The Strike Out
As soon as Sheila saw her older brother, Paul, walk into the overcrowded coffee shop, she stood so he would see her. He smiled, waved and pointed to the counter to let her know he wanted to order something. He mouthed the words, “Want anything?” She shook her head no and pointed to her coffee cup. He got a kick when he saw the flicker of hope registering on the faces of other men when Sheila stood. Was she actually beckoning them? In her mid-forties now, she was still very pretty.
“Well, little sister, what’s so important that we had to meet this early on a Wednesday morning? Is it even light out yet?”
“Good morning to you too,” she said. “It’s Jack. I can’t take it anymore. I’m leaving him.”
Paul yawned. “You could have just called me to tell me that.”
“I can’t believe I did it again. You know what I mean?”
“Not really. I mean you’ve been married three times now. Did you ever marry for love?”
“I loved Jack.” She smirked, acknowledging it wasn’t true.
Paul took a bite of his almond croissant, followed by a sip of coffee. “Always too hot,” he said. “Why’d you marry Jack?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You were broke. He had money and you made him believe he was your knight in shining armor.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Sheila said. Her cell phone rang. She checked it and frowned. She silenced it and put it back in her purse. “It’s Jack. He’s constantly checking on me.”
“You want my advice? Is that why we’re here?”
“You are a lawyer and I’m going to need alimony.”
“You know I don’t handle divorce.”
The coffee shop was getting busier still. The noise was making it hard to have a conversation. “How about your friend, Kennedy? She handles divorce, doesn’t she?”
“Not for free, Sheila.”
“Maybe she could stick Jack with the bill.”
“If I hadn’t been there, I’d swear we weren’t raised in the same family, you know that?”
“Does Joanna know about your affair with Kennedy?”
“I did not have an affair with Kennedy.”
Sheila grinned. “Joanna will believe it if I say it happened.”
Paul laughed. He couldn’t help it. He knew his sister would never do such a thing. “Just for the hell of it, what grounds for divorce do you plan on using this time?”
“Emotional abuse. More alimony that way.”
“Don’t count on that, Sheila. Really, why do you want a divorce? Jack seems like a nice guy.”
“For starters, he’s boring. He’s very opinionated and he always has to be right. And that makes him predicable. He was lousy in bed even when he was capable.”
Paul nodded. “These are things you must have known before you married him. What made you think you could make a marriage like that last?”
Sheila looked at her polished nails. “I expect one thing and I get another, I guess.”
“Jack is a bright guy. He worked hard to build his business. He must have something going for him.”
“Money. Listen, I don’t mean to sound so wicked. I did like him and he was so sweet to me and my kids. He still is. He’s bailed us out more than once. He’s a generous guy.”
“Well, isn’t that something you can build on?”
“Build what? He’s obsessed with baseball. From February until the World Series he’s glued to either the television or his damn cell phone.”
Paul finished his croissant. “So?”
“You haven’t heard the best part. In the off season, he plays this tabletop game with dice, something called APBA. Plays with his friends on Google Hangouts all over the country,” she said. “You know what it’s like to hear a man, almost 70, yelling at the top of his lungs because he rolled two sixes?”
“What do two sixes mean?” Paul asked. He knew but he asked anyway. He’d played the game while he was in law school. He took a sip of coffee to smother his smile.
“He has these playing cards with numbers on them. Apparently two sixes equal a home run. If I hear him yell, ‘sixty-six’ one more time I’m going to 86 him.”
“Was he playing the game when you met him?”
“Yeah. He wanted to show me how to play so we could do it together. I should have dumped him then.”
“You married him anyway though.”
Sheila sighed. “What you said earlier is true. I was desperate for money. No offense, big brother, but you were blessed with the brains and I got the good looks. We use what we have.”
“I love you Sheila, you’re my sister, but you use other people. If you used everything you have, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
“I cannot believe you said that. I’m a social worker, Paul. I bleed for my clients. And you know I’m a good mother, damn it.”
“You’re a wonderful mother.”
“So, can you get your friend to represent me?”
Paul stood and stretched, ready to leave. “Go home and ask Jack what usually happens when you roll a four and a six.”
“You bastard.” Sheila knew exactly what it meant. She’d heard Jack’s cries of anguish often enough. A four and a six was a strikeout.