The Man Without a Home

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She knew that this had been a pleasant evening for the two of them. She had waited long for just such a moment so that she could properly say what was in her heart to this man, her husband. This restaurant in this strange city and this good evening was a good time to say it, because after tomorrow it would be too late.

Lew looked relaxed and fit. As other husbands might be complacent with sales made, or contracts written, or production goals achieved, big Lew Sikas was content with performance as reported in mystic figures — batting average of .313 for the season thus far, twenty-seven home runs, ninety-four runs batted in.

It was his work, and they lived with it, and when things went well for him they were both happier. He had a rare three-day break, and they had come to this city on the business matter she dreaded. On Thursday he would rejoin the team in New York for a three-game series against a team with weak pitching.

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