Page 97 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“Thanks, Rosen.”
“You’re welcome, McKinnon.” I drain my water glass and set it on the coffee table. “Am I going to get in trouble for not using a coaster?”
“Yes,” he says seriously. “You will be punished.”
My hand flies to my chest in mock fear. “What’s my punishment?”
He tilts his head as though considering something, then gives a little laugh and changes tack. “It’s getting late. Are you riding home, or am I driving you?”
“I can bike. Should be fine as long as there aren’t any more downpours.”
“You never know,” he says.
“Yeah. You never do.”
He promises to text me about the baseball game. I thank him for everything and say goodbye, then let myself out into the starlit night.
Chapter 32
Peanuts! Peanuts here!”
The peanut vendor strolls down the aisle of the stadium. Gramps is contentedly munching on Cracker Jacks. I’d found the one snack counter that sells them, to Gramps’s delight.
He and Daniel don’t even notice the peanut guy—I mean, really, how adorable is it that someone is walking around selling peanuts in little paper bags?—because they’re deep in conversation about the third inning.
“I haven’t seen a bases-clearing triple like that in years.”
“And the way Ramirez shot that line drive straight to center field!”
I sip my lemonade and watch them chat, not exactly listening, their baseball terms floating gently over my head. And then I check Slack on my phone for the hundredth time, because it’s the middle of the afternoon and I’m playing hooky from work.
After a while, Gramps notices that I’m typing messages every few minutes. “If they fire you, you can stay with me, rent-free.” He says it nonchalantly, squinting out into the field, grinning as he pops another handful of Cracker Jacks into his mouth.
“Thanks,” I laugh. It’s too bad that shacking up with your grandpa isn’t an actual life plan.
Not much happens for the next hour, it feels like, but Grampsand Daniel don’t run out of things to talk about. Gramps didn’t ask me any questions about why we brought Daniel to the game with us. Trish would be asking why the property manager’s here; my mom would be asking when we’re going to send out save-the-dates. But Gramps is just happy to be here, and happy to talk baseball with Daniel.
And I am, too. I’m rather pleased with myself for having the brilliant idea to take Gramps to a game. It feels like the perfect last hurrah.
Not to mention that it gives me a few extra hours to stare at Daniel. I have fully accepted that nothing is meant to happen between us, but that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to the way I feel about him. I have a huge crush. I enjoy looking at him and talking to him and being with him, and that’s okay. A crush doesn’t hurt anyone. Not when you have realistic expectations about what can or can’t happen.
After several more innings, I’m starting to get a bit restless, sitting in the stands with no action to pretend to pay attention to. The other team scores, then more things happen or don’t happen (I’m not sure), and then the game is over and the Rays have won, six to one. I silently thank the baseball gods that I just happened to take Gramps to a winning game.
As we’re filing out of the stands, Gramps says, “I can’t thank you both enough. Taking an old geezer like me out to a ball game is a mitzvah, that’s for certain. And it was nice talking to you, young man. You remind me a lot of your father.”
Even as we’re jostled by the crowd around us, one glance at Daniel’s face tells me how much this compliment means to him. As we reach the end of the stairs, Daniel reaches out to steady Gramps by the elbow, somehow communicating compassion and respect with a single, wordless touch.
Daniel interrupts these thoughts by saying, “Leonard, if you feel like getting out again this weekend, my mom is having her annual family barbecue. She’d be happy for you to join us.”
“I’m sure Mallory and I would be delighted.” Gramps beams. “Thank you.”
Daniel looks around at me sharply. “You’ll still be here?”
“Leaving on Sunday. But if you don’t want—”
Daniel waves away my protests. “The more the merrier. It’s Saturday at noon. Wally’s welcome to come, too.”
“Can we bring anything?”
