Sammy and Gabe found Corey at a table in the back of the hotel ballroom, looking at the plaque he had just received for making the all-tournament team. They wasted no time teasing him unmercifully.
“Shine that up for you, Mr. Maduro, sir?” Sammy said, grabbing a napkin and pretending to buff the plaque.
“And will you be signing autographs later, Mr. Maduro?” Gabe said. “All your fans want to know. Lines will be long, but don’t worry, we’ll have extra security on hand. In fact, they’re setting up the velvet ropes right now.”
“Four hits, three doubles, four RBIs—you were brilliant, sir!” Sammy gushed. “Absolutely brilliant!”
“And don’t forget the catch against the Indians!” Gabe said. “It’s already immortalized on SportsCenter as one of the greatest defensive plays of all time.”
Corey grinned sheepishly. “Apparently whoever voted on these awards forgot about that little adventure I had in the ivy,” he said. “The one that cost us the game against the Blue Jays.”
“Oh, that wasn’t really your fault, Corey,” a voice said.
They turned to see Katelyn plop down at the table, carrying her own all-tournament plaque. Corey’s grin got wider.
He was happy for Katelyn. No one deserved a plaque more than she did for the “called-shot” grand slam that beat the Indians. Not to mention that strategic little mind game she played with Kyle VanderMeer that led to the walk, and the steal that led to the winning run against the Red Sox.
“No,” she continued, “that ivy was so thick it should have been illegal. If the ivy’s like that in the real Wrigley Field, they should burn it all down. And how could anyone know there was a board with a nail back there? You were lucky you didn’t slice your hand open trying to get that ball.”
She sighed and a dreamy look came over her. “You were so brave trying to make that play!” she said. “And there I was, saying all those nasty things to you. I was just the most awful person! Can you ever forgive me?”
As Corey’s cheeks turned crimson, Sammy and Gabe looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“Oh…my…God!” Sammy murmured. “This is so making me ill.”
Just then, to Corey’s great relief, his dad appeared at his side.
“Take a walk with your old man?” Joe Maduro asked, smiling. Then to the others: “Can I steal this superstar away from you for a few minutes?”
Corey nodded and practically bolted from the chair. “Here, hold on to this,” he said, handing Sammy the plaque and muttering, “Uh, Katelyn, I gotta go. Congrats on your award.”
Corey and his dad left the ballroom and strolled outside to the back patio. It was almost ten o’clock, and the moon was a big orange ball hanging low in the sky.
The weather forecast for the next day called for temperatures near a hundred degrees with sticky conditions. But right now a cool ocean breeze was beating back the humidity and making it one of the most pleasant nights of their stay.
“We haven’t had a chance to talk,” his dad began. “Wow, buddy, you made all-tournament! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Corey said. “But I got a little lucky, too.”
“No, you didn’t,” his dad said. “You had a great week down here.”
He paused and swallowed hard. “I just want you to know I’m sorry. For everything.”
Corey nodded and squeezed his dad’s shoulder.
“That video,” his dad continued, shaking his head. “It just shocked me. To see me doing that stuff during your game…I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even talk about it. Couldn’t even look at you without feeling this tremendous guilt for letting you down.”
Corey said nothing. He stared out into the darkness, sensing his dad had more to say.
“I don’t know when I started taking your games so seriously,” Joe Maduro went on. “Maybe it was right around the time your mom got sick. I was so worried about her. Your games took my mind off her for a couple of hours. I guess that’s why they became so important to me.”
Yeah, the same thing happened to me, Corey admitted silently.
“I just wanted you to do well. And I got too wrapped up in it, became way too hard on you and the team and…” His voice trailed off. He shook his head, as if trying to clear away the bad memories. “Anyway,” he declared, “that’s over with.”
When he saw Corey’s skeptical expression, he added hastily, “Okay, I’ll try, at least. I wish I could guarantee that I’ll never act like a jerk again, but—”
“I know,” Corey interrupted gently. “There are no guarantees in life. You told me that when Mom died, remember?”
His dad nodded. “That’s right, I did say that.”
“You also said you were glad we had her for as long as we did, even though it was painful in the end,” Corey continued.
His dad kept nodding, but slowly now, as if unsure about where Corey was heading.
“Well,” Corey said, “even though this week was painful sometimes—and I mean really painful—I’m still glad you were here.”
His dad smiled gratefully, and Corey saw a tear roll down his cheek. “Thank you, buddy. Will you…will you give me one more chance? One more chance to be a better dad?”
How many times had Corey heard these words? A half dozen? More? But something in his dad’s face told him the man was serious this time. Something told him that after all these months, Joe Maduro finally got it.
“Sure, Dad,” he said, giving him a big hug. When they parted, his father looked like he might faint or cry or maybe do both.
Instead, Joe Maduro took a deep breath and said, “Okay, now I have to go back inside. Still have some unfinished business to take care of.”
“Unfinished business?” Corey said.
“Yeah,” his dad said. “I need to apologize to Coach for how I acted. And to the other parents. I spoke to some of them at the game. Spoke to a few of the others here right before the awards ceremony, too.”
Corey’s eyes widened. His dad was a proud man, not the type to readily admit he was wrong, especially to other adults he didn’t know well.
“How did that go?” Corey asked.
His dad shrugged. “Some of them were great about it,” he said. “Better than I deserved. Way better. Others didn’t want to hear it. They’re still royally pissed at me and they made that clear. Can’t say I blame them.”
He looked down at Corey with a sad smile. “But maybe someday they’ll see that I’ve changed. Maybe someday I can convince them I’m not a world-class jerk anymore.”
“Dad?” Corey said, looking up. “You convinced me.”
His dad hugged him again.
“Then I’m off to a great start,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”