DONOVAN
I elbowed my way through the crowd, making sure to avoid disturbing any of the ladies. The bar was packed, standing room only. There was a band playing on a tiny stage in the corner. It was a mix of country and rock.
Patrick and I had been going to that place for several years, meeting whenever it was convenient but not going more than two or three weeks without connecting. Pat and I played college baseball together. He’d landed a dream job working for the White Sox as a physical therapist. Whenever any of the players got injured, Patrick leapt into action. He got to meet all of the greats and had tickets to every game. Not that he used them. He had to be in the locker room or down in the dugout so he could jump in at a moment’s notice. But sometimes, he shared his tickets, giving me an opportunity to wow my dates with spectacular seats.
It wasn’t only women that I took to the games either. In politics, sometimes you have to grease palms. I wasn’t doing anything illegal, just offering to show people a good time. If a certain city council person wanted to collaborate on a project, it was logical for us to get together. If we happened to do that at a baseball game, there was no harm in that. I wasn’t selling tickets for votes.
I’d gotten my start in politics early. In college, I’d studied government and law, two things that were standard fare for any politician. My father was the mayor, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. That meant hitting the streets when I was young, working on other people’s campaigns, making connections, and introducing myself to voters.
For me, baseball was just a way of winding down after a hard day’s work. I was good at it, don’t get me wrong. I made the college team. I even got a scholarship to play, although it wasn’t a full ride. But my heart wasn’t in it. A lot of the guys were going to play for the major leagues. They had visions of fame and fortune in their heads and jumped at the chance to meet recruiters.
I kept my head down, focusing more on my coursework than on the court. I used baseball as a means to an end, and while I made some great friends through the process, I never continued down that path.
Approaching our usual table, I saw that Patrick was talking to some other guys. For a moment, I wondered who they were, then I recognized them as two players from the college team. Cory and Gavin were good friends of mine. I hadn’t even known they were in town.
I stormed up on the table, barely giving the guys time to stand before scooping them into a bear hug. It had been years since I’d seen either one of them. Gavin laughed and thumped me on the back; Cory returned the affection with equal enthusiasm.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.
“We took a job at an investment firm,” Cory said, seating himself after our greeting.
I grabbed the last empty seat at the table, eager to hear the news. “Where?”
“Downtown,” Gavin said.
“You’ve been traveling, haven’t you?” I remembered seeing Gavin off when he first went overseas. We’d had a going-away party for him that involved Jell-o shots at a strip club. It was a fond memory, and I hoped we could do something like that again.
“That’s right,” Gavin replied.
“So you guys are sticking around?” I asked.
“For the time being,” Cory allowed. “We’ve got to put in at least a couple years before moving on to something else.”
“I thought you were a photographer,” I told Gavin. It made sense for Cory to be working in a firm; he had an MBA. But Gavin was a free thinker, a world traveler, and an artist. I had a hard time imagining him wearing a three-piece suit.
“It was time to make a move,” Gavin explained, taking a sip of his brew. “I had some complications in my job, and I was ready for something different.”
“Did the complications wear a skirt?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Gavin grinned, giving me all the confirmation I needed.
“Do you want a drink?” Patrick asked.
“I’ll get it myself,” I said, standing up.
The bar was packed, and it took me a while to punch my way through the crowd to get service. I knew there were waiters and waitresses, but considering the density of the clientele, I didn’t think they would ever get around to me.
“Can I have a pint of whatever pale ale you have on tap?” I asked when it was my turn.
The bartender obliged, grabbing a glass and filling it to the brim. I paid in cash and took the drink back to my seat. The guys were deep into a conversation about baseball, and I eased my way in. Everyone seemed awestruck by what Patrick had done. Now that we were adults, the idea of working for a major league team seemed almost legendary. Next to clocking in at the office every day, sitting among professional athletes for a living sounded exciting.
“What about you?” Cory asked. “What are you up to?”
“Still working,” I said. It was no secret that I had my sights set on the mayor’s office. Everyone knew where I came from and that my father had held the position for some time. Back when we were all in school together, they used to call me Mr. Mayor. I wasn’t upset by that. I was going to make good on the promise sooner or later. “I haven’t started an official campaign, but I’m working my way in that direction.”
“What are you doing for a living?” Cory asked.
“I’m on several committees,” I replied. “Each one comes with a stipend.”