Page 75 of Guys Can't Write Romance
Daisy had picked out a nice blue dress for the night, and spent forty minutes getting her twisted updo just right; and if Ethan noticed any of it, he wasn’t letting on. It wasn’t that she was vain,she was actually far from it, but a simple acknowledgment of the effort would have felt nice.
A roar erupted from The Dugout Sports Bar as they passed, followed by cheers, whistles, and the clink of glasses. Looking through the window, a slight smile tugged at Daisy’s face as she saw people clapping each other on the back, spilling beer, and hugging strangers.
“I think the Dodgers are winning,” she said, slowing down to watch the celebration through the window.
“I suppose some people might find that exciting,” Ethan said, adjusting his tie. His tone carried a faint condescension.
“I do.”
He looked at her like she’d just burped in public. “Since when?”
“Since Chad helped me understand the game. It’s actually pretty fun.”
“Chad?” Ethan thought for a moment. “I don’t recall you mentioning him before.”
“He’s my writing partner. You met him once at my apartment.”
“Oh, the P.E. teacher,” Ethan said dismissively. “I remember him now.”
“He also coaches little league.” The defensiveness caught her by surprise, as did the sudden fond memories of watching Chad work with the boys on his team.
“I’m not surprised.” Ethan’s tone suggested this only confirmed his initial assessment.
“Maybe you and I could catch a game sometime? We could get us some jerseys, and spend the afternoon drinking beer and eating wings.” Even as the words left her mouth, she realized there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of it happening.
“In a sports bar?” He shot her a look like she’d just asked him to lick a toilet.
“Yeah. It would be fun. They have these giant pretzels with cheese sauce.”
Ethan looked at her for a moment, like he was waiting for the punchline. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything. Those people aren’t our crowd, Daisy. They don’t value the same things we do. I’d be willing to bet that most of them peaked in college and are going nowhere in life.” He nodded toward the bar window as if all of this was self-evident.
“Because they enjoy drinking beer and cheering on their team?”
“Because they never outgrew their adolescence. They’re still reliving their glory days of college instead of moving on and embracing adult forms of entertainment.”
“So, fun doesn’t factor into the equation?”
“Not if it traps you in a perpetual state of adolescence.”
Daisy felt something shifting inside her. “Why does everything have to be about ‘going somewhere’? Can’t it just be about enjoying the ride?”
“Now, you’re sounding like Chloe. And look where that’s gotten her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daisy felt heat rising to her cheeks at the dismissal of her free-spirited roommate.
“It means, she’s twenty-nine years old and paints pottery for a living. How’s that going to look in ten years?”
“Chloe’s one of the happiest people I know. So, it’s working out pretty well for her.”
“Just wait, and you’ll see I’m right.” The patronizing certainty in his tone grated on Daisy’s nerves in a way it never had before.
As they resumed walking, the sounds of the sports bar faded behind them, only to be replaced by something that made Daisy stop in her tracks.
The familiar opening notes of ‘Sweet Caroline’ bellowed from the open patio window at O’Donnell’s Bar & Grill, where Daisy could see someone inside on a small stage, microphone in hand, leading the entire bar in song. They looked happier than anyone Daisy had seen at Le Petit Jardin, and it tugged at something deep inside her.
