Page 23 of Mornings By the Linden Tree
“Finer than apple tarts,” Ms. Markes said as she pushed to her feet. “This man knows his Sox.” She jerked a thumb at Lennon, who bowed his head in gratitude. “I’ll be in touch sometime this week, Mr. Cole, but all seems to be in order.”
“Thank you,” Lennon said as he laid aside the hairbrush to shake her hand.
Ms. Markes gave Valeria a smile, then turned to me as she gathered herself to leave. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend. And we’ll talk later as well.”
“Same to you. Thank you so much for coming over. I know how sacrosanct weekends are,” I said, suddenly quite aware of my less-than-polished appearance.
“My job isn’t always nine to five, and that’s perfectly okay.” She tucked a strand of vibrant red hair behind an ear, slid her purse over her shoulder, and let me walk her to the door. I tried not to stand too closely as I had just gotten a whiff of my manly self. With a wave, she walked down to the corner and disappeared in the throngs of people moving into the Common. I closed the door, turned, and nearly fell over my niece.
“You smell bad,” she informed me while pinching her nose.
“I know,” I replied as I made a yucky face. That made her giggle. “I’ll shower and then we can go to the gardens. Would you like that? They have swan boats that you’ve not yet taken a ride in.”
“Swan boats!! Yay!!!” She bounded off to run laps around the house, yelling about swans. I wasn’t sure she even knew what a swan was, but she was excited. I padded into the living room tofind Lennon picking up pink barrettes from the sofa and coffee table.
“Heading to the swan boats, I take it?” he asked as he passed the barrettes over to me with a wink.
“Yes, would you like to come?” I asked, and this time, I was not wholly shocked by the offer. Spending time with him was pleasant. Incredibly so. He made me smile. And his nearness stirred up yearnings I’d not felt in so very long.
“I’d love to, but I actually have a party this afternoon. You two go and enjoy the boats. Oh, and if you’re down for it, we could maybe take Valeria to a Red Sox game? They’re playing the Reds Tuesday night. And, as a further incentive, it’s reversible bucket hat night!”
“Oh, yes, well, that sounds like quite the incentive.” I made a note to myself to look up what a reversible bucket hat was. “I’m sure she would love to see a baseball game.”
“But what about her uncle?” he teased, tipping his head just a bit. A shank of hair tumbled down into a bright blue eye.
“He’s not averse to cheering on the home team,” I replied and got a cheeky grin in reply.
“Cool. Meet you at Fenway?”
I nodded. He gave my biceps a squeeze, made a sound of appreciation for my muscle, and then let himself out as I went to find my ward. She was being far too quiet. I found her in her room with her stuffed animals all lined up on the floor.
“What is going on here?” I enquired.
She glanced up at me. “I was picking the bestest bunny to go to the swan boat.”
“Ah.” I knelt down beside her. “How will you decide?”
She tapped her chin. This was quite the pickle, it seemed. “I will take the one that gives me a nickel.”
A practical, if not somewhat mercenary, way to decide. There was a lesson here that I should pass along about choosing apartner based on other qualities other than nickels amassed, but I was too tired and too stinky to dive into a lengthy lesson.
“Make sure they bring enough nickels for everyone,” I settled on.
“Will do!” She gave me two thumbs up.
And that was how we ended up getting five cents off our tickets. Good old Green Bunny and his two flashy nickels.
Chapter Ten
It turns out a reversible bucket hat was not a sporty hat thing in the shape of a bucket. Not that I was unfamiliar with what a bucket hat was, per se, although I would never allow one on my head. I just assumed it was a silly beer sport hat a fan wore on his head and his tipsy buddies dumped beer into. Straws would be involved. Color me relieved when I saw it was just a normal bucket hat with the team’s logo on it.
I gave mine to Valeria, who was thrilled to be hatted up. Our seats were mid-level, among a throng of boisterous Sox fans who had been into the beer. Nothing too outrageous, but they were certainly loud when the game started. Lennon was in a Sox tee with cargo shorts and worn black sneakers, his free bucket hat perched jauntily atop his sandy blond head. I was in a cool cotton summer shirt with short sleeves, tan shorts, and a pair of Versace sandals. I had ensured my feet were tended to yesterday with an emergency pedicure in the afternoon. The salon owners were over the moon about Valeria, allowing her to play with one of the nail tech’s children while my callouses were being filed down. The two girls had a lovely time sitting on the floor playinggames on a children’s chunky tablet. I doubled my usual tip, not only for the last-minute appointment but for the sheer joy I had watching Valeria make another new friend. Any time she was not crying about bad beds was a time for elation.
“My hat is for the Sox!” Valeria shouted around a mouthful of soft pretzel. “Lennon has a Sox shirt. Where is your Sox clothes, Uncle Wes?”
Great. Called out by my own family.
“Yeah, Uncle Wes, where is your Sox clothes?” Lennon teased with a soft nudge of his bare knee to mine. A tingling rush of heat shot through my thigh to my balls.
