Page 54 of My So-Called Perfect Life
“Not to bring him up”—he pauses a moment—“but your ex never took you to a baseball game? Not even once?”
I shake my head. “Scott wasn’t into sports.”
He smiles wide. “Well, I love sports. Especially baseball. It’s my favorite. I love the Dodgers.”
“Yeah”—I laugh—“I kind of got that vibe.”
We walk hand in hand a few blocks to the subway station while Ryan explains the fundamentals of a great baseball experience.
“Hot dogs, beer, a beautiful summer day. Got it. Do I get a foam finger too?”
His giant smile is infectious. “If you really want one!”
The platform is full of eager baseball fans as we wait for the train. The cars are already pretty full when the train pulls in, so the forty or fifty people waiting all crowd on. We find a small open spot in the back corner of a car. Ryan positions himself behind me, leaning back against the wall, and pulls me into his body, shielding me from everyone around us.
We chat quietly as the train pulls through the stops.
“Tell me about the photos in your office?” I ask looking up at him. “About all your adventurous hobbies.”
His pupils dilate slightly, a glitter in the middle the black surrounded by blue. “It started in high school. I went away with friends to Colorado for New Year’s. It was the first time I went skiing. It was love at first slope. It kind of escalated from there.”
“Skiing turned into zipping through the tops of jungles?”
His chest rumbles under my hand as he laughs. “It was actually the feeling I got coming down the mountain. I accidentally took an advanced trail instead of the beginner one. My friends thought it was a hilarious joke to play on the newbie. The adrenaline coursing through my system as I flew down that slope was a rush. It was freeing and cleared my mind. You see, I was stressing about college acceptances and as I was flying down that mountain, my mind was finally quiet. Nothing but me and the snow and what laid before us. There’s no feeling like it.”
I can’t help but laugh nervously. “That sounds crazy. My mind would definitely not have been quiet. I would have been picturing the thousands of ways I could die!”
“People get hurt crossing the street. I don’t let fear hold me back,” he replies. “That’s not to say there weren’t moments when I was cursing my asshole friends, but I was too consumed by the rush to think about anything.”
“Danger man,” I giggle. “So where does baseball fit in? Next to golf, it seems like the most boring –”
He holds up a finger. “Hey now! Baseball is not boring.”
I wince at my mistake. “Sorry. Boring isn’t the right word. How about slow paced. I would have figured you for a hockey or football or rugby guy. Something with more bloodshed.”
“Well, when I was about five,” he begins. “My father came home from work with a pack of tickets for the game that weekend. My dad worked a ton of hours when we were growing up. When he wasn’t working, he was working around the house, or doing stuff for my grandparents. The man never sat still. We didn’t spend a ton of time together. But when we’d go to a baseball game, I got him for nine solid innings. He showed me how to keep score and taught me about all the different kinds of pitches. I was hooked.”
He tells the story with such fondness. It’s clear that he really cherishes that day with his family.
“So, it’s just you and your sister?” I ask.
“Yep, just the two of us,” he answers. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“One sister,” I reply. “You actually met her already. The night we are never going to speak about again.”
He chuckles. “I thought the two of you looked related, but you never know. I had two friends growing up who looked like they could be brothers but weren’t.”
A warmth fills my chest. Everything about this feels right. His arms wrapped around me. Getting to know each other. Starting fresh and forgetting our awful beginning. I’m pretty sure most men wouldn’t have been as easygoing and casual about needing antibiotics thanks to me, let alone spend a week trying to get me to go out with them.
I like this.
And I think I really like him.
* * *
“You can’t tellme that’s not the best hot dog you’ve ever had.” Ryan watches me as I take another bite of the hot dog we just got after the end of the previous inning.
Who would’ve thought I’d find a man staring at me while I chew adorable?
