Double Play (13 page)

“I
beg your pardon?”

“I
just want to teach poor women to read.”

“Sorry?”
said a male voice on the other end of the phone. “This is Bailey’s Cards. You
must have the wrong number…”

“You
sound like a reasonable guy,” said Halee. “What’s your name?”

“Marvin.”

“Hi,
Marvin. Can I ask you a question?”

“Um…I’m
kind of busy…”

“If
you fell in love with a woman, would you plan her engagement party?”

“Are
you marrying her?”

“It’s
a him.”

“I’d
hire a wedding planner. Too many details.”

“I’m
not marrying him. He’s marrying some bimbo who wears a red satin Wonderbra to
breakfast.”

“And
you need invitations.”

“I
need a life, Marvin. I have a baby who belongs to someone else, a boyfriend who
belongs to someone else; I live in an apartment that belongs to someone else…”

“Oh,
Dear.” Marvin sighed. “Come down to the shop, Honey. I’ll make you a cup of
tea. We’ll pick out the ugliest invitations in the book.”

***

Victoria
Pryor settled back inside her office, kicking back in the plush red leather
chair set behind an eight foot sheet of glass with nothing on it but a set of
monographed ivory pens and a stack of business cards. Gazing out onto the
skyline of Manhattan, she reached for her Blackberry and tapped out a number.

“You
think J.D. is stubborn,” she said, studying her nails, “you should try dealing
with Halee. I pity their children.”

Tony
King laughed in his usual disingenuous way. “You mean you pity whoever marries
their children. Is she on her way to the great state of Oklahoma?”

“Yes,
of course. She’s leaving Friday. You underestimate me, as always.”

“No
one underestimates you, my dear. At least not twice.”

Victoria
stared at her perfect manicure and smiled. “Are you stroking my ego?”

“For
starters.”

“Mmm.
How delightful. And when will you be serving the second course?”

“I’ve
made a reservation.”

“The
usual?”

“Your
favorite.”

“I’ll
be working late again.”

“I’m
counting on it.”

King
disconnected and tapped J.D.’s number. “Where are you?”

“With
the trainers. What’s up?”

“Your
mother’s been trying to reach you all day. Says it’s urgent.”

J.D.
snapped to attention. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“She
something about a ranch hand getting hurt. Said she needed you down there
pronto.”

J.D.
hesitated. “Sonofa…”

“Don’t
try to call her, either,” Tony added. “She said she won’t be home for a while.”

“Look,
Tony, I know it looks bad, me just starting and all…”

“Don’t
worry about a thing,” Tony reassured him. “Victoria knows all about it. Said to
take all the time you need.”

“I’ll
call you when I get there.” J.D. disconnected.

Tony
tossed his phone on his desk and leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Let the
fireworks begin.”

The
line through security at LaGuardia International Airport snaked out toward
ticketing, looping back on itself for what looked like a quarter mile. It
seemed like half the city of New York had the same idea to get away for the
weekend.  After five long days on the job and away from Ty, Halee just couldn’t
stomach the idea of leaving him behind while she flew off in search of J.D.’s
relatives. She’d sent Stephen and Cam off on their own weekend getaway, packed
two overnight bags, and called a cab. Thirty minutes later, after a wild cab
ride through New York rush hour traffic that resulted in Ty throwing up dinner on
her perfect white blouse and yanking her favorite necklace from her body, she
was beginning to question her decision.

Now
that they were faced with a long wait among a hundred other impatient New
Yorkers, Ty seemed to be getting his second wind. He fidgeted in Halee’s arms,
pushing off her chest in two directions, one frontward, one over her shoulder,
both intended to plummet like a Toy Story character head first toward the
concrete airport floor.  These escape attempts were consuming Halee’s full
attention and distracting her fellow travelers from a long, tedious wait, some
in a good way, some not so much. His protest screams hadn’t quite reached full
crescendo, but Halee knew a temper tantrum was imminent if she didn’t get him
to a place where he could get his knees on the ground. This kid had more energy
than she ever imagined a seven month old child could have. If he didn’t walk by
the time he was ten months old, he would surely blow out both knees on all his
trousers.

“Aren’t
you a busy little boy?” A woman with a gray jerry curl and flesh colored Velcro
shoes tickled Ty’s exposed belly. Ty reached both arms overhead and hurled his
full weight in a backward spiral, sending both him and Halee within several
inches of the hard floor. “They have leashes for children, you know,” said the
woman. “You just fasten one end around his waist and he gets a little freedom.
And Mom,” she said, eyeballing Halee’s wrinkled, stained  blouse in sympathy, “doesn’t
throw her back out trying to catch him.”

“He
isn’t walking yet,” said Halee.

“How
old?”

“Seven
months.”

“He’s
tall. Is his father tall?”

“I
don’t know who his father is,” said Halee.

The
woman raised a brow.

“He’s
not mine. I mean, he is, but… I’m trying to adopt him.”

“He
doesn’t look like he’s yours. I just thought maybe…you never know these days.
People are having children with everyone. Oh- we’re next.”

Halee
pulled a protesting Ty back into her arms and reached into her bag for her
ticket and identification.

The
TSA officer watched with an irritable look. “You had how long to get your
paperwork ready? Now you’re holding up the line.”

“Sorry,”
said Halee. “I thought it was right here.”

The
TSA agent shook his head. “Next in line.”

“She’s
almost ready,” protested the older woman. “Just give her a minute.”

A
young man in a designer suit shoved himself in front of Halee and sprinted
through the checkpoint. She spotted her stack of papers in her bag and
straightened with a smile. “Ready.”

The
TSA agent held out his hand without making eye contact. “Where are you going
today?”

“Oklahoma.”

The
agent sneered. “Why?”

“Well…”

“Rhetorical
question. This your kid?”

“No.
I mean, yes. I’m adopting him.”

“The
kid needs papers. I don’t suppose you can find them in fifteen minutes or less?”

“They’re
right here.”

The
agent scrutinized her temporary custody papers. “Aren’t you a little young to
be adopting?”

“Apparently
not,” mumbled Halee. She stuffed her papers and stamped boarding pass back into
her bag and wiggled out of her sweater. Ty had mercifully become enamored with
her gold drop earrings and was resting stationary on her left shoulder.
Balancing him there, she slipped out of her shoes, pulled a laptop out of one
of the overnight bags, extracted her makeup bag and managed to stack everything
in bins.

“God
knows what he’s doing, giving babies to the young,” said the old woman. “It’s a
miracle how you young people can bend.”

Halee
laughed.

“He’ll
keep you slim,” said the woman with a wink. “Good luck to you both.”

An
hour later Halee had managed to feed Ty a biscuit and some fruit and had laid
him on a thin changing blanket in the gate area with a bottle of milk she’d
convinced a Latino restaurant worker to warm for her in broken Spanish. She was
fast gaining appreciation for the ability to use the washroom whenever she felt
the urge. Knowing the limited size of an airplane lavatory, her best bet would
be to maneuver the one across from the gate before they started boarding. Too
late. They were calling for first class already.

“Come
on, Buddy.” Ty opened one eye lazily as she pulled him into her chest, and then
hoisted the two bags over one shoulder. Something between a groan and a song
was coming from his little throat as he sucked the warm milk from his bottle.
Halee couldn’t help but smile.

“Let
me help you with that.” She felt the weight of the bags lifted from her
shoulder and smiled up into a tan and weathered handsome face lightly salted
with faded red freckles. It was a face she’d seen many times on the cover of
news magazines.

“You
are…”

“Jack
Keeting,” said the handsome stranger. “I’ll handle your bags if you promise not
to tell anyone.”

“Who
you are or that you help women in need?”

Jack’s
pale green eyes brightened and the wrinkled corners lifted. “Either. On an
adventure?”

“Business,
actually.”

“With
the little tyke?”

“Separation
anxiety.”

“Him
or you?”

“Me.”

“Gotcha.”
They settled across the aisle from each other in first class. While the flight
attendant held Ty, Halee managed to change her shirt and visit the loo. On the
way back to her seat, she stole a closer look at Jack. Handmade cowboy boots
freshly shined, Rolex on a thin freckled arm. His legs were unnaturally long.
He looked stuck in his seat, even with the extra legroom. As luck would have
it, the seat next to hers remained unsold. As soon as they were airborne, she
fixed a safe bed for a slumbering Ty in the dimly lit cabin and pulled out a
magazine.

“You
again,” she said to Jack, pointing out his face on the cover.

“Shhh!
You promised.”

“No
company jet?”

“They
attract the paparazzi,” he whispered. “Easier to fade into the crowd this way.”
 He leaned a little closer. “What’s your m.o.?”

“Halee
McCarthy.” She leaned over to shake his hand. “I’m a professional fundraiser. I
work for Federals Charities in New York. Just started.”

Jack
nodded with obvious appreciation. “Good gig. And the child?”

“I’m
adopting him.”

Jack
glanced at her naked ring finger and raised his brows. “Alone?”

Halee
shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s
awfully brave.”

“Doesn’t
feel that way.”

“How
does it feel?”

Halee
stroked Ty’s little head for a minute. “Natural.”

Jack’s
face lit up in a warm smile. “That’s one lucky child.”

“How
about you? Any kids?”

“Two
boys, grown and gone. I married a beauty queen. Motherhood wasn’t natural for
her.”

“I’m
sorry.”

“Me
too. I should have had the sense to find someone like you. Beauty, brains and a
warm heart. Where are you staying?”

“I
don’t know exactly. Somewhere near Kadele.”

“Why
don’t you come out to the ranch with me? I could use the company.”

Halee
furrowed her brows. “Do you always pick up women on airplanes?”

Jack
looked thoughtful, almost sad. “No. But I’m glad I’m starting.”

“Thanks
for the offer. You’ll understand if I decline.”

“Can
I buy you a drink instead?”

“A
very dilute one,” said Halee. “I need all my wits to manage this little
firecracker.”

“Wine?”

“Sure.”

“White
or red?”

“Red.”

He
motioned to the flight attendant and waited till Halee had glass in hand. Then
he raised his own. “To motherhood and all the women who do it so well.”

“Don’t
rush to conclusions,” warned Halee. “This career thing could get in the way.”

“Federals,
huh? You have a new centerfielder to finish out the season. I hear he’s quite
the talent.”

“Yes,
he is.” Halee took a sip of wine and smiled, remembering the taste of J.D.’s wine
soaked lips on hers.

“Know
him?”

“Yes,
I do.”

“Shaw,
right?”

“Jonathan
Dillon Shaw. His friends call him J.D.”

“I
see I have a little competition.”

Halee
blushed. “What makes you say that?”

“Something
about you changed when I mentioned him.”

“You’re
very different people, I assure you.”

“Probably
not that different,” said Jack. “Men who excel in business or sports do so for
one reason. We’re all driven.” He smiled and studied her with a knowing look. “That
can be hard on the women who love us.”

Halee
laughed lightly and played with one earring, feeling a little like her soul was
on display.

“Aha.
Just as I suspected. Our young Shaw has struck gold. Don’t give up on him,
Halee McCarthy. Make him work as hard to make you happy as he has getting to
the major leagues.” Jack handed her his business card. “And if he breaks your
heart, look me up.”

***

Halee
tossed her overnight bags into the trunk of her rental car and punched Kadele,
Oklahoma into her GPS. By her calculations, Kadele was an hour’s drive from the
Tulsa airport. After that she was at a loss. Victoria’s directions showed Faye
Shaw’s address as a post office box and nothing else. She’d have to rely on the
friendliness of townsfolk to point her in the direction of Faye’s physical home.
And on the friendliness of Faye to answer the door.

Something
about this trip had Halee’s shackles raised. In her mind, there was no need to
arrive unannounced and coerce Faye Shaw into attending her son’s engagement
party. If J.D. wanted her at the party, he could invite her himself. A part of
Halee wanted to set up residence in a hotel in Tulsa, tell Victoria Pryor that
she’d come up empty handed, and head back on the early morning flight to New
York. The other part of her couldn’t resist investigating J.D.’s roots.

She
and Ty had found an upscale hotel on the edge of the airport just at the stroke
of midnight and had snuggled under the soft down comforter until the sun came
up. Day by day, she could see the change in her new baby. He no longer woke up
several times a night and when he cried, there was less desperation in his
voice. Whenever she walked into the room, he smiled as though he had always
been hers. Sometimes she couldn’t remember how she’d lived without him.

 After
a full hour of tickling and peek-a-boo and a makeshift breakfast of oatmeal and
fruit followed by a warm bottle of milk, he was once again ready to sit in a
car seat long enough for her to find J.D.’s home town. In fact, Ty seemed to be
enamored with the scenery flying by and by the time Halee pulled off the
interstate and onto the rural road leading to Kadele, he was cooing at the
fields of cotton and squealing in greeting at herds of cattle along the way.
“You’re a good traveler, young Ty,” said Halee from the front seat with more
than a little relief. “That’s going to work really well for your new mama.”

Kadele,
population 683, had no definite beginning or end. A Dairy Queen, a Pizza Hut
and a gas station interrupted a twenty mile stretch of reddish brown dust, which
in turn blended into a giant ball field complex complete with night lighting
and a fairground where, according to a huge sign, ranchers could bring their
livestock to sell on a weekly basis. On the backside of the ball field sat a low
stucco building marked as both the elementary school and town library. Halee
pulled into the post office/ hardware store combination and left the car
running.

A
string of bells attached to the door announced her arrival and prompted a
sleeping hound dog mix to sound off a three alarm yelp, sending her several
steps backward. The place was poorly lit and smelled like old tires and fresh
linseed oil. A heavy set man with three chins and no lap looked up briefly and
then did a double take. “Barney, heel!” he commanded.  He cleared his throat
and set his newspaper aside, smoothing what was left of his thinning blonde
hair. “May I help you, young lady?”

Halee
held out her hand for the dog to sniff, watching him carefully. He looked a
little rough around the edges, like he’d spent more time casing the Dairy Queen
dumpster than sitting by the fire.  “I’m looking for Faye Shaw.”

“I
expect she’s at home.”

Halee
nodded, glancing back at Ty talking to his toes in the running car. “I don’t
know where that is.”

The
man took his time inspecting her silk sweater, then her rental car, making up
his mind about her. The dog retreated to a worn out mat at the back of the
store, disappointed by another false alarm. Halee let her eyes roam the shelves
of Monty’s Hardware and tried to picture a young J.D. in this town.

“That
your youngin?”

“Yes.”

“Take
up with a colored boy, did ya?”

Halee
straightened her spine. “Like I said, I’m looking for Faye Shaw.”

“I
ain’t seen you around these parts.”

And
you won’t again
, thought Halee to herself. “I work for the New York Federals,”
she said more firmly. “I need to talk with Mrs. Shaw about J.D.”

“I
guessed as much,” said the man in a matter of fact tone. “He in some kind of
trouble? J.D. always had a penchant for trouble…”