“Good, I'm delighted to hear it. It makes me happy that my maid/assistant/tour guide/company for the trip will join me on this little adventure,” Marco said and Sabrina loved the way he’d stressed the last title in the list.
Marco’s personal driver pulled up and stopped the vehicle in front of the stadium. As soon as the car stopped, Sabrina and Marco hopped out quickly, as if their exit were being timed. Marco pulled the brim of his plain cap down and put on his sunglasses.
Their ride drove off, and the two of them joined one of many lines of people being filtered into the stadium. The massive crowds reminded Sabrina of ants funneling into a colony. She felt glad to have Marco by her side and never allowed herself to get beyond an arm’s reach away.
Valetta had secured two club-level seats just to the right of home plate. From what she could figure, these were very good seats.
I guess a lot of money makes most things possible, she thought.
When the elevator opened on the club level, Marco stepped out and began walking as if he’d been there a thousand times. His type of confidence wasn’t conceited, but more of a levelheaded certainty, something that Sabrina found especially alluring.
Without warning he stopped abruptly and Sabrina nearly crashed into him from behind.
“I should buy a hat.” He turned to face her as the two stood to the side of a merchandise concession stand. “I'd like to wear a proper Yankees hat instead of this thing.” He removed the Polo hat he’d worn since their arrival in New York and Sabrina got another much appreciated sight of his hair ruffled into a perfect tangle.
“Which one do you like?” Sabrina asked, looking up and down at the various ball caps and other baseball paraphernalia.
“That black one,” he said, pointing to a cap in the top corner of the stand. Sabrina nodded and marched up to the stand.
“Excuse me,” she said, more assertively than she’d ever sounded before. “I’d like to purchase that hat.”
The man behind the counter grabbed it for her and she paid using her company credit card. The man cut off the tags for her before going to the next customer. It was a good thing Marco was rich because this stuff was expensive.
She turned around to see that Marco’s grinning at her. She handed him the hat.
“Thank you,” he said, and fixed the hat firmly on his head. “How does it look?”
“Looking a little more American,” Sabrina replied with a grin.
But still just as handsome, she thought to herself.
Marco bowed his head and laughed. “I’ll take what I can get,” he said.
“All you need now is an American Flag t-shirt and you'll be good to go,” Sabrina said, jokingly. “Or maybe one of those 'I Heart New York' ones.
Marco laughed and led them into the box where their seats were located. As soon as they stepped inside, her jaw hit the floor. It was better than anything she'd ever seen on TV. The view of the field was even more incredible than she could have ever imagined. It was breathtaking and caused to her to simply stare out across the stadium without saying a word.
After a minute of silence, Sabrina looked up and realized that Marco was also lost in a trance.
“This is crazy,” she said. For a moment, she felt like she should pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
Marco lifted his stare from the field and looked over to Sabrina.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I think it’s beautiful,” she whispered. She wished her dad could see this. It would be a dream come true for him, even if it was a Yankees' game and not his beloved Braves. No baseball fan could sit in this spot and not be awed.
Their seats were behind a thin table at the front of the club box, which opened into the evening air. The grass below them was so green and vibrantly alive that it looked almost neon. It was gleaming from the stadium lights that were bright stars against the dimming sky.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like this,” Sabrina said, after a moment. Her eyes were still scanning the view in front of them as she spoke.
“You’ve never attended a baseball game?” Marco asked, seeming quite surprised.
“Never,” Sabrina said.
She thought back to the games that her dad used to watch late at night on their miniature TV. Occasionally as a kid, Sabrina would join him and watch until she faded into boredom. They’re better in person, her father would always say, and he was right.
“Another first-time experience for both of us,” Marco said, using his elbow to gently nudge her arm.