Chapter Two: The Marvelous Aunt Esme
The shock of seeing Carlton again and her lousy performance on his podcast tortured Maddie for the rest of the day. She kept pushing it out of her mind, but part of her still couldn’t accept that Carlton had been so unkind to her. Or that he was a legendary ex-pitcher and a freaking Gray Sox fan all this time!
It didn’t help that she felt a ton of pressure to find a place to live in the next two hours. On her pitiful salary, she couldn’t afford to stay at the Gum Drop Motel any longer. She had a dozen places to look at before nightfall, and she found it hard to believe how much rent landlords were asking for apartments in terrible condition in a small resort town surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains. There was only so much water damage and so many cockroaches one woman could take before she threw in the towel.
Worn out and disheartened, she climbed back into Harriet’s front seat and bumped her way to Aunt Esme’s house. At least this would be a welcome break. Esme had invited Maddie to dinner, and she had a natural talent for fun. She had lived in Sweetgum for the past twenty years, and Maddie used to visit her as a child. Sometimes they ran into each other in Chicago where most of the Fields family lived. Esme was her father’s beloved older sister, and her visits often meant outings to Wrigley Field with lots of stats talk over frosty glasses of Goose Island beer.
Maddie admired her aunt for being more free-spirited than the rest of the family. She had been a costume designer in Chicago and New York. Years ago, after her divorce, she moved to a duplex in Sweetgum and made the surprising transition to small-town life. Maddie sensed that the divorce was messy and the details were not generally discussed. Now that she was an adult, Maddie wondered if Esme might tell her what had happened, but she didn’t want to be pushy or bring up a painful subject.
The duplex was just how Maddie remembered it: cozy, inviting, and comforting. A pleasant lamp glow came from the front windows. Maddie strolled down the path to the front door, taking solace from the overflowing, fuchsia azaleas and the cheerful clumps of moss rose nestled along the right side of the house. Her aunt’s gardening style was like her personality: colorful, vibrant, happily disheveled, a little over-the-top, but somehow artful. A knock on the door was greeted by the baying of two beagles and admonishments to hush and behave for company.
Esme opened the door and immediately wrapped her niece in a giant hug. “I am so glad my baby niece is finally back! I’ve missed you so much, honey!”
Tears welled up in Maddie’s eyes. It had been a long, hard day, and she didn’t realize how badly she needed a hug and how much she missed her aunt. “Thanks, Esme.” Maddie took a step back out of the embrace and smiled. “You look…kind of odd. What are you wearing?”
“What? You’ve never seen a Moroccan takchita before? I realize I’m not a bride, but I saw all this gold and braiding and I just had to get one.”
Maddie laughed and her muscles unclenched for the first time in hours. “And where exactly does one wear a takchita if there’s not a Moroccan wedding handy?”
“I don’t know, honey. I’ll keep you posted. I’ve been testing it around the house, trying to think of someplace else I could wear it.”
Typical Esme. Buy the dress, figure out the event later. But Esme could pull it off. She looked very much like the madcap aunt of Maddie’s childhood: tall and curvaceous with high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and long, honey-blonde hair, now touched with streaks of silver and piled in an effortless updo on top of her head. Esme was not classically pretty, but she had a joyful spirit and a distinct, unconventional kind of beauty. She was wearing her usual loud and large earrings. This pair looked like disco balls, about half the size of her fists. Maddie loved them and felt grateful to be here and bask in her aunt’s affection. It was just what she needed. She decided to set aside her worries and enjoy being reunited with Esme.
Maddie bent down and petted the excited beagles who were still circling by the door. “Who are these cuties and where did you get them?”
“Meet Sosa and Sandburg, my rescue dogs. They’re from right here in Sweetgum. And they’ve already eaten. Don’t let them guilt you into snacks.” Esme led Maddie into her dining room. She had turned it into her sewing room and stacks of fabric were everywhere, neatly folded and organized by pattern and material type.
Maddie recognized her grandmother’s old China cabinets. They were stuffed with more fabric—piled high in a riot of bright colors—instead of the antique, gold-rimmed dishes Maddie remembered from her grandparents’ house. One end of the dining room table held two tasteful, mid-century modern place settings and a centerpiece of fresh wildflowers arranged with casual grace in an empty kombucha bottle. Esme’s sewing machine and yes, more fabric, had been pushed to the other end of the table.
Esme brought out the food while Maddie told her about her apartment hunt. “I know shag carpeting has made a comeback, but this place was grim. The worst of the Seventies. With a matted path showing exactly where everyone had walked on it for the past 50 years. My favorite part was when the landlord said he’d let me use his shag rug rake for free. I walked out.”
“Good instincts, dear. Never rent a place with carpeting twice as old as you are.”
Maddie dipped a wedge of toasted pita into a dish of homemade hummus. “Mm, this is heavenly! What’s your secret? I made hummus once and it tasted like paste with sand in it.”
“Soak the garbanzo beans in hot water and remove the peels before putting them in the blender. Brings out the flavor and makes the hummus smooth as silk.”
“Only you would peel garbanzo beans. But thanks, I really needed this.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t have much luck with finding new digs.” Esme tapped the table with one manicured fingernail, making Maddie nervous. It was a sure sign of her aunt’s scheming mind at work.
Maddie sighed heavily. “By the fourth apartment showing, I was having serious doubts about the available housing stock around here. Should anyone feel good about a place that has Roach Motels literally on the kitchen counter? When I turned on the bathroom light, a small army of water bugs crawled back down the bathtub drain.”
“OK, OK! I get the idea!” Esme protested. “Please, no more bug talk during dinner or I’ll have to toss all this food in the trash. I’m getting queasy! I call a moratorium.”
“Yeah, it’s not very appetizing, is it? Sorry! Sometimes I start telling a story and I forget when to stop.”
“Maddie, I’ve watched you grow up. You’ve spent most of your life not knowing when to stop. That energy is one of your greatest charms. If you ever learn to harness it, you’ll rule the world.”
“Well, I just want to rule the baseball world. And there’s no chance of that until I claw my way back up the ladder by being the best damned PR person the Sliding Salamanders have ever seen.” Maddie paused to squeeze some lemon on her tabbouleh salad. “Actually, I’m not even close to any corporate ladder anymore. I’ve got to be the best damned PR person in history just to catch sight of the ladder again. I can do it, though.”
“I don’t doubt you. Not in the least. But I want to help.”
“No! I won’t let you swoop in and take care of me like I’m a kid. I got into this mess on my own and it’s my responsibility. Besides, you’ve helped a lot. You were the one who told me about this job. I wouldn’t be in Sweetgum without you. But I have to make my own way here. Serve my time. Do my penance.”
Esme opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and poured two generous glasses. “Doing time? Penance? What do you think you’ve done? Committed murder? And I object to your characterization of Sweetgum as either Prison or Hell. You sound like your mother’s side of the family. Pick yourself up by your bootstraps. I can’t tell you how much I hate that expression. It makes no sense at all. Wouldn’t you just fall over if you did that?” Esme took a deep breath followed by a big sip of Sauvignon Blanc. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cast dispersion on half your family tree, They’re fine people in many ways. But please let me offer—”
Maddie put her hands over her ears. “Not listening!”
“Oh, I am so glad you are not acting like a child, Maddie! Come on. You know what I’m thinking. Move into my carriage house out back. It’s empty. It just needs a good spring cleaning. There’s a bathroom. And a kitchenette. Use my laundry when you need it. The place comes with my personal guarantee: no shag carpet, water bug armies, or Roach Motels. Please. I’d love having you.”
“I appreciate the offer, I really do. Don’t get me wrong. I love you dearly. But it would be like living in my parents’ basement or something.” As Maddie voiced her fear, she thought about Carlton and the studio in his father’s basement. Was he living there, too? How bizarre would that be if they both ended up mooching off relatives in the same small town connected to the same down-and-out minor league baseball team? That sounded like the baseball trickster gods at work again. Hadn’t they done enough? They needed to back off and leave her alone for a while.
Esme was not backing off. She grinned mischievously. “Oh right. Are you afraid that you can’t bring home any cute baseball players for wild sex? I assure you that I can’t hear anything that goes on over there. And I think that would be an excellent plan for you to be honest. You seem very, very uptight.”
“Oh my God, no! I’m definitely not doing that. I’m going to be working. All the time. Every day. And night. Late, late nights.” Maddie waved her hand in front of her face like a fan which was almost completely useless. She was losing her ability to stay firm and to reject Esme’s invitation. Not about wild baseball player sex. She had sworn that off after Gabriel Bella in grad school. His nickname was “The Archangel”, and it wasn’t just about his otherworldly athleticism on the baseball field. She didn’t want to think about him or all the mistakes she had made back then. But maybe Esme was right. The carriage house was a different matter. Moving in would save time and money. And Esme provided a life-affirming boost of positive energy. She could use more Esme-time; that was undeniable.
“All right, you win,” Maddie said. “But I’m paying rent. And helping with yard work. And I could do your laundry, too, and the house cleaning.”
“Would you stop! You just said you’re going to be working all the time. I will not accept rent from my family. Save your money. But I’ll trade you for comp Salamander tickets.”
Maddie laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think that will be a problem. Thank you so much.” She pulled Esme into another hug.
“Can I get scouts’ seats?’ Esme winked.
“I doubt we have any. It would be nice if we did. That would mean we had players that baseball scouts wanted to see. We can always dream.”
Esme smiled her biggest smile. “We can always dream. Thank God. That’s settled. Give me a day to get ready, and you can move in tomorrow.” Esme picked up the dinner dishes and headed for the kitchen.
“You planned this from the start, didn’t you?” Maddie asked. “I walked right into your trap. Like a bug drawn to your Roach Motel.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean! And we said no more bug talk. That’s in my standard lease. No mention of insects at the table unless it’s some kind of bug emergency which frankly I cannot imagine.” When Esme got to the kitchen door, she turned around. “Oh, I should mention—Sal the Salamander? He lives next door.”
Maddie almost spit out her wine. The first sip she had taken. Finding a place to live was such a relief, she could finally enjoy a drink. “You live next door to a salamander?”
“Not a salamander. The salamander. The Manders’ team mascot. Sure, you can laugh all you want, but Sal is quite a star in this town. He was the biggest celebrity at the grand opening of the new Food Lion last May. I’m serious. He’s the most popular thing about that whole team.”
Maddie had heard a few stories about the mascot, and she had plenty of ideas about how to make better use of his popularity. “Is Sal a nice person? Easy to work with? I hope?”
“He’s a regular horse’s arse,” Esme disappeared into the kitchen and shouted over the sound of clattering dishes and running water. “But I do find him amusing. Cooper Kinsman thinks he is God’s gift to women. I am amazed at how often the fake lizard actually gets the girl. But I’m not judging. What goes on between two consenting adults is none of my business.”
“What about a consenting adult and a reptile?” Maddie shouted. She gathered the few remaining dishes and followed her aunt to the kitchen sink.
“Gross! I might have to deny you dessert after that remark.” Esme turned off the water, dried her hands, and breezed over to the fridge. “And dessert is strawberry shortcake, so that is not something you want to happen.”
Maddie giggled, enjoying the familiar and much-missed joy of being silly with Esme. “OK then, what about two consenting reptiles? Better?”
Esme turned to face Maddie, hands on hips. “You don’t get invited out to dinner much, do you? At least in the civilized South, we don’t talk about bugs and reptile sex during a meal.”
Maddie huffed playfully. “Well, I’m not talking about casual reptile sex. I’m talking about heartfelt reptile romance. What if Sal found a soulmate? Like… Sally the Salamander. We could make a girl mascot! Dress her up in all kinds of outfits. And they could court between innings. Hey, it worked over in Hickory. Their mascot—Conrad the Crawdad—married his longtime sweetheart Candy, and their wedding was on the field during a game. It was a big success. And cost almost nothing. That’s exactly what we need here in Sweetgum.”
Esme’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that could be fun. And you know I’d make the costumes for Sally. I have more fabric here than I’ll use in two lifetimes. So, who’s going to play Sally? You can’t pay anyone, right?”
Maddie helped construct the shortcakes while she considered her aunt’s question. Again, she thought how soothing it felt to be in the kitchen with Esme. Making each other laugh, doing something as simple as shaking a can of Ready Whip and spraying heaps of it on a pile of sliced strawberries and pound cake.
“Aunt Esme, I don’t suppose you would—”
“Don’t even think about it. I’m a costume designer, not an actor.”
“But you’re naturally funny! You’d be hilarious. People would love you.”
“Do you want me to take my offer back and force you to move in with shag carpet rakes and Roach Motels?”
“Never mind. You’re doing too much for me already. I can do it myself. It doesn’t have to be every game. It’ll be easy to get together for costume fittings with you since I’ll be living here. And Sal lives next door so we can rehearse whenever.”
“Maddie, Maddie, Maddie,” Esme shook her head. “You’re biting off more than you can chew again. Simplify! That’s how you can harness all that energy of yours. Stop doing so damned much all the time!”
“I don’t have a choice! There’s no funding to do the events I wanted, so this will help fill in the blanks. It’s perfect.”
“Fine. I know better than to argue with you, but there’s still one very important thing to be careful of.”
“Reptile sex?”
“Exactly.” Esme wagged her finger at Maddie. “Watch out for Sal. He’s a menace!”
“I can handle him. And we’ll be wearing Salamander costumes so…”
“That won’t stop Cooper.”
“Trust me. I’ve got this!” Maddie finished off her shortcake with a flourish. She had survived a cataclysmic first day on the job, and she was still standing and coming up with solutions. She felt like herself again. Confident and upbeat. It confirmed that she was doing the right thing by taking Esme’s carriage house.
The thought crossed her mind that Carlton might see her playing Sally and flirting with Sal at the games. To her deep and everlasting embarrassment, she wondered if he might be even the slightest bit jealous of an amorous salamander.
RELATED ART
The Moroccan takchita evolved in the 16th century from the classic kaftan. Today, it's the centerpiece of Moroccan bridal and high-fashion wear, celebrating a centuries-old synthesis of Berber and Andalusian textile traditions.
CASTING CALL: THE ACTORS IN OUR IDEAL WILDE PITCH CAST
Diane Lane as Esme Fields
BASEBALL INSPIRATION
Esme’s rescue beagles are named for Chicago Cubs legends Sammy Sosa and Ryne Sandberg,
Sammy Sosa was a right fielder famous for explosive hitting power and his heated 1998 home run race with Mark McGwire. He was estranged from the Cubs for many years due to controversy over possible steroid use and the infamous corked bat episode of 2003, when an umpire discovered cork inside his shattered bat. Sosa claimed it was an accident. He had grabbed a practice bat instead of a regular game bat.
He was suspended and no evidence of cork was found in any of his other bats. Regardless of the scandals, Sosa was a remarkable player. He recently reconciled with the Cubs and apologized for “mistakes” which remained unnamed.
NEED PHOTO: (PHOTO SANDBERG)
Ryne “Ryno” Sandberg is one of the most beloved Chicago Cubs of all time. He redefined the position of second base, won nine consecutive Gold Glove awards, and was an All-Star ten consecutive times. On June 23, 1984, he became a national superstar for what’s now called the “Sandberg Game”. He went 5 for 7 with 7 RBIS, hitting two game-tying home runs in the 9th and 10th innings. He was an admired ambassador for the Cubs organization for many years and died much too young from cancer in 2025.
FUN WITH MASCOTS
Major League Baseball’s first mascot was Mr. Met, who made his MLB debut in 1964.
The concept of the mascot evolved from a variety of good luck charms used by baseball players.
In the early days, living animals were common. The Cubs featured a live bear outside Wrigley Field in 1916.
Mascots exploded in popularity in the 1970s with the San Diego Chicken and the Phillie Phanatic, created by the Phillies to rival the Chicken.
Two of the most amusing mascot incidents involve Tommy Lasorda, the fiery manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers.
Once LaSorda actually fought the Phanatic:
Possibly the best altercation involves Youpiii!, the mascot of the Montreal Expos. He’s the only mascot ever to get ejected from a game. Youppii! enraged Mr. Lasorda during a game that had gone to extra innings by putting on his pajamas (indicating he wanted to go to bed) and jumping up and down on the Dodgers dugout.
Youppi was the first mascot ejected from a baseball game | MLB.com
