Mars with Venus Rising

by Hope Toler Dougherty

  John grinned. “Take your time, Winnie.” He raised darkened eyes to Penn. “I never mind waiting for a kiss.” He broke eye contact, giving Penn space to process his words.

  Jancie cackled. “Penny, don’t keep the man waiting, for heaven’s sake. Give him a thank you kiss.”

  A flush colored Penn’s cheeks, making him wish she’d obey her aunt. Her knuckles turned white around the counter top edge behind her.

  His heart panged for her discomfort.

  “She already thanked me out with Peri.”

  The relief that sagged her shoulders pierced his ego. What could he do to win her over? How could he help her trust him?

  “Pish posh. This gift deserves tons of thanks.”

  “Jancie.” Winnie howled from her chair, her hand clutching the bodice of her blouse.

  “What is it, Aunt Winnie?” Penn sprinted to kneel beside her aunt. She covered Winnie’s hand with both of hers. “What’s the matter?”

  Winnie’s eyes zeroed in on John. “What time’s the game?”

  “Aunt Winnie?” Penn felt the old woman’s forehead.

  Winnie waved Penn’s hand away. “I’m fine, honey. The game, John. What time does it start?”

  “Four o’clock, I think” He frowned. “Why?”

  She eyed her sister. “Our Women’s Missionary Board meets downtown Saturday.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t think it’s all day, is it?” Jancie sifted through a pile of papers on the counter and pulled out Sunday’s bulletin. “Now let’s see.” She scanned the announcements section. “Here it is. Supposed to be over at three o’clock.” She raised the bulletin in triumph. “Perfect.”

  “We’ll already be downtown, so we’ll just visit until game time. We’ll meet you two at the stadium.” Winnie glanced back at John. “What time were you planning to pick up Penn?”

  “How about I get here around three? That’ll give us plenty of time with traffic and parking.”

  “Fine, but I’ll—”

  John crossed his arms in front of his chest and smiled. “I’ll drive. You drove to Hartwood, remember? It’s my turn.”

  The aunts belted out another chorus of Take Me Out to the Ball Game, and the subject closed.

  ~*~

  “I’m not getting on that thing.” Stubbornness oozed from Penn’s stiff jaw, her crossed arms pressed against her pretty pink blouse. Her tennis shoes were rooted to the sidewalk.

  He had to treat her gently. John knew that. He had to reason with her. He had time. “Penn, I’m sorry, but we don’t have a choice. David’s visiting his family. Your aunts have your car while theirs is being serviced. We have to ride my bike.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “The aunts don’t have tickets. If we don’t go meet them, they don’t get to eat a hotdog behind home plate.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t want to deprive them of that experience, do you?”

  “Don’t try to guilt me into riding your motorcycle.”

  “I’m not. I know you don’t want to disappoint them.”

  She backed up another step. “You go ahead. I can watch the game on TV.”

  “Penn. Don’t be stubborn. You know you want to go.” He inched toward her, and she retreated. “Listen to me. You’ve got the wrong idea about me. I’ve told you before. I’m not a daredevil. I promise I’ll be careful, and you’ll be safe. I won’t go over the speed limit. I have a helmet for you.” He extended it toward her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not stubborn.”

  John chuckled.

  Her chin jutted forward.

  “I’m not.” She squeezed her arms tighter around her mid-section. “I’m just careful.”

  “I’m careful, too. Let me prove it to you.” He glanced up the street. “What if we take a short ride around your neighborhood? Let you get the feel of the bike.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek.

  Maybe he had a chance. “I’ll go slow. You can tap my back if you get scared, and I’ll stop.”

  Her gaze flickered away. The color rose around her cheek bones.

  Ah, maybe the bike wasn’t the only thing that made her jumpy. Maybe the thought of holding on to me made her chew her lip. Maybe she wasn’t as disinterested as she’d acted.

  “What about it? A little spin first, then we see how you’re doing?” He held out his hand. “Can we try it?”

  She hiked her purse strap higher on her shoulder but stayed put.

  “I can stow your purse in my saddlebag, OK?” He slid his helmet on and snapped the chin strap.

  Still no movement from Penn. At least she hadn’t run back into the house.

  “Come on, Penn. It’ll be great.” He offered her the helmet. “Let me help with this.”

  She allowed him to tug the helmet over her head and tighten the strap. His fingers lingered against the soft skin under her chin.

  Her eyes searched his face, but he focused on fiddling with the helmet. Her breathing sounded shallow, and the pulse in the side of her throat pumped at a crazy speed.

  John whispered, “Trust me.” He led her down the sidewalk to the bike. “Let me get on first. I’ll hold it up for you.” Sliding close to the gas tank, he gave her a wide berth on the seat and offered his hand. Hers was cold as the glass of milk he’d had for breakfast this morning. After she settled herself, he waited for her to hug his waist.

  He craned his neck behind his back and saw her left hand fisting a handful of floral shorts material. “Like this.” He pulled her arms around him, resting her hands against his stomach. There we go. That’s what I’m talking about. “Hang on to me. If you want to slow down or stop, just tug my shirt. Got it?” Interpreting the non-response as an affirmative, he eased the bike back down the driveway. Perfect.

  A beautiful day in Pittsburgh. The Pirates were on a nine-game winning streak, and Penn’s arms holding on to him felt exactly right.

  16

  Penn wobbled off the bike and let John unhook the helmet. Although she stood on firm asphalt, her entire body vibrated with the memory of the engine’s rumblings.

  He ruffled her curls crushed from the helmet. “You OK?” He studied her face. “What’d I tell you? Fantastic, right?”

  She hugged herself against the sensory overload and moved her head. Not exactly a nod or a shake.

  “You were great, Penn. You leaned to the left with me when I needed to turn left.” He shifted left. “You leaned right when we needed to go that way.” He tilted that way.

  Not wanting to end on the pavement, she’d clutched him, leaning whichever way he did. She’d closed her eyes the entire ride, trying to forget she rode the back of a two-wheeled monster. Trying to forget she was smack up against John. Impossible.

  His woodsy cologne permeated her senses. Underneath her fingertips, his strong abs demanded her attention as they rippled and rolled with each turn.

  “You’re a natural bike rider, lady. Way to go.” He held his palm high, waiting for her to hit it.

  She lifted hers about as high as her shoulder, so he lowered his hand to hers, tapped it but didn’t let go. “I’m so proud of you, Penn.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Seriously. I know you were scared, but you rode anyway. The aunts will love it.”

  He’d kissed her.

  She dragged her shaking hand from his and clutched her throat. Shaking from the ride or from his kiss? The telltale prickles of heat dotted her neck and rose to her face. Her cheek tingled where his lips touched.

  “Let’s go find your aunts.” He retrieved her purse for her.

  How could he expect her to move when she was still recovering from the ride? From his kiss?

  His kiss.

  He could expect it because the kiss was a celebratory act. An upgrade from a pat on the back. He demonstrated his pride with a peck on her cheek. No big deal.

  For him.

  “Penn?” He bent toward her again. Questions flickered in his eyes. “You OK?”

  No. She tugged the bottom of h
er blouse, fluffed the curls still clinging to her scalp. Throwing her shoulders back, she adjusted her purse. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  ~*~

  Penn spotted the aunts first. Easy as finding a spot on a ladybug. “There they are.” She pointed toward the Roberto Clemente statue to the two fans decked out from head to toe in Pirates’ paraphernalia, complete with baseball caps and black and gold shoestrings in their sneakers.

  They’d assured her wearing sports gear to a women’s church conference wouldn’t be a problem. “Dress is casual nowadays. Besides, when they ask us about our getup, we can share the news about our seats—behind home plate.”

  John scanned the crowd, following the line of her finger.

  “See the ladies reading the programs?”

  “You mean the ones with the Pirates caps, t-shirts, shorts, and waist packs?”

  “Exactly.” She stepped toward them.

  “They both got programs?”

  “It’s better that way. Believe me.”

  At that moment, Winnie turned a page, glanced up, and spied them. “Yoo-hoo, Penny. Here we are.”

  Jancie closed her book and waved as they approached.

  “Yay. You found us.” Winnie gathered Penn into a hug.

  A grin played around John’s mouth. “It was easy. You’re right where you said you’d be.” He reached into his pocket for the tickets, spreading them like a fan before them.

  Winnie tucked the program under her arm and accepted a ticket from him. “Thank goodness you remembered the tickets.” She kissed hers and wiggled her eyebrows.

  Jancie accepted the ticket with a curtsy. “John, you’ll have to give us your boss’s address so that we can write a thank you note, OK?”

  “Sure thing, but I already told him how excited you were and thanked him, too.”

  Winnie zipped her waist pack. “All well and good, but we want to send a card.”

  Penn stuck her ticket in the side of her purse. “Where’d you park?”

  “In the Sixth Street parking garage. Easy-peasy to walk right over Roberto’s bridge to the park.”

  “Roberto as in Clemente, I assume?”

  Penn nodded. “The official name now is the Roberto Clemente Bridge.”

  “We love our legends.” Jancie nodded up at the statue. “A great player. An even greater human being.” She strained toward a gate. “Let’s go get settled. I’m ready for a hotdog. Anybody else?”

  Penn laughed. “It’s not time for dinner yet, Aunt Jancie.”

  “It’s always time for a hotdog in a ball park.”

  ~*~

  John crumpled the foil hotdog wrapper and dropped it into the cardboard food tray. He contemplated the shade creeping toward first base and wished it would creep a little faster over home plate. At least a slight breeze stirred through the park making the summer afternoon pleasant. His companions, one in particular, contributed to the delightful day.

  He opened the wrapper to his second hotdog.

  Penn licked pizza sauce from the corner of her mouth.

  “This is a beautiful park. I think it may be my favorite, and I’ve watched games in several stadiums, including Fenway.”

  “I won’t disagree with you on that point, John.” Jancie dabbed mustard from her chin. “You won’t find a prettier view of the city either. Just look at that gorgeous downtown.”

  Winnie tugged a tissue from her waist pack and cleaned her glasses with it. “Don’t forget Mt. Washington.”

  “My sister loves to take out-of-town guests riding on one of the inclines to the top of Mt. Washington.”

  John squinted toward the inclines across the river. “Yeah. That view might be nice, but here, you get a ballgame with the deal.”

  “You’ll have to come to another game when there’re fireworks. It’s a spectacular show.” Penn lowered the promotional batting practice cap they’d received when they entered the gate. Cute look. Not. But at least the cap concealed her helmet-head hair-do.

  Winnie and Jancie had scrunched their original caps into their waist packs, donning the free ones instead.

  The organist signaled the starting lineup, and they joined in with the applause. The cheers rose exponentially when Neil Walker was announced for second base.

  “Did I miss something?” John’s eyes narrowed as he followed the baseballs flying from mitt to mitt.

  Jancie peered through miniature binoculars. “Neil’s a hometown boy, grew up right down the road in Gibsonia. Did he graduate with you, Penn?”

  “He graduated from Pine-Richland, two years before me. It was a big deal when the Pirates drafted him right out of high school.”

  Winnie accepted the binoculars from Jancie. “What a good boy. His mother is friends with one of the ladies in our group. Always has such nice things to say about him. About his whole family. You know, this great, big baseball star lived at home with his parents until, well, not too long ago.”

  John caught the sidelong look between Winnie and Penn and Penn’s arched brow. That exchange piqued his interest. He’d love to know what that look meant.

  ~*~

  Penn ignored the zero to zero game for a minute and watched her aunts instead.

  After finishing their hotdogs, they bought soft pretzels with mustard during the second inning. Now, at the bottom of the fourth, they munched on peanuts. Both balanced bags of peanuts between their knees, pointing to the field and sharing their considerable baseball knowledge with John.

  Accommodating, he commented on the game when they swallowed or took a breath. “You ladies certainly know your baseball. I’m impressed.” He accepted some peanuts from Winnie.

  “Fascinating game. Thinking man’s game, you know.” Jancie, never taking her eyes from the field, cracked a peanut shell and popped the nuts into her mouth.

  “You’re absolutely right.” John winked at Penn, and she dropped her peanut.

  Winnie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Here we go, boys. Let’s start something.”

  Neil Walker walked up to the plate and tapped his bat. The crowd cheered. He waited on a foul ball.

  “Way to keep your eyes on it, Neil.”

  “That’s right. Be patient. It’ll come. It’ll come.”

  Rocking on his feet, Neil raised the bat above his shoulder and whacked the next ball over the plate, a lead-off double down the left field line.

  The crowd jumped to its feet, and both aunts lost their bags as they cheered for the hometown hero.

  “That’s the way to do it. Yes, sir.”

  The next player grounded out to groans from the on-lookers, but Andrew McCutchen dropped a single into left field. Then Garrett Jones walked.

  The energy from the crowd coursed through the park.

  “Hoo, baby. Neil is ready to score, and I’m ready to see it. Bring it home, guys. Bring it home.”

  Penn chuckled, happy that the aunts were completely lost in the game. She leaned over to John and caught a whiff of his aftershave. Her arms tingled at the memory of the ride. “Can you tell they’re bored silly? Why did I think they’d have fun?”

  John grinned. “I’m enjoying watching them as much as the game.”

  Chris Snyder stretched the bat above his head, and then approached the plate. He crouched and waited for the pitch. He snubbed a foul ball to the left and watched a strike fly by him.

  “That’s OK, Chris. You take your time. Don’t swing if it don’t sing.”

  John’s laughter boomed across the rows in front of them.

  “Here we go. Here we go.”

  The pitcher elevated a change up, and Snyder capitalized on it. He swung, and the bat kissed the ball, sending it flying through centerfield.

  The crowd roared.

  Jancie snatched off her cap and swung it over her head. “That one’s in the Allegheny.”

  From her vantage point, the ball looked as if it did sink into the Pittsburgh river.

  “My goodness. Did you see that?” Winnie seized her niece’s shoulder. “A
grand slam. We saw a grand slam in person, Penn.”

  Winnie lunged toward John, teetering Penn in her wake. Winnie grabbed his midsection, jumping with him in the middle of the row.

  Jancie wiped her eyes. “How sweet, John. A grand slam.” She slumped back into her seat, fanning herself with her cap. “Oh, my. What a fabulous time we’re having. Four to zero. Four. To. Zero.” She clapped her hands like a middle school girl who’d just received tickets to see the latest pop star. “We’re on our way to a ten-game winning streak.”

  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. We’ve got five innings to go.” Penn patted Jancie’s knee.

  “Oh, ye of little faith. We just witnessed a grand slam. The boys have too much energy now to lose this game.”

  The four to zero score held until the top of the seventh when the Cubs chipped into the lead with two runs after a home run batted a double in. Another hit put a man on first. Snyder cut off the next right field hit and powered it to second base to close out the inning.

  Although the Pirates had a few hits in the following at bats, they couldn’t score from them.

  The top of the ninth breathed possibility into the Cub’s dugout when the first two at bats resulted in players on first and third. Two quick outs tempered the hope. Starling Marte extinguished any lingering hope with a sliding catch on a pop up to end the game.

  Jancie whooped as she stood. “How sweet. We swept ‘em three games. That keeps us at the front of the pack. Right, sister?”

  “Yes, indeed-y. October, here we come.” Winnie adjusted her waist pack. “John, we always watch the World Series. Every year. This year we’ll have a party if...no, when, the Pirates get into the dance. You’re invited.”

  “I told you about counting those chickens.” Penn rubbed Winnie’s back.

  “It’s called believing. Having faith. These boys have got it. You’ll see.”

  “All right. Well, now we have to think about getting home in this traffic. I guess I can ride with you and save John a trip to our house.” Penn ignored John’s quick glance in her direction.