Chapter 1: In the Beginning

July 1973

It didn't matter that she wasn't pretty. He had been watching her watching him. He knew what that was all about.

It was Hildy Wertz, the lobby receptionist at the Operations Center of the utility company where Jim worked his summer job while he was in college. He knew her well enough to say 'hello' and that was about it. Sometimes, after showering but before actual quitting time, the summer college workers would gather in the lobby to pass the time, because leaving before exactly six was strictly against the rules.

Hildy would be at the reception desk and trade cheerful banter with them. It was kind of nice to see her then because digging up gas lines every summer day was hot, dirty work. The lobby was air-conditioned and Hildy always wore a smile on her face.

Her hair was blonde—blonder-than-blonde—which was too bad because it seemed to Jim that a prettier girl could have made better use of it. It was difficult for him to put his finger on the problem, but her face just didn't have that look that made guys put her at the tops of their lists—or even in the top halves.

Her face was somewhat round, but sat atop a long, thin neck and her body was long and lean and the fit just didn't seem right. She had a broad smile that she would use to try to make you happy, but her lips were thin and not quite sensuous enough to be the stuff of dreams. Maybe her smile was too broad.

Jim would have preferred that it could have been Kathy Mangano giving him the eye, that cute little brunette college girl who had a summer job working in the map room. But, he had made his play for her and been rebuffed just as he thought he was getting to First Base.

It promised to be a long summer in Jim Connolly's hometown of Rochester, that mid-sized, mid-American style city on the Great Lakes. Before long he would return to Campbell University, about a two-hour drive away.

And, speaking of baseball, he shook himself out of his daydreams with a reminder that he was on deck. It was the company slo-pitch league. The departments recruited their summer college help to fill out their teams, in deference to their better physical condition than the regular employees with the beer bellies. Jim played for the Gas Line Operations Department.

The count was one-and-one. Jim figured he had a minute or two left to finish off his analysis of the young woman behind the team bench who seemed to have trouble hiding her interest in him. She chatted with her friend, Darlene, as they watched the game. She could have stood behind the Electric Line Operations Department's team bench on the other side of the field, since her job as receptionist seemed to cover all departments. But she had chosen the Gas bench and Jim was certain he knew why.

"C'mon—batter-up!" Jim heard the umpire yell at him.

Jim had to shake himself awake once again and stepped into the batter's box.

"I'll show her something," he boasted to himself.

He lunged at the first offering from the pitcher and was lucky to make contact. The ball dribbled foul aside the third base line. It was a little embarrassing, but he had little time to think about that. The next pitch was on its way and he took it for a ball. He took a good cut at the next one.

"Double, at least, maybe a triple," he told himself as the ball launched itself off his bat.

But the spin on the ball carried it out of play deep down the right field line. The count was one-and-two.

"I'd better buckle down or I'll strike out. That would really show her something."

The pitcher lobbed an outside pitch, figuring to take advantage of the two-strike count. Jim was ready He reached out and lined a single over the second baseman.

"Not a triple, but not a strikeout, either," he said out loud as he rested his foot on the bag.

"How come you college guys are always talkin' to yourself?" the First Baseman asked. "I thought you guys went to college to learn something."

Jim didn't answer, but checked to see if Hildy was still watching him, and she was.

Another thing abut Hildy was that she was really tall—probably just over six feet. So, added to her homeliness, her height would probably prevent her from getting a lot of dates. In fact, Jim reckoned that she would tower over him by at least two inches, more if she wore heels. Still, those long, slender legs descending from the hot pants she wore made a heck of a statement, and those hot pants seemed to fit just right. It was another of Hildy's notable attributes that was easy to miss because he usually saw her sitting down at her reception desk in the lobby.

The next batter popped up for the third out. Jim trotted to the bench to retrieve his glove, and she was still watching him. As he made his way to right field he continued to mull over the prospects.

"It wouldn't be any big commitment—just a few dates for the summer."

He watched the shortstop field a pop-up. There was one away.

He thought about it for a minute and began to form some plans.

"She could help me get rid of my problem."

His problem, as he saw it, was his 'lack of adequate experience with the female sex', which was his own euphemism for not ever having had sex. He was determined to change that. At the age of twenty-two and just a single year left before his degree it seemed like the right thing to do.

He knew why he had the problem. Girls wanted relationships and attention as a prerequisite to problem solving. That meant money and time away from studies and sports and friends. It seemed like too high a price. He had been close a few times. There had been a few occasions when Jim might have been willing to take the relationship plunge. It seemed, however, that whenever he was willing things didn't seem to work out.

"I'll get Hildy to help me out and then I'll be ready to go when school starts up. I've waited too long already."

He looked back into the infield and saw his teammates trotting off. He must have missed the final two outs of the game.

As he loped off the field he glanced at the bench area and found Hildy. She wasn't looking to make a fast getaway with Darlene. It was time to put a plan into action.

"Hi, Hildy. We're going to Clancy's for a few beers after the game," he said to her as he picked up his baseball glove and began changing from his cleats to shoes."

"Oh," Hildy replied, "are you asking us to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Jim answered, and then cleared his throat. "You, too, Darlene"

The two young women looked at each other and didn't answer.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. I'm buying"

"I've got to get home," Darlene spoke up. "Give me a rain check."

Jim shrugged.

"I'll see you in the morning, Hildy," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the parking lot about a hundred yards away.

"Well, how about it?" Jim asked Hildy again.

Hildy's gaze trailed after Darlene, but then she turned and looked at Jim.

"Sure, I suppose so," she said, "just for a little while."

"We can go in my car." Jim offered. "The parking lot at Clancy's is a nightmare. I'll bring you back later and you can pick up your car."

With that they started walking together to the parking lot. The other guys on the team were already on their way. The regular company guys had girlfriends or wives on their arms.

Jim fumbled with his keys for a second and then opened the passenger door for Hildy. He tossed his equipment on the floor of the back seat on the passenger's side. It was a good way to take on the role of the gentleman, while preserving the ability to deny it, if necessary.

He owned a beat up, red, Plymouth wagon. At college they called it the 'Rustmobile'. It didn't bother him because it was his, paid for from savings, his first car. It got him from place to place and now it would get him and Hildy to Clancy's.

"Nice car," Hildy said as Jim climbed behind the steering wheel.

"Well, it's mine. I know it's not much but it'll get me by until I can afford something better."

"No—I meant it," Hildy laughed. "It's nice ... and roomy."

She said it like she didn't care what the car looked like and that made Jim laugh along with her.

"Natural air conditioning in a few places, too," Jim countered.

They laughed again.

He was waiting to pull into traffic from the parking lot.

"I hope I didn't hurt Darlene's feelings," Jim offered. "I meant that she should come along too."

"That's okay. We talked about it ahead of time. We knew you were going to ask."

"Knew I was going to ask? How could you have known that?" he demanded.

"We saw you looking at us while you were playing Right Field," she laughed again.

She was right, of course. He could have countered that he'd seen her giving him the eye all night. He decided to keep that to himself?

"And so you two flipped a coin to see who would bow out and who would go to Clancy's with me?"

Hildy paused for a moment.

"A girl can only divulge so much," she answered, "and I've already told you that we knew you were going to ask."

"Point-counterpoint."

A number of players from the team, complete with wives and girlfriends, were already inside the barroom, wedging through the crowd to order their beers. At least the regular company guys were there. The college guys who played on the team usually went somewhere else, but Jim preferred to go to Clancy's.

"Jim, do you need a beer?" Eddy shouted at him over the din.

Eddy was the Third Baseman and had already made his way to the bar rail. His wife stood off to the side. They were about thirty.

"I need two," Jim yelled back and then pointed to Hildy.

Eddy nodded and turned back to speak to the bar tender. Jim and Hildy made their way over to where Eddy's wife was waiting.

"Hi, Patti, this is Hildy."

Patty gave a faint smile, not her usual manner. She was usually happy to see Jim when he was alone and she was always nice to him. Jim didn't understand the chill.

"Maybe she has a headache."

But he noticed that she and Hildy weren't striking up a conversation. Just then, Eddy showed up with a tray full of beers. Eddy said 'hello' to Hildy, whom he already knew, and then the two men traded a few laughs over the game just played.