Minute by Minute: I Married the Major Leagues

By Lynn Hayes

After a meager and emotionally challenging childhood, Mary leaves home at age sixteen to forge her own path. Fueled by a strong sense of self-preservation and tenacity, Mary works hard to claw her way out of the darkness and find her purpose in life. When her path leads her to make two new friends, Mary eventually finds her way to Florida where a new beginning awaits.

A leap of faith prompts Mary to step into a world she never knew existed: a world of athlete superstars, soul-sucking fans, and more money than she could ever imagine. After Mary marries Javier Cortez, a Detroit Tiger baseball player, she must weather the storm of being treated as an outsider first by the trophy wives and then by his strong Cuban family. Now as she attempts to survive the emotional toll of her choices, Mary can only hope that Javier loves her enough to help her stand steadfast against the gossip, false accusations, and other dangerous obstacles that threaten to drive her away.

Minute by Minute shares the insightful story of one womans search for enduring love after she marries a professional baseball player and realizes that her challenges have just begun.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781480851870

Lynn Hayes

Lynn Hayes is the author of several children’s books that include My Sister is Beautiful, They Call Me Theodore, and I Can Fix It. She has also written for several online magazines. Lynn currently lives in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. Minute by Minute is her first novel.

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MINUTE BY

MINUTE

I Married the Major Leagues

LYNN HAYES

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Copyright © 2017 Lynn Hayes.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

You should not undertake any diet/exercise regimen recommended in this book before consulting your personal physician. Neither the author nor the publisher shall be responsible or liable for any loss or damage allegedly arising as a consequence of your use or application of any information or suggestions contained in this book.

Archway Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5186-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5187-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017913788

Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/08/2017

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

About The Author

When you’re very young, the minutes just drag along slowly as you watch the clock on the classroom wall. As you grow, time seems to fly by, and you want to make each minute count.

I called him my salvation. He made me happy to be alive, and he gave me what I never imagined: future happiness. There’d been so much tragedy in my life. Bumps in the road, Lizzy would call them. You have to forgive and forget, she’d preach. Just put the past behind you, and go with this. This man is your future. Lizzy was great at giving advice. Truly, I needed it. She never steered me wrong. Lizzy and Ronnie were my lifelines, before I met Him. They’d taken an uneducated runaway and given her a home and a purpose. Lizzy and Ronnie were my godparents, my guardian angels, my employers, and my best friends.

CHAPTER ONE

I T’S HARD TO EXPLAIN my past. I don’t want to ever think about my life after I lost my parents. There are early memories of a blessed childhood with my beautiful mother and my loving father. I was very young when they died, and then I was shifted from one well-meaning relative to another until I was 16, when I finally lit out. Running away is not the answer, I realize, but one of those ‘well-intentioned’ uncles was a little too creepy and got a little too close. I’d seen enough television to know what happens to young girls who are dependent upon older men for everything. I left.

I had high ideals about making a life for myself. I knew I’d have to take some menial jobs until I could afford better clothes and a place to live. I knew it would be rough. What I didn’t know was that I was not tough enough for life on the road. I was not a strong homeless person. There might be safety in numbers, but most of the wandering people I met were dangerous. I started sneaking into churches, thinking I could sleep unnoticed in a pew and maybe wash in the morning in their lavatory. Churches are locked. You have to go in during the day, people see you, and if you’re not dressed well, people watch you until you leave. YMCA’s and YWCA’s aren’t much better.

I had worked two jobs while I was still going to school, living with my second-to-last fake relatives. I managed a paper route before school and worked in a candy store after school. After saving every penny, I still didn’t have enough to rent a room nor buy decent clothes. I used the Y’s washer/dryer facilities whenever I could. I showered there, and someone stole my only possession - an empty purse that had once belonged to my mother. I didn’t keep my cash in there, and I‘m lucky the thief didn‘t find my paltry sums. All she or he got was dirty clothes that I’d stuffed in the bottom. So I wandered, mostly hungry, mostly dirty, and I volunteered a lot. You can serve meals at the homeless shelters and get a few days’ supply of food that way. You can go to an all-night movie to try to catch some sleep. The trouble is all sorts of wandering people do that, and the film ends before the sun comes up. You still have the darkness to maneuver around in, and you have to really love French films.

I was pretty creative, I have to say. In one of the films, the young woman claimed to be a dog walker. Actually her real occupation was revealed in her clothing - or lack thereof - and her flirting with all the men in the film. (Most of the women in those late night movies got through life living off men). I learned not to trust many people, but maybe I could trust dogs. I took some paper and pencils from the Y (I was always drawing things), and wrote little advertisements that I thought looked quite nice:

Dog walking - $2.00 an hour

Also available for dog sitting, training, and other help with your pets

I added a picture of a dog I’d seen - a poodle - and I stood near the door of the local Pet Smart Store and passed out my ads (until the teen-age manager came out and told me to MOVE ON). I thought I’d had a great idea, but, as I had no phone number to put on my cards, no one could call me if they were in need of a dog walker. I didn’t get any takers.

Never one to give up easily, I asked Jerry, the head janitor at the Y, for more paper, and he gave me an almost-full ream of copy machine paper and a pack of colored pencils! That was over the top, and I went to work on redesigning my ads. Armed with my new, improved offers of help for only $3.00 an hour, I walked around Petco and Scalawags stores and finally got a couple of customers. They gave me their addresses and told me to come right over. I was assigned one beagle and two Pomeranians.

My little troop marched down the street with our heads held high, me carrying three plastic dishes, a water bottle, and a large supply of plastic baggies. My first day in business netted me $18. I was on to something here!

People saw me walking my dogs in the next few days, and soon I’d added a Border Terrier and an English Toy Spaniel to my group. I walked five dogs for five days, two hours a day, and I’d made $150!!! On the weekends, I got a job at Magic Jack’s Diner. (I don’t think Magic Jack reported accurately to the IRS. There were several of us youngsters washing dishes behind the scenes with no Social Security cards. We had lots of busboys clearing tables, and then there was a group of ‘supervisors’ - bouncers - who watched over the gambling games in the back room. None of us paid taxes and that‘s the way Magic Jack liked it.) I got to know Magic Jack pretty well, and I guess he liked that I didn’t do drugs or smoke or anything. He figured I was just a kid who had no family and no place to go. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, so we got on just fine. I never said the work was too hard or there was some job I didn’t want to do.

I didn’t want to stay at the homeless shelter any longer. People there can smell money, and they have no problem getting it away from someone smaller or weaker. Magic Jack had a friend who owned a bed and breakfast. He said I could rent a furnished room with bath for $50 a week. It sounded too good to be true - it was. The place was a dump, but I could bathe, and I worked hard enough and long enough to start buying new t-shirts and slacks. I was saving up for winter clothes. I had a jacket, of course, but I needed boots, hat, scarf, all the things that were back at my last foster home. Still, I was on my own. I was doing well. I had my dogs during the week and my job at Jack’s on the weekends. Who needs more?

One day, Schatzy, the oranger Pomeranian (the female) began giving her breakfast up to the neighbors’ lawns. She was pretty sick, so I decided to take her back home. I was about to knock on the door, when I heard a scream. Not believing one should run toward danger, I tried very hard to make a U-turn and not get tangled up in all the dogs’ leashes. I failed. The dogs were all barking like crazy, and I was knotted up in leather ropes when I heard a shot. I was hoping a car had backfired, but I knew that sound came from inside the house. The dogs and I wanted to run, but no one knew which way to go, so, of course, we were blocking the escape path of the bearded man who flew out of the door, gun in hand, staring at me. The dogs did their best to protect me. They nipped at the man’s feet and Schatzy even got in a bite or two of his jeans. The man grunted my way. (I interpreted that as, I’ll get you some day, young lady), and off he ran.

Okay. I was scared. I had probably just witnessed a murder. I didn’t have a phone. I couldn’t call the police, and I couldn’t stop the dogs from barking. All of us went to the park, and I laid down on a bench to stop my head from pounding and slow down my beating heart. The dogs loved the park and were suddenly calmed down, relaxing in the grass and listening to the birds singing. I don’t know how long we were there. I’d close my eyes, but I’d just see Old Beard waving that gun around. When I knew I had to move on, I delivered the boys and girl backwards - Border Terrier first, until I got to the Pomerian home. The police were there. I told them I just wanted to return the two dogs, and they figured I was inconsequential. They let me go. A person had probably been shot dead inside that house, and I probably could identify the killer. I didn’t tell them that. I didn’t know why anyone would kill a loving dog owner, but I couldn’t stick around to find out. I only made $9 that day, and I explained to the other dog owners that I was leaving town and this job was over. I went to the bed and breakfast and collected my two t-shirts, one pair of jeans, and one pair of shorts and clean underwear, and started off on my own again.

CHAPTER TWO

T HAT’S HOW I FOUND Lizzy and Ronnie - or rather, how they found me. Being a dog walker was a great job for me. You see, I love to walk. I could walk all day and it wouldn’t bother me. So, I walked all the way downtown to the bus station. The next bus leaving town was in the docks, loading. The bus would travel from Michigan to Cincinnati. The fare was $165. That was a lot of money! I would have had more than that, if I hadn’t left the week’s rent for the bed and breakfast in an envelope for Mrs. Andary, the owner. I walked around to see if there were cheaper ways of escaping town, when I found the charter bus lines. A group of Methodist Musketeers were boarding a bus, and a rather heavy lady who dropped her bag told me they were headed for Florida.

We’re all going to Tampa, honey. Why don’t you come, too?

I - I …no ticket, I managed to mumble.

Oh that’s all right, Honey, the lady said after I’d helped her with her very, very heavy bag. None of us has tickets. I’m from First United, and these here folks are from the Southern Conference in Livonia. We’re from all over. We put together this trip weeks ago - mostly seniors, don’t you know - and we figured we’d fill two buses, what with grandchildren and others. But, as you can see, there’s plenty of room. Guess no one wants to travel by bus no more. Everything’s been paid for, so hop on board, if you want to see Florida, that is. It’s a nice, long trip, and I’ve got enough sandwiches and cookies to last the two of us for days on end.

How could I possibly turn down such an offer? I had my little plastic baggie filled with the only clothing I owned, no swimsuit, and I had my $95 in cash. I was ready for a new start. If all seniors were as kind and generous as this lady, this was where I wanted to be. Just get me out of Michigan and away from that gunman, who might be looking for me even now.

My new friend loved to eat. The sandwiches (I had one, she had three) were delicious, and the bus was air-conditioned. She also loved to talk, between bites. She’s a widow, she told me, with no grandchildren. Her son died in Vietnam. Her married name is Lally. At 75, she’s thinking of taking back her maiden name - Smith - since her first name is Sally. I’ve always been the subject of giggles with a name like Sally Lally, she said. Sally talked until she was all tuckered out - before she got to the really hard questions about my background. She fell asleep. I finally felt safe, relatively clean, and full, so I napped as well.

It was only a couple of hours later when the driver announced that we would make a lavatory stop for ten minutes. My friend was still sleeping, so I decided to have a look around the Ohio bus stop. Maybe the newspapers would have a story about the murder, even though it was so soon. Nothing in the headlines that I could see by glancing through and not actually buying anything. I moved over to a coffee shop corner, and there were computers in the wi-fi section. The sign said you could rent one for $5.00 an hour, and I had to know what was going on back home. I loved all the computer classes I’d had in school. I probably fit into the age category of kids growing up with computers, not being afraid of computers, and doing everything from homework- to-communicating, with computers. I’d had a Facebook page before any of my friends (and before one of my uncles took steps to shut it down, saying it brought filth and destruction into his home). When I was living with a new set of distant relatives, the computer was my savior. I was never allowed to go out much or have friends over, so I was on the computer many of the 24 hours in a day. I could block out a lot of misery and self-pity, playing on the computer, making up stories or doing math problems. I kept entering the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, but my fortune never came.

I got right into the Detroit news and scoured the stories online but found nothing about a woman being shot in her own home on the east side. I looked up and printed out an article about Magic Jack’s new casino (didn’t know that was in the works - was he going to go legit?), and then I figured our ten minute potty break was over. I’d have to continue my search at the next stop. I could see our bus still waiting outside, and I knew the driver wasn’t waiting for me. An elderly couple whom I’d seen sitting at the back of the bus was still at the computers, and the man was softly swearing up a storm. His wife kept patting his arm and saying, Dear, we’re not alone. The man was furious with the computer, and he finally hit it really hard, logged off - I guess, or broke it - and we all re-boarded our bus for Florida.

Our next stop was just outside Cincinnati. I started to realize it was the bus driver who needed all of these bathroom breaks, but he instructed everyone to get off and stretch the legs. Again, I looked for a computer. This time, the little restaurant was connected to an old-fashioned book store. I loved it! If I had remembered to bring my baggie full of belongings with me, I could have called this my last stop. I would have started my new life in Cincinnati, but first I would have spent hours, maybe days, in this bookstore. I started imagining getting a job here, having access to their computers (I saw two on a table in the back), and eating at the little restaurant next door. I didn’t know where I’d live. I logged on, for free, and looked again for any news of the Pomeranians’ mother or father being shot or of the police searching for a bearded guy. Nothing. What was taking so long? Okay, so I only left Michigan six hours ago, but murder is news, right? I decided to check out a few boarding houses or hotels in the area, and I got pretty engrossed in reading all about Cincinnati and printing out maps of the city and suburbs. Dog owners are more plentiful in the suburbs. When I had these items in hand, I created a new ad that I could pass out about my dog-walking skills, experience, and fees. I was so engrossed in what I was doing, working under a time constraint, that I didn’t notice I was being watched.

My goodness. You certainly can work that computer, said a nice-looking lady. She was the wife of the gent who hated computers. It’s time to get back on the bus, dear, she said with a smile.

I didn’t know how much tattletale personna was behind that smile, though she looked harmless. I just nodded, collected my papers, and made the decision to get back on the bus. I sat next to Sally Lally, who was still sleeping (and snoring), and the bus headed for Kentucky. When the road sign said, Welcome to Kentucky, I thought ’this time I’ll take my belongings with me, just in case I want