Third Base (The Boys of Summer 1)

“I need to ask you something, but I also need you to keep it between us.”

“I’m all ears,” she says, but there’s a hint of worry in her voice. I’d be worried too, I suppose, if my son said this to me.

I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly as I close my eyes and prepare for her reaction. It doesn’t matter that my mom is three thousand miles away; she’ll be giddy and want to know everything about Daisy.

“How did you know you were in love with Dad?”

The slight intake of air on the other end tells me she’s smiling. Knowing my mom the way I do, she has her fist clenched and is doing her own impression of Arsenio Hall. My only fear is that, given our history, she’ll think that it’s Sarah, and I don’t want to disappoint her.

“Is it the girl the BoRe Blogger has written about?”

I go silent and wish I could hang up on my mother. However, I’m sure that action would have her on the next plane out. I’m never too old for a spanking according to her.

“Ugh, Mom, why do you read that garbage?” It’s not all garbage. The BoRe Blogger is fairly accurate with his baseball knowledge, but the gossip part is what kills me. Why can’t the blog be about baseball and only baseball? Why must our personal lives be subject matter?

“I can’t help it. You aren’t forthcoming with a lot of information and the BoRe blog is. Besides, why are you only now telling me about this?”

“There was nothing to tell.”

“Then why do you think you’re in love?”

I stand and walk over to my bedroom window, the line of cars parked along Marlborough Street in the Back Bay make it hard for people to drive down the road. Horns honk and people yell, most of them in their Boston accent, making me laugh and cringe at the same time. I love where I live. I love my neighbors and they like me, even after my Twitter incident. My place is small, but perfect for me. I do long for a house though, with a yard… for a dog…

“Because…” I pause and try to gather my thoughts. I take a deep breath and spill. “Th

is is going to make me sound like a girl, but here it goes. When I look at her, Mom, I see sunshine and happiness. I see someone who is the light at the end of what used to be a dark tunnel. And I know that sounds cliché, but there’s no other way I can describe it. It’s the way she smiles, and the way she watches the game and can carry on a conversation. And her sports knowledge is second to none. It literally scares the living daylights out of me that she may know more about baseball than I do, so I’ve steered clear of any sports talk. I think about her every day. Everything I see reminds me of her. It’s like… I want to call her at random times in the day just to hear her voice. It’s driving me crazy, but in the best possible way. I want to touch her and by that I mean even just hold her hand… I just… ugh.”

“Ethan, it’s okay. I’m not asking about what you’ve done with her.”

“That’s just it, Mom. We haven’t even kissed. I’ve held her hand, and that’s it. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“And I’m sure she appreciates your efforts.”

Well, I’m glad someone does because my freaking Johnson doesn’t appreciate anything I’m trying to do. He’s constantly carrying a semi each time she’s around – but this is all shit I can’t say to my mom.

“Oh Ethan, it sounds like you’ve really fallen for this girl and I can guess from what you’re telling me that this is different from your relationship with Sarah. To answer your question, I just knew. Everything will just feel right, from the tips of your fingers to the end of your toes, every bone in your body will gravitate towards her. Your father was my every thought. He still is, even today.”

“Right now, Daisy is my every thought.”

“Daisy,” my mom sighs when she says her name. “I like that name.”

Me too, and I’ve been trying to come up with a nickname for her, but nothing seems to fit. I thought about calling her D, but then my jackass teammates would be saying shit like “She wants the D”. It’s funny but crude. I don’t think she’ll appreciate it too much.

Before my mom and I hang up, I tell her about my plans for tonight and promise to send her a photo of us all dressed up. She asks me to tell Daisy ‘hi’ for her and even though I agree, it’s not gonna happen. It’s far too early to bring parental units into our relationship.

The team has sent a car and driver for tonight. I couldn’t be happier because that means I can focus my attention on Daisy when she gets in the car. I thought about driving to her neighborhood after she gave me her address, but figured she’d catch me and it’d piss her off. She’s embarrassed by where she lives and I don’t know how to convey to her that shit like that doesn’t bother me.

As we drive, I’m constantly looking at my watch. I want to see how far she lives from me. I don’t know why it’s important except that I have a great amount of hope that she’s going to be spending a lot of time at my house and I want to know how long it’ll take me to drive her home every night.

Seven minutes. That is how long it took us to get from my house to hers.

“Is this it?” I ask, slightly confused.

“Yes, sir,” he says as he looks at the GPS mounted on his dashboard. I look around and nothing screams low income. I don’t know what she was going on about the other night, but this looks like a place I’d live in.

“Alright,” I say, as I get out of the car. I contemplated buying her a corsage, but felt like that would be overkill and more like prom. I did, however, buy her a birthday cake in hopes that she and I can have a little celebration tonight after the dinner.

As I approach the door I notice a keypad. I drag my finger down the names, looking for Robinson, but don’t see it. I step back and look at the address before pulling out my phone to match it with the address she sent to me. As I unlock the screen I notice a message from her. Shit, she wants me to call her so she’ll come down, instead of me going up to her door. I don’t like that it isn’t as personal as meeting her at her door, but I’m left with no choice.