Page 18 of 5 Golden Flings

It was hard to get excited about a wedding these days, lavish or not. He didn’t have time for romance. It was better to focus on baseball. That was his job, his calling. His divorce six years earlier had convinced him any thoughts of marriage and family would have to wait. He liked Tristan a lot, but being here was an obligation. He’d do what had to be done, but damn he wished people would stop trying to set him up.

Ben said goodnight and headed for the elevator. Luckily it was empty and stayed that way until he reached the fifth floor. Once inside his room he headed straight for the sliding glass door. The balcony beyond was small, with just enough room for two chairs and a small table. The view was spectacular, especially at night, with moonlight shining on the water.

He didn’t see the woman until she spoke. She’d been struggling with her luggage last time he’d seen her. Now she sat in shadow on the balcony next to his, a cup of coffee in her hand, her feet propped on the little table.

She said, “You stole my parking spot.”

“What?”

“You and your fancy sports car,” she grumbled.

“It’s a…”

“I don’t care what it is. You stole my spot.”

“Uh, sorry?”

“I suppose you didn’t know it was my spot so I’ll let it go. Eventually. I saw you talking to Tristan downstairs. Are you here for the wedding?”

He should say goodnight and step back inside. Peace and quiet, that’s what he needed right now. It was his bad luck that the balcony not behind a privacy wall was occupied by a chatty woman. If her room was on the other side of his he’d never see her, but these connecting room balconies were open to one another. For families, he supposed, as opposed to single men who just wanted to be left alone.

He could be civil and answer her question, then go inside. What other choice did he have? “I am.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Have you known Tristan long? I’d really like to know if he’s a good guy, you know, I want to make sure he’s good enough for Nat. I mean, I know he has money, that he can take care of her and all that, but is he worthy?”

Worthy. That was an odd word, but he got it. “You can rest easy. Tristan is a good guy, and he’s crazy about Natalie.”

“Good. That makes me feel better.”

He could sit as he’d planned, turn away from her so she wasn’t in his line of sight. For a while he could enjoy the view he’d come out here for. If he wasn’t looking at the woman she’dprobably stop talking. But he didn’t sit, and he didn’t turn his back on her. “Are you good friends with the bride?”

“Best friends since second grade, though we don’t talk much anymore. After college we went our separate ways. It’s going to be a busy few days, but I hope we have a chance to catch up.”

Second grade? “Natalie and I actually went to school together for a few years, before my Dad got transferred to North Carolina. I was twelve when we left Huntsville.”

The woman looked his way. He still couldn’t see her face nearly well enough. “That means you and I went to school together.”

Ben moved closer to the railing. He could barely see her, but a dim light from her room shone through the windows giving him a hint, or two. Her hair was red, he could tell that much. Hair color alone was hardly enough for him to be sure, but he said, “Molly?”

She left her chair, put her paper coffee cup on the table, and joined him. They stood just a few feet apart. Molly squinted and leaned forward. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t recognize you. I suspect you’ve changed a bit since you were twelve.”

“Ben Crusher.”

She took a step back. “Benjy?”

He laughed. “No one has called me Benjy for a very long time.”

“You’ve definitely changed,” she said with a smile. “Oh my God, why didn’t Nat tell me you’d be here? This is crazy, that we’re next door to each other, though I guess they put wedding people on the same floor. You really do look great. What are you doing these days?”

She didn’t know? There were times he was convinced everyone on the planet knew his every move, his successes and his failures. “I’m playing ball in Boston.”

“Really? That’s cool. I guess you like it?”

“I do.”

“But ugh. Boston! Isn’t it cold?”

That was a different reaction from the ones he usually got. He loved playing ball, but he hated the fame that came with it. People could be weird. “Sometimes. Do you follow baseball at all?”

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