Chapter Twenty: The Fourth of July

It didn’t matter that Maddie made fun of her, Esme liked wearing vintage men’s watches. She hated carrying her phone if she didn’t have pockets, and her Gruen watch had a face big enough to be easy to read. She was reading it a lot today. About every 20 seconds. Nick was coming back to town. He was supposed to arrive this morning, and it was almost noon.

Esme sat down on the hot pink wicker chair on her front porch, a glass of sweet tea in her hand. She thought of all the phone calls, texts and Facetime-ing since Nick’s first visit. They had kept in touch frequently, and they both loved writing letters. The calls were reassuring, the texts made her laugh, but the letters—the letters made her heart beat faster.

Writing brought a different dimension to their connection. Esme could savor the slow burn of their relationship. In letters, she had time to choose her words carefully and enjoy playing with language. She read Nick’s passages again and again and imagined him writing them. He told funny anecdotes about players, made sweet observations about his grandchildren, and he was insightful and perceptive about everything. He always made her think and wonder.

This was a type of intimacy with a man that was new to Esme. Nick offered a depth she wasn’t used to, and it was intoxicating. She was looking forward to where this friendship would lead. Admittedly, she had moments of doubt, but she was willing to tame those for a chance to be with someone who intrigued her to her very core.

Esme was so lost in her thoughts, it took her a moment to realize a car had pulled up in front of the house. Nick got out and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, just standing there and smiling at her. Her heart clutched. How could she have forgotten how good-looking he was? She hadn’t forgotten, really, but in person he carried a calm and vibrancy that sounded contradictory but melded perfectly. Fortunately, she wasn’t a jealous woman, because on his previous visit, he’d made half the town swoon.

“Nick!” Esme set her tea down and skipped down the steps and into Nick’s arms. They shared a luxurious kiss.

“Such passion in the middle of the street!” Nick said. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll scandalize the neighbors?”

“Have you met my neighbors? I’ve got a guy who dresses like a salamander next door, a chainsaw artist across the street, and a pair of dog rescuers two houses down who have a dozen cocker spaniels. These people are not typical.”

“Neither are you.” Nick tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. “A big part of your charm.” He leaned over into one of his duffel bags and pulled out a Cubs baseball cap and jersey with “RIZZO” on the back. “I know Sweetgum’s a Sox town, but I thought you’d like these.”

Delighted, Esme put them on immediately. “Let’s put your bags inside, and then we can begin our adventure.” She felt a tiny sizzle of excitement, almost an uneasiness. They had agreed that Nick would stay at her house rather than the Dragonfly Bed and Breakfast. She knew where this was heading. Or at least she hoped she did.

***

“I’m assuming there’s a good reason you told me to pack my bike helmet?” Nick asked.

“And for taking my helmet on a walk through town?”

“Have a little patience. I know how much you love bike riding. Anyone willing to ride during Chicago winters is beyond an enthusiast. We’re going to bike through Sweetgum today.”

“Really? You know I’m not one to state the obvious, but you’re forcing my hand. We’re walking, not biking.”

“To the library. We can check out bikes there. Just like books.”

“Now this is a library I have to see.”

They walked to the end of Magnolia Street and rounded the corner at Vine Street. Esme stopped in front of an impressive granite building surrounded by crepe myrtles in bloom.

“It’s a Carnegie library, isn’t it?” Nick asked.

“Absolutely. Built in 1913 and in constant use ever since. The inside is even better.”

Esme was charmed watching Nick explore the building, perusing every section, asking questions of the librarians. He was interested in everything: the quiet reading room with a fireplace and window seats, the music practice rooms with stained glass windows, the Sweetgum artist and author sections, and the Makerspace with new tech tools. Eventually they checked out their bicycles and strolled back outside to pick them up.

“Well, what did you think?” Esme asked.

“Great place. Innovative. Inviting. But I think what I liked best is the children' s department. I want to check out puppets and the puppet theater. We could put on a show.”

“For kids in the neighborhood?” Esme asked.

“Or just for us. For the fun of it.”

Esme felt a touch light-headed. “Sir, I love your sense of the absurd.” She was still surprised she’d met a romantic partner who loved quirky as much as she did.

“Let’s make use of these bikes. I want to show you one of the best absurd sites in Sweetgum.”

As they pedaled through town, Esme pointed out her favorite places. They rode past Pins and Pens, a stationery and sewing supplies store. Right next door was a fabric and quilting store called the Dirty Quilters Co-op.

“You know I’ve got to ask about that," Nick said. “The quilters don't wash their fabric? They embroider dirty limericks on the back of their quilts?”

“Excellent guesses. But no. Dirty quilting is fast, improv quilting. It’s all about the fun, not about perfection. I’m a member of the dirty quilters club and love it. Sometimes when we work on projects together, we get tipsy and tell ribald stories. So you weren’t that far off with the off-color limericks.”

They rode on for a while, past the Sweetgum State Park and the Sweetgum Skate Park next to it. “We’ll have to spend a day at the state park while you’re here. It’s glorious!”

“What makes it so special?”

Esme was thoroughly enjoying all of Nick’s questions and the chance to show off her beloved town. She really wanted him to love it as much as she did. “The WPA lodge. The boardwalk along Shadow River. Lots of trails, including wheelchair accessible ones and a meditation trail. I love that Sweetgum includes everyone. Any age, any ability can enjoy the park.”

“And the skate park?”

“OK, that is more age specific. Sweetgum city planners want to make sure there’s plenty for children and young people to do. The more engaged they are with their city, the less likely they are to move away when they're adults. Also, it helps draw new families to town.”

“I visited that sports complex the last time I was here. Plenty of athletic opportunities for everyone. I was impressed,”

“Yes, Carlton started out there. Three former Sweetgum residents play in the NHL, which is unusual for a small Southern town. Right now the arts scene is more ad hoc than the sports scene. I’m hoping we can eventually get the arts up to the same level.”

“Makes sense,” Nick said. “The yin and yang of physical and cerebral. Dualism for a city. Very zen. By the way, what do you call Sweetgum residents? Sweetgummies?”

Esme laughed. “We should start spreading that around. It might catch on.”

The sun beat down from a sky filled with heaping cumulus clouds, but a cool breeze kept the ride pleasant.

“How about one more site before we end the bike tour?” Esme asked.

“I’ll be honest with you. I don’t want this to end. Sweetgum and you… It’s like a magical mystery tour, and I don’t make Beatles comparisons lightly.”

“You’re going to love this last place! It’s the absurd site I mentioned earlier.”

“Better than the miniature golf course based on Greek mythology? I don’t think the real Zeus would have given away ice cream tokens if you hit a golf ball into his mouth.”

“Zeus was nothing if not unpredictable. And don’t knock it. We get lots of field trips with school children from nearby cities. Percy Jackson fans love it.”

Esme led the way back toward town through a fairly well-to-do but older residential section of Sweetgum. They pedaled past Tudor mansions, Craftsman bungalows, and Queen Anne Victorians. A cluster of lush trees with no house on a vast lot came into view. Esme raced ahead and then stopped at a dragon-shaped bike rack in the front of the property. An entrance made with logs and sticks that looked like a 1950s state park sign proclaimed “Nirvana Park.” A chainsaw bust of Kurt Cobain sat on one side of the sign and Krist Novoselic was on the other side.

Nick pulled up beside Esme, and they locked their bikes together on the rack. “Looks like they picked David Grohl to represent the drummers,” he said as they began their trek through the park.

The wide lawn looked like an Impressionist landscape, a blur of colors from plantings of Black-eyed Susans, purple coneflowers, pink and blue hydrangeas, daylilies, blanket flowers, Carolina phlox, lobelias, Rose of Sharon shrubs, and zinnias. Benches were scattered throughout, but none of them matched. Busts of famous musicians were everywhere, all of them chainsaw portraits carved in a realistic but distinctive style. A gazebo-bandstand stood at the center of the park, accompanied by a glass-encased poster with a list of upcoming concerts.

Nick studied the sculptures, checked out the benches, and surveyed the flower beds. Esme didn’t explain anything. She allowed Nick to experience Nirvana Park on his own.

“OK, you have got to tell me this story!” he said at last.

Esme pulled him next to her on a seat she particularly liked. It was a round bench that circled a great horse-chestnut tree. Someone’s homage to Jane and Mr. Rochester’s “proposal tree” in Jane Eyre.

“It was so much fun watching you try to figure this place out!” Esme said, laughing. “But here’s the real story. You’ve noticed that this neighborhood is pretty fancy-schmancy?”

“Sure.”

“About fifteen years ago, the house on this lot burned down. The owners didn’t rebuild, and they moved to Florida instead. The property was cleared, but vacant. They didn’t want to sell it. One of our more eccentric neighbors got tired of seeing it empty, so he decided to add his own art. For free.”

“The chainsaw artist, I take it? Your neighbor, right?”

“Spot on. His name is Alejandro Sanchez. He made busts of Daddy Yankee, Hector Lavoe, Paquito D’Rivera, and Robert Johnson. Then he added the Beatles, Sam Cooke, and Yo-Yo-Ma. That started a whole thing. People started stopping by to see the sculptures. Then they wanted a place to sit, so they brought or built benches. Show me a Southern woman worth her salt who doesn’t appreciate fresh flowers, Of course, flower beds started appearing.”

“And that was OK with everyone? No permits or anything required? What about the owners?”

“There were some complaints. Most people liked it, and the city offered to buy the property. The owners refused to sell, but they offered to donate the land if the park were named after their favorite band, Nirvana. The city agreed and commissioned Alejandro to do the art at the entrance. There’s a concert series now during the warm months. A bunch of regional musicians have been discovered here.”

Nick pulled Esme closer. “I absolutely love that story. Arts, community, sharing. So many good things.”

Esme answered with a quick peck on the cheek. “Well, pretty good. Notice anything about the list of sculptures I just mentioned?”

Nick thought for a moment. “No women?”

“Exactly! So, the Dirty Quilters got together, made 30 quilts related to women’s history and raffled them off. We believe in craftivism. With the money we made, we paid for busts of Ella Fitzgerald, Janis Joplin, and Sister Rosetta Tharpe.”

“The story keeps getting better.”

“Yeah, actually it does. It started a trend. Other groups have raised money for statues. Alejandro keeps busy, and he’s developed a national reputation as a folk artist.”

“That’s outstanding. Anything else I need to know? I keep finding more levels to love.”

Esme knew that Nick wasn’t just referring to the park. She returned his smile. “Well, there is one more thing. Nina DiCaro of WZAZ has raised enough money to add a Yacht Rock section. I forgot to tell you, she met the love of her life at Yacht Rock-Speed Dating Night, and they’re getting married here in Nirvana Park this fall. I can’t wait to tell Carlton.”

***

“Are you sure Maddie doesn’t mind meeting us before the game? I know she’s got a lot planned for this week. I don’t want to distract her.” Nick wiped his humidity-steamed glasses with his handkerchief.

“I guarantee it’s not a problem,” Esme told him. “She wants to show you how much has changed since your last visit.” She gave his hand a tight squeeze. “She really looks up to you.”

“I’m honored. She’s quite a luminary herself.”

The Sweetgum Senior Shuttle pulled in front of the Cover to Cover bookstore where they were standing.

“Explain this to me again. We don’t have to pay for our ride to the game?” Nick climbed into the van and Esme followed. They scrunched together in one of the front seats.

“All shuttle rides are free. For everyone. ‘Senior Shuttle’ refers to the drivers, not the passengers. A group of retirees got together and organized the service. Three vans and a dispatcher. Give them a call and they’ll pick you up and drop you off at designated sites.”

“Very cool,” Nick said. “Good for the environment, cuts down on traffic and parking issues, and keeps seniors connected to the community.”

“The shuttle is based at the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. Tamika’s in charge. She was a police dispatcher in Detroit. She’s quite the character. Always wears orange. A big-hearted ball buster who has the voice of an angel when she sings in the Sweetgum Resistance Choir.”

By the time the shuttle arrived at the Pickle Jar, it was packed with fans going to the game. Maddie was there to greet Nick and Esme. She gave Esme a big hug and then Nick. “Great to see you again! Welcome back! I hope everything’s going OK so far.”

“I’m proud to say Mr. Maddox is charmed by your aunt’s hometown,” Esme said.

“And by your aunt.” Nick put his arm around Esme.

“Oh! Well, who wouldn’t be?” Maddie sounded a little taken aback.

Esme felt flustered and realized that she and Maddie should have a heart-to-heart talk about Nick sometime soon. Not that she needed her niece's permission, but she wanted to share her joy. Maddie was more than a niece now; she was like a best girlfriend. But she was hardly ever home anymore. Finding the time would be a trick.

“Where’s Tillie?” Esme asked.

“Yes, where’s Tillie?” Nick echoed. “I’d like to hear her take on things during this tour.”

“You’re in luck, Silver Fox.” Tillie jogged up to the group and stood by Maddie. “I was checking out a few details before trying to impress Mr. Big Deal.”

Nick grinned. “I told you to call me Nick. Silver Fox is marginally acceptable. But please, not Mr. Big Deal.”

Tillie grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake. “You got it, Mr. Fox.” She smiled devilishly. “Don’t just stand there. We’ve got places to be.”

Maddie served as the tour guide, while Esme listened and basked in the pride she felt. When her niece arrived at the Pickle Jar, there was a surplus of empty booths on the concourse and blank ads all over the field. Now the booths were overflowing with pop-ups from local businesses, and all the ad spaces were filled.

“Love the diversity!” said Nick. “You can buy anything from homemade fudge to artisan jewelry to voodoo dolls. It really shows off the local culture.”

“Yeah, I’ve bought a couple Rory dolls for Maddie, but she’s too high-minded to use them,” Tillie said.

“Is he here tonight?” Nick asked.

Maddie and Tillie looked at each other and laughed.

“No, he’s too busy sucking up to Kingsley alumni, hoping for an invitation to their vacation homes in the Maldives to come to the game tonight,” Tillie said.

“Good one!” Maddie said.

“I’m not joking. That really is what he’s doing tonight.”

“OK, well, good for him. Anyway, tonight is extra special.”

“Boss says that every single night,” Tillie told Nick.

“It’s always true!” Maddie asserted. “But tonight Thornberry’s Toys becomes a major sponsor again. It’s the premiere of our new rally monkey, Thorny. It might not sound like much, but Gertrude Thornberry is a tough nut to crack. I finally got her back through our kids’ club promotions which have gotten enormous. After the All-Star Break, we’re doing a gigantic ‘Japan Night.’ There’s a haiku writing contest, and we’re putting the kids’ poems up on the Jumbotron during the game.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” Nick said. “No place better than Japan to see baseball.”

“I’ve always wanted to see a game there,” Esme said.

“Let’s make that happen,” Nick suggested with a wink. “But for now, did I hear something about a food truck section? I have to admit I’m famished after all this sightseeing.”

“This way,” directed Tillie, and the group made their way to a long line of vendor trucks parked beyond the first base line wall of the stadium.

“The food at the ballpark used to be terrible.” Esme took Nick’s arm as they walked.

“I think the head catering chef got fired from cooking at the county prison. Slop is too good a word,” Maddie added.

“Maddie, you know better than that,” Esme scolded. “You know that you should say ‘Bless his heart’ before you begin an insult.”

“Oops! Bless his heart, slop is too good a word,” Maddie repeated and everyone laughed.

“We should get something to eat and let these girls get back to work. I recommend the chicken shawarma.” Esme got in line with Nick to order their meals.

“Maddie, you’re a wonder,” Nick told her. “Tillie, you too. I would not be shocked if the Manders had a new GM next season, and I’m looking at you Madison Fields. And Tillie will get her law degree and become… Attorney General? A Supreme Court Justice? Or something great that none of us can envision yet?”

Maddie thanked him effusively, and even Tillie had a small grin on her face.

“Now off you go! Have a good game. Go Manders, for whatever that’s worth!” Esme said.

“Go Manders! Watch for the Rally Monkey. Thorny cracks me up!” shouted Maddie, and she took off with her intern running beside her.

Nick and Esme found a picnic table away from the crowd to sit down and eat their dinner. They talked about what they’d seen in town, and Esme wanted to know more about Nick’s impressions.

“I’m interested in your ideas for the arts. Any specific plans?”

“I want to be the Arts Czar of Sweetgum.”

“You and Maddie don’t think small, do you?” Nick laughed and bit into a crispy falafel side dish they were sharing.

“No, we do not,” Esme stated. “And I have a real plan. There’s a block of empty stores downtown that don’t seem to stay leased. I’d like to make an arts co-op. Have space for theater groups, a film club, a loft for drawing and painting, a ceramics studio with a kiln and pottery wheels.” As she talked, Esme got more animated, making lots of big gestures with her hands, letting herself imagine new possibilities. “And I want rehearsal rooms for musicians. Big enough for bands and choirs. Banks of sewing machines and project tables, so people can make costumes, quilts, cosplay clothes, whatever they want. Also, some cozy writing rooms and an editing suite for filmmakers. I want to inspire collaborations between all the groups. All kinds of artists, creating new works. Pushing the boundaries of what we can do. A place for play and innovation. When people realize how much effort it takes to create something, they’re less likely to be destructive. And we live in very destructive times. We tear things down instead of building them up.” Esme let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, Ms. Fields. Did you get dizzy standing up so high on that soap box?” Nick asked.

Esme stared at him, surprised. Was he making fun of her? Dissing her dream? If so, she had to rethink this relationship. “Excuse me? I don’t think I was pontificating at all.”

“Sorry.” Nick took her hand and kissed it. “I was kidding. It’s an amazing idea, and this is the place where it could happen. You’re definitely the person who could make it happen.”

“Thank you,” Esme said, relieved. “I’m very serious about this project, and I won’t let anyone stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you. I’m a big believer in being positive. And not delaying gratitude. I couldn’t be more grateful to be here with you. I hope you know that.”

“Sorry, Nick. I just had a moment. I’ve seen how encouraging you are to the girls, to Ed… And now to me. You have a gift for inspiration.” She leaned over, making sure her body brushed ever so lightly against his. “I’d like to show you how grateful I am when we get home, if that’s OK with you.” She flashed a saucy grin and eased her hand up his thigh under the picnic table.

He placed his hand on her lower back, giving her shivers. “More than OK. How about if we leave the game a little early and listen to the radio. In bed. Or wherever we might be...”

“Well now, Mr. Maddox, I do love baseball on the radio.”

***

Early on the morning of July 3, Maddie hurried down the steps from her carriage house and crossed the dew-drenched lawn to her aunt’s screen door. Esme’s cappuccinos with frothy steamed milk were better than anything Maddie could whip up in her tiny kitchenette. She sometimes stopped by to have a cup of caffeinated luxury on her way to work. It was like a deep, calming breath before the whirlwind of her day.

But today when she flung open the door, she ran smack into Nick Maddox. She was so flummoxed that she kept trying to step around him and invariably went the wrong way and ran into him again.

“You go first,” she finally told him.

Nick laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “This is probably a little weird for you. That’s OK.”

Maddie laughed nervously. “Oh no. Happens all the time. Well, no. That’s not what I meant. It never happens. Or I’m sure it does, but not when I’m here. Sorry, yeah. A little weird. None of my concern, though. Please go on with your day and ignore me.”

“It is some of your concern. I know you and Esme are close. But I’m absolutely gaga for her. I don’t want you to worry about that. If anything bothers you, you can always talk to me. I’m all about open communication.”

“That’s totally different from my entire family history. But thanks. Of course I trust you. You’re one of the best people on the planet and so is she. I’m delighted for both of you. I’m sure I’ll be a lot more eloquent when I’ve had a lot more coffee.” She shifted awkwardly, her Keds squeaking on the damp grass. “Um, I’m not sure what to do. Can we hug each other now without asking permission first?”

Nick opened his arms. “I think we can. Yeah.”

Maddie gave him a quick but firm hug and felt only mildly surreal doing it.

“See you later! Off to do some actual baseball work.” Nick departed.

Maddie wasn’t sure if she should disturb her aunt in light of recent developments. But curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped inside the kitchen and sat down quietly. She could hear Esme singing as she came down the stairs followed by Sosa and Sandberg, barking to be let out. When Esme appeared in the door frame, she was wearing a silk kimono loosely tied about her waist. Her long hair was let all the way down, falling past her shoulders. She saw Maddie and wrapped the robe closer, then pulled her hair back and knotted it behind her neck.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Esme bent down and kissed Maddie’s cheek.

“Yeah, I don’t think my morning is half as good as yours! I ran into your new boyfriend on his way out. We had a nice chat. It seems he’s gaga about you. That’s a direct quote. I almost didn’t come in, but I couldn’t help it. I had to see how you were doing. Are you…You know… OK and everything?”

“Oh my dear niece! It’s so sweet that you’re looking out for me. I couldn’t be better, and I’m tickled to death that we can have our morning cappuccinos on this very fine day! I’ve been dying to tell you more about Nick and me. We’ll have a proper talk later, I promise.” Esme fired up the espresso machine and let the dogs out into the yard.

“I should have realized…” Maddie began. “I saw the chemistry between you right away. But I was a little shocked just now. I guess I thought he would be staying at the Dragonfly again. I can be such a Midwestern Girl Scout sometimes. It’s great, though! Very exciting!”

Esme poured cold milk into a small, silver pitcher and let a burst of steam shoot from the espresso maker. She buried the steamer nozzle in the milk, creating a satisfying low gurgle.

“Your turn’s coming, Maddie. Now that you and Carlton are on the same page. Thank God, by the way! It certainly took you long enough. Hurrah for Yacht Rock-Speed Dating Night! Long may its legacy linger.”

“Shh! Don’t say another word. I’m afraid we’ll jinx it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! We won’t jinx anything.” Esme placed two cappuccinos, two spoons, and a bowl of sugar on the Formica table. “There’s no reason to be superstitious.”

“I’m not superstitious. I’m just a little-stitious. It's a baseball thing.”

“So, when’s the big night for you two? Do you have protection, I hope?”

“Stop! And yes, of course. But we both have to get past this week. Carlton’s play-by-play gig and my July Fourth extravaganza.”

“Well, it won’t be long. He’s scrumptious on the radio. Nick and I were listening last night. That boy is a natural-born poet about the game. Ed is in awe. He texted me about it.”

“I’m so proud of Carlton! I really think he’s got a future—”

More barking came from Sosa and Sandberg outside, and there was a knock at the door.

“Gracious!” said Esme. “It’s Grand Central around here this morning.”

Maddie opened the door and found Tillie holding a box from Sweetgum’s World of Donuts. Her blue, seersucker Vineyard Vines dress looked fresh as a spring bouquet, even though the July air was heavy and humid enough to knock out a horse.

“Tillie, I wasn’t expecting you,” Maddie said. Especially not this early. “Anything wrong? It looked like Cooper was in another sulky mood last night. He’s still ticked at me for calling into Love Notes and exposing him on the radio.”

“Who cares? He’s just adding more fuel to the mascot drama. It totally works! Did you know there are online communities writing Sal and Sally fan fiction now?”

“No, but that’s awesome! Anyway, what brings you here?”

“Thought you might like breakfast and a ride to work since the game went so long last night.”

“I could use both. Thanks.”

Tillie strode into the kitchen. “I didn’t forget you, Esme. I know you love the apple fritters.” She placed the box on the table and opened the lid.

“I’ve trained you well.” Esme reached into the box for a fritter, but Tillie held up her hand.

“Stop right there! ‘Fess up. What happened with the Silver Fox last night? You’re glowing so brightly, I might have to pull out my Chanel sunglasses.”

Maddie reached in and grabbed a chocolate glazed doughnut which she devoured in a few bites. “It would appear my aunt and Mr. Maddox consummated their situationship last night.”

“It took that long?” Tillie asked. “Seriously? I figured you two had been banging since that jewelry toss back in May. You’re so obviously into each other. And for an old man, he’s pretty hot.”

Esme took a fritter and bit into it fiercely. “Thank you, Tillie. The old man and I had quite a night.”

Tillie chose a light-as-air cinnamon twist from the box and nibbled one end daintily. “Were those his shoes I saw on the porch?”

“Yes, why? Nick got them wet when he watered my garden yesterday and left them there to dry.”

“Oh, he watered your garden?” Tillie repeated suggestively. “Good for you! Those are some huge shoes! Is it true what they say?”

“Tillie! I don’t think this is appropriate,” Maddie objected.

Esme took a sip of cappuccino and rested her chin on one palm. “Hmm, I haven’t done a longitudinal study, but speaking anecdotally—”

“NO!” Maddie shouted. “We are NOT divulging any more details of my favorite aunt’s sex life. Uh uh. No way. Not going to happen. It’s eight in the morning. Way too early for X-rated antics.”

“What is the proper hour for X-rated antics? I’ll be sure to keep it in mind for future reference.” Esme glanced at Tillie and they giggled.

“Never. Is the proper time for this conversation.” Maddie spooned a silly amount of sugar in her coffee.

Tillie did one of her classic eye rolls. “Sorry, Esme. My Baby Boss seems to be unaware that grown-ups have sex. But anytime you want to spill the tea, I’m here for it. Happily, I don’t have the appalling Puritanical streak that your niece has.”

“Really, I thought I was a better Bohemian influence on you, Maddie.” Esme smiled mischievously. “I can’t resist dishing just a little.”

“Do tell!” Tillie clasped her hands on the table and leaned forward.

“Please don’t,” Maddie pleaded.

Esme ignored her. “So, this morning Sosa was whining because his favorite ball had rolled under the bed and he couldn’t reach it. I couldn’t stand his whimpering, so I crouched down to get the ball out for him. What I didn’t expect was for Nick to kneel behind me and put his hands on my hips—”

Maddie put her hands over her ears. “That’s it! Enough! And if either of you say ‘reverse cowgirl’ I’m going to leave the state!”

“I would never!” Esme plucked at her kimono sleeve. “I leave it to your imagination.”

Tillie smothered a laugh. “It would be a shame if you left the state now, Boss. You’d miss Monty coming to the game tomorrow night. For our big Fourth of July blowout.”

“What?” Maddie jumped up out of her chair, and her coffee cup rolled around on the floor. “Monty Ortzelbean is coming here?”

“Uh huh,” Tillie replied blandly. “Check your email. Apparently, he’s heard so much about the big crowds, he wants to see it for himself. Who knows? His Lordship Rory might even show up at the ballpark sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”

“Oh my God! I’m not ready. Now there are a million more things to do and think about. Holy shit! I have to tell Carlton. When does Monty get here? How is he getting here? Do we need to hire a limo? Where’s he staying? Are we doing any photo ops for the press? The VIP suite needs a total overhaul.”

Esme stood up and massaged Maddie’s shoulders. “Calm down, honey. This is great news! You’ve made quite an impression. It’s everything you’ve worked for.”

Tillie picked up the fallen cup and placed it in the sink. “We’ve got this. It’s our victory lap. Enjoy it.”

“I want to believe that.” Maddie took a deep breath and held it, then exhaled slowly. It didn’t help. Her heart and mind were out of control, leaping ahead to everything that could possibly go wrong. “But right now it feels like I’ve got a big test tomorrow that I completely forgot to study for.”

***

For the first time in twenty years, the Pickle Jar was sold out for the Fourth of July. Maddie cheered when Tillie brought her the news, just as the air show ended and “The Flying Salamanders” (formerly “The Flying Elvi”) parachuted out of a biplane and landed on the baseball diamond to signal the start of the game. Monty’s arrival had gone smoothly, but Maddie hadn’t seen him yet. Rory kept the owner to himself.

Halfway through the game, Maddie decided to visit the Manders’ VIP suite and introduce herself to Monty. She felt anxious but excited. There were so many new ideas she was just itching to discuss with him. Now she finally had her chance to be an advocate for this team and for quality baseball in Sweetgum. When she got to the door, an intimidating security guard she didn't recognize stopped her.

“Sorry ma’am. Only authorized personnel beyond this point.”

“I’m on the staff here. I’m in charge of this event. Madison Fields. PR Director and Promotions Manager. I’m sure that I’m on your approved list.”

The guard checked a nearby clipboard and his phone. “Nope. Can’t let you in. I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

Fury rose in Maddie’s gut. “Just open the door for ten seconds and ask Rory Lampkin. He’s the GM. He’ll tell you it’s fine.”

“He’s the one who gave us this list.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that!” Maddie called Rory’s cell phone, but as usual, he didn't answer. She pushed past the guard and wedged the door open. She could just see the back of Rory and Monty, sitting in the custom leather chairs she had managed to get donated at the last minute. A haze of cigar smoke filled the room, and the two men were holding glasses of Glenfiddich single malt scotch, Monty’s favorite, that she had stocked specially for the occasion.

“Official sell-out,” Rory was saying.

Monty clinked glasses with him. “Un-fucking-believable!”

The guard hauled Maddie aside and slammed the door. “If you leave now, I won’t call the police and have you arrested.”

“Arrested! For what? This is my job. I’m here all the time, and I just want to see my boss for one lousy minute!”

The guard made a condescending pity-face. “I’m sure you have work to do sweetheart, so you’d better get to it. Leave the big boys alone.”

Maddie couldn’t believe it. She was literally being locked out of the “Good Old Boy’s Club,” and Rory was clearly taking credit for all of her hard work. She wished she could break the door down and force the guard to arrest her, but she wanted the fans to have a perfect night. To make sure that happened, she still had a lot of tasks to juggle. But she was madder than she had ever been in her life. Suddenly all of the vitriol from Carlton, Vinny, Herb and the Manders Matter podcast clicked into place for her. They were right all along. Monty was a billionaire asshole who didn’t give a shit about the team or the fans. He only cared about money, and Rory was a wannabe billionaire asshole who only cared about himself.

“Fuck you. You fucking sexist asshat!” she shouted at the guard and marched angrily back down to the field.

It was time for a special Independence Day edition of the Hot Dog Cannon. Tonight there were several cannons and many different dogs including bratwurst, kielbasa, footlongs, chorizo, and Italian sausage. Maddie met Tillie and several Dog Launch volunteers in the clubhouse tunnel.

“Everything OK, Boss?” Tillie asked. “You seem distracted.”

“I’ll tell you later. Everything with the event is fantastic. You’ve done an incredible job.”

“Too bad the team is losing by ten runs to the Iowa Cubs. Nothing we can do about that.”

“Isn’t that the damned truth?” Maddie spat.

At the end of the inning, the Hot Dog Cannon crew took the field. A series of fireworks went off beyond centerfield, and LED drones formed an enormous flying hotdog in the deep blue twilight sky. The crowd was on its feet, stamping, yelling, and waving their arms.

Maddie was armed with the Footlong Cannon, and she was angry enough to be a little reckless. Up to this point in the season, she had been conservative with the amount of fuel she used with her launcher, and that meant that the lower and middle seats got free dogs, but never the uppermost seats. Well not tonight! Everyone was getting a chance! She increased the jet propulsion capacity on her device. Just by a drop. Nothing too crazy. Or so she thought.

More fireworks exploded. Maddie aimed as high as she could and let her footlong dog loose. She lost her footing and her chosen trajectory shifted. There was a gasp from the crowd. Something had gone wrong. Maddie spun around and checked out the Jumbotron. To her horror, she saw Monty and Rory standing on the VIP suite balcony. Her projectile hot dog beaned the Gray Sox owner right in the face. He shouted obscenities that could be heard around the ballpark and fell backward, immediately rushed by Rory, security, and Maddie couldn’t tell who else. The crowd of Salamanders’ fans who recognized and despised Monty cheered.

The phone tucked in Maddie’s back pocket began vibrating madly. She had no place to hide. Thousands of happy witnesses had just seen her slamming the Gray Sox owner in the face with a hot dog, and she was certain that her career in baseball had just ended. This time for good.

CASTING CALL

BASEBALL INSPIRATION

The best July 4 moments in baseball history - MLB.com

The July 4 holiday is the anniversary of many historic moments in baseball, including Lou Gehrig’s “Luckiest Man on the Face of the Earth” farewell address at Yankee Stadium.

ELVIS NIGHT AND THE FLYING ELVI

The Flying Salamanders are based on the Flying Elvi, a skydiving team that jumps from planes dressed as Elvis. The group is a traditional part of the Chicago White Sox “Elvis Night” celebration every August. They parachute onto the baseball diamond to start the festivities. Thousands of fans come to the ballpark dressed as various incarnations of Elvis. After the game, fireworks and a concert celebrate the King of Rock and Roll’s music.