run the rules down with you?” I was trying to match her tone and failing.
Billy nodded her head, but said nothing else. On the ride over I began to doubt the sanity of my decision to ask her to play. I didn't have very many friends, and the last thing I needed was for her to alienate the ones I did have.
When we arrived at the south field, most of my team was already there—drinking beer and watching the six o'clock team finish up. I introduced Billy to everyone and much to my relief, she was pleasantly polite. Mike was hovering over a picnic table with our team captain working out the line-up. When he finished he strolled over, eyeing Billy curiously.
“Hey, George, you made it!” He turned to Billy. “And who is this lovely lady?” Mike had everything going for him; he was handsome, rich, and very likable, and was a serial dater. I'd never known him to stick with one woman for more than a month or so.
“Hey Mike,” I said, trying to catch his eye to let him know that Billy wasn't his type, but he was too busy staring at her, so I made the introductions. “This is Billy…Billy, Mike.”
Mike thrust his hand forward and Billy took it. The shake lingered far longer than I thought necessary and eventually Billy broke it, a very slight blush spreading across her face.
We did a little warming up; Billy had a surprisingly good arm and made some powerfully accurate throws. She also caught everything I threw at her. I was beginning to wonder just how truthful her claim was of never having played before.
The game got started and I played second base while Billy played right field. There weren't many balls heading in her direction and I could tell she was getting a little bored. I threw her a bone and traded places with her in inning three. She caught two fly balls, retiring the batters, and she hit two homeruns, surprising the hell out me; the last one was the go-ahead game winner. When the game ended Mike and our team captain were adamant we celebrate by going to the Final-Final Sports Bar on Baker Street in the Marina District.
I didn't think Billy would want to go, but her performance on the field had elevated her to celebrity status with my teammates and they were insistent that we join them for at least one beer. Resistance was futile.
When we arrived, Mike and I went to order while Billy hit the restroom. “So, what's the story with her?” Mike asked.
“Story?” I replied, knowing exactly what he meant.
“You know what I mean. You two…got a thing?”
I laughed insincerely at him. “No, Mike, we're just friends…co-workers, that's all.”
“Mind if I ask her out?”
I'd known this was coming, but I wasn't sure how to respond. My big-brother instinct was trying to kick in for the second time that day, but I also knew I didn't have any right to make decisions for Billy.
“Nope, but I'll warn you, she's not much for socializing. It was like pulling teeth to get her to come tonight.” I was hoping my discouraging tone would deter him—the flicker of determination in his eyes told me otherwise.
Billy came out of the restroom with another player, smiling at something the woman had said. Billy said something to her and they both laughed. I had no idea who this Billy was, and for a minute I wondered if she'd been possessed. A quick scan of the bar told me it was just us mortals…damn ghosts were never around when you needed one.
Mike was talking to me again. “So what happened to your face?” Billy's cuts had faded to the point where she dabbed a little make-up on them and they virtually disappeared; mine were fading, but still noticeable. The first thing that came to mind was Phil's explanation to Ed, the bartender at Seymour's.
“Oh, that, it's nothing. I decided to try out boxing at my gym, it didn't go so well,” I said, but Mike was no longer interested in me or my injuries. Billy had joined us and all of his attention was suddenly on her.
Mike and Billy spent the entire time together,
Billy nodded her head, but said nothing else. On the ride over I began to doubt the sanity of my decision to ask her to play. I didn't have very many friends, and the last thing I needed was for her to alienate the ones I did have.
When we arrived at the south field, most of my team was already there—drinking beer and watching the six o'clock team finish up. I introduced Billy to everyone and much to my relief, she was pleasantly polite. Mike was hovering over a picnic table with our team captain working out the line-up. When he finished he strolled over, eyeing Billy curiously.
“Hey, George, you made it!” He turned to Billy. “And who is this lovely lady?” Mike had everything going for him; he was handsome, rich, and very likable, and was a serial dater. I'd never known him to stick with one woman for more than a month or so.
“Hey Mike,” I said, trying to catch his eye to let him know that Billy wasn't his type, but he was too busy staring at her, so I made the introductions. “This is Billy…Billy, Mike.”
Mike thrust his hand forward and Billy took it. The shake lingered far longer than I thought necessary and eventually Billy broke it, a very slight blush spreading across her face.
We did a little warming up; Billy had a surprisingly good arm and made some powerfully accurate throws. She also caught everything I threw at her. I was beginning to wonder just how truthful her claim was of never having played before.
The game got started and I played second base while Billy played right field. There weren't many balls heading in her direction and I could tell she was getting a little bored. I threw her a bone and traded places with her in inning three. She caught two fly balls, retiring the batters, and she hit two homeruns, surprising the hell out me; the last one was the go-ahead game winner. When the game ended Mike and our team captain were adamant we celebrate by going to the Final-Final Sports Bar on Baker Street in the Marina District.
I didn't think Billy would want to go, but her performance on the field had elevated her to celebrity status with my teammates and they were insistent that we join them for at least one beer. Resistance was futile.
When we arrived, Mike and I went to order while Billy hit the restroom. “So, what's the story with her?” Mike asked.
“Story?” I replied, knowing exactly what he meant.
“You know what I mean. You two…got a thing?”
I laughed insincerely at him. “No, Mike, we're just friends…co-workers, that's all.”
“Mind if I ask her out?”
I'd known this was coming, but I wasn't sure how to respond. My big-brother instinct was trying to kick in for the second time that day, but I also knew I didn't have any right to make decisions for Billy.
“Nope, but I'll warn you, she's not much for socializing. It was like pulling teeth to get her to come tonight.” I was hoping my discouraging tone would deter him—the flicker of determination in his eyes told me otherwise.
Billy came out of the restroom with another player, smiling at something the woman had said. Billy said something to her and they both laughed. I had no idea who this Billy was, and for a minute I wondered if she'd been possessed. A quick scan of the bar told me it was just us mortals…damn ghosts were never around when you needed one.
Mike was talking to me again. “So what happened to your face?” Billy's cuts had faded to the point where she dabbed a little make-up on them and they virtually disappeared; mine were fading, but still noticeable. The first thing that came to mind was Phil's explanation to Ed, the bartender at Seymour's.
“Oh, that, it's nothing. I decided to try out boxing at my gym, it didn't go so well,” I said, but Mike was no longer interested in me or my injuries. Billy had joined us and all of his attention was suddenly on her.
Mike and Billy spent the entire time together,
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