then?”
“It’s the best day of your life so far,” I said. “ That’s what it is. I know plenty of young men who would give everything they have for this one little moment in their lives.”
Her eyes looked misty in the low light of the bar; like lake water on a windless morning. I don’t think she was sad, or tearing up, but she seemed then just as moved as I’d hoped she would be. She gazedinto my eyes, and I could see her thinking, wondering … Perhaps she didn’t yet fully trust me.
I took out a check from the team, wrote it out for $70,000, and slid it over to her. “Starting today, you will be paid $9,903 a week. You get to keep that, too. As long as you’re on the roster.”
“Nobody has to approve this first?”
“I have the authority to make this decision, Jess, and I’ve just made it.” I sipped my bourbon, raised my glass slightly toward her. “Congratulations.”
And then she signed the thing—the original agreement and all four copies—and gave it back to me. I handed her back one and put the rest in my pocket. “Put that in your purse. This is a famous day. A remarkable day,” I said. “I feel good.”
“Me too.” She stuffed the check and the contract into her purse, laid it up on the bar, then took a big drink of her beer. “When do I report?”
“You can’t tell anybody yet.”
“I can’t?”
“The time will come, don’t worry, but for now this has to be our secret a little while longer.”
“How long do I have to wait for the money?”
“You don’t. That check right there is good. Put it in the bank. Your salary won’t begin for at least two pay periods, but they’ll make it up with the first check.”
The music stopped just then, and people quieted down a bit, before it picked up again. I ordered another glass of bourbon.
She watched me. There was something less innocent about her expression. “You’re a pro now,” I said. It was just beginning to sink in, what I had done, and my own old heart was beating like a revved-up engine.
“I was already a pro.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m nervous,” she said.
She didn’t look nervous and I told her that. I said she looked as calm as she ever looked in a game.
“I’ll be calm when I play,” she said.
“Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
After a while, she said, “Are folks going to hate me?”
“Why would anybody hate you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe some of the men on the team? You know, people don’t like things to change and … this is definitely gonna change a few things.”
“You’ll get paid a lot of money. Right?”
She nodded.
“Far as I know, the worst thing that can happen’s we won’t get permission to put you on the field in a game. Even then, you’ll turn a few heads, that’s for damn sure. And some folks will learn a few things about themselves, maybe.”
“That’s it?” She put her hands around her half-empty glass of beer, studied it for a minute, then looked at me—looked right through me as a matter of fact.
“I don’t want to mislead you, Jesse,” I said. “You probably will never really get a chance to play. But if that turns out to be the case, it certainly won’t be for any lack of talent, that’s for sure.” As soon as I finished talking, I wished I hadn’t gotten so sensible and matter-of-fact on her. She cast her eyes down a bit, then took another gulp of her beer.
“I don’t want to be some kind of sideshow,” she said. “Not for any amount of money.”
“You won’t be.”
“I’m going to earn this money, or I give it back.”
“Don’t even say such a thing, Jesse, you hear? You don’t give back one red cent of it.”
“Then they’ll have to let me play,” she said. “That’s all.” And then she turned back to me and the steely look in her eyes sent a chill down through me. “Somebody’s going to have to tell me why I can’t—that I’m not good enough.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and
“It’s the best day of your life so far,” I said. “ That’s what it is. I know plenty of young men who would give everything they have for this one little moment in their lives.”
Her eyes looked misty in the low light of the bar; like lake water on a windless morning. I don’t think she was sad, or tearing up, but she seemed then just as moved as I’d hoped she would be. She gazedinto my eyes, and I could see her thinking, wondering … Perhaps she didn’t yet fully trust me.
I took out a check from the team, wrote it out for $70,000, and slid it over to her. “Starting today, you will be paid $9,903 a week. You get to keep that, too. As long as you’re on the roster.”
“Nobody has to approve this first?”
“I have the authority to make this decision, Jess, and I’ve just made it.” I sipped my bourbon, raised my glass slightly toward her. “Congratulations.”
And then she signed the thing—the original agreement and all four copies—and gave it back to me. I handed her back one and put the rest in my pocket. “Put that in your purse. This is a famous day. A remarkable day,” I said. “I feel good.”
“Me too.” She stuffed the check and the contract into her purse, laid it up on the bar, then took a big drink of her beer. “When do I report?”
“You can’t tell anybody yet.”
“I can’t?”
“The time will come, don’t worry, but for now this has to be our secret a little while longer.”
“How long do I have to wait for the money?”
“You don’t. That check right there is good. Put it in the bank. Your salary won’t begin for at least two pay periods, but they’ll make it up with the first check.”
The music stopped just then, and people quieted down a bit, before it picked up again. I ordered another glass of bourbon.
She watched me. There was something less innocent about her expression. “You’re a pro now,” I said. It was just beginning to sink in, what I had done, and my own old heart was beating like a revved-up engine.
“I was already a pro.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m nervous,” she said.
She didn’t look nervous and I told her that. I said she looked as calm as she ever looked in a game.
“I’ll be calm when I play,” she said.
“Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
After a while, she said, “Are folks going to hate me?”
“Why would anybody hate you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe some of the men on the team? You know, people don’t like things to change and … this is definitely gonna change a few things.”
“You’ll get paid a lot of money. Right?”
She nodded.
“Far as I know, the worst thing that can happen’s we won’t get permission to put you on the field in a game. Even then, you’ll turn a few heads, that’s for damn sure. And some folks will learn a few things about themselves, maybe.”
“That’s it?” She put her hands around her half-empty glass of beer, studied it for a minute, then looked at me—looked right through me as a matter of fact.
“I don’t want to mislead you, Jesse,” I said. “You probably will never really get a chance to play. But if that turns out to be the case, it certainly won’t be for any lack of talent, that’s for sure.” As soon as I finished talking, I wished I hadn’t gotten so sensible and matter-of-fact on her. She cast her eyes down a bit, then took another gulp of her beer.
“I don’t want to be some kind of sideshow,” she said. “Not for any amount of money.”
“You won’t be.”
“I’m going to earn this money, or I give it back.”
“Don’t even say such a thing, Jesse, you hear? You don’t give back one red cent of it.”
“Then they’ll have to let me play,” she said. “That’s all.” And then she turned back to me and the steely look in her eyes sent a chill down through me. “Somebody’s going to have to tell me why I can’t—that I’m not good enough.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and
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