He shook his head and walked away. I looked over and noticed Helen flirting with a patron.
“See, Helen has confidence,” my mother said.
“She’s a freakin’ actress. Anyway, what were you gonna say about the dating site?”
“There was a message from that boy. The one who stood you up. He said his dad had—”
“Wait. How do you know about that?”
“Helen told me.”
I caught Helen’s attention and mouthed I’m gonna kill you.
She shrugged.
“Anyway,” my mother went on, “Seth’s dad had been in a car accident. He’s okay but he had to have surgery.”
All of a sudden my mom knows all about Seth’s family life? Seth, whom I don’t even know?
“So what, Mom. I’m over dating.”
“He’s very cute. He apologized profusely and said he tried calling you. That must have been around the time you changed your number. I wondered why you did that.”
“I have to get back to work.”
“Hold on. About a week ago, he messaged again and said he was hoping you still checked the site. You should go on and read the messages.”
“Maybe,” I said. I kissed her cheek and walked away.
* * *
BACK AT OUR apartment, as I put color in my mom’s hair at the kitchen table, Helen went onto my Match profile from her laptop on the couch.
“Awh,” she said.
“What! Read it to me.”
She cleared her throat and began. Her back was to me so I couldn’t see her face but she sounded emotional from the very beginning. “Dear Charlotte, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I missed our date. My dad was in a car accident about twenty minutes before I was set to leave. I was so worried about him. It was pretty bad, and he had to have surgery.” Helen started sniffling.
“What, Helen? Jeez.”
“He put up a picture of him in the hospital with his dad.”
“Keep reading.”
My mother sniffled. I spun her chair around. “Are you kidding? Are you crying, too?”
“He just seemed really worried about his dad.”
I shook my head. “Keep going, Helen.”
“Will you please consider giving it another try? And then he sent another message just last week. Hey, Charlotte, just wondering if you’re still on here? I’m giving this one last shot. I’d love to meet you. I’d love to take you out. That is, if you’ve found it in your heart to forgive me.”
I walked over to the couch while my mom was processing. “God, he is good-looking, isn’t he? Maybe I’ll message him.”
“Charlotte, my scalp is starting to burn.”
“Shit.”
I rinsed out my mom’s hair and it was definitely more orange than red. I styled it and then showed it to her in the mirror. I knew I had messed up, but she just said, “I love it!” She hugged me with fervor. Maybe she was too easy on me. Maybe my dad was right. After all, I fucked up her hair and she hugged me anyway.
After she left, Helen waved the phone in front of my face while I did the dishes. “Stop that and call him.”
“Fine.” I dried my hands and went over to the couch. “Get out of here,” I told her. She scurried off to her room, but I knew she’d still be eavesdropping.
I looked up Seth’s number and called him. He answered on the first ring.
“You called!” he said triumphantly. “Can you meet me in Lake Elsinore tomorrow, Charlotte?”
Jeez, just like that. This guy is a character. “Um, hello, hi, how are you? How is your dad?”
“Hello, hi, I’m good. My dad is good. I want to meet you. I’m glad you forgave me. In six months, no one on any website or in life has intrigued me as much as you, and I can’t get your picture out of my head. Do I sound stalkerish?”
“Yes.”
“Well, come to a baseball game tomorrow and we’ll meet and enjoy the great American pastime together.”
“A baseball game in Lake Elsinore? What, like, Little League?” Oh my god, he has a kid.
“The San Diego Padres have a minor-league team called The Storm that plays there.”
I was confused. “Is it like Bull Durham?”
“Yeah exactly!” He sounded excited that I knew what he was talking about. “You wanna go see a game?”
“Um . . .”
All of a sudden Helen popped out from behind the couch where she was hiding. She pointed to the phone at my ear and mouthed, Yes!
“Can my friend Helen come?”
“Why not? Okay, so I’ll leave two tickets at will-call for you. It starts at six. See you there?”
“Okay.”
He hung up right after that. I hit end on the phone and looked up at Helen. “What did he say?” she asked, brushing out her wet hair.
“I thought I heard you in the shower. How long were you hiding behind the couch?”
“Never mind that. What did he say?”
“Not much. We’re meeting him at a baseball game. He said he’d leave two tickets for us.”
“I can’t believe you told him I was going. I’m not going,” Helen said, rolling her eyes.
“You have to. I don’t even know him. This is the weirdest thing in the whole world. I’m gonna drive an hour and a half to go watch some minor-league baseball game with him? What if he stands me up again?”
“You went home with Adam and boned all night in his loft and you think that’s any safer than meeting a dude in a public place where there are thousands of spectators?”
“Why do you always bring up Adam?” I moved off the couch and headed to my room.
“Wait, where are you going?” She stalked after me. “I bring it up because you were different afterward and every time I mention his name, you act like it wasn’t just some one-night stand.”
I turned around in my doorway and stared her down. “I felt extremely rejected by him, okay? I don’t like talking about it.”
She put her hand on her hip. “It’s been way too long to still be thinking about him.”
“I liked him and he threw me out . . . made me feel like an idiot.”
She was looking at me cautiously, treading lightly. I knew she could hear the self-reproach in what I was saying and in how I acted right after that night with Adam. “I could tell he liked you, too, Charlie . . . as much as you liked him. It just wasn’t meant to be. Something was up with him. Who knows what.”
I nodded. Tears filled my eyes.
“Don’t feel bad anymore, okay? I’ll go with you to the game tomorrow even though I hate baseball. I’m sorry I’ve been giving you so much shit lately. That guy looks really cute in his profile. He seems to like animals and he wants to go to a ball game with you, and he didn’t even mind that you wanted to bring your friend. It’s a good start.”
“I know, but who knows anything anymore. I attract the weirdest fucking people. I’ll try to be in a better mood tomorrow.”
“Okay, you still wanna go out tonight?” she asked.
“No, I have the breakfast shift.”
Helen went off to bed and I went into my room and searched for Seth’s profile on Facebook and Instagram, but there was nothing.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY at work, I tried to ignore the first-date nerves. The dickhead who requested the al dente avocado from Helen was back, and giving me an earful about how his poached eggs were too stringy. I ran my ass off for him, trying to make sure they got his eggs right the second time, and then he tipped me a dollar twenty-five on an eighteen-dollar check.
When I told Jon-Jon, he said, “He’s a regular, Charlotte. Make the man happy. So what about the tip?”
“I work for tips, Jon. I know that doesn’t matter to you, but he’s extremely disrespectful to the waitstaff here, especially the women. You never have our backs.”
“Do you know how many people would kill to have your job and the great shifts I give you?”
It’s terrible, but I wished our closet caper would have at least h
ospitalized him for a bit of time. I wasn’t sure I could deal with another six months in that place, with those stupid gimmicks and Jon-Jon’s bad treatment.
“I don’t think we should have the tortilla flags anymore, and these outfits are lame.”
“Charlotte.” He braced my shoulders. I shuddered at his touch. “File a complaint with Jack if you’re that unhappy.”
“Maybe I will.”
“You’re phased. Get your tables closed out.”
“I made twelve bucks this morning and I had to drag my ass out of bed at five thirty.”
“Not my problem,” he said, walking away from me.
Why couldn’t I just quit this stupid job? Oh I know, because I have to pay rent.
10. Storm Chasing
Helen and I left our apartment around four and headed toward Lake Elsinore, which is in the middle of fucking nowhere. We hit tons of traffic but managed to make it to the small, minor-league stadium by six. We were both in jeans and T-shirts, trying to play the part of a couple of girls going to see the game, although we did spend a little extra time on makeup and hair. Chucky would have been proud of how thoroughly I flossed.
As we made our way toward our seats, I kept searching for a dude who looked like Seth’s profile picture, but it was hard to pick out faces among the hordes of moms, dads, and little kids.
We found our seats but there was no Seth. There was no one else even sitting in the row with us. I felt my stomach sinking. What if it was a joke some tween, bored out of his mind, decided to play on my poor rejected ass, just to see if I’d be dumb enough to drive over a hundred miles to a baseball game. I could think of nothing but the worst. My only relief was that someone had purchased our tickets for us.
“Guess he’s not here yet,” Helen said. “Kind of lame to be late to a date after you stood the girl up the first time around.”
“Maybe he hit bad traffic? He was coming from the other direction.” I couldn’t believe I was making excuses for him.
“You’re too easy on people, Char. If he’s late today, you can pretty much guarantee he’s the perpetually late type. And a horrendous flake.”
I shrugged and focused my attention on the walkway above us, hoping to see a six-foot-two, handsome guy coming our way.
“You want me to go grab us some beers?” Helen asked.
“Okay,” I said. The game was under way. The Lake Elsinore Storm were out on the field, and some team from Modesto was at bat. Helen returned a few minutes later with two large draft beers and two hot dogs.
“Yuck, you know I hate hot dogs.”
“Fine, don’t eat it; I’ll give it to Seth if he ever shows.” Helen leaned into my face. “I can’t believe he’s not here yet. What a dick.”
“I’m gonna drink this whole beer in one gulp,” I said, staring off into space. Getting stood up twice by the same person was pathetic.
“Hold on. Don’t overreact yet.” She looked at her watch. “If he’s not here by six thirty, we can get up and leave.” The Storm was up to bat and there was a player warming up in the batter’s circle. He had a perfect ass and Helen was watching him. “Or we can stay and watch the game.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Ohhh, baseball pants. Sigh.”
“It’s only the bottom of the first inning. I’ll give him until six forty-five.” I looked at the flexing muscles in the player’s arms as he did a few practice swings. “Or maybe we should just hang out for a bit and enjoy the show, like you said.”
“The game, you mean?”
“Yeah, the game.” I grabbed my beer from the cup holder and began sipping when the announcer’s voice came over the speaker.
“Leading off for the Lake Elsinore Storm, number twelve, center fielder Seth Taylor!”
“WHAT?” Helen and I both shouted. Just before Seth left the batting circle, he turned around and glanced up at me. It was the first time I saw his face in real life. He grinned and then threw his hand up in a brief wave before turning back and heading toward the plate.
If I had to guess what I looked like, I would say I probably resembled one of those Chihuahuas with the abnormally large alien eyes that you see on greeting cards.
Helen elbowed me. “Did you wave, stupid?”
My jaw was on the floor. “Oh my god. He’s literally and figuratively out of my league.”
“Oh shut up! He was totally smiling.”
“Let me watch, be quiet. Oh man, look at his butt. This is so not fair. This is God’s comedy. I have a muffin top and look at him, he’s perfect.”
“Charlotte, you do not have a muffin top. Stop that.”
Seth was down in the count when he hit a blooper deep into right field. “It’s gonna drop, it’s gonna drop!” I yelled as I got to my feet. It did drop. Seth rounded second base and headed for third. “Go, Seth! Go!” All the fans in the stadium were screaming for him. The right fielder fired it to third base but Seth dove and was safe by what looked like an inch.
“That was amazing,” Helen said. “He looks so coordinated. I bet he’s good in bed . . . all long and athletic.” She shivered. “God! Gives me the chills.”
I watched him get to his feet and brush his hands down the front of his uniform. He high-fived the third-base coach and then looked up at me with wonder, squinting. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I couldn’t wait to talk to him. He scored a minute later and jogged back to the dugout without glancing my way.
For the rest of the game he didn’t look up at me, but he did go four for four. He dove twice, fielding hits. He had an amazing game. He was easily the best player on either team.
“I can’t believe he’s not in the majors. He’s so good,” I said, right when the game ended.
A lot of fans started getting up to leave.
“What are you gonna do? He kind of tricked you. Are you okay with that?” Helen asked.
“I don’t know—hopefully he’ll come out. I feel stupid just sitting here. Though my profile did say I liked baseball.”
A second later he came out to the fence right near the on-deck circle. We were about five rows up. He clasped the chain link and leaned into it. “Hey, my little lucky charm. Get down here so we can officially meet,” he called to me.
I stood and walked down the steps, praying I wouldn’t fall, wondering what he thought of my body. “Hello,” I said when I reached the fence.
He was searching my eyes. “I’m Seth.” He wiggled his fingers through the chain link.
I reached up and shook one of his fingers like a moron. “I’m Charlotte.”
“You’re way prettier in real life.”
“I do look better when I’m not in anaphylactic shock.”
He laughed. “That’s right, the bee sting. I thought it was cute.” His mouth settled into a crooked smile.
“You’re a professional baseball player?”
“You found me out. This is the minors, though. It’s not that exciting.”
“I think it’s exciting. You told me you were in college.”
“I am.” He nodded, and then glanced back over his shoulder. “Backup plan. I could pull a muscle and this would all be over. Anyway, the pay’s not that great. Doesn’t that totally impress you?”
“You had an awesome game.”
“Best game of my life, seriously. I hereby declare you my talisman. You have to come to every game from now on and sit in the same seat and wear that shirt and don’t ever wash it.”
I laughed.
“I’m not joking. Baseball players are serious about their superstitions.”
“Maybe I will. I love talking to men through fences.”
“Ah, you’re a little live wire, aren’t you? I like funny girls. Hey, can you give me ten? I’m gonna go shower.” He pointed his thumb behind him.
“Sure, should we just wait here?”
He looked up into the stands. “That your friend?”
“Yeah, that’s Helen.”
“She’s cute.”
“You want to date her instead?�
��
“No, silly, I was thinking I’d bring my friend Roddy, the catcher. Introduce them, you know, so she doesn’t feel like a third wheel?”
“That massive, bearded bear of a man?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s a gentle giant. Except up to bat.” He rolled his eyes, understanding the double entendre. “I mean, in baseball.”
“I knew what you meant. So where are we going? We can just meet you guys there.”
“Okay, yeah. Pints and Quarts is our go-to. Let me get the address.”
“I can pull it up on my phone,” I said.
“Okay, cool. See you in a bit then.”
“Good game, Seth!”
“Thanks, kid.”
I headed back up the steps toward Helen, who was wearing one of those shit-eating grins.
“Well?” she said.
I pulled her by the arm to follow me. “Come on.”
We headed toward the parking lot. “Are you gonna tell me what he said? I’m dying here.”
“Helen!” I froze, braced her shoulders, and turned her to face me. “He doesn’t know how hot he is.”
“Oh, I love those types.”
“Right?”
“Are you gonna see him again?”
“We’re going to meet him and his friend right now.”
“His friend?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, the catcher, Roddy.”
“That big guy?”
Helen had a type. I didn’t, except that most of the guys I dated were bad for me in some way. Helen had a very specific physical type, at least when it came to the guys she dated for more than a week. They were usually on the darker side, small, thin, and foreign. She liked exotic men. Roddy was an all-American, redheaded, freckly, three-hundred-pound, six-foot-two catcher from Nebraska.
“We’re all just going as friends. It’ll be fun.”
“You wanna be friends with Seth?” she said behind me as we walked to the car.
“No, I want to be held captive by Seth. I want Seth to do very bad things to me,” I said.
When we arrived at the restaurant, the waitress seated us. We each ordered a glass of red wine and waited for the guys to get there. The door opened a few minutes later and in they walked. Several people at the bar clapped and cheered. It must have been a popular hangout for the players. Seth was wearing jeans and a plain T-shirt.
Wish You Were Here Page 7
