How To Win

Tyler became very serious and settled in to educate the eighty-one-year-old cousin, in women. Tyler was earnest and kind.

Cousin Hebert protested, “I’m too old for that stuff, boy! I can’t even get up on a horse no more.”

Earnestly, Tyler coaxed, “You can share the sunset with her. You can see to it that she’s comfortable. You can buy her something little, and you can give her a rose—”

But after a while, Hebert just asked, “How long since your wife left you?”

Sadly, Tyler said, “Too long.”

And Cousin Hebert said, “How come she left?”

“Damned if I know.”

“I guess you wasn’t doing something you ought to’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

And Cousin Hebert suggested, “Ask her.”

With great sadness, Tyler told the old man, “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”

But Cousin Hebert said, “Maybe you ought to try harder?”

“I suppose.”

It’s strange how events turn around and can be viewed from another angle. While Tyler didn’t budge Cousin Hebert one quarter inch, Tyler was budged into finding out why Kayla hadn’t come back to him. She had not only avoided him, she hadn’t even spoken to him.

Why had she so carefully made herself unavailable to him? That was the part that hurt Tyler so terribly. She no longer wanted to see him. That made his feeling of self-worth fade.

He wasn’t a...hero anymore. He was just a man.

About the only thing that kept Tyler Fuller going was the baseball team. It had been organized by the legal firms there in San Antonio. From among the various firms, they had rival teams. There were a whole lot of snide comments about lawyers playing baseball.

Even the lawyers said those kind of things to one another.

And one of the first problems was when the women lawyers and secretaries and receptionists had insisted on playing baseball with the men. It hadn’t worked. The men used different bats and the baseballs were hard. So the female players gradually moved to playing separate games.

And last season the women in the Reardon firm won the area’s legal cup. And the male segment of the firm scored second...to last.

However, being enlightened, the men set up an elegantly structured table in the lobby of their building and put the women’s cup on the table with a spotlight. The table was exactly the right size to show off the cup. It wasn’t too small or skimpy and it wasn’t humongous to overwhelm the cup. It was a perfect exhibit. That soothed a lot of ruffled feathers.

It had been Barbara Nelson’s idea. It was she who had suggested it to the men. She’d expected a hoopla of objection, but the men fooled her. It had been a good move. When Tyler had commented positively on the cup, his boss, Barbara Nelson, had just smiled at him.

Even though he’d been married, then, that smile had scared Tyler more than anything else. Hers was a predator’s smile.

On the team, Tyler played second base. He did well enough as a batter but he had never hit a home run. He was alert and quick. He did his share and he was accurate in his throws. Probably the best thing was that he looked. He knew where players were and he threw precisely. He was a plus. He kept his eye on the ball.

Probably the best advice he got on playing ball was from his great-uncle Clyde, who said, “Whenever a baseball referee mentions your number, shake your head in a serious, surprised way. Everybody will think the referee was as blind as they’d always suspected.”

That small move could also be applied to a lawyer’s devaluation of another lawyer’s client in court. Especially if there was a jury.

Last year, Kayla had been one of the wives who’d come out to the games. She’d been interested and ornery. She’d laughed when the crowd got too upset over anything. She’d been weird even then.

Tyler groaned as he contemplated how he missed her. As the games were played, he’d foolishly look in the stands for her. And he’d realize she was gone. He had no one to cheer him on and give him the knowledge that somebody cared about him.

His parents were there. His sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews. His cousins... Yeah. And they cheered. But Kayla wasn’t there.

Even Barbara Nelson was there. She would be. She made Tyler’s skin prickle in alarm.

It was after a while and months of trying before Tyler finally got hold of his ex on the phone. He was so surprised when she answered that for a breath he couldn’t think of anything to say.

She’d repeated, “Hello?”

And he’d said, “Don’t hang up.”

Her impatient sigh had been obvious. But she hadn’t hung up.

He’d said, “I need to know that you’re all right.”

“Yes.”

“And I need to know if you need anything at all. Do you have enough money?”

“Yes.”

He’d scrambled for something to say. “Is your car working all right?”

“Yes.”

“I miss you like bloody hell.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Now, Kayla, that wasn’t nice at all. You could’ve said you miss me a little.”

“I bought all those other dogs.”

“Other? You didn’t have a—You mean me.”

“I’ve never seen anyone who went such places as you chose.”

“I was curious. It wasn’t for long.”

“I doubt it I must go. Have I replied to all your questions?”

“You aren’t out watching the games. I miss you in the bleachers.”

In surprise, she did gasp but then she’d said flippantly, “I’m busy.”