“Butler?” Lorenzo exclaimed. “What have you been telling her, Channy?”
Chan held up his hands. “My mistake. Let’s start over. Paige, this is Lorenzo Wiggins. He stays here, but probably won’t be much longer. I expect he’ll be the starting centerfielder for the Cincinnati Reds by next spring. For now, we’re teammates.”
Paige blushed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lorenzo grinned. “He wishes I was the butler.”
“Paige did a great job in the commercial shoot today. She’s going to be a model.”
“I figured she already was.” Lorenzo spoke to Chan, but his eyes never left Paige.
“Come on in, Paige” Chan said. “We’ll let my butler finish washing the car.”
Chan led Paige through the garage, jumping at the last minute to avoid the spray of water Lorenzo sent his way.
The house was quiet. Within ten seconds that changed.
“Dad!” Ryan flew down the stairs like a derailed train, throwing himself at his father. Chan swooped him up and held him.
“Who’s that?”
“Ryan, this is Paige.”
Already a ladies’ man at six, Ryan smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hey Ryan. Chan, I didn’t know you had a son.”
“Yep.”
“We’re still going to the movies, right?” Ryan asked.
“A promise is a promise.”
Ryan bellowed up the stairs, “We’re going to the movies!”
“I’m ready.”
Paige looked toward the stairs.
“My daughter, Lani.” Chan said, then louder, “Lani, come down and meet Paige.”
Paige watched her make her way down the steps, surprised again.
“Hi. Are you going to the movies with us?”
“Hey Lani. I guess I am. I kinda invited myself. Chan, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know—”
“Don’t apologize. I should have told you. We’re going to see the new Pixar movie. Is that okay with you?”
Paige laughed. “Yeah, I mean, I haven’t been to one of those since I was maybe ten.”
“I don’t get to go to PG-13 movies yet,” Lani said, frowning at her father. “And I’m thirteen.”
###
It was ten-thirty when they returned to Paige’s apartment complex. A carefully choreographed change in the seating arrangement had Paige and Lorenzo sharing the middle seat, with Ryan behind them. Lani was in front.
“Thanks for letting me go along, Chan... Mr. Manning.”
“Glad you could make it.”
“I’ve got your number, Paige,” Lani said. “I’ll call you the next time we’re doing something.”
“Awesome Lani. Thanks. Bye, Ryan.”
“Chan, I’ll walk Paige to the door, make sure she gets in okay.” Lorenzo scrambled out.
“Lo’s in love!” Ryan said, seconds after the door closed.
“She’s so pretty,” Lani said.
“No prettier than you,” Chan said. He could see his daughter’s smile in the dashboard lights. Her mother’s smile. It had been more than a decade, and thoughts of Sheryl Kapule could still make his heart ache.
“She thought she was going on a date with you, didn’t she, Daddy?”
“Yeah, maybe, at first.”
“Does she know you’re old enough to be her father?”
Chan wagged his finger at Lani. “I am not old enough to be her father.”
“Okay, her much older uncle.”
When Lorenzo returned. Ryan crawled over the seat to sit next to him.
“Wow! Thank you, Channy!”
“She thought she had a date with Daddy,” Lani said.
Lorenzo laughed. “Your daddy never had a chance once Paige met the babe magnet.”
“Did you set up a time to get together again, babe magnet?” Chan asked.
“We swapped digits. We’ll talk.”
“Pretty sad, Lo. You need Daddy to be your wingman,” Lani said.
Chan listened absently to the banter as he drove home. Lorenzo had been with them for four months, but already was part of the family. Any initial worries Chan might have had about a twenty-one-year-old living in the same house with his thirteen-year-old daughter were long gone. Lorenzo was a big kid himself, and his relationship with Lani and Ryan was like a big brother. They adored him.
“Day game tomorrow,” Chan said as they pulled into the garage. “You guys want to go?”
“Are you pitching?” Ryan asked.
“Sure am.”
“We’re there,” Lani said.
SIXTY
“Ball four!”
Chan kicked the pitching rubber and wiped the sweat from his face. The Pawtucket shortstop was a .230 hitter. There’s no way he should have gotten a free pass. The Bats’ pitching coach popped out of the dugout, making a beeline for the mound. Javier and Greg, the Louisville Bats’ catcher and second baseman, joined them.
“I screwed up, Teddy. I’ll get the next guy.”
“Skip’s got you on a short leash, Channy. We need this game to keep up with Indy in the standings.”
“I’ll get out of it.”
“Javy, what’s he got?”
The catcher shrugged. “Curve’s just okay. Slider’s gone.”
“Okay big guy, stick with the curve. Try to keep it away from ‘em.”
“What about the heater?”
Chan and Ted stared at each other. The pitching coach laughed first.
“How long have we been together, Channy?”
Motioning to Javy and Greg, Chan grinned.
“Since these two were in junior high.”
Ted nodded and patted him on the backside.
“Stick to the curve.”
###
Chan put on the headset and moved to the far corner of the empty dugout, shooting a thumbs-up to the guys in the broadcast booth.
“Chan, we’re on in three, two, one...”
“This is Brock Tyson back at Louisville Slugger Field where the Bats defeated the Pawtucket Red Sox three to one today. Our guest is pitcher Chan Manning. Chan, congratulations on the win.”
“Thanks Brock. It was one of the toughest this year. Pawtucket has some talented young hitters.”
“Chan, this win improved your record on the year to eleven and five. There’s talk that you might earn your first callback to the Reds in seven years. Any truth to that?”
“Nobody’s said anything to me, but that’s the goal of anybody who puts on the uniform. I’ll keep giving it my best and see what happens.”
“You did a nice job getting out of that jam in the seventh, Chan. Were you surprised to be back out there for the eighth?”
“I thought I still had something left. Thankfully we have a bullpen that can help me out if I need them. I’m glad they were there for me in the ninth.”
“Chan, our stats guys just pointed out something I had missed. Were you aware that this was your ninety-ninth career win as a pitcher for the Bats? What’s that mean to you?”
Chan laughed. “I wasn’t aware of that. I guess more than anything, it means I’ve spent a long time in Louisville.”
“Well, you and your family have certainly become an important part of this city, and when you take the mound next Monday against the Norfolk Tides, you’ll be looking for victory number one-hundred. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds great, Brock, and I hope our fans come out. It’s always more fun to pitch in front of a packed house.”
“There you have it from Louisville’s long-time ace. Chan Manning, thanks again and good luck Monday night.”
###
“Daddy, do you think you’ll go back to Cincinnati?” Lani had been listening to Chan’s interview while she and Ryan waited for him and Lorenzo.
Chan sighed. Getting back to the bigs was the reason he kept going. Still, he didn’t want to get the kids’ hopes up. Or his own for that matter.
“Lani-girl, it’s possible but not likely. It�
�s been a long time.”
“I can’t even remember when you played for the Reds,” Ryan said.
“I can. I was in first grade. Mrs. Matchett took care of me when Daddy was gone.”
“Lo’s the one who’s headed to Cincy.” Chan glanced at his teammate, riding shotgun. “Two more hits today, and did you guys see that catch he made in the eighth?”
“You were straight out horizontal to the ground, Lo!” Ryan said excitedly. “They showed the replay four times!”
“He saw it,” Chan said with a grin. “Didn’t you, Lo?”
“Ain’t got no time to watch replays,” Lo frowned. “When I’m on that field, I’m working.”
“You saw it,” Lani said. “Don’t say you didn’t. I saw you out there, holding your glove over your face. You were watching the replay the entire time.”
Lorenzo flashed his goofiest grin. “Okay I saw it, and it was gooooood!”
###
Ryan headed off to bed when they got home. Lani was reading in her room, leaving Chan and Lorenzo alone in the living room. Chan occupied one end of the oversized sofa, Lorenzo the other.
“You mind if I turn on the news?” Chan reached for the remote.
“Don’t come on until eleven.” Lorenzo worked hard on his diction, but when they were alone he usually slid back into the Georgia drawl that reminded Chan that he was really just a country kid.
“You’re familiar with CNN, right?”
Lo stretched out his legs on the scuffed coffee table. “Okay, but turn back to the Louisville news later. I want to see if they show my catch.”
They watched silently as the world events of the day unfolded.
“Reds lost,” Lorenzo said, noting the sports scores scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
“Tavish pitched again,” Chan said. “He’s getting knocked around.”
Lorenzo sat up suddenly. “Which is exactly why I think you’re headed up.”
Chan shook his head.
“Why not, Channy? Look around. Who else is pitching as good as you?”
“The Reds have a lot invested in Tavish. They won’t give up this quickly.”
“He’s killing ‘em. Ain’t made it out of the fourth inning yet,” Lorenzo slumped back on the sofa.
Chan shrugged, his eyes glued to the screen. He would never admit it, but he felt his time might be close. Lo was right. The rest of the Bats’ pitching staff was young and erratic. At least six of them would eventually make the big leagues, but they weren’t ready yet.
That left him.
###
The chirp of his cellphone roused Chan from his drowsy state. The clock on the television read eleven-forty. Lorenzo had reclaimed the remote and switched to ESPN.
“Hey Barry.”
“Oh man, I knew I waited too late to call. You already in bed?”
“Dozing on the sofa. What’s up?”
“You got time tomorrow to talk?”
“Sure. How about in the morning?”
After a few minutes of pleasantries Chan clicked off and stretched.
“What’s up with Barry?” Lorenzo stretched and yawned.
“He didn’t say. Probably wants to update me on some financial stuff.”
“Did I tell you he tried to convince me to sign with him?”
Chan scoffed. “Really? He knows you have an agent.”
“Yeah. Surprised me too.”
“I’ll tell him to lay off. Barry’s good for what I need. He knows everybody in Louisville, but he’s not right for you. Stick with Clevon. He’ll do better for you when you get to the big leagues.” Chan playfully tapped him on the forehead.
“And you will get to the big leagues.”
SIXTY-ONE
Near the end of his third season in Louisville, Chan and his former agent, Lionel, had amicably parted company. Theirs was a good relationship, but Chan needed someone who understood minor league life. Barry had been representing him for the past four years. He could be loud and abrasive, but he handled Chan’s finances like a trusted friend.
The secretary was away from her desk when he arrived, so Chan went straight to Barry’s office. He was at his desk, head down, hard at work. Pushing sixty, Barry was obese, suffered from high blood pressure, and smoked like a car fire. His suits were off the rack and usually spotted with cigarette burns. Still, in a city that respected loyalty, Barry was revered as the local kid who made good. His courtside seats at the Universities of Louisville and Kentucky allowed him to get acquainted with some of the bluest blue chippers in the country. He had made a fortune representing athletic prodigies who were drafted by the NBA. Most dropped him after a couple years, when his limited national connections became evident, but the money he earned negotiating their first contracts and signing bonuses had set him up for life.
“A man could come in here and take everything you own.”
Barry jumped, dropping his pen.
“Oh, hey Chan. Come on in. Where’s Helene?”
“How would I know? She’s your secretary.” Chan crossed the room and shook Barry’s outstretched hand.
“I got a lot for you,” Barry said. “Let’s sit at the conference table. I told Anne you were coming in. She wanted me to give you this.” Barry retrieved a pie from the credenza and placed it in front of him. Chan picked it up and breathed deeply.
“Nobody in Louisville makes Derby Pie like your Anne.”
“She always asks about you, Channy. I think she likes you more than she does me. Did I tell you she made me cut back on the cigs? One pack a day now, and never in the house or office. She’s got Helene spying on me.”
Chan nodded. “I noticed it wasn’t as smoky in here. Good for Anne.”
Barry grimaced. “She’s a pain is what she is. A pack of smokes a day. One glass of wine with dinner. And that Derby Pie – wanna know how long it’s been since she made one of those for me? Too many sweets, she says.”
“Yeah, but you love her.”
“What can I say,” Barry smiled, shaking his head “She’s the only woman in Louisville who’d have stuck with me all these years.”
Chan liked how Barry never seemed in a rush. Even with the exodus of most of his NBA clients over the years, he represented a few big-name, big-money clients in other fields, people whose income potential surpassed anything Chan would ever see. He was still kind enough to make Chan feel he had all the time in the world for him.
Depositing his bulk in the chair next to Chan, Barry laid out pages covered with figures and spreadsheets.
“I’m going to start with the stuff you don’t want to hear.”
Chan nodded.
“You’re eating up too much of the cash you socked away.”
“Okay,” Chan replied slowly. “We discussed this last year. Expenses mount, but my salary hasn’t changed much. You know that.”
“Let me show you where you are.” Barry pulled a financial statement from the file, placing it between them.
“Your previous agent did a nice job investing the signing bonus you got from the Reds after college. We’ve rolled it over whenever we could, but you’ve been pulling some of it out.”
“Like I said, expenses.”
“The same goes for the money you earned the two years you were in the big leagues. You invested a couple hundred thousand of that, but you’re starting to dip into it, too.”
Chan studied the numbers.
“Where am I now?”
Using a pen, Barry directed his attention to the bottom of the page. “The last two years you’ve spent one hundred and thirty percent of what you’ve earned.” He pulled a portable calculator out of his pocket. “At this pace, factoring in increased expenses and level income, your savings and investments will be down to double figures in three years.”
Chan sighed. “A year before Lani starts college. I was hoping to have enough to cover that.”
“She’s a smart kid. You can always hope for scholarships.”
“What’s your
recommendation, Barry?”
The agent sat back and removed his glasses.
“The best thing would be a promotion back to the majors. The minimum salary is up to a half-million. We could probably get you something north of that. Even for a month you’d stand to make ninety grand. That would give you a nice cushion.”
“We can’t plan on that.”
“You’re pitching well. Arm feeling okay?”
“The arm’s great. Not even a twinge in three years. Still, I’d be shocked if the Reds made a move to bring me up. I’m thirty-four. I haven’t fit into their plans for years.”
“Don’t give up yet, Channy. I got people in Cincinnati telling me they might be making a move, and that move is you.”
This was news.
“Who are your people?”
“Just people, but they know other people.”
Could it be? Chan had been pitching well. He’d never recovered the velocity that two arm surgeries had claimed, but he was spotting his pitches better than ever. Would it be enough to get big leaguers out?
“I can’t depend on getting called up. What else did you come up with?”
“Well,” Barry flipped through several pages until he found a multi-colored pie chart. “This is a breakdown of your spending over the past three years. I’ve identified several things for you to consider.”
Chan motioned for him to continue.
“Put your kids in public school; stop homeschooling. It works great during the off-season, but look what you’re spending for a sitter when you’re on the road.” Barry pointed to a figure. “This is just the amount you’re spending when baseball and the school year overlap. Put the kids in school and you only need a sitter nights and after school.”
Even though he wrote the checks, the figure was a surprise. The kids loved Mrs. Hayes like a grandmother. She was in her fifties, on social security disability, and available anytime he was away. She would probably have watched the kids for less. Shoot, she probably would have watched them for free, but he wouldn’t dream of it.
Harvest of Thorns Page 27
