Chapter 4-B

Hope Springs Eternal
by Al Tommervik

Hank’s spirits were buoyed by Yvette’s positive response. The day seemed a lot brighter with the prospect of her company in the evening.

He felt so much better he thought he’d take another crack at Margaret. He went up to the office for some privacy and called her.

Margaret looked at her phone in exasperation. She picked up and started right in. “Jee-sus Hank. Give it a rest! I don’t know more about Kate now than I did a couple of hours ago.”

“I know. I just wanted to set up a time to come out and retrieve my old keepsake rackets. I stored them in the crawl space above Kate’s closet.”

“Two things here, Hank. One, I don’t ever want you to set foot in this place again, hear me?  Two, you should have thought about your precious rackets when you left. Kate has them now.” Margaret’s sadistic glee at delivering this news was evident.

Hank was stunned. “Kate took them? What’s she doing with them?”

“Hopefully building a bonfire on the beach.” Margaret disconnected.

---

By the time Hank had finished two teaching sessions, the reality that Kate had his most treasured squash memorabilia had started to sink in. There was the racket he used in his first Nationals tourney. And the racket he used when he won one game off then world Number 1 Thierry Lincou, who had signed the racket after the match. Kate knew how much those rackets meant to him and she wouldn’t have destroyed them. Maybe, just maybe, there was some hope.

Now he had a lengthening agenda as he called around to other squash clubs -- looking for a new position, trying to find Pike as a source for former club members, and checking to see if Kate had played in any of them.

He had no luck reaching the head pros at other clubs during his first round of calls, but he became adept at leaving short, punchy messages. As he was leaving for lunch, his cell rang. “Hank, it’s Pete at Midtown Squash. Sad news. We’ll miss your facility. Sorry, all our courts are booked solid so we can’t add anyone right now, but I’ll keep you in mind if things change.

“Can’t believe you didn’t hear about Pike. I thought everyone on the East Coast knew the story by now. He’s quite the philanderer. The married women and career women took him in stride. But some of our younger, more romanticly inclined members believed him when he professed true love.

“When they compared notes and found his protestations of true love were bogus, they were furious and hatched up a sting. One of the girls went to Pike and demanded that he change his ways and marry her.”

Hank was incredulous. “She really wanted to marry him?”

“No, they were setting him up. He was kind of noncommittal so she threatened him, said something like ‘you have to provide for your child and I’ll sue to see that you do.’ “

Hank laughed. “That’s not Pike’s style the way I heard it.”

“Definitely not. He shined it on until a few days later when Matilde Estaing showed up. You may remember her, solid left-handed lob expert. She was high up at that big law firm that went belly up. She carried an official looking paper and a DNA swab kit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Setting up a paternity suit?”

“Right on! Pike was just coming off a court and told her he’d go get a shower and meet her in the lounge. That’s the last anyone ever saw of him. Left his gear in his locker. Can’t believe you hadn’t heard the story. Happened last Fall.”

---

No sooner had he disconnected when the cell went off again. “Hank? It’s Carter from the Village. Can’t help you with work or this Pike character, but your daughter was in a couple of times a few weeks ago. I thought I recognized her, but I didn’t make the connection until you called. She could be pretty good ... she’s got some of your moves ... but I wanna tell you, she attacks that ball with a fury!”

Hank’s heart leaped. “Tell me more. Who was she with?”

“I don’t remember the other players. Last time she was in, she met a guy while she was cooling off in the lounge. He wasn’t a player so I don’t know who he was or why he was there. Had an accent ... Australian or something. He had on a t-shirt for the All Blacks, whatever that is. Oh yeah, one other thing. Her rackets were top drawer, way better than the average player.”

“Thanks Carter. She had a falling out with her mother. Would you give me a call if she comes in again?”

“Sure thing. Good luck on that job hunt.”

All Blacks? That’s a New Zealand rugby team. Christ on a crutch, Hank thought. That’s all I need, Kate mixed up with Pike. At least Kate is using the rackets instead of burning them. That’s a good sign.

---

Hank’s thoughts turned to Yvette. Always cheerful, she was at ease around the guys, but didn’t seem too close to any of them. She could hold her own with the boys, even when the badinage and double entendres flew. She was well-liked by the women too. He’d asked her once about how she got along so well with the locker-room humor. She said she’d grown up with three older brothers who never spared her. “But it was done with affection and that makes the teasing OK.” Affection, now there's a word you probably won't find in Margaret’s dictionary.

Hank decided to tell Yvette about the breach with Kate. Yvette came from a close-knit family, so maybe she would be understanding and willing to help in the search for Kate. Because the search would revolve around squash clubs, it would dovetail with the search for former members to be invited to the farewell wake. Hank hoped she’d be willing to undertake both endeavors.

---

Jerry showed up before his 5 o’clock. “Saw your note. What’s up?”

“I’m bummed. It just seems to me that there’s no chance to stop the sale.”

“There’s a tired old saying, ‘A deal’s not a deal until it’s a deal.’ “

“Jerry, what the hell does that mean?”

“Think of it like a squash match. You’re down 11-2, 11-4 and you’re behind in the third game 10-4. What’re your chances?”

“Looks like I get swept.”

“But the thing about squash is that you haven’t lost until your opponent gets that eleventh point. So your adrenalin kicks in, your resolve stiffens and you hold him at bay. A loss isn’t a loss until it’s a loss. Got it?”

“Got it. There’s still hope.”

Jerry grinned. “You bet there is. Have time for a drink later?”

“Nope, Yvette and I are headed for McKeown’s and then to the Carnegie Club. She has her heart set on a cigar. I’m trying to shanghai her into helping with the reunion and farewell bash.”

Jerry fist-bumped Hank.”Scotch and cigars ... a real charmer. I’ll remember that the next time I’m trying to woo a lady.” He winked at Hank and left.




Al Tommervik is a journalist, tech writer, and pseudo-techie.


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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.