Once we’re done with our dinner, I bring everything inside as the sun starts to go down. When I come back, he’s lying on his back, staring up at the stars starting to shine through.
I take a moment to check him out before making my presence known. His interest in the stars is obvious. He even lifts his arm like he’s measuring something between the tips of his fingers.
“Are you a star buff?” I ask as I make my way back to my blanket.
“I’ve always been fascinated by them. Don’t know a ton though. I try to find the Big Dipper and stuff like that. I wish I knew more. How about you?”
I lie down and stare up at the vast sky. “Me too. I took a few classes in college though.”
“Then, what’s that?” he asks, pointing to five stars that make aWimage.
“That’s Cassiopeia. Greek mythology says she thought she was the most beautiful thing around, so she was placed in the sky as a punishment. TheWmakes up her crown.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that name before.”
I show him a few other things as we take in the night sky.
As the darkness surrounds us, he turns his head, so he’s looking at me instead of the sky. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer. Squirting some on his hand, he lays his arm out flat toward me.
“Give me your hand,” he says.
Our eyes meet, and my chest tightens. When I reach out, he rubs the sanitizer between our fingers and then keeps them there, holding my hand as both of our arms are stretched out. We’re keeping our distance yet touching each other for the first time.
Feeling him sends a zing through my body. His hand is warm, and I can feel the slight callus he has from swinging a bat.
I keep my sight glued on his.
I want so badly to touch him more.
I want to feel his lips and know what they taste like.
I inhale a deep breath as we stay like this. For now, I’ll take all I can get. For now, this is our own version of beingalone together, just like the hashtag keeps saying.
14
Day 14
April 9
It’s a damn good thing I fixed my sink because I went to run my dishwasher and realized I had zero soap. When I thought about running to the store, I had to be real with myself. If I were to get this virus just because I was too lazy to wash these dishes by hand, I’d never forgive myself.
So, instead of running to the store, I blast some music and go to town on washing an entire load of dishes by hand. When I think about how most of these are dirty because I made dinner for Drew last night, it makes it all worth it.
Once I’m done, I curl up on my couch with a cup of coffee and turn on the TV. Scrolling through the channels, I see MLB Network is replaying the 1977 World Series and turn it on just for the laugh.
When I seeSportsCenteris airing still, I click on it, wondering how they’re running the show now and if it’s broadcast live or through Zoom and people’s houses.
I’m not lost on the fact that I turned onSportsCenter—a show that I’ve only seen when my sister’s husband has it on at their place. And, yes, it’s all Drew’s fault.
The show is breaking news of an NFL team trading some guy named Brandin Cooks and a future pick to the Texans for a second-round pick, and within seconds, I’m lost on who’s who and what team they’re referencing.
I go to change the channel when they tease the upcoming touching story about the newly signed San Francisco Giants player Andrew Miller.
My eyes bug out of my head as I sit up straighter, almost spilling my coffee. I grab my phone, thinking I should call Drew to tell him, and then I pause and want to smack myself in the head. Obviously, if there’s a touching story about him, he knows about it.
Then, a small pang hits me in my chest.If he knew about it, then why didn’t he tell me?
I wait—not so patiently, I might add—for the show to come back on. When it does, the host introduces an organization called More Than Baseball. Their spokesman tells us about the minor league and how things work behind the scenes. I’ve always thought if you’re a baseball player, you make money. Boy, was I wrong.
