Page 77 of Love By The Falls

“Oh, my God,” says Anthony. “I think I’m gonna die.”

When we head back inside the box, Austin and Jane wait at one of the cocktail tables for us. Jane crosses her arms, but Austin’s holding a bear and eating pizza. “Caleb has invited us all to the players’ locker room after the game.”

“What?” asks Austin through a mouthful of pizza.

Jane raises an eyebrow, but Austin accepts exuberantly. “That’s awesome, dude. Thanks.”

“So, are you a manager with the team?” asks Jane.

“No.” Caleb doesn’t explain further, and Jane uncrosses and crosses her arms again. It’s a teacher move that she’s still waiting for an answer, but it’s not as effective on Caleb as it is with sixth graders.

I also wonder why Caleb doesn’t expand on his answer. Sage mentioned he was some sort of manager—an associate manager, or maybe a PR manager—I don’t recall exactly.

Besides, this isn’t the time for an interrogation,and he doesn’t owe us anything. He’s just trying to be nice.

“Would you like to stay and have something to eat with us?” asks Austin. “The food here’s pretty good.”

Caleb looks at his watch and his gaze drifts momentarily to my face. “I have to pop in and say hello to some other guests, but I’ll meet you back here after the game to walk you downstairs.”

“Sure.” My voice is lower than I intended, so I paste a smile onto my lips. “See you later.”

He nods, but holds my gaze before finally turning and walking away.

I avoid Jane’s stare as I’m not prepared to answer questions and sit next to Charlie to watch the rest of the game instead. But as soon as I sit, Charlie starts, “Who was that? Is he a baseball player? He looks tall and his hands are really big. I think he’s a player, but I don’t recognize him.”

“He wore a nice watch,” Anthony pipes in. “He’s definitely a player. We should look him up. What’s his name, Aunt Charlotte?”

“He’s not a player, at least I don’t know if he was before. Now, he’s, uh… I’m not really sure. But his name is Caleb Consuelos.”

“That sounds familiar. I think he was a player. Yeah, he was a player for sure.” The boys agree that Caleb is someone important. I’m starting to think they may beright and now this whole situation seems even more complicated than before.

Jane and Austin remain in the box while I sit with the boys for the next two hours. They have their heads together and they talk quietly. I shouldn’t think it’s about me, but the thought persists, and it makes me uncomfortable.

It's the last batter and the Lions are losing 2-1 against the Jets. It’s the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two out, and the stadium is on its feet. We need one run to tie, two to win, and Casey is still on the mound.

“What do we do, Mom? Do we cheer for Uncle Casey?”

“In this case, baby, we stay neutral.” The game rides on this last at bat, and I envy Casey’s calmness as my fingernails press into the palm of my hand.

The first pitch is a strike and the crowd boos. The Lions batter hits the dust from his shoes and sets up for the next pitch. That one’s a strike too, and the crowd erupts into louder jeering. “Come on, get a hit,” someone shouts across the aisle.

Casey takes his time, stepping off the mound, and fixing his cap, before getting into his pitching stance. He throws the next pitch.

The batter swings and launches the ball to center field.

The outfield runs back, back to the wall, but he has room. He easily makes the catch and salutes Casey at the mound.

The Jets win the game.

The stadium erupts into boos and angry shouts. “Bases loaded and we couldn’t drive one in!” someone shouts beside us.

Fans throw their drinks and wave their fists in frustration. A man’s voice carries over the boos. “Stay in the box until the crowd leaves.”

It’s Caleb.

I turn to look at him over my shoulder and he’s got his arms crossed and is glaring at anyone who looks our way. I guess they haven’t forgotten our earlier cheers for Casey.

Caleb’s blue suit stretches across his biceps and his white shirt is perfectly pressed, except for the top button, which is open. His tie is gone and a thin platinum chain peeks out from his exposed collar bone. His throat stretches as he glares across the aisles.

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