coach, but that was when Ron had had his heart attack, and Renee hadn’t wanted to leave her father, and the organization had agreed to let him stay for another year. Then another. Then another. And now, end of the line.
Down on the water, the police drew the boat alongside a house where a woman leaned out of a window. She was large, her bulk filling the window, and when the officers helped her into the boat, it settled significantly in the water before it puttered off toward dry land, the woman clearly leaving behind everything she had.
Get over yourself, he heard his mother saying. There are people with worse problems. Yes, he thought. A little water in the basement was as bad as the storms had made it for him. Still, he felt his chest tightening and realized he was shaking. He saw himself the next year as one of the pathetic old men he’d known when he was a kid in the game: a codger who kept his house only by renting rooms to players, someone willing to clip money off the rent if they listened to his stories: There was this time in Montreal …
“I know this leaves you in something of a lurch,” Collier said. “I don’t know if it will do any good, but I put in a word with this guy.” He shrugged.
“That’s great,” Edward Everett said. Nothing would come from it; the Reds would have their own people. He thought: he would have to sell the house, hope there was enough equity in it to let him live until he could find work. But his house was in no condition to sell. He hadn’t painted anything since Renee and he gave it a polish before she moved in. The leak in the basement. The kitchen looked like something from 1975.
“We been friends a long time,” Collier said, his voice soft. “Ain’t many people in this town I can talk to, you know, mano to mano. The folks here …” He swept his arm to the side. “Doctors, lawyers. They got education. All I got come from the College of Bust Your Ass Till You Get Blisters.” He reached into his pants pocket, jiggling his body in the recliner, the braces creaking, and came out with a folded piece of paper. A check. Collier opened it, read the amount as if he had no idea what was written on its face, folded it but continued to hold it. “I know I ain’t obligated, you know?”
“I know,” Edward Everett said.
“It’s just a small token, you know. Appreciation and blah blah blah. But you’re gonna have expenses.” He held it out to Edward Everett, who reached for it, but Collier pulled it back slightly. “You can’t breathe a word of this. Not a word to nobody. Especially not the wife. God, especially not her.” He laughed.
“I won’t.”
Collier extended the check once more and Edward Everett took it, thinking: three thousand, five thousand, enough to reface the cabinets, enough to hire the college kid painters who tack their flyers to the bulletin board at the supermarket. He started to slip it into his shirt pocket but Collier said, “Go ahead,” winking. Edward Everett unfolded it. Three hundred dollars. He was not certain whether to laugh. How could Collier be enough of a businessman to run a meatpacking business and have no idea how small an amount three hundred dollars was, even to someone like Edward Everett? “Now, I’m sure you gotta scoot,” Collier said. “And I gotta get on Mavis’s buttocks to nail down that place for you guys to play out the string here.”
Edward Everett stood to leave but Collier grabbed hold of his sleeve, keeping him back. “You know I wouldn’t of sold if I had a choice,” he said. “If the town fuckers would of anted up for a new ballpark … but that’s as likely as Mrs. Collier saying her days at Macy’s are over.”
“I know,” Edward Everett said. In the living room, Ginger and the woman in the tailored suit were still looking at fabric swatches, three large books already on the floor.
“Now, this one costs a little more, but I think you’ll see what I mean,” the design consultant said. Ginger ran her hand over the material with her eyes closed. “Yes, yes,” she said. “I see what you mean.” She opened her eyes. “Coll?” she said.
“Jesus, woman,” Collier said, “you’re gonna break me.”
Edward Everett let himself out.
Chapter Twenty-six
Later that afternoon,