there, Alex ordered a vanilla and Molly asked for a chocolate. Their dad ordered an ice cream cone—just like he always had in the old days.

  They sat in a booth near the back, and Alex and Molly waited expectantly.

  “First, I owe you both an apology, an unqualified one, for what happened Friday,” their dad said. “That was a new low for me—lying to my kids.

  “The good news is that it was a wake-up call. I’ve done a lousy job dealing with this separation and the divorce. Your mom has had to be two parents for the last nine months, and that’s on me.”

  He looked at Alex and smiled. “I’m not going to promise to do better because I know you don’t want to hear that again. But here’s what I did tell Megan before I came down here: You two are my number one priority going forward. I told her she had to deal with taking a backseat and that didn’t mean I didn’t love her, I just owe you guys a lot better father than you’ve had since last July.”

  “How’d she take that?” Alex asked.

  Their dad smiled. “Not especially well.”

  “How ‘not especially well’?” Molly asked before Alex could ask the same question.

  Dave Myers took a big bite out of his cone, then sighed.

  “Well, we’ve postponed any wedding plans,” he said. “In fact, we’re taking a break.”

  Alex felt a chill—a thrilled chill—run through him. He knew that “taking a break” in a relationship at forty-one was a lot different from taking a break at fourteen. When adults decided to take a break, it usually meant the relationship was over. Still, he wasn’t about to say that. He didn’t need to—Molly did.

  “Dad!” she said. “You broke up!”

  “Molly, do you have to sound so happy?” Dave Myers asked, not denying that his daughter was right. He was smiling when he said it, clearly not angry.

  “But did you break up?” Alex asked.

  Their father sighed again. “Probably,” he said. “I mean, the door’s still open….”

  “Dad, why her?” asked Molly, never one to hold back. “I mean, what were you thinking? She’s so…”

  “Horrible,” Alex filled in.

  Their dad either smiled or grimaced—Alex wasn’t sure which—and put up a hand to fend them off.

  “Look, kids, I understand why you feel that way,” he said. “Megan wasn’t at her best the couple of times you met her. I think she was probably trying too hard.”

  “Oh, come on, Dad,” Alex said. “She’s a snob. She’s a phony. She wears too much makeup, and she wanted nothing to do with your kids.”

  “You aren’t wrong about that, Alex,” he said. “Look, when you guys left town last year, I was lonely—really lonely. And she was…”

  “Available?” Molly said.

  “Yes, available. And I did not have a relationship with her before your mom and I separated. I know that’s crossed your minds, but it’s not true. She pushed hard for us to be engaged, and I went along. That was a mistake.

  “What happened last week made me take a step back. Actually, it was your mom who kind of brought me back to my senses. She said, ‘Dave, you lied to your children. How could you do that?’ She was right. So I apologize, not just for Friday but for the last nine months.”

  Alex felt as if a hole in his heart had just been stitched up. Molly must have felt the same way because her face was shining with happiness.

  “So why don’t you get back together with Mom?” she suggested. “You’re still married. It’s not too late.”

  Dave Myers shook his head. “It is too late, Moll. I’m sorry,” he said. “Remember, it was your mom who decided we s
hould separate. I wanted to give it a little longer, but she felt the time was up.”

  Alex didn’t remember that because—he was pretty certain—he had never known that.

  “I thought the two of you decided together,” he said.

  “By the time we told you two, we had decided together,” he said. “But it was your mom’s idea, and honestly, she was right. We still love each other, but we stopped being in love.”

  Alex understood the difference. He wondered if Molly did. Apparently there was no reason to wonder.

  “Dad, don’t be in such a rush to be in love again,” she said.

  Dave Myers leaned forward in his chair and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “Moll, when did you become a grown-up?” he asked.

  “When you and Mom split up,” Molly said, looking at Alex for confirmation. “We didn’t have much choice.”

  Alex was happy to learn that his dad was going to help Matt put his appeal together.

  “I’m going to meet Matt and Coach Birdy for breakfast in the morning,” he said. “I’ve got a flight out at noon, but I’ll be back whenever they hear Matt’s appeal. We’ll have to go to Harrisburg, but I’ll pick him up and drive him there.”

  That all sounded good to Alex. He wasn’t ready to think he had his dad back, but the last few days had been encouraging. And the fiancée was gone! That alone was reason to celebrate.

  Matt showed up at the lunch table the next day looking a little bit grim. Alex had already told Jonas and Max and Christine about the appeal.

  “How’d it go?” Alex asked.

  “Your dad is going to put it all together in the next day or so,” Matt said. “The goal is to file the appeal by Friday so they’ll hear it sometime next week.”

  “What are you going to ask for?” Jonas said.

  “Time served,” Matt said. “By the time they hear it, I will have missed three games—maybe four if they don’t get to it until next Friday. Alex’s dad says ask for the moon and hope for the best, so that’s what we’re doing.”

  He smiled and turned to Alex. “You ready to carry us for a while, Goldie?”