Page 35 of The Beat of My Heart
Julia
Grace Juliette? Grace freaking Juliette? Coincidence, Jules, that’s all. Just because your name is Julia Grace, it doesn’t mean anything!I scold myself, thankfully able to keep these words in my head.
“Angel?” Charlie's voice makes me jump. Shit, I must have spaced out in my thoughts.
“What? Sorry, what did you say?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.
“Yup, totally. You ready? We need to get to our seats, Chris Sale’s is pitching tonight, and he has been on fire! I need to watch his warm-ups to see how the game will go,” I tell him. “Plus, Christian Vazquez is catching, I love catchers.”
Chuckling, he grabs my empty beer glass, setting it on the table beside him, and takes my hand, “Lead the way, Angel.”
Walking through Fenway is like coming home. A home that thousands of people consider theirs. “Are you hungry?” I ask Charlie.
“Always,” he says, but his eyes stay locked firmly on my lips and I shudder.
Pulling myself together, I drag him through the throngs of people. “One more stop then,” I tell him. “You have to meet the Sausage Guy.”
Charlie laughs but follows along. Walking up to George, I give the big sweaty guy a fist bump.
“Babycakes, long time no see,” he says. He is the epitome of Boston, and I love it. “What can I get you?”
“Two please, loaded,” I tell him. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my money, but Charlie places a hand over mine.
“I don’t think so, Angel. You got away with buying the beers because you didn’t give me another choice, but I’m paying from here on out,” Charlie whispers in my ear.
Handing George the money, he takes the two sausages in one hand and offers his free one to me. Placing my hand in his right now seems different, but I don’t know how or why. Trying to shake off this feeling, I pull him into the underbelly of Fenway.
Finding our seats is easy, I know this place like the back of my hand. “We can get settled, then I can run up and grab us a couple of beers. They just started selling Sip of Sunshine, it’s a beer from Vermont. If you like IPAs, this will be your new favorite,” I tell him with confidence. “I don’t know how they do it, but it is the best IPA you’ll ever have.”
“You surprise me at every turn, Angel,” he tells me in what seems like reverence. “Sit your cute little butt down and try not to get thrown out before the game starts. I’ll run up and grab the beers.”
I watch as he leans in and kisses me quickly, then makes his way back up the concrete steps toward concessions. How did I end up here with this man? I’ve never seen a more attractive man in my life.
Sitting back, I take in my stadium. The Green Monster across from me, Pesky Pole, even the Citgo sign, are all reminiscent of happy times. I wonder how many people here see these things and have the sense of nostalgia I’m having right now.
Scanning the crowd, I take in the smiling faces of everyone around me. Children and adults alike. All here for America’s pastime in one of the most iconic stadiums in the world. I’m relaxing into my surroundings when my eyes land on ones so familiar, yet so cold, I immediately go stiff.Whiskey and fireflies, Charlie had said, and that is what is staring straight at me. Charlie’s eyes in the face of a much older, angrier looking man.
“Jules, Jules!” I hear my name being called. Looking around, I spot Reggie standing by the dugout.
Jumping out of my seat, I take the step forward to lean over the railing. “Reggie!” I scream. Reggie has been a friend of my dad’s for years. Before I was born, Reggie was a client at my parent's law firm. Over the years, he and my dad have formed the most unlikely of friendships.
Reaching up, Reggie pulls me into a hug. “Hey there, Babycakes, how are you?”
“I’m good, Reg. How are you? How’s MaryAnne?” I ask. His wife, MaryAnne, has been going through cancer treatments at Brigham and Woman’s Hospital.
“Oh, you know her. She is good, giving the doctors hell,” he tells me, smiling. Looking past me, he says, “A friend of yours?”
Righting myself, I turn to see Charlie standing a few feet away with a scowl on his face. I can’t help but grin at the look of jealousy he is wearing.
“Yup, that’s Charlie,” I tell my friend. “I should get back. Please tell MaryAnne I said hello. My mom wants to come down next month to check on her too.”
“That would be great, Babycakes. We sure miss you guys,” he tells me with a wink. “Please don’t make me throw you out of here tonight, huh?”
“Don’t make any terrible calls, and we’ll be just fine,” I tell him, only partially joking. Friend or not, I am not messing around with my Sox.
“I’ll do my best, Babycakes. Good to see you, hun.”
