Traded – By JCC Downing
TRADED
BY JCC DOWNING
“In baseball news, a surprising three-way trade took place today. Chicago sent slugger Troy Palmerson along with minor leaguers Randy Molland and Billy Charles to Los Angeles, while LA sent right-handed pitcher Danny Rightman and minor leaguers Jackson Knight and Nate Paul to San Diego. San Diego, in turn, sent shortstop Sam Raymond and right-handed pitcher Eddie Clark to Chicago to complete the deal.”
Troy Palmerson sat in his now-former manager’s office, face pale with disbelief. “I said I wanted to go to New York, not LA. What the fuck, Shep?”
Merton Shepard shook his head. “Troy, you know how much the higher ups wanted Clark. This was the only way to get him.”
“You said any trade would go to New York…”
“And I told Ben that’s what you offered. But when LA started shopping Clark, the suits started dealing.”
“And I get fucked.” Troy slammed his fist into the chair arm and jumped to his feet. “This is bullshit, Shep?—”
“Troy! Sit the fuck down!” Shep rarely raised his voice, but when he did, everyone listened.
Troy was no exception. Clearing his throat, Shep continued.
“I’mma give it to you straight, Troy. You are thirty-two years old with two years left on your contract, and while your batting numbers are fantastic, you’ve been on and off the injured list this year.
New York didn’t want to take over your contract. LA did.”
“They didn’t need to offer me up…” Troy protested weakly.
“But they did, and LA bit.” Shep sat back in his chair. “You’ve been around long enough to know that at the end of the day, it’s just business.”
Troy exhaled hard. “Just business to them.”
Shep waited a beat, then added, “Look on the bright side. Scott Anders is on the team. Didn’t you and he come up through the minors together?” At Troy’s nod, Shep continued, “And don’t your kids live in Oxnard? You’d be closer to them.”
Everyone knew the only reason he and Shannon split was because she finally came out. His ten-year-old twin girls lived with her and her wife, who was a software developer in California. He got out there as often as he could but during the season, those days were few and far between.
“Yeah, there’s that…”
“So, getting them down to a game more often wouldn't really be an issue.” Shep smiled then. “You play your best baseball when your girls are in the stands.”
Troy smiled then, chuckling. “They get as loud and rowdy as the rest of the crowd.”
“And who do they get that from?” Shep teased.
They both laughed then. Troy took a deep breath. “Two years in LA…”
“And if you keep hitting like you do, I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered you more… or maybe you could get New York interested. Rumor has it their DH is thinking about retiring next season.”
Troy nodded. “And I’m still playing ball.” He sighed, stood up, and stuck out his hand. “It’s been an honor and a pleasure playing for you, Shep.”
“Likewise, Troy.” They shook hands. “And who knows, maybe you’ll find a movie star or two to keep you company.”
Troy shook his head. “Business first. Then movie stars.”
Troy grabbed his bag from the overhead bin and headed out the door to the jetway.
Scott called him the night before he left Chicago and assured him he could stay with him until Troy found a place.
He and Scott were drafted together, came up through the league together and hoped to play together, hopefully in New York.
Then Scott got traded to Los Angeles and he to Chicago.
They still kept in touch and would visit each other in the off season.
Shannon and the girls would meet up with him in two weeks, when they returned from visiting family in Florida.
They offered him a room in their place, but Scott still felt uncomfortable sharing a house with his ex.
Even though the split was amicable, he still felt like he’d failed their marriage.
For a long time, he felt a sharp blow to his masculinity when his wife told him she was a lesbian.
At the time, all he internalized was that he wasn’t man enough to keep her.
So, for the years following their divorce, he was a self-admitted whore.
It wasn’t until his daughters asked about the pretty lady looking for her chonis while he was pouring their cereal, and he couldn’t remember her name that he realized he had a problem.
Therapy eventually helped him get over the feeling of inadequacy and still let them maintain a friendly co-parenting relationship.
He still enjoyed the cleat chasers, but decided to be more discrete.
Scott was waiting for him at the end of the ramp, holding up a sign reading “Your sister’s fine, the tests were inconclusive.” Troy smiled widely as he shook his head.
“You motherfucker,” Troy mumbled as he pulled Scott into a one-armed man hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, asshole.” They pounded each other on the back a few more times before heading to baggage claim. Grabbing two suitcases, Scott asked, “Is that it?”
“Yeah,” Troy replied. “I’m having the rest of it shipped out once I find a place.”
Scott nodded. “Makes sense.” They headed to his Escalade and loaded the back. “There’s no real rush for that, man. I got plenty of room in the house. My sister lives in my pool house while she’s finishing school.”
“Bri’s still in school?” Troy remembered Scott’s sister, Sabrina, as a senior in high school when he and Scott were drafted. “Did she flunk out or something?”
Scott shook his head and laughed. “She’s finishing her Ph. D in Biokinesiology.”
“Dr. Bri? You’re kidding?”
Scott puffed his chest out. “Dead serious, man. Mom and Dad are stupid proud of her.”
Troy smiled. “So is big brother…”
Scott nodded. “Hell yeah, I am! We’re finally getting a doctor in the family!”
“Speaking of which, where is she?”
“We’re gonna meet up with her tonight. We’ll take your stuff back to the house first and change for a night on the town and catch up with her after dinner.”
Dinner at Musso and Frank was an experience.
From the signature red jacketed servers to the perfect dirty martini, it was everything he’d expected and more.
While they waited in the bar, he swore he counted at least three television stars and two movie icons having dinner.
The wait staff was friendly and helpful, and the food was mouthwateringly good.
He always judged a restaurant by its steak, and this place passed with flying colors.
From there, Scott drove to a Hollywood hot spot. “In Hollywood, there’s always a party somewhere. Tonight, Bri’s expecting us.”
Troy’s agent told him to get out and get in the celebrity pages as soon as possible, so he quickly agreed.
Scott found the place: red velvet ropes at the entrance and a line around the building.
He handed the keys to the valet while Troy scoped out the line for ‘talent,’ smiling at the ladies and the photographers as he waited for Scott.
Loud house music was pumping out the doors as they approached the bouncer.
Scott pulled out a card and a fifty-dollar bill. “We’re special guests of the DJ.”
The bouncer, who could have doubled as a linebacker, took the card and pocketed the cash, then gave him a grin and lowered the red rope.
“She said she was expecting a few friends. She’s got a table reserved upstairs.
” Unlatching the rope, he nodded to one of the latex-clad hostesses, who sauntered over to them.
“Bri’s guests.” The server sized them up with a smile before leading them upstairs to a booth overlooking the dance floor.
The club was off the chain, with dozens of beautiful people undulating on the dance floor.
The smell of alcohol and mixed perfumes and body heat permeated the air.
The beat of the music was hypnotic, pulsing through the air, into the chairs and tables, to the point Troy felt it vibrating through his body.
He started moving to the beat without thinking, while Scott chatted with Angela, the server who was setting up bottle service.
“Grey Goose, courtesy of DJ Bumble.” She poured out two vodka martinis, sliding their glasses across the table.
While rum was his spirit of choice, Troy had a particular affection for vodka martinis, so he drank the first one with relish.
The warmth spread through his chest, and he smiled at the server, handing his glass back for a second drink.
“When’s your sister getting here?” Troy asked.
Scott laughed. “She’s already here.” Then gesturing across the dance floor, he waved to the DJ, who looked up, smiled and waved back.
“Bri’s the DJ?” he said, sipping his drink. “I thought you said she’s in school.”
“She says this is stress relief.” Scott bopped his head to the music, watching a bachelorette party make a small circle on the dance floor as Funkadelic started to pump out of the speakers.
Troy followed his gaze and toasted the ladies as they wiggled their way around the floor, blowing kisses to them.
They returned the sentiment, toasting the bride, and didn’t notice a woman in a yellow and black bodysuit making her way up to their booth.
She wrapped her arms around both their waists as she slid in between them to lean on the rail.
“You guys made it!” Bri squealed, hugging her brother first, then Troy. “I’ve got about five minutes before the crowd gets grumpy, but I wanted to come over and make sure they’re taking good care of you.” She turned back to Angela, “Are they giving you a bad time?”
“Not at all,” she replied, shaking up another set of martinis. “What can I get you?”
“Soda for now,” Bri sighed. “I’m spinning for another few hours.” Taking the glass from Angela, she swallowed down about half of it, paused, then gave up a massive burp. Scott and Angela just laughed, while Troy looked half-astonished, half-impressed.
“Damn, girl, you would put some of the boys in the clubhouse to shame!” he exclaimed.