The Exchange: After The Firm

The pressing matter at home was a youth baseball game in Central Park. Carter and Clark played for the Bruisers, a serious contender in the Under Eight division of the city’s police league. Carter was the catcher and loved the dirt and sweat. Clark roamed the outfield and missed half the action. Mitch had almost no time to help coach the team, but he volunteered as the bench coach and tried to keep the lineup straight. It was a crucial task because if any kid, regardless of talent or interest, played one inning less than the others, his parents would be waiting in ambush after the game.

After a few light skirmishes with parents, Mitch was already plotting ways to interest the twins in individual sports such as golf and tennis. However, some of those parents were just as terrifying. Perhaps hiking and skiing might be more enjoyable.

The boys stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the foyer as Mitch inspected their uniforms. Abby was worrying about the time; they were already running late. They left in a rush and hurried along Sixty-Eighth Street to Central Park West. The teams were on one of the many fields of the Great Lawn, limbering up in the outfield as coaches yelled and parents huddled in the falling temperatures.

Hiding in the dugout presented its own challenges, but Mitch preferred it to the bleachers where the adults chatted nonstop about careers, real estate, new restaurants, new nannies, new trainers, schools, and so on.

The umpires arrived and the game began. For ninety minutes Mitch sat on the bench, surrounded by a dozen eight-year-olds, and managed to shut out the rest of the world. He kept the score book, made the substitutions, huddled with Mully, the head coach, chided the umpires, ribbed the opposing coach, and treasured the moments when his own sons sat beside him and talked baseball.

The Bruisers crushed the Rams, and at the final out the players and coaches lined up for the postgame handshaking rituals. The staff, Mully and Mitch, were determined to teach their players the virtues of sportsmanship, and they led by example. Winning was always fun, but winning with class was far more important.

In a crowded city with far too few fields and an abundance of kids, the games were limited by time, not innings. Another one was scheduled to start right away and it was important to clear the field. The victorious Bruisers and their parents walked to a pizzeria on Columbus Avenue where they commandeered a long table in the back and ordered dinner. The fathers had tall beers, the mothers chardonnay, while the players, all proud of their dirty uniforms, devoured pizza as they watched the Mets on a big screen.

Almost all the fathers were in finance, law, or medicine, and they were from well-to-do families from across the country. As a general rule they didn’t talk much about where they were from. There was always plenty of good-natured talk about college football rivalries, favorite golf courses, and such, but the conversations rarely drifted to their hometowns. They were in New York now, on the biggest stage, living the big life, proud of their success, and they considered themselves real New Yorkers.

Danesboro, Kentucky, was another world and Mitch never mentioned it. He thought of it, though, as he watched his own boys laugh and chatter with their friends. He had played all the sports the small town had to offer, and he could not remember a single game when his parents were watching. His father died when he was just a boy, and afterward his mother worked in low-wage jobs to support him and his brother, Ray. She never had the time to watch a ball game.

What lucky kids these were. Affluent lives, private schools, and supportive parents who were too involved in their activities. Mitch often worried that his kids would be too pampered and too soft, but Abby disagreed. Their school was demanding and pushed the students to achieve and excel. Carter and Clark were, at least so far, well-rounded and being taught proper values both at school and at home.

Abby was startled at the news that Luca was gravely ill. She had met many Scully partners, probably too many, from all over the world, and Luca was by far her favorite. She wasn’t keen on the idea of Mitch traveling to Libya, but if Luca said it was safe, then she wouldn’t push back. Not that it would do any good. Since he made partner four years earlier, Mitch had become a seasoned traveler. She often went with him, especially when the destination was exciting. European cities were her favorite. Between her parents, her kid sister, and a collection of nannies, babysitting was rarely a problem. But the boys were getting older and more active, and Abby feared her globe-trotting days were about to be curtailed. She also suspected, though had said nothing, that her husband’s success would mean even more time away from home.

Late that night, she brewed a pot of chamomile tea that was supposed to induce “slumber,” and they cuddled and chatted on the sofa and tried to get sleepy.