Page 78 of On Fire Island

“They were on the list,” he added, real casually as if he had ordered Band-Aids or bug spray. “You know what I say, Dylan—you should always be prepared.”

He quickly changed the subject.

“Want to catch the end of the game? It’s too nice out to be inside.”

The three of them couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

Shep filled them in when they arrived at the field.

“Looking good. Bottom of the seventh—no outs, man on first and second. Eddie is up, Little Les is in the hole!” With Nana Hannah adding for me, “It’s a real nail-biter.”

“I hope it’s a win—for my last game and all,” I told her.

“You’ll be back if you want to.” She touched my cheek and added, “It’s just like baseball. You have to leave home in order to return to it again. Look up there!”

Nana pointed to the rooftop on right field. It was filled withyears’ worth of Bay Harbor and Oceanview softball fans. I was very surprised to see them all.

“The Rabbi told me there are three generations of past relatives at weddings and bar mitzvahs. I never thought the Homeowners’ Game would rate.”

“I guess for some, like you, it does.”

Eddie hit a powerful line drive and headed to first, loading the bases as everyone cheered. Little Les was on deck. It was as close to a sure thing as possible. It was tense, but bases loaded and no outs was a damn good place to be. Still, no one breathed.

Little Les stood at the plate looking like a major leaguer. He waited out the first pitch.

“Strike!”

And then the second.

“Strike!”

No one dared to make a peep as the third pitch flew from the mound. He connected with it, and the sharp welcome sound of a solid hit reverberated through the air as the ball barreled down the third-base line. The third basemen reached down his mitt and picked it off before it flew by, nearly burning a hole in his glove. He tagged out the runner heading home, stepped on third base for a forced out and then threw the ball to first. The first baseman caught it with ease and stepped on the bag, just seconds before Little Les arrived—smiling at the amazing play. If there was anyone on the field that day who cared more about being in the game than winning it, it was Little Les.

The crowd went wild.

“Triple play!”

“Oceanview!”

“We won!”

“They Lawrence Welk’ed us!”

Nana had to explain the triple-play reference to the old bandleader to me.

“An’ a one, an’ a two, an’ a three!”

Oceanview was ecstatic, Bay Harbor in shock, and Jake, not one known for his humor, surprised them with an excellent joke, “Wow. That came out of left field.”

He was full of surprises today.

Matty and Dylan laughed, because it was funny and because it came from Jake. Jake smiled knowingly as Joel yelled out, “Come on, guys, there’s always next year!”

Ben and Shep looked at each other and reluctantly agreed to the concept of making it till next year. Shep patted Ben on the back.

“I was thinking of hanging up my cleats, but I guess I can do one more.”

The teams lined up on the field to shake hands. I watched as Ben took it all in: Andie holding baby Oliver, who was sucking on a clean softball, Dylan and Jake petting Charlie, the drummer putting his arm around Renee, and Tuck chatting up Lisa Marlin-Cohen-Fitzpatrick at the end of the bleachers—though something told me he didn’t like pie.

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