Page 292 of Well Played

The others laughed. Lila shook her head. “Y’all are so bad.” She grabbed her bag and waited for her friends. “You can have all the pretty. All I want is a nice guy with basic intelligence, good hygiene, and doesn’t need me to financially support whatever bad habit he wants to hide from me.”

“What’s the saying? You can get two of those, maybe three, but all of that would be a miracle.”

They all walked to their respective cars.

“Maybe she’s waiting for a miracle.” Davina called out.

“All I’m waiting for is stuff from the ‘Zon and my cousin’s care packages from wherever. Anything after that would be a miracle.”

“Here’s to getting your miracle!”

“Your lips to God’s ears, Stef.”

Jasper was at the door,waiting for Lila to get inside. Lila smiled as she set her backpack on the hall table. “Hey, Jaz,” she said, slipping her shoes off. “What’s going on, sweetie?”

He wound around her ankles before sprawling on the floor in front of her. Sitting on the floor, she rubbed his belly, his fur soft and sparking with static. Her Maine Coon cat purred loudly, grabbing at her fingers, his tail swishing slowly from side to side. She sorted through her mail, giving the paper flyers to Jasper to claw up. Among the bills and solicitations, there were several postcards from her cousin, Jo, who was currently stationed in Yokosuka. She would put them in the album she’d started when Jo started sending postcards. Jo also sent goodie boxes from different countries; her coworkers loved those, since the boxes were usually filled with candy and other snacks from all over the world. She’d keep what she wanted and brought the rest to work to share.

Grabbing the take-out bag to her living room, she fired up her tv and flipped through the channels. The bad part about Thursday nights was that nothing was really worth watching unless you went to the paid stuff. So she put on the baseballgame, leaving it on for noise, got her needles out and started working on the scarf she was making for Jo. She wanted to get it finished before the end of the week so she could ship it off. It was September, and if she wanted to make sure her cousin got the present she was putting together, Lila had to get it in the mail by the end of the month.

Crowd noises echoed from the tv. The San Diego Corsairs were playing against Arizona and actually doing really well for a change. The Corsairs weren’t a bad team, but this year consisted of ups and downs and though the fans were used to it, the city had higher hopes this season. They showed sparks of brilliance, but it wasn’t enough to guarantee a postseason berth.

Having set her rhythm with her knitting needles, she started half-watching the game. One of the rookies was up to bat. Kinda cute, nice smile as he squared up at the plate. Watching him, she could tell when he turned his attention to the game. His eyes went sharp, the smile faded and as his shoulders squared up, his whole body seemed to settle. The first pitch was a strike, but he didn’t seem phased by it. He exhaled as the pitcher set and threw.

CRACK!

That ball was gone. She was surprised it wasn’t on fire. And as he ran the bases, the smile was back. She wondered if he’d be at the blood drive when she was there. Hopefully he wasn’t a complete idiot. Maybe she would have a story to tell Jo for their next call.

3

The Sports CityBlood Drive was the biggest blood drive of its kind in the country. It started as a request from the Crusaders Football Team for fans to go to a local blood bank to donate blood for one of the team coaches, who had to have surgery and needed several units of blood. The response was overwhelming, and the Crusaders turned it into a yearly thing and invited the other teams to join in. Every professional sports team in San Diego turned out, as well as the athletes from the Olympic training center, with every athlete signing autographs, taking pictures, and every team contributing prizes to the donor giveaways. Even the minor league and semi-pro teams joined in. It turned into a friendly rivalry, with every team inviting their fanbase to come, donate blood, and vote for their favorite team by choosing the team blood drive shirt. The team that gave out the most of their shirts won a perpetual trophy from the blood bank.

The rookies always appeared with at least one veteran, and it was an hour before Nando stood up from the table to stretch, arching his back after signing autographs and greeting fans. The signing group would take a short break before heading over to the donation stations to give blood.

Nando loved the whole idea of pro athletes coming together and supporting the city for such a worthy cause. His ownabuelatook ten units of blood during her last surgery due to complications. She pulled through and once she was healthy, she encouraged everyone in the family to donate blood.

But Nando hated needles.

He put up with them for blood tests and vaccinations because he had to but avoided needles whenever possible. When he was in the minors, he was able to avoid donations because he either had the flu or gotten a tattoo. This would be his first blood drive with no excuses.

He wanted to throw up.

Seeing Nando’s nervousness, Nate Paul, one of his teammates, nudged his knee.

“Hey, Vargas, you gonna be ok?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Nando took deep breaths.

“You look like you’re gonna puke or pass out.”

“Nah,” Nando shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Ok, rookie,” Brooks said, taking the chair next to him. “But if you pass out, you’re not living it down.”

“I’m cool, dude.” Nando snorted with false bravado, grabbing a bottle of water and a marshmallow square, trying to settle his nerves to face the needle. They’d already done all the pre-qualification things, so all he needed to do was go to the donor stations and find a bed.

Brooks went first, winking at the leggy blond who led him to her draw station. Nando gave him a shaky smile and checked his phone.

“Hey, you’re up.”

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