High Meadow

by Joan Wolf

  On the other hand, who knew with Kate? They would have to work out a way for her to keep her business. She wasn't likely to want to give up something she had spilled blood, sweat, and tears to build up. If they could work something out, and he thought they could, then he thought she would marry him, if he stayed in baseball or not.

  But he felt as if he was cheating her. At least, if he could pitch, she would have the prestige of being his wife.

  As if prestige matters to Kata!

  But he wanted it for her. He might not be able to give her children, but at least he could give her honor. At least it would mean something to be his wife.

  It wasn't a feeling he was proud of, and he knew Kate wouldn't care if he could no longer pitch. But his pride was involved. He wanted Kate to marry the best pitcher in the American League. He did not want her to marry a has-been.

  So he toiled diligently, working at strengthening his hand, working at throwing off the mound, and praying that his pitching would come back.

  * * *

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  Kate kept abreast of Daniel's progress by reading the New York Daily News. It was much more informative than Daniel himself was. So she knew when Daniel first threw in a preseason game, and she knew that he had not been able to get the ball over the plate. She knew that his second start showed some improvement, but he still walked far too many men. And she knew when the Yankee manager named Daniel as the starting pitcher for Opening Day at the stadium.

  "He's the ace of my staff," the manager was reported as saying. "I think he's going to be ready."

  There was a difference in opinions as to the wisdom of this decision among the newspaper's columnists. Mike Lupica thought that Daniel deserved the honor, while two other columnists thought it was putting too much pressure on Daniel, who wasn't ready yet.

  Kate agreed with the two other columnists.

  "Daniel hasn't managed to pitch two scoreless innings yet," she said hotly. Alberto had just come back from taking Molly to chemo to play with a friend. "How can Torre expect him to pitch on Opening Day? He'll be humiliated if he gives up a bunch of runs."

  "I would not be at all surprised to discover that Daniel asked to pitch the opening game," Alberto said. "It is a matter of pride. The best pitcher on the staff always pitches Opening Day."

  "He needs more practice innings before he pitches in a real game."

  "You may think that, maybe even Joe Torre thinks that, but clearly Daniel does not. He might surprise everyone and pitch very well."

  "God, I hope so."

  "If he has to come out, it will not be the end of the world," Alberto said calmly.

  After a moment, Kate said, "I suppose you're right. It just feels like a big deal to me."

  "It is a big deal. I don't mean to downplay it. But if Daniel doesn't do well, it won't mean that he's finished as a pitcher. It will just mean that he needs more work."

  Kate nodded. Then she said, "How did Mom do today?"

  "The same as usual. Her blood count was just high enough to allow them to give her the treatment."

  "That's good. She doesn't need this to be dragged out any longer than necessary."

  "She went upstairs to rest. I am cooking dinner tonight."

  "Alberto, you are an angel."

  "Thank you."

  "I'm just going to peek in on her and see if she's awake."

  "That's a good idea."

  When Kate gently opened the door to Molly's room, Molly said, "Come in, dear. I'm awake."

  Kate went over to stand beside her mother. "How did it go, Mom? Are you feeling sick?"

  "A little. Mostly, I'm tired."

  Kate looked down at her mother, silently noticing the ravages that the chemotherapy treatment had wreaked. Molly had not completely lost her hair, but it was pitifully thin, with her scalp showing through almost all over. She was white as a ghost.

  Kate bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "Only two more to go, Mom. Hang in there."

  "I don't have much choice," Molly said wryly.

  'Alberto is cooking dinner. Do you have the strength to join us?"

  "I'll come downstairs. I don't know if I'll be able to eat."

  Kate sat on the side of the bed, and said somberly, "I hate it that you have to go through this."

  "I know you do, dear. But, as you pointed out, it will be over soon. And people have been so kind."

  "Alberto has been a rock. I feel guilty that I've let him do so much."

  "You have commitments and, at the moment, Alberto does not. But you're right; he has been a rock." Molly sighed. "On an entirely different matter, do you think you could come with me to buy a wig?"

  Kate looked at her mother's hair. It was so thin. "Of course I can. When do you want to go?"

  "Perhaps we could go on Monday. You don't have lessons on Monday."

  "Monday would be great. Do you know where to go?"

  "There were cards at the hospital. There's a place in Orange that specializes in wigs for cancer patients."

  Kate leaned down and kissed her mother's cheek. "We'll go Monday In the meanwhile there's your old faithful baseball hat."

  Molly smiled faintly.

  Kate got up. "I'll leave you in peace. I'll come back when dinner is ready."

  "Thank you, dear."

  Once Kate was outside the door she had to stop to blink back tears. It was awful seeing her mother so fragile.

  Please, God, let her be all right. Don't let anything happen to her. I don't know what I would do without her.

  After a moment, she went downstairs on her way to the barn.

  Daniel came home on Tuesday, April 1. He called Kate from his house and left messages on both her office machine and the one in the house. Forty-five minutes later, Kate got the one in the office and called him back.

  It was so great to know he was close by. "You're home!"

  "Yes, I'm home. I have the rest of the day off. Can I come and see you?"

  Just hearing his voice sent shivers up and down her spine. "Of course. I have lessons from four to seven, though."

  "What time does your mother get home?"

  "She usually gets in about three."

  "How about if I come over right away? That would give us time."

  "Time for what?" Kate said with genuine curiosity.

  "Do I have to spell it out?" he asked dryly.

  "Oh. I just got it."

  "You never cease to amaze me."

  "Hah. Okay, come right over. I'll be finished up here in a half an hour."

  "I'm on my way."

  Kate was still in the barn when Daniel arrived. "Kate?" he called as he came down the center aisle.

  "I'm cleaning the bathroom," she called back.

  She was just finishing scrubbing the toilet when he walked in. The first thing he said was, "You shouldn't be cleaning the bathroom."

  Kate looked at his face. "It would be disgusting if I didn't clean it."

  His frown deepened. "Someone else should be doing this work."

  She said reasonably, "Why would it be all right for someone else to do it, but it's not right for me to do it?"

  He made an impatient gesture. "You know what I mean."

  She had been so happy to see him, and now he was annoying her. "No, I don't know what you mean. You seem to have some elitist idea that manual work is undignified and that only the lower classes should do it. I suppose it comes from growing up in a rich family and in a country where labor is cheap."

  He stared at her. She stared back.

  "There is absolutely nothing wrong with me cleaning the bathroom. I clean the bathrooms at home as well. Do you think we should have a cleaning woman in to clean our house?"

  She could tell from his face that he did.

  "You're a snob, Daniel," she said pleasantly.

  "Perhaps I am, but the fact remains that I hate to see my . . . my . . ." His voice trickled away as he tried to think of what to call her.

&nbs
p; "'My what?" Kate asked.

  He said with dignity, "The mother of my son doing such heavy labor."

  "Definitely, you're a snob. But I love you anyway. And I missed you."

  "I missed you, too." He held out his arms and they held each other and kissed.

  When Daniel finally raised his head, he said huskily, "I can't feel you at all. All I feel is layer upon layer of clothes."

  "Your jacket is pretty bulky too. Let's go up to the house."

  They held hands as they went up the path that led to the house, although neither of them spoke. They went in the front door, hung their coats in the closet, went up the stairs and into Kate's room. Daniel closed the door behind them.

  'Alone at last," he said.

  She smiled and began to unbutton her wool cardigan sweater. Daniel watched as she shed the sweater, a turtle-neck, an undershirt, and her bra. Then she peeled off her jeans, socks, and some more long underwear.

  "No wonder you're never cold," Daniel said with amusement. It had taken him only a few seconds to pull off his shirt, sweater, and pants.

  "It was in the thirties this morning. Even in April, New England can be cold," Kate replied.

  "I missed you," he said, moving toward her. "I missed you so much."

  "I know."

  Then he was kissing her again. Her arms went around his neck and after a moment he straightened, pulling her feet right off the floor, and began to walk toward the bed. He laid her down, then followed her.

  They kissed again and again and his hands were all over her. Kate's hands moved over him as well, feeling the strong muscles of his shoulders and back, moving down to caress the smooth skin that covered his lean hips.

  He groaned. "Kata. Oh, Kata."

  The exquisite tension was building inside of her, and she clung to him more tightly. He kissed her again, driving her head back into the pillow. She felt his terrible urgency and the tension in her loins ratcheted higher. Her body ached for him and when he moved to kneel over her, she arched herself for him, the surge of liquid in her vagina making it easy for him to enter. As he drove into her, the great waves of his coming washed over her, and a multitude of explosions flooded her body. The intensity of feeling was so great mat she cried out.

  Afterward they held each other, made wordless by the powerful experience they had just shared. Finally Daniel said, "I love you so much."

  "I love you, too. But we have to get up. Mom will be home soon."

  "I don't want to get up. I don't ever want to get up."

  "I know."

  More time passed.

  "Daniel, we can't stay here any longer. Mom will be scandalized."

  "I doubt that."

  "Well, I'll be embarrassed. Come on. Move that leg." And she shook the leg that was under his.

  "Oh, all right. I'll get up."

  Daniel had just finished dressing when Molly's car pulled into the driveway.

  "Go downstairs. Don't wait for me," Kate said. She was busy resuming all her discarded layers. "I don't want her to know we've been upstairs together."

  "Kata, I'm sure she knows that we've been sleeping together."

  "I'm sure she doesn't." She gave him a push. "Go."

  "All right, all right. I'll go."

  He left the door ajar and Kate listened as Molly came in the door and called, "Kate? Are you home?"

  "I'm here, Molly," Daniel called back from the kitchen. "Kata is upstairs."

  "Oh Daniel, you're back."

  Kate listened as Molly went toward the kitchen. She gave them five minutes together, then she went downstairs herself.

  * * *

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  Wednesday, April 2, was a bright, cold spring day, with high clouds scudding across the sky. Yankee Stadium was packed for opening day, and when Kate turned on the radio to listen while she was mucking out stalls and cleaning water buckets, the announcer was saying, "This will be a big test for Montero. He's thrown the ball hard but he's been wild in all of the exhibition games he pitched. Whether or not he's ready is an open question."

  "You can't blame Joe for going with him on Opening Day," the second announcer said. "The Yankees wouldn't be wearing World Series rings if it wasn't for Montero's pitching."

  "That's so. I guess Joe must figure he owes Daniel this start."

  Baltimore was up first, so Daniel was the first pitcher to throw. The announcer painted the picture for his listening audience: "Martin is at the plate, Montero is ready to throw. He deals and the pitch is outside. Ball one."

  "Come on, Daniel," Kate prayed as she tossed a pile of manure into a wheelbarrow.

  "Once again, Montero deals and . . . Whoa! That was so high it almost got away from Posada!"

  "Damn," Kate said.

  "You can be sure that Martin won't swing until Montero shows that he can get the ball over the plate."

  Which was exactly what happened. Martin walked on four pitches. Kate longed to see Daniel's face, but she couldn't go up to the house to watch TV until she had finished her barn chores.

  "Montero looks calm," the first announcer said.

  "Montero always looks calm. He would look calm if he was being driven to the guillotine."

  "Here's the first pitch—and it's a strike!"

  "Thank God," Kate said out loud.

  But the next four pitches were balls, and the batter walked.

  "Men on first and second, nobody out," the announcer said.

  The third batter came to the plate and this time Daniel managed to get two pitches over the plate, but the batter ended up walking.

  "When is Joe going to take him out?" the announcer wondered. "Are they going to let him give up a run?"

  But the manager remained in the dugout and Daniel pitched to the fourth batter, who swung at a ball close to the plate and grounded into a double play.

  "Will he get razzed in the dugout," the announcer said. "You'd think a player as experienced as Henderson would know enough not to swing when the pitcher is having such obvious control problems."

  The next batter never took the bat off his shoulder and walked on five pitches.

  "Here comes Joe," the announcer said. "Hitchcock has been throwing in the bullpen and, yes, Joe just signaled for him to come in. Joe reached the mound, and Daniel has handed him the ball. Now Montero starts for the dugout. . . Listen to that applause! People are beginning to stand! It's a standing ovation from a packed stadium for Daniel Montero as he walks to the dugout."

  The second announcer said, "Yankee fans have long memories. They know what Montero has done for them in the past."

  Kate had tears in her eyes. The ovation was wonderful. Daniel probably hated it, but it was a wonderful tribute to him.

  The first announcer said, "Montero just threw his glove down on the bench. He's upset."

  The second announcer said, "I'm sure he's upset with himself, not with Joe for taking him out. Daniel is such a competitor; he gets mad at himself if he isn't perfect."

  You've got that right, Kate thought.

  She left the game on as she finished her work, but her mind wasn't on it. She was thinking about Daniel and about how he must feel.

  He feels humiliated. He shouldn't, but he does.

  She brought in the second turnout, dropped hay from the loft for all of the horses, then went up to the house to make a few phone calls before walking to the bus stop to pick up Ben.

  Ben was all excited. "Is the game over? Did Daddy win?"

  "The game is still on, but Daddy only pitched the first inning. He has to be careful because of his hand, you know."

  Cyrus left the drive to investigate a rustle in the woods. After a moment of indecision, Samson followed him.

  "I have Little League practice today, Mommy. Do you remember that?"

  "I could hardly forget. You have been reminding me about it every day."

  "I'm going to be a pitcher."

  "I think you'll be hitting off the T, Ben. There aren't any pitcher
s until you get older."

  Having successfully treed a squirrel, the dogs rejoined them on the drive.

  "The T is for little kids."

  "I hate to break it to you, chum, but you are a little kid."

  "I'm not. I'm almost the tallest in my class. I'm taller than Connor."

  Kate said curiously, "Why are you always in competition with Connor, Ben? I thought he was your friend."

  He gave her a surprised look. "He is. Connor is my best friend."

  "Then why are you always so pleased when you can be better than him?"

  His surprise deepened to amazement. "I'm happy for me, Mommy; it doesn't mean I don't like Connor."

  Kate sighed and muttered, "It must be a boy thing."

  "I got a hundred on my math test, Mommy."

  "That's wonderful, Ben," she said warmly. "Good for you."

  He beamed. "Mrs. Fitzgerald said I have a good brain for math."

  "You do. You must take after your father that way."

  "Is Daddy good at math?"

  "I'm not sure, but I know your mother was not a math person. She was like Nana; she liked to read books."

  'Are you a math person, Mommy?"

  "A little bit. I can keep the books for my business, anyway."

  Ben said generously, "Connor is a good writer. His writing is better than mine."

  "It's nice that you give him credit," Kate said, holding back a smile.

  "I wish I was on the Yankees and not the Cubs," Ben said.

  "You have to go to the team you're assigned to."

  "I know, but I wish I was assigned to the Yankees."

  "Then you wouldn't be on the same team as Connor."

  "I wish Connor was on the Yankees, too."

  "Well, you're both on the Cubs. You don't have to play at all if you don't want to."

  "I want to play!"

  "Then stop complaining."

  "Who is going to take me to practice?"

  "Nana is going to take you and Connor, and Connor's mom will pick you up and bring you home."

  "Okay. I have homework. Do you want me to do it right away?"

  "Yes. But you can have a snack first."

  The two of them, along with the dogs, went into the house.

  When Molly returned from school the first thing she asked Kate was, "How did Daniel do? Is he still pitching?"