Chapter Twenty-Eight: Back to Chicago

Sosa and Sandberg sat by Maddie’s suitcase and whimpered. She bent down and scratched each dog behind the ears. They nuzzled close to her legs, and Sosa plopped down on her feet as if to say, “Don’t go! We won’t let you.”

“How do they know I’m leaving?” she asked Esme, who was busy making three cappuccinos.

“They’re sensitive creatures. I think they can smell our emotions.” Esme set the coffee on the table in front of her niece and Tillie. The sun was barely up, only a thin line of carrot-orange along the horizon.

Tillie took a dainty slurp of the foam. “This sucks so bad. Not the coffee. Everything else.”

“I appreciate the lift to the airport,” Maddie told Tillie. “I’m so sorry about my job getting dumped on you for the last homestand. Make sure they pay you the rest of my salary. It’s not much, but Rory is just the type to take advantage.”

“Are you kidding? That little pissant won’t know what hit him when I take over. At first I was going to resign and walk out with you in protest. But now I’ve decided to make Rory and Cooper’s lives a living hell instead.”

“An excellent plan,” Esme said. “Please let me know if I can help.”

Tillie’s face was grim but determined. “I’ve got to see our events through to the bitter end. We have Clean Sweep Night coming up with Sweetgum’s Singing Maids. Also, the Battle of the Garage Bands with Sam Ernst. Besides...” Tillie mumbled something under her breath.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Maddie drank half her coffee in one gulp. “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee, so my superhero hearing hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“She said she LOVES baseball!” Esme supplied cheerfully.

Maddie almost choked on her cappuccino. “You do?”

Tillie glanced down her lap and then grinned. “Stupid, ridiculous game! It needs me.”

“Oh my God!” Maddie shot up and hugged Tillie. For a few glorious seconds, her despair vanished. “Tillie! That means the world to me. You’ve been amazing. I couldn’t have managed this season without you. But I’m afraid I didn’t do enough for you. We hardly talked about your life. If there’s ever anything you need—”

Tillie patted Maddie’s shoulder and did one of her signature eye rolls. “Oh please! I don’t want to talk about my life. What’s there to say? My father makes Justice Alito look like Mr. Rogers.”

“We’re your family.” Esme put an arm around Tillie and squeezed her shoulders. “And speaking as your chosen aunt, don’t you have a parting gift for Maddie?”

Tillie grimaced. “It’s too sad.”

Esme snapped her fingers like a queen issuing a command. “No. Hand it over!”

“OK, OK!” Tillie reached into her Dior book bag and pulled out a thick, spiral-bound book wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a pale pink ribbon. “Here, Boss. I can’t NOT call you that. I was gonna give you this when we broke the Manders’ attendance record.”

Maddie unwrapped the gift. “Holy cow! What did you do?” She flipped through the book. “This is incredible!"

“It’s my plan for revamping the Manders,” Tillie said. “Just pie in the sky. An exercise in futility. But I’ve been working on some new analytics and ways to put a team together. I was so sure that Silver Fox was right, and you were going to replace Rory as GM next season.”

“I’m going to study this on the plane. This is way better than the book I packed. Monsters and Mantras—a romantasy about orcs running a meditation center.”

“It won’t make you too melancholy?” Tillie asked.

Maddie stuffed the book in her carry-on bag. “I might be out of baseball, but I’ll always love it. This could be like reading the next Moneyball before anyone else does.”

“So, what’s your plan in Chicago?” Esme asked.

“First things first.” Maddie handed Esme an envelope. “Here’s what I owe you for the furniture in the carriage house. Feel free to sell it again.”

“Nonsense!” Esme tried to push the payment back but Maddie insisted. “All right. I’ll take this, but that furniture will stay right where it is. That’s your room, honey. No one wants to see you go. Sweetgum had adopted you as one of our own. You have to come back.”

“If only I could. But right now, I just want to go home. I need to talk things over with my … parents.” Maddie used the word tentatively. She had not told anyone else the truth about Monty. Only Carlton. But she knew the secret wasn’t going to last. Having a very long, weird talk with her mom was the most pressing item on her to-do list. “I’m hoping to see Nick, too. There’s something I want to discuss with him face-to-face. If it’s not too much of an imposition.”

“Oh yes! I asked, and he said he’d text you the details for getting together next week.”

“Thank you, Esme.”

“Now then, girls.” Esme crossed her arms. “Let’s get down to brass tacks here. What about your respective love lives? Tillie first. What’s going on with Vinny? I hear rumblings.”

“I should let him tell you his news,” Tillie answered, clearly uncomfortable.

“Don’t be silly!” Esme prodded. “We’ll pretend to be surprised later.”

“He’s going to grad school in journalism. At Mizzou. On scholarship.”

“Eeeeee!” Maddie squealed. “You pushed him?”

“Only nudged a little. He’s so talented and he wants to work in Chicago. Mizzou has good connections there. I merely suggested that his articles on the Manders Matter website could be a great submission portfolio.”

“Are you going to do the long-distance thing?” Esme asked bluntly.

Tillie shifted in her chair and didn’t answer.

“Nooo!” Esme and Maddie moaned together.

“Does he know yet? Is he heartbroken?” Maddie asked, and she thought about her own heartache as well. This wouldn’t help Carlton’s view of her doing exactly what Monty wanted. With Vinny gone and Herb turning to theater, the Manders Matter podcast was on shaky ground. Maddie had certainly not meant for that to happen, but she wondered if Carlton would be upset and think she had planned it.

“We talked about it,” Tillie said. “We came to a mutual decision.”

Maddie doubted that. She knew that Vinny couldn’t be happy. Her heart went out to him. But she was also proud of him.

“Your turn, Missy,” Esme said to Maddie. “All of Sweetgum knows you faked that first breakup. Rumors are swirling about Cooper getting you fired somehow. I don’t think he’s going to have an easy time doing much around here for the foreseeable future. The latest scuttlebutt is that you and Carlton have split for real. But no one has a clue why. Speculation is running wild. The leading theory is that a certain dishy Cubs shortstop has entered the picture and is callously stealing you away from the hometown boy.”

Maddie groaned. “Because YOU started that rumor, didn’t you? Oh please, shut it down. It’s embarrassing, and nothing could be further from the truth.”
“I refuse to incriminate myself. As I say, it’s just one theory among many. I think the official betting is happening at Mike’s Go Juice. People are taking sides and wearing ribbons.”

“Ribbons?” Tillie asked. “What does that mean?”

“Team Maddie and Team Carlton ribbons, of course,” Esme answered.

Maddie had to laugh even though it hurt. “Like in Gilmore Girls when Luke and Lorelei broke up? If I weren’t so devastated, I’d be amused.”

“I don’t think it’s funny!” Tillie asserted angrily. “Maddie, you can’t let this mess ruin you and Carlton. Why would you do that? What happened?”

“Has he tried to call you lately?” Esme asked.

“No.” A wave of grief crashed over Maddie. “I think… I really let him down. That’s all I can say. Some things can’t be undone. I never was any good at romance.”

“Ugh! That’s depressing.” Tillie slumped. “But you’re leaving baseball, too? That’s even worse!”

“I don’t have much choice. For reasons I can’t go into yet. OK, it’s getting late, and I have a plane to catch. Ready, Tillie?”

“No, Boss. I’m really not.” She hugged Maddie and Esme joined in. The three women stayed locked in each other’s arms while Sosa and Sandberg howled woefully. Maddie wished with all her heart that she could stay in Sweetgum, and everything could go back to the way it was.

***

LET’S PLAY TWO!

Ernie Banks’ joyful catch phrase—painted in big, Cubbie blue letters—greeted Maddie from the wall of the tunnel that led to the Cubs’ clubhouse. Her heart beat faster. She had been on tours of Wrigley Field before, but never deep inside like this. Her stomach gurgled nervously. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to work here. That dream was gone, but she wanted to savor this experience anyway. She was here to talk to the team’s famous manager. That was something special, and she wanted to be grateful. This was probably her last adventure in professional baseball, so she might as well enjoy it.

She held her head high and followed Joey, the clubhouse attendant, through the double doors to the players’ locker room. The expansive, oval space took her breath away. It was sleek and elegant, with iridescent blue perimeter lighting. Each players’ locker had pristine jerseys hanging, waiting at the ready. On the ceiling was the vintage Cubbie Bear logo, and the center of the room was a plush lounge area with circular seating. The players weren’t due to arrive for several hours. Everything was quiet and beautiful. Maddie stopped and breathed in what felt like rarified air.

“Right this way!” Joey opened another door into a winding hallway that snaked around the locker room. It was decorated with framed photos of Cubs Hall of Fame players, and the walls were painted to look like the city of Chicago’s flag with the Cubs’ iconic “W” superimposed on top of it. They passed an enormous weight room, a kitchen and dining area, video room, players’ lounge, and finally they came to Nick’s office. The door was flung wide open, but Joey knocked anyway. “Hey Nick, your guest is here!”

“Cool! Thanks, Joey.” Nick met Maddie with one of his big bear hugs, and Maddie had not realized how much she needed it.

“Thanks for taking the time to see me. Wow, this clubhouse is something else! It’s a privilege just to be here.”

“Yeah, I still feel like it’s a privilege for me, too. Good to see you, Maddie. How’s Esme?”

“As if you don’t know. You two talk every night.” Maddie grinned. “Great as always. She misses you.” Maddie noticed a framed photo of Nick and Esme at the Pickle Jar in a prominent place on Nick’s desk and wondered if Esme had made a decision about his marriage proposal. She hoped that whatever her aunt’s choice was, it wouldn’t end her love affair with Nick. Two ruined romances in one season was just too sad.

“I miss her, too. But come on, let’s sit and relax a little.” Nick motioned for her to take a seat in one of the comfy, worn leather arm chairs set off in a cozy alcove of the office. The chairs were surrounded by tall, overflowing bookshelves and a ceiling-to-floor wine rack, fully stocked. A framed print of the “Cat in the Hat” with a quote from Dr. Seuss hung on one wall. The quote read: Be who you are and say what you feel. Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.

“Would you like some tea, Maddie? Coffee? Seltzer? Anything at all? I can ask Joey to bring us something from the kitchen. There are a couple chefs standing by, all organic food.”

Maddie laughed. “Ooo, fancy! I’m used to hot dogs shot out of homemade cannons. But no, it’s OK. I’m not very hungry or thirsty.”

Nick gave her a knowing, sympathetic smile that just about broke her. “You’ve been through a lot lately. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. That’s bullshit. Just tell me about you, Maddie.”

To her surprise, Maddie told him. She opened up about things she had not told anyone else. Not even Esme or her mom, when they had their epic talk about life, the universe, and Monty. Maddie didn’t fully understand her mother’s actions, but she realized that human behavior is not always comprehensible. In fact, it usually isn’t. Mostly Maddie talked about baseball. How it was infinite. Mystical. Romantic. Soulful. Joy making. A metaphor for all of life. Nick listened and Maddie revealed more than she knew was inside her and ended by saying, “I honestly don’t know what to do now.”

“Why did you come here today?” Nick asked. “Is it about a job?”

“Yes, but not for me. The Iowa Cubs have an opening for a play-by-play announcer. I came to recommend Carlton Wilde.” She put a flash drive on the table between them. “Here are the files of the games he called over the July Fourth homestand. I know you heard him. There’s no question that he has a bright future. He’s a poet and scholar of the game, which I'm sure you appreciate more than most people. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe in his talent. Could you get him an interview? I know how competitive this business is, and he’s not on anyone’s radar here.”

“You came to ask for a job for someone else?”

“There’s no conflict of interest. Not anymore. I’m not… I’m not involved with him now, personally. This is purely professional. It means a lot to me. If I can’t be a part of the game anymore, I want to do something meaningful. I can help give baseball a gift, and that gift is Carlton. It’s the only thing that I know for sure right now.”

Nick leaned back and rubbed his scruffy beard thoughtfully. “You’re not with Carlton anymore? Esme didn’t mention that.”

“I asked her not to. But definitely not. I blew it spectacularly. Again.”

Nick didn’t answer immediately, and Maddie started to worry that he was figuring how to let her down gently.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” Maddie pleaded. “How can I convince you?”

“Listen, Maddie. I respect you, so I’m gonna tell you the truth. You might not like me for it now, but if I lied, you’d hate me forever. What the fuck is wrong with you? If you give up… If you leave baseball—and Carlton—then you’re a coward who never deserved to be in the Show. Is that who you are? What’s really going on here?”

At first Maddie felt a jab of disappointment that Nick hadn’t been more comforting. But she thought about what he said and felt a welcome spark inside her. She decided to take a leap and tell him the rest of her story. “Can you close the door? I hate to ask. But what I have to say is private. No one else can hear or know.”

Nick shut the door, and she told him all about Monty.

“Holy fuck!” Nick said when she finished.

“Exactly.” Maddie fell back in her chair, exhausted.

“Have you tried to talk to Monty?”

“Of course. He won’t respond. It’s like I don’t exist anymore. The whole thing is confusing and complicated. I wish I could keep it a secret forever. I’m sorry if it sounds cowardly, but I don’t want to stay in baseball with Monty as my mortal enemy. It would be awful. He’s my father! In spite of everything, I don’t want him to hate me, and I don’t want to hate him. I’ve thought about this a lot. Whether I should go public with what happened. Or take him to court for wrongful termination. But I think it would be a total nightmare. Not just for me. It could affect a lot of people I love. Even you. I don’t want that.”

“Well, you can stop worrying about me. I understand now. So, here’s what I always ask my players in tough situations. What does your gut tell you to do? I think you’ve got great instincts, and that’s something nobody can take away from you. No matter who your parents are.”

Maddie sat quietly and let her thoughts settle. The spark she felt earlier grew stronger.

“I should see Monty again. In person. Fight my way into his office at Sox Park. Stand up for myself and my record. Demand my old job back. Show him that he can’t stop me with all his money and power. I’m still standing, damn it! Who knows? Maybe it’s possible for us to work together. Probably not, but I don’t know that for sure yet.”

Nick raised a fist in solidarity with her. “Yes! That was beautiful, Maddie. Do it.”

“Well… Can’t hurt to try, right? And you’ll help out with Carlton?”

“I trust your instincts about him, too. He’ll get that interview.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much. You won't regret it.”

“But let me say, I don’t think the baseball gods are done with you and Carlton.”

Maddie wanted that to be true, badly. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was no way back. The silence from Carlton since their fight was deafening. It felt impenetrable.

“I don’t have very good luck with love and the baseball gods,” Maddie said. “But I have a purpose again. I feel empowered. Wait, that’s your whole managing strategy isn't it? I’ve been Maddoxed!”

“You did it yourself. Come on, I’ll show you the way out.”

They walked back to the locker room which was now filled with players.

Maddie was momentarily dazzled and ran smack into one of them. It was the shortstop, Dante Ellersby. “Hey, you’re Maddie Fields!” he said, shaking her hand warmly. “Helluva season you had! Sucks that you got fired, but there are a lot of assholes out there. Don’t let it get you down. We’ve all been there. You know, we’ve loved every minute from Sweetgum, girl!” He turned to the other players. “Hey guys, look who’s here. Give it up for Madison Fields!”

The whole clubhouse reacted with whistles and cheers. Maddie stood quietly, just soaking it in. Nick leaned over and whispered, “Hear that, Maddie? That’s the sound of your power. It’s bigger than anything a billionaire can buy. Now go get him!”

***

“How the fuck did you get in here?” Monty Ortzelbean shouted from behind an enormous, ship-like desk which was covered with an open Daily Racing Form, a plethora of wadded-up paper napkins, and the biggest Italian sub that Maddie had ever seen.

“I’m here because I’m fucking awesome!” Maddie slid a large box with an absurdly froofy bow onto the desk. “I got past every obstacle in your fucking labyrinth. That alone should tell you that I’m a force to be reckoned with, and I want my fucking job back! What kind of stupid jagoff fires someone who made him a fortune with no budget?” She paused and shook out her arms and arms and legs like she was warming up for a race. “Hey, this feels good! I really toned down my Chicago vocabulary while I was in the genteel South. But I’m getting my groove back. So listen up! It’s fucking hard what I did for you in Sweetgum. I crushed the ever-living shit out of an impossible job! Can you imagine what we could do if we stopped acting like a pair of petty dumbshits and started working together?”

Monty stood up and tore off the tea towel that was tucked in his shirt. He tossed the towel toward Maddie, his face the color of a ripe eggplant. “You fucked me and nobody—I repeat—nobody fucks me and gets away with it. I told you. I warned you! But you were a snake in the grass, and I don’t keep snakes in this organization. You are so fucking dead to me! Get out of here before I call security.”

“OK sure, I admit that I was wrong to be dishonest about Carlton.” She leaned on the front of the desk to show that she wasn’t afraid of facing him. “What I should have said is: Stay out of my personal life! It’s none of your business, and that’s final. But you know what? You win. Carlton wants nothing more to do with me. Thanks to you, I’ve lost my job, the love of my life, my home, my career, everything I ever dreamed of. And all I did was make you a buttload of money and garner a ton of sponsorships and good will in a town that had left their lousy team for dead!”

“Well, that’s what happens when you cross me, sweetheart. You had your chance and you blew it. You could have had the world and now you have shit. Your choice. Live with it.” He picked up the receiver from a clunky, old handset on his desk. Maddie thought about what Vinny would say about the woefully outdated technology, and then she yanked out the phone cord.

“Don’t you dare call security on me! Look at me. I’m your daughter. With a woman you claim to love! Have the guts to face me at least. Why can’t you just act like a human being?” She felt herself overheating and forced herself to adopt a more rational approach. “Can we please sit down and be civil? You have nothing to lose by talking to me for five minutes.”

She went ahead and took a seat in a leather armchair that wasn’t so different from the one she had used in Nick’s office only a few days ago. Monty slouched grumpily to the chair across from her. He opened a box of Cuban cigars and lit one. Maddie saw it as an overt power play. She was sure he remembered her asking him not to smoke at their last meeting. But she ignored him and took the opportunity to examine her surroundings more carefully. She liked what she saw.

“What happened to you?” she asked. “When I look around… This whole place is filled with so much baseball love. All the signed photographs and bats. It’s like a mini Cooperstown. And that row of seats from the old Sox stadium where they used to have the Negro Leagues All-Star game every year. It makes me want to break down and cry. You used to be a real fan. You went to St. Rita’s on the South Side—the heart of Soxdom on Earth! What would that kid from St. Rita’s think about an owner who hoards profits and puts a shit team on the field?”

Monty scoffed. “Who do you think you are, Charles fucking Dickens? This is real life. Not a fucking Victorian morality tale.” He puffed his cigar and Maddie waved the smoke away. “Now get out!” he ordered. “I let you have your say, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Maddie crossed her legs and settled deeper into her chair. “No, I don’t think I’m going anywhere. I know, I know! You’re going to destroy me in baseball. Blah blah blah. But I’m calling your bluff. You should open that.” She indicated the box on Monty’s desk. “It’s your Father’s Day present. Sorry it’s late.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re a fucking nut, you know that?”

“Yes, I am. It’s one of my best features. Here, I’ll open it for you.” She got up and brought the box over to her chair. She untied the ridiculous bow and lifted off the lid. “OK, let’s see… This is a bottle of Aberlour single-malt scotch. I know you’re a Glenfiddich man, but wait ‘til you try this stuff! I did not get you any cigars because lung cancer sucks, and I don’t want you to get it.” She handed Monty the bottle and reached deeper in the box for a bubble-wrapped object. “Oh, and you’re gonna love this!” She unwrapped a coffee mug with a pen-and-ink drawing of Darth Vader on the front and “Dad” printed on the back. “Isn’t that hilarious? Like you told me, we have to laugh sometimes, because what else can we do? But now… Here’s the piste de resistance! I really had to pull some strings to get this one. It’s a bootleg recording of a legendary concert by Tony Bennett from Town Hall in New York. My mom told me how much you love Tony, and I’m sure you’ve heard about this concert. But did you know the sound guy secretly taped the whole thing? I got one of the very rare copies which I am giving to you. You’re welcome.”

Monty gripped the arms of his chair. “You told Beatrice that you know about us? I specifically asked you to keep this between you and me. You couldn’t even do that one simple thing? Jesus Christ!”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t say anything until you fired me. But that was wrong. She always had a right to know what was going on.”

“That’s just great. What now? Sell your story to the highest bidder? I’m warning you—”

“You really don’t get me at all, do you? No! I’m not trying to scam you. I don’t want anything from you. Except for my old job back. I deserve it. You want proof? Check out my last gift. It’s a report on this past season for the Sliding Salamanders. How much money we’ve made in concessions and ticket sales. Lists of all the new sponsors. Photos of dozens of events and thousands of kids who came to love the Manders and the Pickle Jar this year. Also, the renovated stadium that hundreds of volunteers made happen at ZERO cost to you. The projections for next season are even better.”

“Get out of my fucking office! Now.” He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and wouldn’t look at Maddie. His hands were trembling.

She had a small epiphany. “Oh, wait. Wow… How did I miss it? You told me yourself. You said you loved my mother. I can see that now. But she hurt you. Big time. And you are really bitter about it. You’re projecting all that bitterness and heartbreak onto me.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dr. Phil! I don’t need a fucking therapist!”

“I don’t know. Maybe you do. Not Dr. Phil, obviously. Look, I’m sorry about Beatrice. Maybe you should talk to her sometime. I can’t make up for losing someone like my mom. But I’d like to be in your life and use my talents to help your team. No one has to know who I am. I can be a regular employee. It’s just… Seeing your office today, I’m positive that you love this game. It could be fun again. We could start winning. Together! I think that’s what you want to do—if you’re honest with yourself. I saw a glimpse of it that day back in Rory’s office when you told me the truth. I know it was there. Maybe that’s actually why you told me. Besides, if you really love Beatrice, this is a pretty good way to show her.”

“Never say that to me. Never use her as leverage with me! Do you fucking understand? Your time is up.” He took his cell phone from his pants pocket. “I need security up here fucking ten minutes ago!” He slammed his phone down. “You’re finished. Leave.”

Maddie had used everything in her arsenal. Monty was just a stubborn, angry, selfish, rich guy. There was nothing she could do to change him. But she was Madison Fields and suddenly she remembered that. She had her own brand of power.

“Never mind. I’ll leave without an escort. But you know what? I’m going back to Sweetgum with or without your blessing. I made a promise to break the all-time attendance record for the Sliding Salamanders, and that’s what I’m going to do! I’m NOT doing it to win your favor. The only way to do that is to suck up and follow your orders. Well sorry, that’s not for me. But I love baseball, and the Manders, and especially the town of Sweetgum. I’m doing this for love.” She looked him dead in the eye and felt sorry for him. “Keep the gifts. The Tony Bennett concert is really good.” And then she walked out the door feeling like a winner.

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