Page 58 of Totally Opposed

“Your meal. Do you want to do the honors?” he asks, and Ryan grabs the large spoon and takes Gramps’s plate first to dish him up.

“Have you ever played baseball?” Ryan asks Gramps, and my stomach flips.Really?

“I did, in my youth, didn’t go on with it, though.”

“It’s the best game in the world, isn’t it?” Duckie adds, and I look at him pleading with my eyes that he stop.

“I’d have to agree with you there,” Gramps replies, taking a mouthful of his dinner.

“I never really liked it before I met Gordie, and now I’m obsessed. I heard you pitched over two hundred miles per hour a few weeks ago, Ryan,” Niki asks, and Gramps’s eyebrows rise a little.

“Yeah, two-oh-three, but I haven’t done it again. I’m stuck at two hundred and two.”

“You pitch two hundred and two miles per hour?” Gramps asks, but before he can respond, I find my mouth opening.

“Ryan is amazing,” I say, and he smiles my way and continues to dish out the food. “He’s the best pitcher in the league.”

“Hey,” Gordon chimes in. “You’re supposed to be on my team.”

“I am. But I was brought up to never lie, sorry if the truth hurts.”

“You lied about…” Gordon starts but then stops before finishing the sentence, his eyes moving between Ryan and me.

“About what?” Gramps asks, shoveling in another mouthful and looking around the table as he chews, waiting for his reply. We haven’t officially told Gramps about us. He probably suspects, given the amount of time Ryan and I are together, but he could also be totally oblivious, and at a dinner party in a room full of Banana Ball players is probably not the best time to announce our relationship to him.

“About being friends with a Funky Monkey,” Ryan finishes, and I smile.

“Ahh, well, good company is good company, no matter what they call themselves.”

Duckie goes in for a second helping, having almost inhaled his first serving in about two seconds.

“Alan still got his bat around that fastball last week,” Duckie says. “Were you a two-B like Alan when you played, Mr. B?”

He shakes his head. “I played center field for a little while and got a few good hits in, but never anything that fast. I’m not sure I’d even see that ball coming.”

“I can’t see it either. Half the time, I swear I’m guessing when to swing and hoping to feel the sting of the bat when it connects.”

“You haven’t seen Alan play, Mr. B?” Niki asks, and the whole table falls silent.

“I don’t really go out.”

“Oh, but you should for this. I mean, what they are doing is amazing. Banana Ball is everything you could love about baseball mixed with…”

“A circus,” Gramps finishes, and the guys go back to eating.

“That’s pretty right,” Ryan replies, only he’s happy about the comparison. I’m wondering why I didn’t put a stop to this the second it was suggested. I love Gramps and I love my friends, but the two of them in a room talking about baseball is not my idea of a good time.

“I loved the circus as a kid. Didn’t you?” Ryan goes on to say. “The way the ringmaster gets the crowd excited, ready for the show, the clowns lightening the mood, making people laugh, kids smiling, playing, and having fun. Then the real show begins and everyone is already hyped up and cheering along. A circus is a great way of putting it. All the fun of the circus mixed with all the best parts of baseball.”

Gramps doesn’t reply, just nods and continues to eat his dinner. It’s the closest I think he’s come to acceptance of anything baseball being related to what we play, and you know what? I’ll take it.

Something brushes up against my leg, and my heart jumps into my throat as I shove back in my chair, all eyes on me as it clamors to the floor behind me.

Precious meows from beneath the table.

“Seriously, dude, what is it with you and this cat?” Stevie asks, and Harry holds up his hands.

“Not getting into it. I moved out. I’m good now.”

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