It was a warm, spring day of May when Cane showed up at our house. I was sitting on the stool at the kitchen island, talking to Mom about how tough softball practice was. I didn’t hear a knock, just saw Cane coming into the kitchen with two Atlanta Braves baseball caps in hand.
I immediately stopped my blabbering when his throat cleared, peering over my shoulder to find him. He wore a half smile, his eyes sparkling from the sunlight that was bouncing off the marble counters.
My heart sped up to full-throttle, my throat thick and tight.
Mom greeted him, and he gave her a hug. Around the corner came Dad, who was wearing jeans and an Atlanta Braves T-shirt, along with a baseball cap.
“Come on, kid. Get dressed.” Dad met up to me, clapping my shoulder. “Cane booked a private booth for the Atlanta Braves game tonight for his employees. Said there’s room for us to join them. Your mom has to work, and we all know you’d rather spend time alone, but what do you say? Wanna come hang out with us and watch the game?”
In that moment, I could have squealed until the glass shattered. Of course, I wanted to go! Cane was going to be there, and in a private booth? I had always wondered what those private suites were like, so being in one with him was going to make it the best night ever.
But I played it cool. “Sure. I’m not doing much else tonight. A Braves game sounds fun.”
“Good.” Cane took a step forward and tossed one of the hats my way. “Bought this for you. You don’t have to wear it. Just figured you’d like it.” He smiled and shrugged as I held the hat to my chest.
“I’ll consider it,” I teased, but deep inside I was beaming like a ray of sunshine. I headed upstairs as Dad started talking about the game and the rival team. That would spare me a good twenty minutes.
I washed up quickly and changed into a pair of jean shorts and a white shirt. I looked at the hat on the bed that Cane had just given to me. I wasn’t a huge hat person. The only time I’d worn them was for softball practice or games, and I hated them because they made my head hot and my hair would always get a matted ring where it pressed against my head.
But this, like the notebooks, pens, and chocolates, was a gift. And, whether he knew it or not, I cherished his gifts. So I brushed my hair until it was smooth and put on the hat.
When I went downstairs, Dad and Cane were standing by the door waiting. Cane saw me first, and his eyes lit up, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually worn it.
“Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t trash it,” he laughed. I blushed and tried to hide it. “You all set?”
“Yep. I’m all good.” I met up with Dad who was clearly chomping at the bit to get going. “Let’s get out of here. Love you, Mom!” I shouted toward the kitchen.
“Love you, honey! Have fun!”
We were in Cane’s Chrysler and on the way to the game in no time.
The traffic was madness, dimming the spark of my excitement just a bit, but Cane had an assigned parking spot, so that was a bonus. We didn’t have to walk a mile just to reach the stadium. With a few steps, we were in an elevator and going up.
Dad talked the most. He loved baseball games—well, let me rephrase that. He loved any sport, really. He was a die-hard sports fanatic. If there was a game on of any kind, he knew all about it and would talk about it for hours. Even tennis. He loved it all.
The private suite was a dream, spacious and equipped with comfortable chairs and cocktail tables.
It was interesting meeting the people that worked for Cane. He was clearly the star—many were eager to shake his hand and thank him for the tickets. I could tell they hardly got the chance to see him, and now that they had it, they weren’t going to pass it up.
I enjoyed watching him interact with his employees. It gave me even more reason to fall for that man. He laughed and showed interest in their families. He offered them drinks and food and didn’t mind hugging or patting them on the back. He was far from stuck-up or rude. He was the kind of boss an employee wished for. Understanding, compassionate, dedicated, and easy to talk to.
Oh, and I can’t forget to mention his charisma. His personality was made of gold, but sometimes I wondered if it exhausted him, having to be on top of things all the time. Having to stay uplifted and motivated and happy, just so everyone else in the room had the same energy. That kind of extroversion seemed absolutely draining.