Page 6 of Totally Fanatic

“Let’s get this party started!” he cheers, jogging off to the side. Anyone who was sitting is now on their feet and as the OG players jog out onto the center field, the baseballs roll forward, and standing in their place is the pop group, Rising C’s.

Were they inside the balls?

I don’t really have time to ponder how they got there because the band kicks off, and after the OG teams perform their number, the Funky Monkeys and Animal Control take to the field. I don’t care how many times I see them perform; there’s just nothing I love more than watching Tim. He spins and cartwheels across the grass, laughing and moving into place for their next number, and when he waves toward our section, my stomach flips. I wave back, hoping he’ll see me, and when he smiles, I’m pretty sure he did.

The performance is over far too quickly for some, but it’s game time, and tonight, the OG’s are up to bat first, and Timjogs out to right field to take his place. He’s fidgeting with his glove, bouncing on his feet side to side, his stare locked on the hitter. Waiting for that moment, the crack of the bat, and when it comes, he takes off to the right at full speed.

“Wooo, go Tim!” I cheer, and he slides onto his knees, skimming across the grass, scoops up the ball and immediately sends it toward second baseman, John Morley.

John’s ready for it and the game kicks off with the first out.

***

“Well, that was good, even if we didn’t win,” Mary Beth says, linking her arm in mine as we stroll toward her car. I would have ridden my bike down like I do most other games, but Mary Beth said it looked like rain. It looked like a regular, cold, but clear-skyed February day to me. It’s dark now, though, and I can see a few stars have come out like glitter above us. I climb in her Prius. It’s a tight fit, partly because my legs are so long and partly because I can’t push the seat back any further because Mary Beth has boxes of cafe stock that she picked up on the way to get me taking up the entire back seat.

“See, I told you.” She beams, nodding toward the windshield.

“Told me what?”

“That it looked like rain.”

“But it didn’t.”

“It’s raining now,” she says, waving her hand at the dots peppering the glass.

“Yep, good thing we drove or I’d be soaked by the time I got home. I hope Chip is inside and not out visiting again, he hates the hair dryer.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely, you should have seen him last time he slipped into the bath and I had to dry him off. I needed stitches andantibiotics after that. Look, I think you can still see the scar,” I say, holding out my left arm for her to see. But there isn’t really enough light coming from the streetlights outside to really show much.

“Not about Chip, about the rain.”

“What about the rain?”

She sighs. “Never mind. Do you want to grab dinner?”

“I thought you were going out with that guy again.”

“I decided to cancel.”

“Why? He seemed nice.”

She looks over at me for a moment, then returns her attention to the road ahead. “When did you meet him?”

“At the cafe last week, he was waiting for you out front when I left. He liked my bike.”

“He also likes his wife.”

“He’s married?”

“Yep, his wife decided to join us at dinner.”

“Oh, so he wanted you to date both of them?”

“No. Why would you think… he said he was single. She showed up when we were eating the lasagna and threw my wine in his face.”

“So, not a poly thing?”

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