“Nope.”
“Perfect – see you Friday,” he replied and turned away, moving to drop down in the grass, sawing at the clumps of grass once more. “Oh, and Steffi?”
“Yeah?”
“I appreciate this,” he said gruffly without looking at her. “The team is curious about you and can’t wait to meet you. Just try to have a nice time and keep your hatred of me under wraps for a few hours… please?”
Steffi didn’t know what to say. Right now, hate was the last thing she was feeling or thinking. She was full of confusion, because she never expected him to be so kind or generous, nordid she expect herself to react to his words that seemed to pour from him out of nowhere.
“Sure thing, Distracted Weiner,” she lobbed hoarsely, nodding and turning to walk to the house once more… but his soft laugh stopped her. Looking over her shoulder at him, he was looking up at her – and smiling. He winked, shook his head, and went back to yanking a tuft of grass or weeds from his lawn.
Weird.
Friday rolled around,and she felt like Cinderella all over again. Driving home from work was the first time ever that she didn’t mentally calculate her bills, but rather felt a sense of relief that some unseen ‘boon’ had dropped into her lap – um – well on to her porch. Drake had come over, banged on her door like some heathen, and literally ‘Ding-Dong-Ditched’ a paper grocery bag on her doorstep.
She opened the bag, did a double-take, and then walked outside – into the evening air in nothing but her nightshirt and underwear, not caring in the slightest if there was a UFO about to suck her up in some beam of light or if the craziest thing in the universe had just happened. Drake brought over a bag full of things, sweet, romantic, unexpected drivel that would make any girl sigh in happiness… and it freakin’ worked.
Worked like a charm!
Dragging the bag inside, she plopped down on the linoleum entryway and began to dig like a child at Christmas. There was a leather purse inside that had red whipstitching along the seams to make it look like a baseball – and a matching wallet, but it was what was sticking out that shocked her. There were ten one-hundred-dollar bills tucked inside like it was nothing.She was sitting on the floor, holding a thousand bucks in cash in her hands, and that had barely scratched the surface of the unexpected gift. Teary-eyed, she reached in to pull out a baseball jersey with a large #17 on the front and ‘WALKER’ across the back. There were sneakers inside with the same red whipstitching design… and glittering earrings. The baseballs were encrusted with little tiny facets, with tiny baseball bats hanging from them. Frankly, this whole bag was a baseball enthusiast’s dream – and so thoughtful of Drake.
Emotionally, she was a mess. This was hands down the sweetest thing anyone had done for her – and it was so utterly shocking and bewildering that it was coming from someone like him. He was so grating, so annoying, so contrary… and so stinkin’ kind when he wanted to be.
Then it was decided.
Getting to her feet, she yanked the jersey over her head, smoothing it over her pajamas, and slapped the purse on her arm – before yanking open the front door without a care in the world. She was on a mission and had no clue what she was going to say or do, but somehow she was going to explain how much this meant to her, how thoughtful it was, how much relief all the money brought her, and how she would truly feel the part of his fiancée when she was in the stands.
Walking through the wet grass, she marched right over, not caring who saw her or what time it was – and banged wildly on his front door like he’d done to her, but she wasn’t running away. Drake opened the door a few seconds later.
“What? And when you knock like that – you’re supposed to run,” Drake barked out staunchly, looking defensive… and she realized it was a shield, an act. That clarity was so shocking that she could only stare at him as her mind whirled in understanding. “Did you have something to say – something like, ‘thank you, Douche Wanker’ – or something of the ilk?”
“I might not have quit,” she whispered hoarsely, staring into his eyes that softened and flickered.
“I might have been dumb enough to hire you,” he choked out and seemed to visibly pull himself together in front of her eyes. “Did you walk through my lawn?”
“Yup. I’m gonna do it again.”
“Of course you are.”
“I’ll be there Friday, cheering you on obnoxiously.”
“I’m counting on it.”
They stood there, staring at each other, before Steffi started to back away, unsure what else to say. She nodded erratically, stepped in his grass, and then looked at him. “Here I go - I’m walking through your lawn.”
“I’m noticing.”
“Bye…”
“See ya.”
Steffi took a few steps and paused, looking over her shoulder – only to see Drake peering around the wall of the front porch, watching her with an expression that she’d never seen on him before.
“Quit ogling,” she called out. “I’m not wearing shorts.”
“That’s exactly why I’m ogling,” he shot back – and Steffi yanked the back of the jersey down knowingly to make sure her bottom was covered. Was it impetuous – yes. Did she regret racing over there to see him?
Not in the slightest.
