Chapter Twenty-Four: A Sweetgum Conspiracy

Mid-July in the South almost made Maddie homesick for winter in Chicago. The temperature was 90 degrees at seven in the morning when Maddie arrived at the Grand Lunch. She camped out in her usual booth, ready to get back to work. Her thoughts drifted back to the steamy weekend with Carlton. Despite her extended afterglow, she kept wondering how they were going to turn their secret plan into reality. Were they going to deceive all their friends for the next two months? Maddie ordered a pot of coffee and the sausage and tater tot casserole from Edna and opened a fresh package of legal pads and colored markers. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t concentrate on her stadium renovation plans.

“Hey, Boss! How are you feeling? We were worried about you.”

Maddie looked up, startled out of her ruminations. She had an uneasy feeling, like Tillie could sense her keeping secrets already. It made her tense and agitated.

Tillie slid gracefully into the booth. Her Lafayette 148 khakis were perfectly pressed, and her Ann Taylor peasant shirt was in a stylishly sloppy French tuck.

“OK, I need you to check with all the car dealerships and detailing shops within a fifty- mile radius.” Maddie launched into the task at hand, trying to hide her discomfort. “We’re going to need a truckload of Armor All to polish all the seats in the Pickle Jar. There’s no way we can afford new seats, and I won’t ask the ground crew to do flame polishing. I’m afraid they’d use those propane tanks and melt the whole stadium.”

Tillie arched her back and snapped off her Chanel sunglasses. “Good morning, Tillie. Nice to see you. Thank you so much for coming in two hours early to help me with this project. I believe that’s what you meant to say, Boss.”

“Oops, sorry.” Maddie turned Tillie’s coffee cup over and filled it from the pot on the table. “I’m terrible at being sick. Now I’m way behind on everything. I don’t have time for any frivolity today.”

Tillie’s demeanor got even chillier. “Frivolities? Excuse me, Miss Chicago. Are good manners considered frivolities where you’re from? Because they’re considered essential for those of us in the South.”

“Please don’t cast dispersions on all Chicagoans because of me. You’d love Chicago. It’s Midwestern nice with big city sophistication and some creative swearing. I didn’t mean to be rude. You know how much I appreciate you. In fact, I meant to ask—are you sure that you can stay until the end of September? Won’t you miss the start of the semester at Kingsley?”

“That’s kind of the point. I’m calling this an independent study. With luck I can finish college without ever having to set foot on that campus again.”

“Well, I couldn’t be more grateful. Really. It’s a big, big help. Now that our attendance is on track, I’m psyched to clean up the stadium. But there’s a lot to do, and we can only work on it when the Manders are away. The season will be over before we know it. This whole project has to run like clockwork.”

Tilllie’s face softened. “I know you love this town, but running like clockwork? More like a cuckoo clock around here.”

“Right. So, you see my point?” Maddie took out her lucky bandana and started knotting it in her hands. “And you get why I’m worried?”

“Yes and no. I understand this is a big project and you’re the Queen of Complicated, but I think there’s more going on here. You’re clearly tied up in knots about something. What is it?”

Maddie’s whole body stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re wearing a plain T-shirt today. I was expecting to see the Cowtown Catfish or the Boondocks Bisons. You NOT wearing a shirt that glorifies some tragic small town’s pitiful team is downright unsettling.”

“Why, Tillie! I had no idea my wardrobe meant so much to you.” Maddie attempted a seated curtsy. It was clumsy and she felt even more awkward.

Tillie gave her a funny look. “Don’t flatter yourself. Your wardrobe is a giant list of fashion don’ts. But it’s not just your clothes that are weird. Look at those legal pads in front of you. Blank. Where are the reams of notes and ideas and funny doodles? I’ve never seen that happen as long as I’ve known you. You’re off kilter this morning, and you’ve hardly talked to anyone for days. Vinny and Herb are concerned.”

“Oh my gosh! I forgot to ask you about going out with Vinny. How did it go?”

“You’re changing the subject and it won’t work.” A slow smile turned up one corner of her mouth. “But the date was good. Vinny’s a decent guy. We had fun. But we’re not having that conversation right now.”

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy.”

Tillie glared, and Maddie knew that once her intern got a hold of an idea she was like a terrier. She wouldn’t drop it and she wouldn’t let go.

“OK, you win, Tillie. Dammit, you have excellent observational skills. The thing is… Ever since that awful hotdog incident with Monty, I’ve been on pins and needles. To use a cliché that makes no sense around here, I’m skating on thin ice. One more screw-up and I’m out of here. I keep obsessing about it.”

Tillie didn’t look satisfied. “Well, stop it! He’d be a fool to let you go. Where else is he going to find a dynamo who works for nothing? And now you’re cleaning up those nasty stadium seats, and he won’t have to spend a dime? Please!”

“Maybe. So… Can I tell you something else? Something I’ve been keeping from you?”

“I knew it! What’s up, Boss?”

“I want to do more than clean the seats. I want to renovate the whole stadium. Fix up the old merry-go-round, do some landscaping, add a picnic area and a playground, and put a fresh coat of paint on everything. The Pickle Jar is actually quite a beauty. She’s just been neglected and needs some love.”

“You can’t be serious! First of all, it’s not your responsibility. Second, it’s bound to go cattywampus somehow. And third, the timeline was tight just to clean the seats. A facelift for the whole stadium is totally impossible.” Tillie crossed her arms firmly across her chest.

“Yeah, but with the right sponsors—and by that I mean Gertrude Thornberry—I think we can do it. Hear me out. The Pickle Jar has been ignored for more than 30 years. The fans and players deserve better. This rehab would be a big boost. I want to do something special and meaningful. Because I love it here so much, and I just have to try.”

Tillie nodded, but her brow was furrowed. “Fine. I guess.”

“Let me put it in terms that are closer to your heart. Sweetgum deserves La Mer skin care products. Instead, it has to use a container of Noxema that’s dried out because it was opened in 1994.”

“Ick, that’s disgusting! I get it, but you’re making me sick in my stomach. All right, I’m on board. We’re dumping the old Noxema. I'll start calling car dealerships right after I have my fruit plate and chai tea.” She pushed her coffee cup aside.

“Thank you. Did I mention you’re wonderful?”

“No, but you should.”

“You are.” Maddie felt a little more normal. She had diverted Tillie’s suspicions, but it probably wouldn’t last, and now she had created even more work to do on the stadium. This wasn’t sustainable behavior. She needed to find a way to be honest with her friends—without giving away too much. It was a tricky proposition, but she had an idea.

***

“What’s the real reason for this meeting?” Vinny asked. “There’s no such thing as a Pickle Race Crisis.”

“Hello to you, too, Vinny. And you don’t know—there could be a Pickle Race Crisis.” Maddie ushered Vinny into Esme’s house. She was still getting used to the fact that his usual stripey shirt and baggy shorts had been replaced by jeans and smart cotton shirts with collars. He was also clean-shaven with a new haircut that made him look cuter and older. Tillie was with him, and Maddie thought her intern seemed remarkably happy with her new situationship, although she kept her emotions close to the vest. Maddie was happy for them both, but envious, too. They didn’t have to hide from anyone.

“It’s obviously code for something,” Tillie said. “Whatever it is, it’s very cloak-and-dagger. Late at night at Esme’s? With all the blinds closed? Please tell me that we’re planning a Salamander coup. Are we storming Rory’s office in pickle costumes with spears? If so, I’m a hundred percent in favor.”

Maddie couldn’t quite bring herself to laugh. “Thanks for coming. Everyone else is in the lying room—I mean the living room. Just take a seat anywhere.” She cringed at her Freudian slip and took a seat by Carlton. She shifted nervously in her chair, unable to find a comfortable position.

He placed a calming hand on her back. “It’s going to be OK,” he whispered.

She smiled at him and nodded, but she wasn’t sure at all. It was one thing to plan an undercover operation in her head, but quite another to involve her most trusted friends. This was out of her wheelhouse. Way out. At the last meeting of her trusted baseball crew she had been excited and confident. But now… Asking her best friends to deceive the rest of the town and risk becoming the enemy of a vindictive billionaire? That was something completely different.

“I’m glad everyone could make it,” Esme said. Sosa and Sandberg trotted into the room obediently behind her, wearing tiny cravats. “And Herb, I love you but if you feed these dogs from your plate, I may have to harm you.”

Herb pretended to clutch a string of pearls. “Me? Feed Sosa and Sandburg? Never!”

Esme gave Herb a stern look. “This is serious. Tonight’s dessert will make them sick, possibly kill them.”

“I won’t give them anything,” Herb promised. “I’d never harm your little all-stars.”

“Good! Brandy, anyone?” Esme offered. “It’s heavenly with my dark chocolate mousse cups.” She fluttered through her living room filling glasses and handing out cups filled with a perfectly coiffed confection.

“Brandy? Fancy desserts? This isn’t a meeting, it’s a seduction,” Vinny predicted.

Esme put down the brandy and produced a pair of three-cornered hats from a large canvas bag. She tossed them to Vinny and Herb. “I made hats for Sosa and Sandberg, too, but they kept knocking them off and eating them. So I gave them cravats instead.”

“I don’t get it.” Vinny put on the hat and tested different angles. “What are these for?”

“What the hell?” Herb studied his hat curiously, then his face lit up. “Wait! I heard what Tillie said about a coup. Could this be a revolution? Are we going to battle King Monty and declare our independence? Yes, please!”

Maddie’s stomach turned over. She was disconcerted by Herb’s humorous guesses. He wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Hold on to your hats,” Esme said. “The last time we met, Vinny gave us his rendition of ‘The Room Where It Happened’ with pickles. Well, Vinny, you’re gonna need a bigger production number after tonight’s revelations.”

“Ah ha! This isn’t about pickles!” said Vinny. “What’s up, Mads? You’re killing me!”

“Why did I get a hat?” Herb asked.

“Don’t be modest, Herb!” Esme raised her brandy glass to him. “The whole town knows you’ve been recruited to play Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing for Sweetgum’s Shakespeare and Champagne Festival this winter.”

“Hold on! How did that happen?” Maddie asked. “How did I miss it?

“This meeting is not about me,” Herb countered. “Come on, Maddie. What’s it about?”

“It was Yacht Rock-Speed Dating Night,” Ed said to Maddie. “Herb was brilliant as Issac, your bartender from The Love Boat, for that event. He redefined the role for a new generation. Margot over at the theater was there. She offered him an audition on the spot.”

“From what I hear, he crushed it,” Esme said.

“Yeah, and Herb’s still fielding phone calls from infatuated yacht rock fans,” Vinny added. “How many dates did you line up that night, man? Twenty? Thirty?”

“Shut up!” Herb made a shoo-go-away gesture at Vinny. “No more than a dozen.”

“Way to go!” Maddie raised her glass to Herb, too. “I’m not surprised. though. You’re such a talented guy. I haven’t heard of Sweetgum’s Shakespeare and Champagne Festival. How many plays are in it?” Maddie was ecstatic to have something cheerful to focus on before she had to take the floor and possibly offend all of her friends.

Herb finally broke into a big grin. “I was amazed that Margot cast me. I think there’s just one play, but I’m not sure.”

“That’s right. One play,” Esme confirmed. “But there’s a lot of champagne. That’s why it’s a festival.”

Tillie tapped her foot impatiently. “All right, Boss. I’ve had enough. We know something very weird is going on with you. Clearly you want our help. What do you need?”

Maddie cleared her throat. “You’re right, Tillie. I’m sorry to keep you in the dark and drag my feet tonight. This is not something I feel comfortable doing. But I can’t see any other option. I trust the people in this room with my life, and I’m afraid that’s what’s at stake. My baseball life and my love life anyway.” She turned to Carlton and gripped his hand for courage.

“There’s no easy way to say this. Monty put me on probation after the flying hot dog incident, and he has a new policy about staff not dating press. If I keep seeing Carlton, I'll be fired. So I want to stage a break-up that everyone else will believe. But you’ll know it’s a fake and help us keep the secret. Just until the end of this season. I feel terrible asking you to lie.”

“I don’t!” Carlton interjected. “Think of it at a protest. Taking a stand. Taking action against an injustice.”

The room exploded with overlapping responses and objections.

“Hey everyone!” Maddie pleaded. “Quiet please!”

Herb stood up and his deep, resonant voice overpowered the rest of the chatter. “No! We need to fight the bastard openly. Not in secret. People should know about this. It’s exactly why we started Manders Matter. To stand up to Monty and talk about the shitty things he does. This is a big story you’re asking us to ignore. His behavior is abusive. It’s unfair and unjustified, given your stellar record for this pathetic team. He made up some bogus policy, and he expects you to tuck tail and submit? I’m sorry, Maddie. I can’t do it.”
‍ ‍You have no idea what I’m really asking you to ignore, thought Maddie. New tremors of guilt and fear shot through her. The situation felt so fragile. Like her plan could crumble at any second.

“Herb’s right,” Vinny said. “Tillie, what do you know about the legal issues involved here? We should find out and turn this into an investigative series.”

“Stop thinking of yourselves!” Tillie snapped. “I stand with Maddie. I don’t give a shit what another fucking rich guy does! I’ve seen it all and let me tell you… Women—especially women without money and power—are not going to get treated fairly. It’s always a shit show for women. And rich men get away with it. You have to be practical and devious. I can be both and I will be.” She jumped up and took a physical stand by Maddie’s chair. “Tell us what to do, Boss.”

Before Maddie could say thank you, the room erupted with more arguments. She glanced over at Carlton, but he was shouting back and forth with Vinny and Herb who were accusing him of caving on his ethical responsibilities. Things were getting increasingly heated. Exactly what Maddie did not want to happen.

Esme threw up her hands. “I’m sick of this bickering! Ed, what do you think?”

All heads turned to Ed. His calm depth had a gravitational pull. Maddie was grateful. She knew that Ed had a reputation for being quiet, but thoughtful and observant. People trusted him.

Ed rubbed the stubble of his beard. “I keep thinking about that quote by Martin Luther King Jr. ‘The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people, but the silence over that by the good people.’”

“Thank you, Ed. That’s what I’m talking about!” Herb said. “We can’t stay silent about Monty. It’s the wrong thing to do. Enabling evil.”

“You can fight evil in a lot of ways. Preferably in ways you can actually win!” Tillie shot back. “Vinny, help me out here. This is Maddie’s career and her happiness we’re talking about. Can’t you sympathize with that?”

“Tillie, you know that I love you…” Vinny began.

“We are not using the ‘L’ word,” Tillie said. “We discussed this.”

“Too bad. I love you. Deal with it. And everyone here is a good friend. But I have to speak out. I want to be a journalist. I care about the truth and freedom of speech. I won’t sweep this under the rug.”

Maddie was impressed by Vinny’s honesty and guts, and she could see that Tillie was, too.

Ed put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. “Hold your horses, folks! I’m not done. Obviously, Mr. Ortzelbean is oppressive and cruel. I don’t condone that. No one here does. But if we turn our backs on love—on our friends when they need us—aren’t we being just as bad?"

Maddie wanted to run over and hug him.

“Well put, Ed!” Carlton applauded. “And I’d like to point out that our podcast won’t stop criticizing Monty and Rory for every other bone-headed thing they’re doing.”

“Damn it!” Vinny slumped in his chair and covered his face with his hat. “I don’t know. This sucks!”

Herb sat down and sighed heavily. He was quiet for a few minutes. Everyone appeared to be mulling Ed’s words. Maddie sat stiffly with her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

Herb broke the silence. “OK, I’ll give you to the end of the season, Maddie. You know how I feel about all the work you’ve done here. That deserves respect and Carlton is like a brother to me. Nothing’s more important than family. But come October, all bets are off.”

“I agree,” Vinny said. “Tillie, you’re right about how women get treated. I don’t want that to happen, believe me.”

“I do, so you better not be a jerk about this!” Tillie answered.

“I’m so grateful,” Maddie said. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. You won’t regret it. There’s still a lot that I want to do for the Manders and the kids’ club and this town. By the end of the season, the Pickle Jar is gonna look brand new. This isn’t just about Carlton and me. It’s about keeping my promises to the fans and the team. I can’t lose this job. So thank you.”

“That’s settled then!” Esme poured another round of drinks. “Now I trust all of you to understand that nothing we’ve talked about tonight can leave this room.”

There was unanimous agreement, and Maddie knew her friends wouldn’t betray her. Now she had a little breathing room and a window of time that she needed. What came after that was a mystery. She had no idea how to grapple with the abyss that awaited her in October. But she would figure it out. She had to.

“Can we get to the fun part of this shindig now?” Vinny asked.

“I don’t see any fun part,” Maddie said. “Other than the chocolate mousse, which is swoonworthy, Esme.”

“Sure there is!” Vinny said gleefully. “How are Carlton and Maddie going to break up? Will there be a public fight? Where? What’s it about? Are drinks tossed? Faces slapped? There’s a lot to decide. I have some ideas.”

“I think Maddie and Carlton can figure that out on their own,” Tillie said. “But you should let me be in the vicinity to film it. I can make sure it gets to Monty.”

“OK, I know you’re a social media genius, but how?” Maddie asked. “I’m sure Monty doesn’t have an Insta account.”

“No, but I’m guessing he gets selected material from Rory, and I’m going to start ‘curating’ Rory’s feed from now on.” Tillie smiled and Maddie saw that faint Cruella DeVille aura she had detected during their first meeting.

“See why I love her?” Vinny put in.

“Stop that!” Tillie pointed at Vinny. He swept off his hat and bowed to her, but he was also smiling.

Maddie laughed at the two of them, and it dispelled some of the tension she had been carrying for the past two weeks. She took comfort in the group’s silliness in spite of her worries about the future.

“What about the secret trysts?” Herb asked. “We want Carlton and Maddie to have the best. We need suggestions, people! Where? When? And most importantly, how? In a town this small like this, everyone has to play their parts to the hilt to make sure word doesn't get out.”

“Esme, you were right all along,” Vinny said. “We need a bigger production number.”

He placed the three-cornered hat back on his head and motioned to Herb who did the same.

“No one knows how Mads and Carlton called it quits,” Vinny sang and cued Herb to take the next line.

“But we know that Monty Ortzelbean can kiss my grits!” Herb added and everyone cheered.

Vinny kept on singing and Herb joined in, improvising:

By God, In Maddie We Trust!

But we’ll never really know what got discussed.

CLICK BOOM, then it happened!

But no one else was in the room where it happened.

The rest of the group tried to sing along with the remainder of the song, but no one could keep the lyrics straight. Ed was just singing the alphabet to the tune when he could catch up to it.

Carlton hugged Maddie lightly. “See? It’s fine. This is going to work.”

“I hope so,” she answered. “I really, really hope so.”

***

The day for the fake fight with Carlton had arrived, and Maddie was dreading it. She hated the thought of breaking up with him even if it wasn’t real. What if no one believed the performance and took it as a joke? She didn’t trust her acting abilities. They had rehearsed the argument a few times, but it always devolved into hysterical laughter. When Maddie expressed doubts because they hadn’t been able to get through the scene without cracking up, Carlton likened it to the first moon landing. He said the simulation had never worked, not a single time, before it actually happened. And then it became one of the great moments in human history. Maddie didn't like their odds for a similar success.

They had chosen the midday rush at Grand Lunch as ground zero for the drama. It was the hub of Sweetgum society and would act as a natural megaphone. Maddie packed her satchel and left her dingy office at the Pickle Jar. She texted Carlton that she was on her way, and he answered a text with a thumbs-up emoji and a space rocket.

Tillie and Vinny were already at the cafe so Tillie could quietly record and photograph the event and leak it. Nothing suspicious there. Tillie and Vinny had been meeting occasionally for lunch, and the town loved it. If Carlton and Maddie were the newly anointed royal couple of Sweetgum, Vinny and Tillie were the town’s younger darlings. That’s how Edna at the diner had described it anyway. Maddie objected to the royal title but Edna shrugged. “Can’t fight it, honey. People will have their fairy tales.” Today Maddie was taking that away from them. Great!

The cafe was bustling as usual. Maddie stopped by to talk to Tillie and Vinny.

“Just take it easy, Boss,” Tillie whispered.

Vinny brushed the side of his nose with his index finger, like the secret sign of the con men in The Sting. Maddie rolled her eyes and headed for her booth. She spread her work materials on the table and chatted to passersby about her plans for the stadium clean-up, which were now in full swing. Carlton arrived and her heart lurched. Why couldn’t they just have an ordinary romance and enjoy having lunch together? He walked over to her table and bent down to kiss her. Maddie could feel everyone around them beaming in their direction.

Carlton sat in the booth across from her and took both her hands in his across the table. His steady gaze told her everything would be all right. Not to worry. They ordered lunch and chatted normally. Then he dropped the premeditated bomb on the conversation.

“They never should have made the designated hitter rule universal,” he said casually.

Maddie took a very deep breath. Here we go! she thought. “You’re right. That was really idiotic to try to make the game more exciting by actually having players who can hit come up to bat every time.”

“Are you serious? You mean you are in favor of diluting the quirky character of the game and dumbing down the strategy? Come on, what about Madison Baumgartner taking Clayton Kershaw deep? Twice! We’ll never see stuff like that again. You’re really OK with that?”

“I’m OK with letting pitchers concentrate on pitching and not getting injured trying to hit a baseball. Which most of them can’t do anyway. What’s wrong with that? The game has to change, Carlton. We can’t keep playing like we have gas lights in our houses and coal bins in the basements. And…” She fumbled briefly, but recovered her momentum. “And outhouses instead of toilets!”

She saw Carlton's mouth quiver slightly, and she thought for a minute that she had blown it. Hysterical giggling was about to begin. But he pulled it together.

“That’s silly, Maddie. What do outhouses and gas lights have to do with anything? I’m talking about the integrity of the game which apparently means nothing to you."

“Integrity doesn’t get fans in seats, I hate to tell you. The game is dying, and I’m in favor of trying to update a few things to get more people to watch. Oh, and by the way, it makes no sense to have two completely different sets of rules within a single sport.”

Carlton scoffed with impressive haughtiness. “Next you’re going to tell me you like the automatic runner at second base when the game goes to extra innings.”

“Why wouldn’t I be for that?” Maddie allowed a hint of suppressed rage creep into her voice. “Do you think the quality of baseball played in an 18-inning game is any good? NO! It’s shit and there’s NOBODY there to see it! What is the point of losing ninety percent of your audience? People want to see the end of the game. But most people work and kids go to school. They’re not gonna sit around for another three hours—when the concessions are closed—just to satisfy your misguided sense of integrity!”

By now the volume of their voices had increased enough to alert the other customers in the cafe that something bad was happening. The lunch crowd had gotten quiet around them.

Carlton slammed his palms down on the table. “Base runners should be earned, damn it! That is a fundamental principle of the game. It’s not fair to the pitcher to take a loss from a freaking gimmick! Do you even like this game, Maddie? Do you care about it all?”

Maddie flinched internally. That almost hurt for real, even though it was essentially a line in a play. It worked to make her response more vehement. “NO! I hate this game! Why do you think I work my ass off ninety hours a week? It’s not bad to make the game modern!”

Carlton crossed his arms and glared. “I suppose you want to use robot umpires. All the time.”

“Yeah. I do. I want both pitchers and batters to always have the call right. So what?”

“Well, that’s just fine! How about using robot hitters? Why have human players at all? Jesus, Maddie! I don’t even know you!”

“You might get to know me if you pulled your arrogant head out of your ass, Professor!”

“I can’t talk to you!” Carlton stood up and threw his napkin down on the table. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I don’t know WHO you are.” He tossed a pair of twenty-dollar bills on the table. “Here. Enjoy your lunch. I’m done.”

“What, you’re just leaving now?”

“Yeah, I’m obviously too antiquated for you. Get yourself a modern, android boyfriend who’ll never disagree with your sanctimonious, irrefutable, and clueless views on baseball!”

“Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over the designated hitter rule? That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous. And pig-headed. And insufferable. I can’t be with someone like that.”

“What?” Maddie shouted to make sure she got everyone’s attention for the big moment. “You can’t just break up with me!”

“I can. I did,” Carlton stated firmly.

“Not if I break up with you first.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I’ll give you a break-up.” Maddie got up and stood toe-to-toe with Carlton by the booth. “Throwing money at me and stalking out? Please! Now here’s a quality breakup move.” She picked up the plastic pitcher of sweet iced tea from the table and tossed the contents in his face.

The whole cafe stopped dead in their tracks. No one said a word or moved.

Carlton wiped his brow and flicked the tea briskly from his hands. Without saying another word, he walked out of the diner.

“Sorry! I’ll mop this up,” Maddie told Edna. She ran to the counter to grab a rag. Fortunately, the pitcher was only about a quarter full, and there wasn’t much to clean up.

Edna followed her back to the booth. “Oh honey, are you OK? What the hell was that?”

“I’ll be fine,” Maddie assured her. “Thank God I didn’t marry him and THEN find out his true feelings on the designated hitter. That would’ve been a tragedy!”

Tillie rushed over with a perfect mask of concern on her face. “Need any help?” she asked and squeezed Maddie’s shoulder to say “nice job.” Maddie gave her a subtle smile in return.

“No, Tillie. I can handle this. Go back to the Pickle Jar. I’ll meet you there.” Maddie glanced up at everyone staring. “Sorry for the disturbance. Please, go back to your lunches.”

As soon as she could, Maddie ran back to her dank office where she closed the door and checked her phone. Carlton had sent her a flame emoji with a splashing water symbol and a crying-laughing face. Underneath, he typed: That was so hot. Want you right now. Secret meeting soon.

She typed back: Not soon enough.

Tillie knocked and crowded into the small office with Vinny at her side. She shut the door and locked it behind them.

“That was awesome!” Vinny said, hugging Maddie. “The designated hitter rule! Classic. I’d pay to see that again.”

“You think people bought it?” Maddie asked.

“Oh yeah. It’s already gone viral in Sweetgum,” said Tillie. “What now?”

“First, thanks again for your help. I couldn’t do any of this without you. And now… Back to work. We have a Pickle Jar to renovate.”

Tillie saluted. She and Vinny left.

Maddie was actually enjoying the giant stadium rehab project. She dearly loved an impossible challenge. This afternoon she was working on a sponsorship proposal for Thornberry’s Toys. Her pitch meeting with Gertrude was scheduled for next week. She dove into the document on her laptop, and the time flew by until a small ping interrupted her. She grinned thinking Carlton was texting her again. But the message wasn’t from Carlton. She didn’t recognize the number, but she knew who it was from.

The message said: Nice work, kiddo. Keep it up.

***

Maddie and Carlton lay naked on a quilt Esme had made. Maddie stared up at the ceiling of the Sliding Salamanders club house, holding Carlton’s hand. “This feels so wild and adventurous! I’ve never had a picnic like this before.”

“Well, I should hope not. I’d hate to worry every time you said you were going on a picnic.”

Maddie nuzzled Carlton’s neck and laughed quietly. “I love it when you sound jealous.”

“And I love your low, sexy laugh! Where did that come from?”

“It comes from trying not to make any noise.” She tried to repeat the seductive laughter, but it came out as more of a cough. “Darn. I’m not sure I can do it again.”

“Overthinking the mechanics,” he said and pulled her on top of him.

“Take my mind off it,” she said and wriggled against him.

She stopped when she heard what sounded like footsteps coming toward them. “What’s that?”

“Shit!” Carlton said. “It’s three in the morning! Who in the world…?”

“I don’t know! No one is ever down here this late. That’s why I suggested it. “Maddie jumped up and hurried around the room, stuffing their clothes and dishes into a large picnic hamper. Carlton started to help, but then he stopped and whispered, “This is stupid. We can clean up our mess, but whoever’s out there will still find us naked in here.”

“Oh. Right. What should we do? There’s nowhere to hide and we don’t have much time.” Maddie frantically searched around the room for a solution. The footsteps sounded close. Right outside the locked door.

“The mascot costumes!” Maddie hissed. “We can put them on and sneak out without anyone seeing our faces.”

“Really? You think that will work?” Carlton sounded skeptical.

“What else can we do?”

“OK, OK! Just a second!” Carlton started rummaging through the picnic basket.

Maddie’s whisper was on the verge of panic. “What are you doing? We don’t have time!”

“I’m getting my boxers. My privates are not going to touch anything Cooper has worn.”

“Excellent point.” Maddie got into her Sally costume in a flash. Fortunately, she had perfected the art of the quick change. She managed to get Carlton zipped into the Sal costume just as the door opened and Cooper walked in. He screamed when he saw Sal and Sally waiting for him. The bag he was carrying dropped off his shoulder and spilled aspirin, ace bandages, and other medical supplies all over the floor.

“Uh, the drugstore was closed, and I needed some ibuprofen. I hurt my wrist… Uh… Playing, um, air guitar at the game on Wednesday. I mean Thursday,” Cooper stammered.

Carlton grabbed Maddie’s hand and pulled her to the exit. As Sally, Maddie gave a saucy wave as she headed out the door.

“Hey, I can explain this!” Cooper shouted. “Wait a second! WHO ARE YOU?”

***

Esme lounged on her back porch, wearing a colorful caftan and reading Claire McCardell: The Designer Who Set Women Free, as she rocked gently in her Kennedy rocker. It was one of those endless summer evenings, and the yard was filled with fireflies and the soft percussion of katydids. Earlier in the day, Esme had squeezed a pitcher of fresh lemonade and now she was enjoying a glass with a sprig of mint from her garden. She leaned back in the rocker and let a light breeze blow over her. All was right with the world. Until Cooper barreled out his back door, waving one of her homemade quilts like a banner.

“Evening, Cooper?” Esme said with more than a hint of irritation.

“I thought you might be interested in this. I found it last night at the Manders clubhouse.”

“No, you didn’t. It was on my clothes line yesterday. Why in the world did you take it?”

“I didn’t take it. I found it.” Cooper jutted out his chin defiantly.

Esme cocked her head slightly. “Ooookaaay, you found it. Sure. Whatever you say. Thanks for bringing it back.”

“You’re welcome, and I won’t tell anyone what I saw in the clubhouse. Don’t you worry.”

“Why would I worry about that?”

Cooper smirked and winked. Several times. “You know! Don’t make me spell it out. And I’m thinking that means…” He rubbed his fingers together.

“I have no idea what you’re doing, Cooper. Are we playing charades? You’re really bad at it.”

“Don’t play dumb. It means I won’t have to pay rent again, right?”

Esme laughed. “You think returning my stolen quilt means you can live rent free? I’m not following you, dear.”

Cooper balled his fists and hit the side of his thighs. “You’re being obtuse. I know it was you and Nick I saw in the clubhouse last night. Really late. With the giant picnic hamper?”

“Um, you know that Nick is the manager of the Cubs, right? He’s in Cincinnati for a big series with the Reds right now.”

“Well, if it wasn’t your pretty-boy boyfriend,” Cooper huffed, “Then who WERE you having your furry sexcapades with? This quilt is proof that it was you. Now I get why you call it dirty quilting!”

Esme let out a howl that brought Sosa and Sandberg running to the back door, barking and howling along with her. The howl turned into rolling laughter. Esme held her stomach and wiped tears of amusement from her face as Maddie pulled into the driveway.

“You won’t be laughing when I spread it around town that you’re a pervert with a salamander fetish!” Cooper yelled.

Esme just laughed harder.

Maddie jumped out of her golf cart and ran to her aunt. “Esme, what’s wrong? Are you OK? It sounds like you’re dying over here.”

“I am!” Esme choked out. “Cooper thinks he saw me last night at the Manders locker room, and he’s trying to blackmail me about my…” She made air quotes and said, “Furry sexcapades!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.” Maddie looked back and forth between Esme and Cooper.

“It means people who like having sex in mascot costumes!” Cooper blurted, making Esme collapse with more laughter.

“Oh. Is that right? Well, that’s a new one on me,” Maddie said with a weak laugh. “Sorry, can’t stay and chat. I’ll catch up with you later! I’ve got some work to do upstairs.” She practically ran back to the carriage house.

Esme watched Maddie and steadied herself. “Cooper, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t me. And frankly, if I wanted to have sex in mascot costumes, I wouldn’t care what anyone thought about it. Stop being such a little weasel and leave me to my lovely book and lemonade. Good night!”

Cooper dropped the quilt in the grass and stomped off. Esme got up to pick up the quilt and fold it neatly and set it on the porch steps. She watched Maddie’s lights go on in the carriage house across the yard. “That’s odd,” she said to no one in particular. “I really thought Maddie would think that was funny.”

BASEBALL INSPIRATION: THE DESIGNATED HITTER DEBATE

*White Sox Hall of Famer, Frank Thomas, became a great designated hitter.*

Maddie wants readers to know that she really does miss the old National League style of baseball before the NL adopted the “DH” position permanently. But she’s glad that the rule gives veteran stars like Frank Thomas the chance to extend their careers.

For most of MLB history, National League pitchers also had to bat in the lineup when they pitched. This created all kinds of strategy opportunities for the managers as well as immeasurable, irreplaceable drama.

The idea of letting another player hit in place of the pitcher was first proposed way back in 1891, but was not accepted by the American League until 1973! That season, the AL had declining attendance and historically low batting averages for pitchers. So, the owners tried something new. The move was successful, but the NL refused to accept the rule for decades. Most NL fans agreed, wanting to preserve their uniqueness.

The pandemic season of 2020 finally turned the tide. Health and player safety protocols led to a one-season agreement implementing the DH in both leagues. Pitchers liked the change, and the universal designated hitter rule was instituted during the collective bargaining agreements ahead of the 2022 season.

One of the best current designated hitters is Kyle Schwarber. He was essential to the Cubs’ World Series win in 2016, returning to the team just in time for the championship series, after a devastating injury early in the season. Now with the Philadelphia Phillies, Kyle helped his team get to the World Series in 2022, and he continues to be a leading power hitter today.

AUTOMATED BALLS AND STRIKES (ABS) CHALLENGE SYSTEM

Brand new to the major leagues in 2026: The ABS Challenge System allows catchers, pitchers, and hitters to challenge balls and strikes called by the umpire.

Each pitch is recorded by Hawk-Eye camera-tracking technology, which measures the exact strike zone for every player. Each player is actually measured at the start of the season so that precise adjustments are made for height.

To challenge a ball or strike, a player must tap his cap or helmet within two seconds of the umpire’s call.

Each team starts the game with two challenges. Successful challenges are retained while incorrect challenges result in a loss of one.

So far, catchers have proven to be the most successful players at issuing challenges.

About 50% of calls that are challenged have been overturned so far in the first season of ABS.

With today’s ABS system and the manager challenges that review calls on the field with video replays, the tradition of managers staging elaborate fights with umpires has suffered a blow.

One of the infamous practitioners of this art form was Lou Pinella, manager of the Cubs from 2007 to 2010. A classic Pinella ejection came on June 2, 2007 in a game with the Atlanta Braves.