Always Waiting: The League, Book 3 Read online

  “Got it, Mr. Paulsen. I still have those reports from yesterday to keep me busy in the meantime.” I grabbed the doorknob to close my door. Anita stuck her head in one more time and said, “I’m happy for you. You’re so very handsome when you smile.”

  I laughed and closed the door. Sitting in my chair, I swiveled around to look out over Lake Michigan. I pulled my hands up behind my head and exhaled deeply. I could remember just a couple of months ago trudging into work facing what felt like a mountain of papers and meetings that was only growing larger by the day. Now, somehow, Anita and I made real progress in shrinking it all to a manageable level.

  I rarely suggested any alterations to usual plans and process when I met with my superiors. I was the young executive who accepted all tasks with a confident smile and a nod. I followed company precedent, and I assured everybody that I could get the job done. Suddenly, I was starting to feel itchy about wanting a more active role in setting strategies and goals.

  Turning back around in my chair, I fired up my computer and looked at my schedule for the week. At first glance, at least one third of my time was occupied by meetings of one sort or another. I shook my head. It was a wonder that I ever got anything accomplished.

  I took a closer look at the meetings and those who would be in attendance. It occurred to me that there was a lot of duplication going on. I wondered whether some of the meetings could be collapsed together for the sake of efficiency. We might need to move them to a larger conference room to accommodate more people, but the time saved would be worth it.

  The same groups also met very frequently. I thought about sitting in the room listening to the same reports week after week with barely perceptible changes in the data reported. I wondered if we could meet half as often and get twice as much done.

  I stood up from my desk and opened the door. Anita looked up from her computer immediately. I crooked a finger at her and gestured for her to join me in the office. She grabbed her tablet computer and was instantly on her feet.

  “Anita, close the door. I have something I want to talk over with you.”

  Her face took on a worried countenance for a moment. She asked, “Did I do something wrong, Mr. Paulsen?”

  I smiled and said, “Oh, no, definitely not, but I have an idea I want to present to the execs. An idea for some changes in the meetings. I wanted to run it by you to see if it sounds solid.”

  She reached up and raked her fingers through the raven black hair tossing it over her shoulder. “You have an idea to present to them, Mr. Paulsen? You want them to change? I think I’m a little confused.”

  I laughed out loud and asked, “Am I really that bad? I never have any new ideas?”

  She blushed and immediately said, “But you do a great job, Mr. Paulsen, and you’re easy to work with.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Maybe it’s time for me to change a little bit.” I explained some of my ideas about the meetings. Anita scribbled notes on her tablet with a stylus. I asked, “How does that sound?”

  She shrugged slightly. “It sounds very sensible, Mr. Paulsen. Having extra time to get real work done is a great thing. You’re going to present that today?”

  “Today,” I said.

  “I’ll be nervous, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  * * *

  By the end of the day, I was beaming, and my personal confidence took a huge leap forward. At first everyone was as shocked as Anita that I was boldly putting new ideas forward, even if they were only about how we worked internally.

  When I suggested half as many meetings, Ollie Hunter, my immediate superior, looked around the room. He said, “I guess I can’t come up with a real logical argument against this. I suspect most of us would like fewer meetings, and Paulsen is right, we do spend a lot of time rehashing the same information.” He looked around the room and asked, “What do the rest of you think? For once, I’ll avoid making a unilateral decision.”

  I watched as my colleagues stared at each other, and then one of them clapped. He was joined by others, and soon I was receiving a roomful of applause for my idea. Ollie said, “I guess I will see you all in two weeks then instead of next week. I will still call an emergency meeting if we need one, but I’m not expecting anything.”

  As we filed out of the conference room, I received multiple pats on the back and, “Good job, Paulsen,” comments.

  I eagerly explained the changes to Anita. She said, “Let me make the changes on the calendar right now, Mr. Paulsen.” Then she said, “You only have five minutes to make it to the next meeting.”

  I said, “Wish me luck on this one, too.”

  The response to my suggestion about collapsing two meetings into one were met with the same enthusiasm as I received from Ollie Hunter earlier in the day. This time, I heard the comment, “Why didn’t I think of that?” It was followed by, “We need more practical minds around like yours, Paulsen. Good job.”

  I spent the last twenty minutes of my day relaxing behind my desk. Anita asked if she could bring me a victory cup of coffee, and I said, “Of course.”

  She handed me the mug across the desk and then said, “If this is what happens when you really fall in love, Mr. Paulsen, I sort of wish it happened even earlier.”

  I pulled my hands up behind my head and said, “No need to rush anything. Life unfolds the way it should. We just have to be open to the opportunities.”

  “Or maybe make a few opportunities of our own?” asked Anita.

  I laughed and said, “Now you’re sounding like Lowell. He likes to take risks.”

  She said, “As long as they aren’t too risky, that sounds exciting.”

  “Is jumping out of a plane risky?”

  Anita said, “Not if your parachute works correctly.”

  I drove home that evening even happier than I was first thing in the morning. I was missing Lowell, but I only had one more day to wait. He would be back in my arms soon. Meanwhile, when I took the little risks at work, I felt like he was right at my shoulder urging me on.

  When I got out of the car, there was a note from my contractor. He said that he could start on the patio roof or any other project that I suggested. I beamed. Life really was looking up.

  I folded the note up and stuck it in my pocket while I dropped my bag on the kitchen table. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and headed to the living room to sprawl out on the couch.

  That’s when I noticed it. Looking up, I saw the leak stain on the ceiling was twice the size it was when I last paid attention to it. It rained over night, so apparently the leak started up again.

  I could feel the agitation start to rise in the back of my throat, but then the beer chased it all the way back to my gut. I leaned back on the couch, thought about the note in my pocket, and then I relaxed. I had Lowell, and I had a new outlook on life. No little house problems could derail my good mood.

  16

  Lowell

  I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face as I tumbled out of my car to join the rest of the Soft Serves for our third game of the season. We won the first two, and the chatter was already underway about our chances to win the season championship.

  I scanned the parking lot, and it looked like Sven hadn’t arrived yet. I pulled on my glove and jogged over to the teammates who were warming up in the outfield. My limp was completely gone, and it was replaced by a bounce in my step.

  Antonio was bent over pulling up old-fashioned bright red baseball socks before tugging his uniform pants down most of the way over top of them. I said, “Snazzy socks there, Antonio.”

  He looked up and laughed. Then he high-fived me with the hand not covered by a glove. He said, “I stumbled over them online one day at work when I was supposed to be…working, and I had to have them.”

  I said, “They are so…you, Antonio.”

  He grinned and said, “Thank you.”

  I picked up one of the neon green softballs and asked Antonio if he wanted to toss it back and forth
with me. He said, “I rarely say no to a handsome man.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t tell Lex you heard that from me.”

  “Lips are sealed, Antonio!” I jogged out to center field. Marshall and Billy were already warming up, and I could hear the thwack of the ball hitting the glove as they threw hard.

  I felt inspired, and the first ball I threw to Antonio was a little harder than normal. He squealed and said, “Wow, have you been hitting the gym Lowell? There was real muscle behind that ball.”

  I laughed and said, “I was just imagining throwing a ball in from center field trying to catch that guy stretching his single into a double.”

  Antonio tossed the ball back to me, and I returned it with another hard throw. He pulled off his glove and shook his hand. “Why don’t you, um, save that energy for the game, Lowell?”

  I laughed and served him up a total cream puff the next time I threw the ball back. I turned my head just in time to see Sven jogging out to join us.

  Antonio said, “Here comes lover boy.” He held on to the ball while I gave Sven a big hug and a quick kiss.

  Sven said, “Hey, sorry, guys, I was running a little late. The guy showed up to check out the shingles on the roof and figure out how to repair my leak.”

  Antonio asked, “You’ve still got bad things happening with that house?”

  Sven shook his head. “No, now they are fixing the problems. Lowell is going to rebuild the patio roof with me.”

  Putting a hand on his hip, Antonio said, “Well, if the two of you are Mr. Fix-Its now, Lex and I could use a new garage door installed. Lex backed off of the project when the guy at the hardware store warned that he could lose a hand if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

  I shook my head and said, “I’m sorry Antonio. I’m only Mr. Fix-It for Sven.”

  Antonio grinned and said, “I bet you are. You fix him up well.”

  * * *

  As the game got under way, both teams failed to put any runners on base in the first inning. It looked like it was going to be a long day when Blake popped up a ball to lead off the second.

  I was the third to bat in the inning with nobody on base. I dug in at home plate determined to deliver the first hit of the game. I could hear Sven’s deep voice stand out among the others in the dugout encouraging me to get a hit.

  It was one thing to stare back at a pitcher in baseball who was trying to throw the ball past you at ninety miles an hour. A slow-pitch softball player was more into just trying to throw you off your game. This pitcher gave me a little knowing smirk just before he released the ball. The smirk was distracting.

  I swung at the first pitch, and I knew that I was too early right when the bat left my shoulder. I tried to slow down the swing, but I missed the ball entirely. The catcher taunted me saying, “He’s an easy out.”

  I pounded the bat in the middle of home plate again, and then I waited for the next pitch. This time I connected, but the ball was far wide of first base. It was a nice line drive, but it was foul by a mile.

  One chance remained to get on base. Sven yelled, “Shake it off” from the dugout, and he was joined by a chorus of other voices. I settled in, pulled my bat back, and I waited for the pitch.

  I hit the ball, but just barely. It rolled about twenty-four inches in front of home plate. I ran hard for first base, but the ball was there in the first baseman’s glove before I was even halfway.

  I hung my head. Sven ran out to me and handed me my glove while giving me a clap on the back. He said, “Hey, you’ll get ‘em next time.”

  He was followed by Blake who pulled me aside briefly. He said, “You just need to lean back a little when you crouch, Lowell. Like this.” He demonstrated for me and imagined that he was holding a bat.

  I was dismissive. I said, “I’m sure that works for you, Blake, but unfortunately, I’m not you.”

  He grabbed my shoulder and said, “I’m serious. You’re almost there Lowell. Lean back and when you throw that weight forward, you’ll get twice as much power on the ball. Trust me this once, and give it a try.”

  I broke for center field and called back over my shoulder, “I’ll give it a try, thanks!”

  I had plenty of doubt in my head that changing the way I stood at home plate would help at all, but somebody needed to do something in the game. We put up a parade of batters thrown out at first or hitting popups that were caught on the infield. The first four innings went by with neither team coming anywhere close to scoring a run. Sven hit a long ball into the outfield, but it was easily caught by the other team’s center fielder.

  Just before I left the dugout to take some practice swings on deck for my next time at bat, Sven asked, “Are you feeling good today, Lowell?”

  I answered with my own question. “How could I not feel good spending time with you?”

  He said, “Then you should be able to get a hit.”

  “Even when the rest of the team fails?” I asked.

  “Forget about that, Lowell. Go out there and tear the cover off the ball.” I stood up and he swatted my ass. A big grin spread across my face as I left the dugout.

  I tried a few swings in the warmup circle. Then I remembered what Blake said. I tried leaning backward a little on my rear foot. It felt slightly awkward, but then when I pushed my body forward, I realized that Blake had a point. I wondered if I could hit the ball harder.

  I wasn’t known as a power hitter. I could be fairly reliable and usually got on base at least once every game. I hit one home run in the previous season, but I thought it was a fluke.

  With two outs and nobody on base again, I stepped to the plate. I could hear Sven’s voice telling me this time to, “Tear the cover off the ball!”

  I also managed to pick out Blake encouraging, “Lean back, Lowell! Just lean back a little.”

  The catcher called out to the mound, “You’re on your way to a perfect game, Simpson. This guy’s another easy out.”

  I wanted to glare at the catcher, but I kept my eyes focused in the opposite direction. I dug in at the plate, and then, just before the pitcher released the ball, I leaned back.

  It was a good pitch. It was going to cross the plate at approximately waist height. I waited patiently and then swung pushing my body weight forward and into the ball.

  The bat hit its target, and the hit fell solid to my hands. I started to jog toward first base convinced that the ball would be caught in the outfield. Then I noticed that all of the players were just standing and watching instead of readying themselves for a throw back to the infield.

  As I rounded first base, I saw the ball sail over the center field fence and threw my fists in the air. It was a home run. My team clustered to greet me when I stomped emphatically on home plate.

  The umpire waved them all back toward the dugout bellowing, “We’ve got a game to play! Back in the dugout!”

  I hugged Sven, and Blake whispered in my ear, “Like magic. Good job!”

  The next batter was out, but we took the field with a one-run lead. It was better than nothing, and the way the game was going, we knew that it might be enough for a win.

  That was still the situation two innings later when we headed to our positions for the bottom of the seventh inning. We had two more base runners in the previous innings, but we failed to score any additional runs.

  I wanted my rare home run to be the game-winning hit, but I was nervous. I could feel my legs were a little wobbly as I jogged into the outfield.

  The first two outs were easy. One ball was a slow roller to Blake at third base, and he just had to scoop it up and fire across the field to the first baseman.

  The second batter hit a foul popup behind home plate. Reggie tore off his catcher’s mask and backed up to find the umpire in the way. After delivering a sharp elbow, Reggie caught the ball with an outstretched arm. His masterful play earned applause from both teams. We were one out away from a win.

  The next batter was the cleanup hitter for our opponents. He had t
he power to hit the ball over the fence. I nervously glanced behind me and then backed up three steps.

  On the first pitch, the ball was launched as a high pop up. I could immediately see that it was going to come down about exactly halfway between Antonio playing second base and me in center field. He started to back up waving his long arms in the air.

  Antonio called, “I’m gonna get it! I think!”

  I tried to call him off because I had a better angle for catching the ball. I just needed to run forward instead of back up. I shouted, “No, I’ve got it!”

  I glanced briefly to my right to see both Blake and Marshall put their arms over their head and duck. They were remembering my previous collision with Antonio.

  I continued to run forward and then planted myself in place as the ball fell from the sky. Antonio kept backing up but then at the last minute he ducked down and literally rolled sideways to my left. With a sense of satisfaction, I watched as the ball settled itself into the webbing of my glove.

  A loud shout rose from my team and they mobbed me on the field. Ian pulled Antonio to his feat just as I was crushed and knocked down by my over-zealous teammates.

  I tried to shout, “Guys! Guys! Air!”

  They struggled to their feet, and Sven pulled me up. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and shared a serious, full-mouth kiss. Our teammates broke into spontaneous applause.

  17

  Sven

  I followed Lowell to his car. He turned to me and asked, “Should we head to the Toolbox for the celebration?”

  I said, “I think I’ve got a better idea.”

  He searched my eyes, and then he gave me a cheerful smirk. I said, “I think I’m liking the way you’re thinking.”

  “My place?” I asked.

  Lowell grinned and said, “I’ll meet you there.”

  I was climbing out of the car as he pulled up to parallel park in front of the house. I waited for him to join me and we walked through the kitchen door arm in arm. We didn’t get very far before I was pushed up against the sink locked in a kiss.