The New Game Ch. 01

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Some things never change, others change constantly.
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Part 1 of the 18 part series

Updated 10/19/2022
Created 03/17/2008
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Chapter 01 – Open Door Policy

I was sitting in the small but orderly office at the back of the hardware store, just plowing away through the paperwork that was left for me. It was almost 7pm, which meant closing time. I heard the office door open and I looked up to see my Uncle Phil standing in the doorway.

"I cashed out the register," Uncle Phil said to me as he flipped me a paper bag full of cash. "I am going to head home to your Aunt Cindy."

"Uncle Phil, we both know you are headed to Murphy's for a beer or two with Rick before you go home," I corrected him.

Rick Markson was my Uncle Phil's best friend since they were kids. They were local boys who loved where they were from and considered it a big part of who they were as men. Rick was a good man and he had been a great help to our entire family during Uncle Phil's recent rehabilitation. Rick and my Uncle Phil had a beer or two at Murphy's bar every night for the past 25 years or so. Every night, that is, with the exception of the 2 months Uncle Phil had spent in rehab learning to walk again. It had been a tough time for us as we went through it and Rick was a good friend to us all.

"Some things don't change," he admitted with a hearty laugh. "Speaking of which, Donna-Lee is here to see you."

"Some things don't change," I repeated with a laugh.

"I respect your right to make your own decisions," Uncle Phil professed to me. "You have grown into a smart, successful man with a good heart and good values, so I hate to offer advice that isn't asked for. But maybe you ought to think about giving that another chance."

I looked at him, curiously. Uncle Phil was certainly not one to offer unsolicited advice, so this took me by surprise. He had never wanted to discuss any part of my romantic life, so this was an interesting twist. I wondered if Rick had said anything to him about Donna-Lee and myself. I knew Uncle Phil meant well, but this was a topic I was not at all prepared to discuss with him tonight.

"Uncle Phil, the man I am is due in large part to the many valuable things you taught me," I reminded him politely. "Kiss Aunt Cindy for me when you get home."

Uncle Phil turned and headed out of the office, moving slowly on his cane. He accepted my position of not wanting to dive into this topic tonight. At this point, his limp was almost not noticeable if you didn't already know it was there. He continued going to physical therapy 3 days a week because he was a proud man who believed in hard work. He had worked extremely hard in his rehab from the awful car accident that shattered his right leg.

I moved out from behind the small metal desk and followed Uncle Phil out to the front of the store. As he had informed me, Donna-Lee Markson was waiting for me at counter. She was standing there, leaning on the counter, waiting for my arrival. Donna-Lee was Rick's daughter and I had known her for most of my life. She had always had a sort of crush on me. We had tried dating back in high school and it was a great ride. It was my first "real" relationship and I will always treasure the time I shared with her. I, however, ended that relationship in order to date the head cheerleader. That turned out to be the first really poor decision of my adult life.

That cheerleader did a number on me. I was crazy about her and I went as far as to buy a ring. I proposed during Christmas break of our senior year. She accepted and I felt like I was on top of the world. That world came crashing down three months later. It was brought to my attention, by accident, that she had slept with my best friend and two of my teammates while we were together. As an 18 year-old kid, that was a crushing blow. Scandal traveled fast in a small town. From that point on, I was either the receipt of mockery or pity from just about everyone I encountered. It took me some time to regroup and that's when I made my decision to go away to college. California seemed like a large enough place for me to become invisible.

Donna-Lee, on the other hand, went on to date and then marry Brian Delany. Brian was a football player who got a full-ride to Penn State and had a cup of coffee with the Eagles. He found a career in the sports marketing field and provided her a good life while they were together. Donna-Lee left him after 3 years of marriage when she found out that Brian was having an affair with a co-worker. The small town rumor mill went to work quickly and Brian could not take the whispers and innuendo. He moved out of town and Donna-Lee returned to her maiden name. It was now treated like they were never together at all.

Everyday since I had returned home, almost 6 months ago, Donna-Lee had stopped by the store to see me. She would finish her workday at the bank and then swing by to remind me that she would love to give "us" a second chance. Looking at her now, I knew that tonight's conversation would be no different. She looked lovely and she was smiling brightly at me. She was attractive, yet plain. She wasn't quite as much of a woman as the ladies I had been with in California, her appearance screamed "small town." Uncle Phil passed her and waved on his way to the door. I watched him climb up into his new truck and pull out of the lot. I grabbed several items that were left on the counter and began putting them back where they went as Donna-Lee began her daily sermon.

"Hey you," she greeted me.

"Hey Donna-Lee," I returned politely. "How are you today?"

"I'm lonely," she admitted. "A week from today is Valentine's day. I am hoping you will see the light by then and be my Valentine."

"Donna-Lee, today is Wednesday," I admitted simply. "I expect next Wednesday will also be just another Wednesday for me."

"Why do you have to be so difficult," she asked rhetorically. "You know our history."

I did know our history. I also knew her pattern. I wondered what memory she would recap tonight. Each conversation was a different memory of our 1½ years as a teenage couple. I thought nothing of it as I continued putting items back on the shelves and racks. Often they were good memories she recalled. I enjoyed our time together when we dated. It was so easy to be with her since our families were so close. That made it feel all the more right. I didn't mind remembering those times, except on her bad days. When she was hurting and she wanted to let me know that she was in pain, she would bring up the things I did not want to remember. Those days were hard to swallow since I admittedly had made some mistakes as a youth. I felt bad about the times when I had hurt her and recapping those times made me feel worse. It did not feel, from her tone of voice, that today was going to be one of those bad days.

"Do you remember when we went to my parent's 25th anniversary party," she asked. "I looked great, you looked great. We danced and drank and oh what an after party."

I did remember that party. Actually, I remembered, with vivid detail, the majority of the moments Donna-Lee recapped. She was a good-hearted woman, but I was a broken man inside. She deserved better and I was in no shape to start dating yet, especially since I had no idea where my life was going. The only thing I knew for sure was that my heart belonged to two different women, both of who were 3,000 miles away and neither of whom I had seen in the six months since I had returned home. I did not want to hurt Donna-Lee again, so I continued to respectfully discourage her advances.

"I remember your little brother Danny drinking until he puked at that party," I revealed. "I carried his drunken ass to the car and had to drop him off at home so he could sober up before your mom and dad got home the next day."

"Yeah, he was a mess that night," she agreed. "But we put him to bed and then we went to my room. You and I always had such amazing physical chemistry."

I ignored that last remark and collected the paperwork off the counter. I put the paperwork on the desk in the office as Donna-Lee followed me like a lost puppy. I grabbed my jacket and made my way to the door. I ushered Donna-Lee out of the store as I locked the door behind us. I started my mom's car, which had essentially become mine since I arrived home, and turned back to Donna-Lee.

"Can we go get a drink," she offered.

"Not tonight," I declined. "Maybe tomorrow."

"You have said that every night for almost 6 months," she recapped for me. "Are you ever gonna say yes?"

"Are you ever gonna give up," I countered with a laugh.

She smiled and got in her car. She rolled the window down as she backed out of the parking space she was in. She grinned at me as it started to snow lightly around me.

"Give your dad my best," I said to her as she pulled away slowly, never taking her eyes off of me.

I headed home and as I came through the door, dinner was waiting. Dinner was waiting for me every night since my return. My mother loved to feed me. She lived for it. I kissed my mom as I hung up my jacket. I sat at the table and ate dinner as mom filled me in on her day. Fred, my mother's second husband, sat silently on the couch watching the news. Life was simple here.

I finished eating and spent some time on the computer before turning in for the night. I laid my head on my pillow and closed my eyes. Just like every night since I had been home my dreams were bathed in memory of the women I left in California. Snow White had her seven dwarfs and likewise, I had these seven beauties that challenged me, cared for me, confused me, and intrigued me. Yes, these seven women were my own personal fairytale and I remembered them fondly.

Morning came early, as it did most days. I was up and out of the house in a hurry, but not before my mother handed me my lunch and a fresh cup of coffee. I arrived at the store at 6:30am, just like most days for the past 6 months. I opened the store, prepared the daily deposit, put the register online and put on a fresh pot of coffee in the office.

At 8am Aunt Cindy arrived, as she did everyday. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and then headed into the office. She disappeared again quickly, taking the daily deposit to the bank. At 9am Uncle Phil arrived for the day. He found his usual seat on a wooden stool next to the register as I headed into the office.

I placed the daily order for items we were out of and managed our payables to ensure no bills were overdue. Uncle Phil was a stickler for paying our bills promptly. Aunt Cindy returned shortly after that and pulled up a chair next to me. I had been giving her computer lessons and she had become very proficient. She took over everything I was doing so I left her to her work. I spent sometime with Uncle Phil up front; talking about things we might be able to do in order to improve the store. We always talked over coffee; Uncle Phil was a big coffee drinker. He was also a man with simple ideas and simple visions. I enjoyed that very much as it was much better than contemplating taking complicated risks and gambles on a pretty basic business.

Rick stopped by around lunchtime and he, Uncle Phil and I played cards while we ate together. He was a good man and their friendship was important to both of them. It was pretty cool to watch. Rick was always respectful enough to not pressure me about Donna-Lee, which I appreciated. Any father would want to see their daughter happy, so I wouldn't have blamed him if he had, but he was a better man than that. After lunch I worked on a few small items with Aunt Cindy before she left for the day. She was a very organized and tidy woman, who had always been good to me. She was very proud of how good she had become with the computer system I had installed.

At 6:30pm Uncle Phil poked his head into the office to let me know he was leaving for the night. He was off to have a beer or two with Rick, just like every night before. He still walked with that cane, but he appeared to be better everyday. Of course, as he grabbed his jacket he mentioned that Donna-Lee was waiting for me. I organized the desk and headed out front to close out the register. Donna-Lee was smiling at me as usual. Things around here were wonderfully, comfortably predictable.

"Hey you," she greeted me as usual.

"Hey Donna-Lee," I returned. "How are you today?"

"You know how I am," she stated. "And I have decided that I am not giving up. I thought you should know."

"I figured as much, but thank you for clarifying it," I laughed. "What's on your mind tonight?"

I continued counting the money in the register as she decided on which memory to replay this evening.

"Do you remember the night you got home from baseball camp," she asked rhetorically. "It was the summer before our junior year. You went to Cleveland for 4 weeks to play baseball 24/7. You were possessed with that game. Do you remember that night you got home?"

"Yes, Donna-Lee, I remember that night," I confirmed confidently. "I remember every single detail as perfectly as you do."

I did remember that night. It was one of my favorite memories in my life. That night, more than any other, felt like a dream come true. I heard the chime ring from the front door, indicating that someone had come into the store. I wasn't concerned. Even though I continued to cash out the register I could do the math in my head on almost any sale. I hated to turn people away who needed things, even if technically we were closed. Uncle Phil would never turn anyone away and he would not have been happy if I were to do it now. Besides, Donna-Lee was only getting started so I figured we were going to be a while.

"I picked you up and we drove out to Meyers Field where you told me all about the camp," she remembered fondly, bringing me right back to that moment in time. "You were so wrapped in your baseball talk. Then we made love for hours on the hood of my car. Right there in that darkness. You were such a stallion."

"I think you are remembering it more like you wanted it to be rather than how it actually was," I advised her. "I was an awkward 16 year old kid and you were already one hell of a woman."

"But I loved you," she disclosed. "So what was awkwardness to you was skill to me. When we were done I had the idea to drive to Pittsburg. We snuck into Three Rivers Stadium. Remember that?"

"I certainly do," I acknowledged. "You were so inspired by coming up with that idea, you drove like a maniac. I had never seen such fire in your eyes."

"I wanted to give you the best gift anyone had ever given you," she insisted, getting a little choked up. "And I was hell bent on doing it. The passion you had in your voice when you talked about baseball that night inspired me. I wanted you to talk about me with that same passion. I wanted you to love me like you loved that game. We snuck in through that auxiliary gate near the concessions entrance. It was like 4am when we finally got inside."

"We looked all around the halls and found our way past the locked clubhouse and into the dugout," I continued the now vivid memory. "I found a bat and a bucket of balls in a small closet near the dugout steps and you insisted on pitching me batting practice as the sun came up. There was no telling you 'no' that night."

I could not believe that she had not brought up this night until now. This was a night I still thought of fondly from time to time when I needed a lift.

"The loud echo of each crack of the bat off the empty seats was like music," she picked up where I left off. "I don't recall you missing a single pitch. You drew that bat back time after time and sprayed that bucket all over the field. You were so focused. I had never seen you smile like that. You were breathtaking."

"And you were throwing gas," I laughed. "You had to hit in the high 70's on the gun that morning. I remember it was a cool morning for August. The sun was low in the sky behind you as you fired pitch after pitch at me. I just kept watching the ball come out of your hand and I tried to hit each one where it was pitched. I got in such a rhythm that I forgot where we were for a while. It was as close as I have ever felt to heaven."

"And then it happened," she commented.

"And then it happened," I repeated, smiling widely at her.

"The sound when you hit that ball was very different than all the others before it," she remarked. "It sounded like a gunshot without the violence or like thunder on a clear night. I had never heard anything like it. It was almost poetic."

"I didn't feel it hit the bat," I told her. "No sting, no vibration, nothing. But it jumped off the barrel. We both watched it go."

"Right down the left field line," she recalled. "Until, bang."

"More like a gong sound than a bang," I corrected her. "The sound it made when it hit the pole still gives me chills."

"You put the bat down right on home plate and walked out to me on the mound," she said. "I never felt as warm inside as when you grabbed my hand and led me off that field. It was the perfect moment."

It was hard to argue that is was the single most perfect moment ever, but before I could express that to Donna-Lee, someone else did.

"That sounds magical," a voice interrupted us.

I looked to my right and saw an absolutely stunning blonde woman standing there. My eyes focused on her face and my mouth fell open. I did a double take to make sure that my eyes were not playing tricks on me. I snapped my head two or three times to be certain that she was really here, right in front of me. Once I was sure that it was her, I could not take my eyes off of her. I found it hard to think, let alone speak.

"Donna-Lee, perhaps you should head on home now," I said to her calmly and without looking at her.

Brooke never took her eyes off of me as I spoke. I don't know what expression Donna-Lee made or what she was thinking, but she was polite enough to leave the store without another word. I heard the chime on the front door ring again as Donna-Lee exited the store. I was enjoying reliving that night with her, all those years ago, but seeing Brooke took a backseat to nothing at that moment.

We stared at each other for a long time. I did not know what to say. I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and was lost. Every emotion I had felt for her and for all of those women came rushing back and began to overwhelm me. I suddenly felt guilty and then ashamed. I watched carefully as Brooke took three steps forward and placed her hands on the counter in front of me.

"What are you doing here," I finally managed to ask her.

"I am doing what I think is right," she responded as her hands began to shake.

I stared at her curiously, not sure what she meant, yet. I reached for her hands with my own, but she withdrew quickly.

"Do you remember when I told you that I was with you and not the game," she asked me directly. "I said I trusted you and would follow your lead. Do you remember me saying that?"

I thought back to the time when we lived together and all the things that went on in the game during that time frame. I knew the moment she was referring to and I certainly remembered her saying all of those things as clearly as if it were only moments ago.

"Yes, I remember," I confirmed.

"Those statements are why I am here," she explained. "The women back home miss you. You don't call or write much at all anymore. There is growing tension and frustration. Our lack of information on your situation has led to a big crossroads."

I stared at her plagued with guilt and fear.

"There is a meeting coming up to decide what to do about the game and you," she informed me. "If you are not in California for that meeting, the game is over. These ladies have agreed to terminate the game if you are not home and at that meeting next Wednesday."

"They sent you across the country to tell me about this meeting," I inquired, assuming that was the case.

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