On our second day in Athens, I drop my girls off at Adrian’s for a playdate while I visit Winston at his theater. He meets me at the door, locks it behind us, and guides me to his office. As I sit, I remind him that after spending most of yesterday in Kansas City, I want to hurry back to Madison and Liberty.
“I’ll get right to it then,” Winston agrees. “I’ve found another opportunity I thought you might be interested in. Your investment in the theaters proved profitable for us both, and I think this will be the same.”
Since I’ve invested in his theaters, the improvements Winston has carried out have led to a rise in ticket and concession sales. I invested to help my friend; I wasn’t sure I’d see any profits. It was a nice surprise when the theaters began showing me returns on my investment. I wonder if Winston plans to add on more theaters, build a restaurant, or upgrade to online ticketing.
He slides a real estate listing across the desktop to me. “The public golf course is for sale,” he announces, excitement lighting his entire face. “Memberships are down, and it needs upgrades to the clubhouse and outbuildings. The course itself is in great shape; they have a fantastic groundskeeper who knows his stuff.”
I’m shocked by the price—it’s much lower than I anticipated. “This price includes everything?” I ask, pointing at the figure.
Winston nods excitedly. “I was thinking we could split it. It’s a bargain. We could make some improvements, increase the number of memberships, and turn a profit in a couple of years.”
“We should investigate the membership numbers over the past 10 years. I get that the numbers are down, but I would like to see how far they’ve fallen,” I suggest, liking the idea more by the minute. “Perhaps we could do a membership survey as new owners to prioritize the improvements based on our customer’s thoughts.”
“So, you’re in?” Winston asks.
“I’m interested,” I inform him.
Winston tilts his head.
“Very interested,” I explain. “Can you reach out to the realtor to request the financials and membership information? Hopefully it’s digital, and we can review it this week while I’m in town. I’ll get my guy working on it from his end… he may be able to get more information than they will share with the two of us.”
Winston stands, extending his hand across the desk to me. Driving back to Adrian’s, I’m excited to have another income opportunity in Athens.
On day three in Athens, we make the short trip to visit Salem and Latham. Liberty pouts the entire way as we wouldn’t let her ride in the back of the truck. Madison started something there.
While Salem offers to give Madison a tour of the house, I motion to Latham, and we head outside to tour the farm. They’ve made many improvements since we asked them to move to Madison’s parents’ farm and take care of it for us. I knew it was a great idea, but I never imagined just how much they would accomplish in eight months. It’s especially surprising since they welcomed their first child, Quincy, in May of this year.
“I believe we are ready to purchase cattle and a couple of hogs to get us started,” Latham shares.
“Have you run out of things to do?” I tease.
“Actually, yes,” he states, serious. “There are still a few little things here and there, but I don’t have enough to fill my days.”
“Mom says you’ve spent a couple of days each week helping her. Do you think you can continue that if we buy livestock?” I lean my forearms on the metal gate while I place one boot on the bottom rung.
“I see no reason why not.” Latham joins me at the gate.
“Okay. Start attending livestock auctions.” I pat him on the back. “I love everything you’ve done so far, so there’s no reason to stop now.”
My eyes drift across the road to the open pasture on my mom’s land. “Could you see a house right there?” I ask, pointing.
“It’s a great spot,” Latham agrees. “Wait. Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
I keep my eyes on the area I’ve dreamed of building on since my teens. Many times, while sitting at the cemetery, I’d stare at Madison’s farm and the flat pasture area between the two. On the backside, the pasture slopes toward creek bordered by trees. It’s a great setting for a house.
Answering Latham’s question, I admit, “It’s just a dream. I haven’t even shared it with Madison.” I smile at him. “Just thinking of the future. I wouldn’t even know where to find a construction company capable of building an entire home.”
Always helpful, Latham informs me, “Troy moonlights with a couple construction companies in Athens. You should ask him.”
I make a mental note to chat with Troy. Standing here, daydreaming, does me no good. I turn from the gate to face the house. “I think I’ve let Madison hold Quincy long enough. Let’s go inside so I can take my turn.”
On our last morning in Athens, Liberty and I descend the stairs to find Mom fixing a large breakfast. The scent of bacon hangs heavily in the air as Mom pours batter onto the griddle.
“I’m making pancakes,” Mom sings as we move beside her.
“Why are there five places at the table?” I ask, sharing a piece of bacon with Liberty.
“Amy should be here any minute,” Mom states matter-of-factly.
I know there’s no way Mom called Amy this morning to set this up. Amy wouldn’t have answered her phone. That means they planned this yesterday and didn’t tell us. I hoped Madison could sleep late since we have a long trip back to Chicago this afternoon.
“I better go wake Madison,” I complain.
“Let her sleep,” Mom urges.
“She won’t be happy if she comes down in an hour or two and we’ve spent the morning visiting without her,” I argue before I climb the stairs two at a time.
An hour later, the five of us still sit around the table, our empty plates in front of us. Madison cleared Liberty’s tray and placed a few toys on it to entertain her. I wonder if other two-year-olds would entertain themselves for this long in a highchair. The guilt of cooping her up in a car for six hours later today eats at me. She needs to run around while she can.
I extricate her from the tray and buckled belt, lowering her to the floor, allowing her escape. Immediately, she heads to the front room and all of her toys. Unfortunately, my mom decides to rid up the table once I get up. That was not my intention; I enjoy visiting at the table. It’s rare that I get to slow down and relax like this.
I lean next to Mom at the sink while she rinses syrup off a couple plates. I pause. Her eyes are closed, and she’s attempting to pull in long, calming breaths. I place my hand on her back, and her eyes fly open.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, fear rising in my throat.
“I just stood too fast,” she states.
It’s possible, but I still worry. It doesn’t escape me that she’s getting older and health concerns will begin to pop up. It kills me that she lives here, so far from town, all on her own. Amy keeps busy five days a week with her job, and she’s on the other side of the county. If anything happens, it’s too far away. Mom doesn’t always take her cell phone with her when she works outside. If something happened out in the pasture, it could be hours if not a day before someone found her.
With that thought, a heavy weight settles in my stomach. Chicago is far away, and I’m too busy during baseball season to keep an eye on her. Even if I tried to FaceTime her every day, I wouldn’t know if something was wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to get her help.
“Amy,” I call across the kitchen, “let’s take a walk.”
All eyes look to me, concerned about my abrupt request. I plaster on a smile as I walk towards the door. It’s all I can muster as my emotions continue to skyrocket. As soon as the door closes, I motion for Amy to sit on the porch swing.
“Have you noticed any changes in Mom’s health?” I blurt, unable to keep it in any longer.
Amy simply shakes her head. That’s not going to do it. I need her to talk honestly with me.
“Just now, she stood at the kitchen sink with her eyes closed, breathing funny,” I inform Amy. I can’t sit here; I feel like I’m about to lose it. I need to pace. “She claims she just stood up too fast, but all the color left her face.”
Amy swings back and forth, taking in my words. “I haven’t noticed anything. Maybe she’s tired from your visit. It’s all she spoke about for weeks.”
I nod, but I still think something is going on. “I’m too far away and too busy to know what’s going on. She’s getting older, and she’ll need our help more. I feel like my hands are tied for eight months of the year.” I’m rambling, yet I feel like I can’t express what I really want to say.
“We’re together at least once a week, and we talk on the phone all the time,” Amy reminds me.
“Do you think she’d tell you if she didn’t feel good or was having strange symptoms?” I need to know we have a failsafe plan in place.
“She’s a grown woman; she’s capable of caring for herself,” Amy states, unaffected.
“So, if she always felt tired, had trouble catching her breath at times, and takes a nap every day, do you think she’d mention it to you?” I counter. I’m growing frustrated by my sister’s apparent lack of concern.
“Of course,” Amy exclaims, offended.
“Well, for the last four days, that’s the way it’s been,” I inform her, my hands at my hips. “She napped when Liberty and Madison laid down. In fact, she slept longer than they did each afternoon.”
Amy furrows her brow, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, no longer swinging.
“Madison told me that on their treasure hunt, Mom rested often and constantly lost her breath. They didn’t do anything strenuous. I mean, Madison is six months pregnant, so you know they took it easy.” I try to control my anger and fear. “I just wonder how long she’s been like this, and what could be going on.”
“Fuck!” Amy shouts, throwing her arms in the air. She fists her fingers in her hair in frustration.
Now, she seems to be on the same page with me. Welcome to my world. Fear sucks. “We need a plan,” I inform her.
She stares at the barn for several long moments before suggesting, “I need to spend at least one of my days off each week with her. I usually come on a workday with the twins, and, of course, all of my attention is on them.”
“Okay. So, one day a week, it will be just you and Mom,” I repeat. “What else?”
“Well, all I can do is pay more attention to her when I’m with her,” Amy states. “I’m not a nurse, so I can’t diagnose or anything.”
Madison joins us on the porch. She wraps her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest. Immediately, my body and mind calms. She’s a soothing balm.
“So, what’s your little pow-wow about?” she pries.
Amy promptly fills her in.
Then, my amazing wife suggests, “We could ask Latham to bring Salem over once in a while, maybe on her day off while he works. They could invite her to dinner, too. Salem’s a nurse; she could help us keep an eye out for any symptoms to be concerned about.”
Amy smiles. “Do you think Salem would mind helping us?”
Madison pulls out her phone to call. Moments later, when she hangs up, she simply states, “It’s done. Salem works tomorrow, but said she’d ride over with Latham the next day. She’ll play it cool, so Memphis won’t suspect a thing.”
“Thank you, babe.” I smile before placing a long, wet kiss upon her lips. I love this woman more every single day.
The ride to Chicago seems longer than the drive down to Athens. We strategically planned it for Liberty’s nap time, so she quickly falls asleep. Madison struggles to find a comfortable position. I’m sure it will only get worse during the last three months of her pregnancy. I make the decision that this should be her last trip to Athens. It can’t be good for her or the baby to sit so long in the car. I’m sure she’ll fight me on it, but it’s really what’s best for her and the baby.
My mind replays our entire visit as mile after mile passes. I love that we shared our memories of the cemetery and other places around Athens during the treasure hunt with Liberty. I loved my childhood and want the same for my daughter. While I loved my time at the two baseball scouting events, analyzing talent and learning about the business side of baseball, I wish I could have been on the treasure hunt with my girls. Madison sent me several photos, and, while I appreciate them, I would have rather been there, sharing stories with our daughter.
With Foster’s expertise, the paperwork to purchase the golf course with Winston is currently processing. I smile, remembering Madison’s excitement when I shared Winston’s proposal about the course. Although she doesn’t enjoy learning every step or detail, she does like weighing in on investments and hearing how I plan to diversify our portfolio. Sometimes, she fakes interest, but I could tell she really liked the idea of owning the golf course.
I still haven’t shared my dream of building a house on the farm with my wife. Mom and I talked about it for over an hour, and I asked her to keep it close to the vest until Madison has the baby. With her pregnancy hormones, I’m not sure how she will react to my idea. I set a few things in motion, but after the scare with Mom’s health, I think I might consider starting construction sooner rather than later. In order to start construction, I’ll have to talk to Madison. I make a mental note to chat with Mom about the best way to bring it up with her.