Authors: Chamein Canton
“God! Give someone a chance to pull out, why don’t
you?” she shouted. Car in gear, she nearly slammed into the
car behind her, causing the other driver to recoil. “Serves
you right, you donkey,” she huffed.
Her cell phone rang. It was E.D. She composed herself.
“Hey E.D., what’s the word?”
“I talked to Patrick and he says we’ll have an official
offer later today.”
Cathy was delighted “That’s great news. Have you told
Tim yet?”
“I just did and he’s going to call the Jacksons himself.”
“Good. He deserves to make this call. I’m just so glad it
worked out.”
“Makes two of us.” He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Okay, we’ll talk later.”
“Okay, Cathy.”
That was just the kind of news Cathy needed to hear.
The Chambers-Smith Agency now had 25 writers with
publishing contracts. Flying high, she caught her second
wind in time for a quick trip to the supermarket.
A bit of a bon vivant, Cathy picked up a few things for
the evening menu. She bought organic butter, shallots,
jumbo shrimp, basil, fresh-made pasta, mixed salad greens,
Pellegrino, light cream, prime aged parmesan cheese from
Italy and a large bag of Kona coffee beans. It was just
enough to fit in one bag. Now that her sons were away at
college, she had to lug the grocery bags into the house. Just
as Cathy was putting things away, the house phone rang.
“Hello?” Balancing a bag of shrimp, salad, basil and
butter, Cathy struggled to keep the phone to her ear.
“Hey, Cathy,” Madison said.
“Hi, Madison, hold on for a minute.”
“Sure.”
She set everything down on the counter. Cathy knew
Madison never had much in the way of groceries in his
house, unless she counted his
9 1/2 Weeks
stash. The call
was about dinner so she put it out there first.
“So you want to come to dinner tonight?”
“Oh, you’re inviting me over for dinner?” He tried to
act surprised. “I accept. What are we having?”
“Whatever I make for dinner since you don’t cook and
your harem is kitchen impaired as well.”
“That’s not entirely true; some of them are quite good
in the kitchen.”
“Getting busy on the butcher- block table doesn’t count
as a culinary skill,” she shot back.
“Maybe not but it sort of rhymes with culinary.”
Image flashing in her mind, Catherine grabbed her
stomach. “This is a first. A Maalox moment before dinner.
You sure know how to ruin an appetite.”
“Ha. Very funny.”
“Listen I’m hot, tired and I just walked in from the
store. I’ll see you a little later. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Cathy glanced at the clock as she put the shopping bag
in the recycle bin.
I guess Madison wrapped his pillaging up
early.
She giggled to herself. When they were teenagers
Cathy always said Madison was going to be a lawyer or a
gynecologist. For her part, she was glad he’d gone into law.
Cathy felt a twinge in her back when she reached down
to get a saucepan and she gingerly straightened. The twinge
served as a reminder of a car accident she’d had years ago.
Hit by a drunk driver, she had been fortunate to walk away
with minor cuts and bruises. The real damage to her back
was invisible then, but as she’d gotten older she’d had to
deal with more nagging aches and pains.
Erring on the side of caution, Cathy put cooking aside
for the time being and headed to her room to take a couple
of Advil. Back aching, she climbed the stairs as if she were
scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. Finally reaching the second
floor, Cathy smiled as she passed the autographed poster on
Alex and Andrew’s bedroom door. The cold air wafted over
her as she opened her bedroom door.
Thank God for central
air.
Advil popped, Cathy kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her dress and into her favorite Thurman
Munson shirt and lounge pants. She had a few hours before
the game to get dinner ready.
Game time was near. Players, sports reporters and
commentators milled around the field and the clubhouse.
The pre-game show was underway and with the pennant
race around the corner, they were looking for stories.
Although there wasn’t much dirt to be had at home games,
a few tabloid reporters hung around searching for back
room scenes or liaisons.
It wasn’t a total waste though, of tabloid reporters’
time. Single players were often easy fodder. Tabloids paid
good money to get the story of their latest paramour with
pictures. Most people thought a high profile single baseball player shouldn’t have any trouble meeting women.
The truth was somewhat different. Baseball was their life
for six to eight months of the year, counting spring
training. So they had limited options and sometimes got
involved with someone who was simply convenient. Such
had been the case with Marcus’s involvement with a local
sports reporter.
Barbara Ann Jones, a sports reporter with the number
one news program in New York stood near third base as
she gave her report. A petite brown-eyed, brunette beauty,
she and Marcus had dated for a few months before
deciding they were just friends.
The 6’2 native Californian and second baseman, Tim
Dugan, pointed to the television. “Hey look, Barbara’s
on.” Everyone looked up but Marcus.
“Wait. Are my eyes deceiving me?” Tim was incredulous.
“I’ve seen her on television before.” Marcus was dismissive.
“Didn’t you guys date at one time?”
“That was a while ago. We’re just friends now.”
Tim looked again at the television. “She’s something to
look at. Not that I’m looking at her in that way. I’m
married but I’m not blind,” he joked.
“We know. Just don’t say it too loud. Tabloid reporters
and their sources are everywhere,” Mark warned.
Tim turned to Marcus. “It’s nice that you guys are still
friends.”
Marcus nodded. “I think so, too. She’s a great person.”
Catcher Juan Lopez walked over from his locker. “So
which model is it?” Juan asked. He and Marcus had signed
with the Yankees the same year.
Marcus played cool. “What do you mean, which
model is it?”
“Come on, man, you must have traded up,” Juan
insisted.
“He just met someone,” Mark interjected.
Marcus flashed Mark a dirty look.
“I knew it,” Juan said excitedly.
Marcus was quickly surrounded by the infield players.
“She isn’t a model, actress or singer,” Marcus said.
“She isn’t?” John Ames seemed quite shocked.
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. I don’t just date
models, actresses and singers,” Marcus insisted.
The clubhouse broke into a roar of laughter. John
Ames, the good-natured first baseman, patted him on the
back. Tall and plagued with injuries in the beginning of
the season, John was back in the groove with a hitting
streak.
“Thanks, man, I needed a good laugh,” he grinned.
“Okay, guys, that’s enough. We need to leave the
captain alone,” Mark piped up.
“Okay, we’ll stop giving you a hard time,” Juan said.
Marcus sat down in front his locker. “Thanks.”
Tim waited a couple of minutes before approaching
Marcus again. “So what does she do?” Tim asked.
“She’s a managing partner of a literary agency,” Marcus
said.
“Oh, she’s a smart girl.” John stopped. “Not that the
other girls weren’t,” he quickly added.
“I know what you mean, John.” Marcus nodded his
head.
“Is she here?” Mark asked.
“No. I’m thinking of asking her to our next afternoon
game.”
“You should go for it.”
He thought about it for a second. “You know what,
Mark, I think I will. I’ll be right back.”
He left the clubhouse.
Marcus had a plan and he needed to talk to Ben, who
was talking to someone outside the general manger’s office.
“Excuse me, Ben. Do you have a minute?” he asked.
Ben excused himself. “What’s up?”
“You didn’t have to end your conversation. I could
have waited a few minutes.”
“That’s okay, we were just shooting the breeze. What’s
on your mind? Or should I say, who’s on your mind?”
Marcus smiled. “It’s a little of both actually. I’m going
to invite Cathy to tomorrow’s afternoon game and I’d like
you to set her up in the Hall of Fame Suite for me.”
“You don’t want much, do you?” Ben said facetiously.
“Do you think you could arrange it for tomorrow
afternoon?”
“Consider it done.”
Marcus smiled and patted Ben on the back. “Thanks,
man. I knew I could count on you.”
Madison finished the last bit of wine. “Great dinner,
Cathy.”
“Thanks.”
“Now I guess Madison can load the dishwasher,” Anna
suggested.
Madison looked dumbfounded. “I’m a guest.”
“Guest my behind. Load the dishwasher.” Anna
laughed.
“I’ll do it after I finish my wine.”
“Fine.” Anna turned to Cathy. “How was your day?”
“Interesting.”
“What’s going on in the world of publishing?”
Madison asked.
“We got an offer for the auto book today.”
“Good, I know you’re relieved. Those folks left you
messages practically every day,” Anna said.
“Oh, that’s the Jackson thing you were working on,
right?” Madison asked.
“Right. I’m not sure about the details yet but at least
we have something concrete on the table.” Cathy swirled
the wine in her glass. “How about you, Anna?”
“Now that we’ve been auditing school districts, things
are really getting interesting. I didn’t find anything monumental today, but it’s still early.” She smiled.
“How’s life in the world of matrimonial law?” Cathy
asked.
“Not bad. Today we did half a dozen depositions and
filed court papers in a few different counties. Other than
that, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Speaking of out of the ordinary, how was lunch with
Jim?” Anna asked. “I’m sure he’s as neurotic as ever.”
“Jim is Jim. Anyway, I didn’t have lunch with Jim. He
couldn’t make it.”
“So I hope you went anyway,” Madison added.
“Did I mention he called to cancel when I was at the
restaurant?”
“That wasn’t nice,” Madison said.
“No, but that’s Jim. He means well but sometimes he’s
easily distracted. I didn’t sweat it.”
“Still, it’s not fair. Your time is valuable,” Anna said like
a true accountant.
Before she could stop it, Cathy had a Kool-Aid grin on
her face.
Anna looked puzzled. “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. It’s silly.”
Madison looked serious. “Cathy, you don’t do silly.”
She hesitated for a minute. “Well, if you must know, I
saw Marcus Fox at lunch.”
Anna looked skeptical. “You just
saw
him at lunch?
There is no way that grin has anything to do with just
seeing Marcus Fox in a restaurant. There’s got to be more
to it.”
“Okay, so I met him.”
Madison’s eyes widened. “You met him? I don’t follow
baseball but I know he’s a legend when it comes to
women.” He was impressed
Anna scoffed. “Down, boy!”
“You know a guy mistook me for him in court once,”
he boasted.
“How many times have I told you the guy was trying
to pick you up, Madison?”
“The guy really thought I was him, Anna,” he said
defiantly.
“Marcus Fox is about 6’4, tight and muscular. His
complexion is like coffee with extra cream, extra heavy
cream,” Cathy observed.
“So? What’s your point, Cathy?”
“I’m 5’8 and I’m a good six inches shorter than him,
which makes you eight inches shorter than
the
Marcus
Fox.”
Anna laughed. “I rest my case, counselor.”
“You two are some mean heifers,” he huffed.
“Hey, Cuz, if having a guy try to pick you up is one of
your hall of fame moments, more power to you,” Anna
snapped and pointed to Madison.
“Oh, shut up. This isn’t about me anyway. It’s about
her meeting Mr. Fox.”
“That’s right. We got off track. So how did you meet
him?” Anna asked.
“He bought me lunch.”
“He bought you lunch?” Madison echoed.
“Yes. Only I didn’t know about it until the waiter told
me.”
Anna’s mind was at work. “So he just bought you
lunch out of the blue like that?”
“I know it sounds strange but it’s true.”
Madison thought for a minute, then tapped his
temple. “Now I remember. You wore your Yankee blue
dress today.”
“So?”
“So, it’s a v-neck dress that shows off your girls there.”
He pointed in her breasts’ direction. “I’ll be damned,
Marcus Fox is a breast man.”
“I think you’re right for once, Madison,” Anna added.
Cathy moved right along. “Be that as it may, he bought
my lunch. We talked for a few minutes and he asked for
my business card and home number. End of story.”
She conveniently left out the part about Marcus’s call
to her at the office earlier. Cathy just sipped her wine as
the two of them looked at her in silence.
“Are you two all right?”
“I can’t believe how nonchalant you’re acting. You met
the Marcus Fox and he asked you for your number. This is
huge,” Anna said excitedly
“Why is it huge, Anna? He’s not going to call. He was
just being polite.”
Anna looked disgusted with her. “Madison, since
you’re a player, I think you should school this one.”
“Listen, Cathy. He asked you for your home number.
When a guy is interested in a booty call thing, he just takes
your cell number. If he wants to know something like your
business number and home phone, then he’s interested in
you.”
“Is that why you only get cell numbers now?” Cathy’s
inquiring mind wanted to know.
“Hey, I’m a divorce attorney. I learned my lesson after
my own divorce. You remember what Theresa was like.”
“That woman put the W in witch,” Anna quipped.
“That woman totally singed my mind and soured me
on relationships. Screwing without strings is much less
complicated.”
“Is that why you date in quantity as opposed to
quality?” Anna asked.
“As long as you haven’t plowed through the Eastern
Seaboard.” Cathy qualified his mission statement.
“I’ve had enough high maintenance relationships to
last me two lifetimes. I have no intention of screwing and
trying to please any more Martha Stewarts.”
“Martha Stewarts?” they chorused, puzzled at the
choice of words.
“You know, the type of woman who gives directions on
the things you can and cannot do in bed. Screwing goes
something like this: Would you prefer I call it a penis or
use the ‘d’ word? I’m not using the ‘c’ word. You’re an
educated native Easterner so we’ll use the correct terminology, which is penis. Let’s begin. First you enter me.
Good. Now move two centimeters to the left and you’ll
find my clitoris, but remember, only go two centimeters
and not two and a half. Wonderful! Now with three
successive circular motions followed quickly by three
counter-clockwise circular motions, work your hips and
this will coax a delighted moan from me. Feel free to make
a similar, not loud, moan. Next, position your hips slightly
parallel to mine and continue with thrusting while maintaining the clitoral angle we established when we
commenced screwing. This will result in heightening my
enjoyment while giving you the pleasure and privilege of
pleasing me. It’s a good thing.”
Anna and Cathy had tears streaming down their faces
they laughed so hard.
“You are no good.” Cathy howled with laughter.
“It’s the truth,” he said.
“We can’t handle the truth,” Anna chuckled.
“Anyway, Cathy, my point is, Marcus Fox is interested.
I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he called you.”
“Then you’d be by yourself because I would be
floored.”
“Did you get his number?” Anna asked.
“And why would I do that?”
“To call him, of course.”
Cathy was exasperated at having to explain over and
over. “Listen, Anna, I really enjoyed talking to him. He’s
charming, well mannered and intelligent. He’s even more
of a treat to see in person but I’m a realist. Today was as
close as I will ever get to him in life and that’s okay with
me.”
“I will never understand why you always sell yourself
short.” Anna was dismayed.
“We have the same mother, you know why.”
“You have to put that out of your head. You can’t let
your mother’s obsession with religion, weight and size rule
your whole life,” Madison added.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t and most of the time I don’t.
But come now, you’ve read the tabloids and seen the entertainment reports, Marcus Fox dates models and actresses
with legs that start at their shoulders. My legs start at my
knees. I am
so not his type.”
Anna was clearly aggravated with Cathy. “That is total
bull. Then how do you explain his interest in you when he
only dates supermodel types?”
“I have no idea. Maybe he needs new contact lenses.”
“That man could be the one and you’re too afraid to
find out.”
“You know for someone who takes risks on new
writers, you sure play it safe when it comes to your own
happiness,” Madison added.
“I’d rather have no expectations this way I won’t be
disappointed.” Cathy maintained her position. “It’s the
way I want to live for now, Madison. Maybe it will change
down the road, but for now it’s working for me. And
speaking of the Yankees, it’s almost game time.”
“We’ll leave you alone for now but you can bet we are
going to revisit this topic,” Anna said.
“I know you will. By the way, Madison, don’t forget to
load the dishwasher.”
Cathy headed upstairs as quickly as her legs would take
her. She rushed into her room and flipped YES on. It was
7:10
P
.
M
. and she’d missed the top of the first. However,
her immediate concern was the score. Thankfully, the top
of the first was a one, two, three inning. It was time for her
man of the hour to step up to bat. Catherine watched the
count intently when Marcus hit a triple.
“All right man! That’s how you do it!” She clapped.
Cathy knew her sister and cousin meant well but the
way she figured it, speaking to Marcus bought a little more
time for her self-imposed moratorium on dating. They just
wanted her to be happy. She settled in to watch the rest of
the game in peace. Today had been a fluke. As Chris Rock
said, “Here today, gone today.” For Cathy it was a matter
of being realistic. Not everyone got their happy ending.
The YES post-game report ended and Cathy was ready
to turn in for the night. It was a good night for her. The
Yankees had beat the Oakland A’s 11-4 to wrap up the
series. Life was good.