Page 11 of How We Fooled

“So, are you Mexican? I guessed you were Latina of some sort.”

“Yep, my mom is white, and my dad is Mexican. My mom has always been jealous of my skin color, compared to her paleness.” She holds out her arm to show me.

I hold mine out so our arms are next to each other. Her skin is slightly darker than mine, but my tan is due to from being outside so much.

“Just wait until the end of summer. I’ll be tanner than you. Spending all that time on the baseball field, I get tan as hell.”

“You must get one hell of a tan line then,” she teases.

I raise my eyebrows, nodding my head. “You have no idea. I look like I have a white shirt on compared to my arms. I try to spend my days off at the lake to even it out some.”

“I heard there’s a lake around here. Tucker has a houseboat there.”

“Nice. I take our Jet Skis out sometimes or just chill on the boat. Depends on how exhausted I am from playing.”

“Jet Skis? Boat? Your truck?” She tilts her head. “I guess my aunt was right, saying Leighton River was a little ritzier than Mason Creek.”

I shrug. “My dad and I like our toys. Work hard, play hard.” I wink at her and love the grin I get in return.

Lucy sets the bill down on the table, and I instantly grab it. “Oh, here, I have?—”

Liza reaches for her purse, but I stop her.

“It’s okay, I got it. This is our first date. Of course, dinner is on me.”

“Please, let me pay half. It’s not like you’re a full-grown adult with a real job. Wait, do you even have a job with all the sports you play?”

She hands me cash, and I place my hand over hers, feeling her soft skin for the first time.

“It’s okay. I appreciate the offer, but I got it.”

She nods, then moves her hand from under mine and places the money back in her purse.

“And, yes, I do have a real job, well, kind of.”

I place my card on the end of the table for Lucy to come get, which she does in seconds.

“Kind of?” She tilts her head in question.

“I umpire Little League games and give private lessons to some of the kids as well.”

I don’t tell her that I don’t charge the families of those I give lessons to, but she doesn’t need to know that part. I am paid for the umpiring at least, so, yes, I do have my own money and don’t just leech off my parents’ money all the time.

“Do you—what’s it called for basketball? Referee for basketball? Or how about kids’ football games?”

I shake my head. “No. Just baseball.”

“Do you give private lessons in either basketball or football?”

I shake my head again, wondering where she’s going with this.

“Well, I think that’s three things in the short period of time I’ve known you that proves you like baseball better than the other two sports.”

I pinch my lips together and raise my eyebrows in surprise. People have asked me to ref for basketball, and kids have asked for lessons in how to throw the football better, but I always feel like I don’t have the time to do so. I seem to find the time for baseball though.

I nod my head slowly. “You might be onto something there.”

Lucy brings the card and receipt back. I sign it, put the card back in my wallet, then motion toward the door.

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