The Vicar's Widow

“Kelly, whaddaya saying?” Guido cried.

“I’m saying that attempted steal was poetry in motion. Beautifully executed,” she continued over Guido’s groans. “Really, if you think about it, the only thing missing?”

“Yeah?”

“A tutu and the final pirouette when he hit the bag.”

Guido and Paul with the Jersey accent howled with laughter along with the stadium of cheers as Parker shouted at the ceiling and sank deeper into the pillows. He had to stop it. He had to stop it.

“Hey, Guido, did we get our game count of how many balls disappeared in his magic glove last night?” Kelly asked, dragging up a little stunt they did sometimes, which was to count how many errors he’d made—and count them with a giant gong, which they seemed to think was hilarious. They never cute him any slack, never counted how many spectacular, leaping grabs he had. Oooh no. That was because Kelly O’Shay had it in for him.

“Let’s see, Guido, there was the line drive up the middle that nearly took his hat off, right?”

Parker didn’t hear the rest because he had grabbed the radio, yanked it from the wall, and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and fell, cracking in the center. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed his phone, punched a number, stood up, and stalked across the room to pick up the pieces of the radio.

“Sportsdaywithkellyoshay,” a young man answered rapidly.

“This is Parker Price, and I want to talk to Kelly,” he said gruffly as he dumped the radio into a trash can.

“Right, and I’m Tinkerbell,” the guy snorted.

Parker stilled. “Look, you little ass, I am Parker Price, and I want a word with Kelly O’Shay right this minute!”

“Hey, pal, you know how many goofs call every single day claiming to be someone? And like Parker Price would have the ’nads to call this show!” He snorted again. “Save it for your girlfriend, pal,” he said, and hung up before Parker could get another word out.

Parker yanked the receiver from his ear and stared at it. The kid had just hung up on him! With a roar, he hurled the phone onto his bed, but in the next instant, he pounced on it, punching in another number.

“Frank,” he said when the call was answered. “Did you hear the show this morning?”

“Still hearing it,” Frank, his agent, said jovially.

“It’s gotta stop. I can’t take that constant needling. She is single-handedly ruining my career.”

“Park, Park! Calm down, now! Why don’t you just listen to another station?” Frank asked as Parker padded into a massive walk-in closet.

“I can’t! You know I can’t! Frank, I have to talk to her. I have to explain baseball to her so she will stop jinxing me. You have to get me know that show.”

He could almost hear Frank gulp. “No, Park. That is not a good idea—”

“Did you hear anything I said?” Parker shouted as he reached for a box containing a new radio alarm from a stack of boxes that contained radios identical to the one he’d broken moments ago. And yesterday. And four days ago after the San Francisco game. “I’m telling you, Frankie, if she’d just back off, I’d start hitting again!”

“Listen to me, Parker,” Frank said, sounding a little frantic. “You are putting too much stock into what this check says. She’s nobody! She’s just a morning trash jockey trying to keep her measly little share of the market! Look, look, look, take a walk, go out with a girl, maybe take in a movie, something like that. But don’t let her get under your skin. She’s not worth it.”

“Frank,” Parker said, stuffing the box with the new radio under his arm. “I want on that show. If you don’t get me on that show, I will fire your ass and find an agent who will. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Like hell I don’t!” Parker roared into the phone so hard that he dropped the box with the radio. “You get me on that damn show, or I will get an agent who will!”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Frank said. “I’ll call you later,” he said and clicked off.

Parker tossed his phone onto the bed, then stooped to pick up the box with the new radio alarm. Frank would get him on that show. He better. The whole season was riding on it.