Chapter 3

We won the game that night, 16-3, and the crowd went home happy. Why not? Tomorrow was a day off for almost everybody -- Independence Day! But not for the Bluefield Orioles. We'd be back here, at the same old stand, for an afternoon game.

At least we didn't play many doubleheaders anymore.

My players had headed for the concrete-block building that served as our locker room and shower, but I lagged behind to see if I could get another look at Orlie Martinez. I was peeking around the edge of the dugout from inside when she caught me at it.

Maybe she'd been peeking at me.

Martinez the Elder gave me a big smile and I instantly smiled back and came out from behind the protection of the dugout. The three of them -- Orlie, Maria and Whatzername -- were coming down the outer stairway that brought spectators down to ground level, just behind the dugout.

I met them there, with a three-foot high wire fence separating us. "You've got a lovely daughter, Ms. Martinez," I said. Not particularly inspired, but a decent opener, I thought.

"Thank you, Mr. Warren!" she replied. "And you've got a lovely ball club, there! We haven't been this good in five years!"

That was news to me. The Bluefield club's recent history wasn't something I'd studied. In the minors, every year is pretty much brand-new.

"We were pretty impressive tonight," I agreed.

"It was fun!" Maria said. "Mama, can we come again tomorrow?"

"I don't think so, Maria," Orlie said. "It's a holiday, and we're going to be busy cooking."

"But Mama, Gloria said she was going to cook tomorrow!"

"Yes, but Gloria doesn't need to stand over a hot stove without anybody to talk to!" Orlie said.

I decided to grab el toro by los cuernos, as my left fielder, Ramon Lopez, might have said it. "Why don't all three of you beautiful ladies come to tomorrow's game as my guests?" I said. "And instead of cooking, allow me to take you to dinner afterward."

My mind ran quickly through the gustatory choices available in Beautiful Downtown Bluefield. We had all the usual fast-food places. There was a Mexican restaurant, but it seemed kinda presumptuous to invite three Mexican-American women to a West Virginia ethnic eatery.

That left the K & W Cafeteria -- decent but unimpressive, or perhaps -- of course! The Lotus Garden! Ethnic was OK, if it wasn't their ethnicity, or my own! We'd go Chinese!

The three of them were looking at each other, trying to determine how to respond to my unexpected offer. I decided to help. "The Lotus Garden!" I said. "What would be better, than a Chinese dinner to celebrate Independence Day?"

"I like that place," Maria offered.

"No cooking tomorrow -- baseball solomente!" I urged.

"OK by me," Gloria said. "The cooking will always be there the next day."

We all focused on Orlie. It was clear to me that she was leader of this little clan. God, she was pretty!

"You must have really been charmed by my daughter," she teased, giving me the full benefit of two dark, flashing eyes.

"She wanted my autograph, right next to Cal Ripken's" I explained. "That's pretty flattering company."

"I was a little girl -- smaller than Maria, even -- when I got his autograph," Orlie said.