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Who's On First

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Blurb

Clancy Makem has played for the Brookeville Scorpions for the past seventeen years and is considered the century’s best shortstop. After he tears his ACL for the fourth time, his career falls apart, and the team’s surgeon gives him no choice but to retire. At thirty-eight, he finds himself without a job, so he decides to return to college to get the degree he’d put on hold. With that fourth surgery looming on the horizon, he’s also in need of a temporary caregiver, something -- someone -- he’s unwilling to accept. Clancy’s teammates, who love their former shortstop, are willing to do whatever it takes to get rid of this person.

Charles Newton is a mathematical genius who had two master’s degrees under his belt by the age of eighteen. Now twenty-one, he has a doctorate waiting in the wings, only he finds himself burned out and with no desire to defend his dissertation. Even in the face of being disowned by his overbearing mother, he’s willing to walk away from academia. He’s in need of a job, and fortunately he’s offered one as a temporary caregiver to Clancy Makem -- a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone who’s secretly a baseball aficionado.

Will Clancy welcome Charles -- supposedly clueless when it comes to baseball -- into his home, or will his teammates succeed in running the younger man off? Will Charles get the chance to work with the man he’s admired for years? And who is this person they refer to as Chuck?

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Chapter 1
Chapter 1Clancy Makem, known in Major League Baseball circles as one of the best shortstops of this current generation, stared at the orthopedic surgeon who handled all the teams’ injuries. He’d had a feeling he’d torn his ACL during the latest All-Stars game, but he’d hoped… He sighed. “When can you operate, Doc?” He wasn’t looking forward to another surgery—this would make four, and at his age, they were becoming harder and harder to bounce back from—and to tell the truth, at thirty-eight, he wasn’t sure he could deal with the tedium of rehab. The doctor returned his somber gaze. “I’m sorry, Clance. Each time I operated on your ACL, it became more likely complications could arise. Oh, I can operate again, and after rehab, you shouldn’t have much trouble walking, but…” The silence dragged out. Okay, here it was. “Give it to me straight. Will I be able to field a ball?” “If you do, it will more or less cripple you. I’m sorry,” he said again. “This is pretty much the end of the road for your baseball career.” “Dammit.” But there was no heat in the word. Clancy had been afraid of that. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop since he’d made that leap to catch the pop fly and came down wrong. “Do you have a backup plan?” “Huh?” Clance rubbed a callused palm over his face. “Oh, I was working toward a degree in Early Childhood Education when I got tapped for the 2004 Summer Olympics.” They’d been held in Athens that year, which was where he’d come to fully accept that he was gay—oh, those Greek boys…He pulled his mind away from black hair and eyes like melted chocolate. “I can fall back on that. I guess.” He’d always liked kids. “The college I went to will probably take me back.” He gave it more thought. His grades back in the day had been good; after he’d been recruited, he’d donated frequently to the athletic department of Armand University as well as putting in numerous appearances—the Scorpions were a local team, having kept the name after Justice Taylor bought the team in the mid-nineties and moved them from Albuquerque east to Pennsylvania. The people of the tri-city area of Brookeville, Hancock, and Charlestown had developed a fondness for the team. With all that, in addition to his reputation in the world of professional sports…yeah, he was sure the university would jump at the opportunity to have him as a member of the student body again. And he wouldn’t have to dorm it this time: he had enough money so he could rent a little house off campus, or even buy one. He began to feel more cheerful. “All right, then. I’ll schedule you for the surgery and rehab, but I have to warn you. If you don’t take it easy this time, there won’t be much more I’ll be able to do for you.” “Gotcha.” “Ms. Johnson will set you up. Oh, and you’d better let Coach van Heusen know.” He looked tired. “And Mrs. Taylor.” “Right.” The Scorpions’ owner. She’d taken over the team after her husband had suffered a stroke and could no longer handle the operations. She was a good lady to work for, and damn, he was going to miss her. Well, no sense in putting it off. He rose to his feet, shook the doctor’s hand, and limped out to make arrangements for the surgery. And when that was done, he’d start making those phone calls.

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