The Closer (20 page)

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Authors: Alan Mindell

BOOK: The Closer
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"Good luck, Terry."

He promptly recognized the voice and turned. Karen, leaning over the wall to his right, waved to him. His memory could be forgiven because so much time had elapsed, but he was almost sure that the first time she had called to him, back in Texas, she was wearing the same blue dress she had on today. She pointed up into the grandstand a few rows. Lauren, Billy and Tammy were sitting there, and they also waved to him.

What a surprise. Although he'd talked to them all this very morning, Sunday, none of them mentioned coming to the game. If he'd known, he would have gladly left tickets for them. Maybe they'd decided to come at the last minute. Whether they were there for the entire game, or just part, he had no idea.

He focused on his warm-ups. On using the proper grip for the knuckler. On coming over the top. On keeping his wrist stiff. Oakland did not score in the eighth, so he had only the two-run lead when he entered the game.

As he faced the first Anaheim batter, a righty, he concentrated on the same items again—concentration, what had been missing from all his performances lately. He had no excuse today. Everything was in his favor. All the more since Lauren, Billy, Karen and Tammy were present.

Except the favorable wind soon betrayed him. Not because it adversely affected his knuckler. It didn't. No, the batter hit a twisting pop up down the right field line. First baseman Steiner could have easily caught it, but the wind blew it barely out of his reach. Runner on first, no outs, potential tying run, a lefty, coming to the plate.

The lefty hit a towering pop fly behind shortstop—what should have been an easy play for Oates, except the wind intervened again. This time, at the last instant, it swirled the ball over his head, and it fell untouched to the turf. Tying runs on, still no outs.

Terry turned and looked fitfully beyond the left field bullpen. Of course he couldn't spot Lauren and the kids from that distance, however he could imagine them watching. About to view another of his disasters? About to witness firsthand his removal from the closer role?

He gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't let that happen. He concentrated hard on doing everything right. He threw a perfect "diver" over the outside corner. The batter, another lefty, hit one more pop up. Again the wind played its demonic tricks, this time causing the ball to evade third baseman O'Rourke. But the infield fly rule came into effect, so the hitter was automatically out.

Another knuckler to the next batter, a righty. One more pop up. It was Collie Quinn's turn to tackle elements. He was no more successful than his infield mates, all of whom had squandered their chances. Again, the wind imposed, the ball twisting to earth right at his feet. Fortunately, once more, the infield fly rule prevailed. Two on, two outs.

Terry knew he couldn't succumb to these strange occurrences. He
had
to maintain concentration. One more batter to get. "Grip, over the top, stiff wrist," he reminded himself.

He started the next batter with two knucklers in the dirt. He threw a diver for a strike. The batter, another righty, fouled off the next pitch. If Terry hadn't been so focused, he would have marveled at the poetic aspects of the situation. Two balls, two strikes, two outs, two on, a two-run lead.

The hitter lofted a fly to left field. With the prior results, Terry almost couldn't look. If the wind played tricks on Murdoch, the ball might slip past him, all the way to the wall. Both runners would certainly score. Tying the game. Another blown save. Demotion to follow.

Murdoch ranged to his right. The ball danced and dipped in the wind, as if it was a knuckleball. Murdoch wobbled briefly, but he stayed with it. His glove was like a magnet, attracting the ball. It landed in the pocket and remained. The game was over, Oakland had won. Terry had his first save in about three weeks.

After the obligatory postgame handshakes, he jogged toward the left field bullpen, hoping Lauren and the kids were still there. On the way, he crossed paths with Murdoch, who had obviously disdained the handshakes. Murdoch motioned him to stop.

"Those infield cats," he chastised. "Can't catch nothin' if it hit 'em in the head. All they know is to party."

Terry laughed.

"You're a head case yourself," Murdoch went on. "All you gotta do, get 'em hit the ball to me. What I'm there for."

Terry laughed again. He continued on to the bullpen. Lauren and the kids
were
still there. Waiting for him? Or simply waiting for the crowd to dissipate, so they could get easily to her car?

"What a surprise,” Terry greeted them as they stood above him, beyond the wall.

"Yay, Terry," Tammy shouted down at him.

"Should've let me know you were coming," he admonished.

"Didn't want to bother you," Lauren chuckled. "Heard you were...in distress."

He grinned.

"Wanted to give you a little inspiration," she added.

They had certainly done that. In more ways than one. Besides the game, just looking at her now, eyes gleaming down at him. Looking at the kids, obviously happy to be there.

He would have liked to have gone up in the grandstand right then, uniform and all, and given each of them a big hug.

 

"He's got his own life. And they're not so crazy about him, either."

Right after arriving at Lauren's house, Terry was able to verify the accuracy of her words, spoken weeks ago, about her brother Steven and the kids. It was the final night before the long homestand would end, and she wanted him to meet her brother prior to the next road trip.

He quickly noticed that, in Steven's presence, the kids were far more restrained than usual. Steven, a gruff chunky man with a beard, obviously many years older than Lauren, seemed very studious and devoted to his profession. He soon made his specialty known—dermatology—and spoke of it several times during the hour or so he was there.

Once Steven left, Terry happily fulfilled his regular stints in the children's rooms. Tammy was even more gleeful than normal as she showed him some pictures she'd painted at school. And Billy set a record for chattiness in Terry's company, contributing more than two dozen words to their conversation.

"He's becoming downright talkative," Terry beamed to Lauren afterward, the two of them at their customary stations on her living room couch. "I couldn't get a word in edgewise."

"I doubt that," she replied, shaking her head.

"He's doing good, that's the important thing," he commented. "All three kids are doing good. You've done a terrific job..."

She smiled that wonderful smile again. He loved being on her couch like this with her. He really didn't need anything else. Simply her nearness was enough.

And yet he couldn't keep from trying to kiss her. Even with the kids close by, making noise in their rooms. Even though she had rebuffed him less than two weeks ago.

Surprisingly, she let him. And let him kiss her again. And again. Finally, after the fourth kiss, he decided not to push his luck.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't help myself."

She touched his hand.

 

Terry followed up his nice "pop up" performance with another good outing, versus Anaheim again, on the final day of the homestand. Oakland won 3-1. Once more, Lauren and the kids attended, and sat in the same section behind the bullpen. This time, though, Terry knew they were coming, and arranged tickets.

His good pitching continued throughout the road trip. He converted four consecutive save opportunities. However, unfortunately, the team continued its spotty play, and got thrashed in all five of the other games on the trip.

The club arrived back in Oakland late Labor Day night, now trailing Texas by eight games, New York by six and a half. With only twenty-five games remaining in the regular season, it was crucial that they develop some positive momentum during the upcoming homestand, or forget any chance for the playoffs.

Fortunately, their schedule did include the two teams they were chasing. On the next road trip, they had three games in Texas. And at the end of this week, they had four with New York in Oakland.

A sweep of both series would no doubt propel them right back into contention.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"What do you think?" Lauren asked right after the middle-aged man and woman left the interview room at the adoption agency.

"I think they're nice," Terry answered.

"But would they make good parents?"

"They've already made good parents," he replied. "Two grown children of their own."

"I think that's the problem."

"What?" he questioned, a little puzzled.

"They're too old."

He didn't answer right away. The couple had been the fifth he and Lauren had interviewed that morning at the agency located on the ground floor of an old building in downtown San Francisco. All five couples had seemed solid candidates to him. All five had a fault or two, however, according to Lauren.

"I think," he finally said while they awaited the next interview, "that you're looking for perfection."

"They're my kids," she replied succinctly, as if no further explanation were needed.

"Well, I'm far from perfect too," he shrugged. "I guess that makes me as good a candidate as these other people."

"You're not a candidate," she said straightforwardly.

"Why not?" he was curious.

"You couldn't get court approval."

"Why not?" he was still curious.

"Very simple," she promptly answered. "You're not married."

"That's not a proposal, is it?" he winked.

She looked at him strangely. He winked again. She continued to look at him strangely.

"Another reason," she finally said. "You're a baseball player..."

"Bad role model? Better I be a doctor or a lawyer?"

"It's not that. It's all the time away from home."

He nodded, shrugged and frowned all at the same time. Probably his mixed responses were because he hadn't intended this discussion and didn't know how to react to it. In truth, he hadn't even given this particular subject much thought.

"And yet, I can't deny the kids like you," she spoke as if she was no more than thinking out loud. "No question about Billy and Tammy, and even Karen, who can be very picky. I watched her at the circus that time."

"So I am a candidate."

"No you're not," she said firmly. "You're not married."

"You're proposing again," he winked once more.

 

Walking toward the drug rehabilitation wing of the hospital, Terry felt quite content for a couple of reasons. Two hours ago he'd pitched a perfect ninth to close out a 6-4 afternoon victory over Minnesota, and Oakland had swept the series, giving them a perfect start to the homestand, before the important four game confrontation with New York.

Terry was here because Murdoch had invited him to a little ceremony. Carly had finished the drug program and tonight was her graduation. He reached a lobby outside the drug wing, and saw Murdoch and Carly standing together, chatting. When they noticed him, they both greeted him warmly, Carly with a hug. She wore a stylish tan pantsuit and Terry couldn't help comparing her appearance now with those first days in the hospital.

"Glad you could come, Uncle Terry," she spoke cheerily.

"Congratulations, Carly."

She grinned. So did Murdoch, possibly at her continuing to refer to Terry as her uncle. Carly excused herself to welcome another guest, a young man Terry assumed was a drug program participant.

"She looks great,” Terry told Murdoch. "Wish you'd let me bring her a gift."

"No gifts,” Murdoch emphasized, using the same words Terry recalled him using when inviting him. "Want nothing spoiling my little surprise."

Terry
was
surprised in the very next instant. Lauren, dressed in a dark slacks and blouse combination, entered the lobby with Billy, Karen and Tammy, also nicely attired. None of his recent conversations with them, the latest occurring just this morning, offered any inkling they'd be here.

"Why didn't you tell me they were coming?" he asked Murdoch. "That your little surprise?"

Murdoch's only response was a twinkle in his eye, and to quickly leave the lobby. Lauren and the children came over to Terry, taking turns hugging him.

When Carly spotted Lauren, she rushed right over, screaming excitedly. More hugs, these accompanied by tears. Tears of obvious joy.

Lauren introduced her to the kids. Another round of warm hugs.

 

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Terry asked Lauren once Carly left them to greet other guests. "I didn't expect you."

"Shhh. It's all a surprise."

"On who?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," she smiled.

"How long?"

"Maybe five or ten minutes."

It actually took only five or ten seconds. Terry noticed Murdoch return to the lobby. He was carrying something in his arms. Something wrapped in a blanket. Was it a baby? No question, it was a baby. As Murdoch came closer, Terry could see a tiny brown face beneath the blanket.

Suddenly Carly gasped. And rushed to Murdoch. He handed her the baby. As she held it, Lauren went over and hugged her again.

"Ladies and gentlemen,” Murdoch announced loudly. "I'd like to introduce Joshua, my grandson."

 

"So that was Murdoch's
little
surprise
." Terry said to Lauren once she returned to him and the children.

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