Page 62 of An Overdue Match
The drive should have felt long and tedious, but before I know it, Tai is pulling his car into a parking garage near Truist Park. People are making their way to the entrance, and we join the melee. The attendant scans the QR code on Tai’s phone for our tickets, and we push our way through the turnstile and into the stadium proper.
“Should we hit the concession stand now before the game starts or sometime between one of the innings?” Tai eyes a large box of Cracker Jack that one of the other spectators is holding.
Tai’s tough guy shell is hiding a five-year-old little boy at its center. It might as well be Christmas morning for the excitement buzzing off of him.
“I think the correct answer to that question is yes, both, and all of the above.”
He beams when he looks at me. “A woman after my own heart.”
He’s joking. I know he doesn’t mean anything by the words. It’s just a saying. I shouldn’t let myself read into it, but I’m overly sensitive today. Reflection and soul-searching will do that to a person. And now that I’ve started, it doesn’t seem that I can stop. Do Iwantto be a woman set after Tai Davis’s heart?
I blink and notice Tai is ten feet in front of me, beelining for a vendor. I hurry to catch up and arrive at his side at the same time he exchanges a crisp bill for two boxes of Cracker Jack.
Tai turns and holds out a box to me. “Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd,” he sings with a grin.
I roll my eyes as I grab the box, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he raises his brows expectantly.
“Isn’t this song saved for the seventh-inning stretch?” I donotwant to sing. Granny says I sound like a frog that’s just been stepped on any time I try to carry a tune.
Tai shakes the box and grins wider. He still has that five-year-old little boy look about him, and I find that I can’t disappoint a younger Tai.
“Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if I never get back.”
If I thought he’d been beaming at me before, then I don’t know what the look he’s directing at me now is. It radiates over me, casting me in a warm glow.
It’s joy, I finally settle on. And delight. Tai Davis delights in ... me.
He tugs me along, and we find our seats behind home plate. I try to get comfy in the pull-down plastic chair and count my blessings that at least they aren’t metal bleachers. The players from each team come onto the field and line up in front of their dugouts, hats over their hearts as a local musician sings the national anthem. “Play ball!” is shouted, and the crowd cheers.
I’ve never been much of a baseball fan, but I have to admit that seeing a game in person is a lot different than watching one on TV. There’s an energy to the crowd that’s hard to ignore, and I find myself cupping my hand over my mouth and yelling in protest along with other fans when a runner is called out when he was clearly safe. Well, it was clear to everyone who wanted him to get the run, anyway.
Tai grins at my enthusiasm. He pops a handful of caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts into his mouth. It’s the start of the fifth inning, and the Braves are jogging to take their places on the field.
“So, how’s the matchmaking been going? Anyone fall in love yet?” He smirks in my direction. Probably because he somehow knows no one has been cooperating with my plans.
I shake out some popcorn into a cupped hand. “Not yet, but I’m still working on it.”
“Not one to give up, huh?”
“No.”
“You and I have that in common then.” His attention is fixed on me, and I can’t pretend to not grasp his meaning—that he also is not going to give up on the idea of us together.
“I’m not heroine material,” I blurt out of seemingly nowhere. My hand shoots to my mouth, scattering popcorn everywhere, but the damage is done. I can’t unsay the words.
Tai’s taken aback but recovers quickly. “Pardon?”
I lower my hand and clear my throat. “In answer to your question of what life lesson I have learned the hard way. That’s the lesson I’ve learned. I’m not heroine material.”
He blinks and visibly collects himself. “I thought you’d either forgotten the questions or had decided to ignore them entirely.” He shifts his body in his seat and squares off with me, his hands rising to hold the sides of my face and force me to look him in the eyes.
“Now you listen to me and you listen to me well, Evangeline Victoria Kelly. Whoever told you you’re not a heroine is a liar. A heroine is determined. Compassionate. She loves unconditionally, and she doesn’t need a man to rescue her. She may be flawed, but she never stops learning and growing or making the world a better place for the people around her. Youarea heroine, Angel. Don’t let anyone tell you or make you feel differently, do you hear me?”
My heart swells in my chest, and it’s hard to keep the tears at bay. The dry and parched places of my soul are soaking up the words and reflection of myself that Tai’s offering me.
“Dude, you guys are on the Jumbotron.”
The man sitting behind us reminds me that Tai and I are not alone. And, apparently, we now have an audience of thousands. I look to center field, and, sure enough, Tai and I are being displayed in high def, the wordsKiss Camwritten on a banner at the bottom of the screen.
