Brian smiled inside, kept juggling, and spoke. “I do take the game seriously.

Check the stats. Don’t I have the best record in the league for fewest stolen bases allowed?” Of course, he did. Catching runners was a hoot.

He heard mumbled agreement and juggled himself toward the door. “Sorry to break this up early, but I’ve got a date…with a very special lady.” His heart squeezed for a moment as one by one, he caught each ball.

Turning at the doorway, he added, “I can’t disappoint her.” He jogged back to the stairwell.

##

Silence reigned for half-a-minute after Brian disappeared. Dave spoke first.

“What just happened here? Does anyone know what just happened in here?”

“That was Brian being Brian,” said Megan. “Doing what he always does—

having fun.”

“At whose expense?” asked Dave.

“And who’s the special lady?” asked Megan. “Maybe she’s the key to unlocking him.”

“No girlfriends that I know of,” said Rick. “And I’d probably know if there was someone.”

“Ditto that,” said Dave. “His whole family’s back east though. His brother’s with

the Red Sox. Maybe we should’ve drafted him instead.”

“We needed a pitcher, not a fielder,” said Rick.

Interesting. She hadn’t thought about his brother or his family, for that matter.

She knew little about them, had never been curious. She knew the married players’ wives and many of their children. They went to the games and most of the women played in the annual wives’ softball game each year, which she coached. But as for the single guys…she didn’t know much. They seemed more self-contained. Or maybe they just preferred keeping their private lives…private.

“I’ll leave you three to figure out the details,” said Scott, “and I’ll brief Harold on our game plan.” He turned to Megan. “Do your best, but don’t make sacrifices you wouldn’t ordinarily make.”

“Huh?”

“You’re part of the team, too, Megan. Play it safe.” He waved and left the room.

“I’ll second that. Delaney’s a playboy, so keep your guard up,” said Dave.

“You’re concerned for nothing,” said Megan. “I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

“You’ve got a great kid, though,” said Dave. “So that wasn’t a mistake.”

“My son,” Megan began, and to her surprise, started choking up, “is the best child in the world.” A new thought struck her about this assignment. “I need to keep Delaney away from Josh.” She walked back and forth. “I’ll have to figure out...”

Dave’s hand went up again. “Slow down a minute. This whole project might not last very long at all. Think about Sandy Koufax. It took him six years — six years, Megan—before the whole game clicked for him and his brilliance on the mound showed up as no-hitters and perfect games. Brian Delaney is just about at that same point.” He looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe…?’

She tilted her head back. “From your mouth to God’s ears, as my mom always says. With Delaney, we really will need divine help to perform an attitude adjustment or…should I say, a baseball miracle?”

“Ha! You’re right. I hope you have a direct line to the bigger boss upstairs.”

Click here to read the rest of the story!

Chapter One - The Broken Circle

January 1995

Boston

A knock at her grad school apartment door pulled Lisa Delaney away from Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Torcelli Construction. Eyes burning, she rubbed her lids while, from her iPod, she heard Bryan Adams insist that everything he did, he did for her. Old song. Easy words. If the man really wanted to impress, he could take her contracts exam in the morning.

She pushed away from her desk, covered in law books and case briefs, and rose from her chair, stretching, bending and groaning. Her knees creaked like an arthritic old lady’s. Shaking her head, she emitted a long sigh and promised herself a gym visit the next day—after the exam.

A second knock echoed, this time more impatiently

“I’m coming. Hang on.” Nimble again, she rushed across the room and opened the door.

Her eyes widened, her stomach began to roil as she looked at two uniformed state troopers, snow melting on their jackets, cop faces in place. Her thoughts raced with possibilities. Classmates? Mike? Oh, please, not Mike.

“Are you Lisa Delaney?”

She stared at bad news and froze. All of her. Nothing worked. Not her mind, tongue, or breath. Perhaps her heart had stopped, too. One man coughed. The other repeated the question.

“I-I’m Lisa.”

“Are your parents’ names Robert and Grace Delaney?”

Oh, God, yes! Her heart raced at Mach speed, but she couldn’t feel her legs at all. “What happened?”

“May we come in, Ms. Delaney?” Taller cop.

She nodded and pulled the door wider, but the knob slipped through her sweaty hands and she lost her balance.

“You might want to sit down.”

As though moving underwater, she struggled into the closest chair.

“I’m afraid there’s been an accident on the turnpike,” began the quiet-till-now officer. “A fatal accident.”

“Not…not my…my parents?” She barely got the words out before the officers’

sympathetic silence answered her question.

“But that’s impossible! I just spoke to my dad…”