My face must do something stupid again while I stare at her message because Frank chuckles and points down at my screen. “You need to take that?”
“No, I’ll talk to her later.”
He nods. “I hope you do.”
The rest of the meal is pleasant, and it’s always great to spend time with the Carvers, but a small part of me is still worrying about Shelley. She’s obviously fine. If it were anything serious, she’d call her family or even the police. Not me. I’m sureshe only wants to vent. But knowing she’s upset at all doesn’t sit right with me, and I have a hard time forcing down my food. Exactly how bad was this date?
At the end of our meal, Frank tries to pay, like he always does, and he’s put-out to learn I was a step ahead of him and cleared the bill with Regina before they got here. I’m grateful to be in a place where I can finally be the one treating them to a meal and at least pay back a tiny bit of their generosity.
As we stand to go, I thank them for visiting, and Ms. Ruth rests a hand on my arm. “We wouldn’t miss it. We look forward to this trip all year. Watching you play has always been such a treat for us. We’re proud of you, Jordan.”
I clear my throat and nod at her, not quite sure what to say. Her words are kind, but my gut sinks. Baseball is what connects me to the Carvers. When I’m no longer playing, how often will I see them?
She squeezes lightly. “Well, we better get back to our room. I need a nap after all the excitement of that game of yours. And you have a phone call to make.” She reaches out, and when I bend down to hug her, she whispers, “You deserve to be happy, Jordan. If this young lady can bring some more joy into your life, let her. Don’t talk yourself out of it. You do that sometimes, you know.”
I wave as they leave, then I head home, willing myself not to call Shelley too soon after getting her text. I don’t want to look desperate, but I need to hear her voice.
Chapter 12
Jordan
"Hey, man. Long time no see,” Jake says as soon as I step into the apartment. He grabs a bottle of soda out of the fridge and pulls a jar of peanuts down from a cabinet.
I drop my bag and collapse onto the couch. “Yeah, we had a long stretch this week.”
“How’d everything go?” Our games aren’t usually televised, so he wouldn’t know. He’s in the stands on occasion, but for the most part my new roommate is the quiet, artistic type. He spends most of his days in his new community studio, which has made the transition to living together incredibly easy. We’re rarely home at the same time.
“We’re in the middle of a series against the Panthers,” I tell him. “So far, we’ve won two, lost one. Three more to go.” After years of living with Mike, I’m not used to having to update someone else. It’s kind of nice because I know Jake’s only being polite, and I never have to talk shop with him if I don’t want to. I can leave things on the field, like the details about striking out today.
Jake nods and sinks down onto the other side of the sofa. He looks even more exhausted than I feel. He and Alice invested in a building over on Main Street and Jake’s remodeling it himself. The manual labor has him drained.
“Want to watch something?” He grabs the remote and points it at the TV, turning on Weekly Wrap-Up, the satire newsshow. His head falls to his chest and he’s asleep before the first segment ends.
I turn the volume down a few notches and try not to laugh too loudly while I continue watching. A few minutes later, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Shelley:Seriously.Why are men?
I give in, finally typing out a reply.
Me:Why are we what?
Shelley:Uggggh. Just…why?
Me:All right. What happened?
Shelley:Once upon a time, some bozo invented the internet, then along came online dating, and here we are. So, back to my original question. Why? Are? Men?
Me:I take it this is about the date that did not go well?
Shelley:If by well you mean he showed up forty minutes late and got a nosebleed during our meal, which he tried to clean with the tablecloth, then it was great.
Shelley:Oh, and he also conveniently forgot his wallet, so I had to pay for the meal he ordered for himself AND the one he ordered for his mommy (which is what he still actually calls her, by the way).
Me:Yikes.
Shelley:Then my first rideshare cancelled, so I had to wait a half hour in the dark for another car to show up.
Me:Ok, yeah. That’s pretty bad.
