by Cee, DW
“Mom, let her go. You know she’ll mope until you approve.”
“I do not mope!”
“Whatever. Is this discussion over?”
“Babs, she’ll live at Mom’s, they speak English there, she’ll be fine. Let’s give her our blessing.” Dad spoke to a hesitant Mom. “But young lady, I’m not supporting you while you gallivant around Europe next year. I’m only paying for school now. You’ll have to get a job and earn your own spending money.”
That was as good as an approval. It would probably take till I was in London for Mom to accept me leaving for another year. “Thank you, Daddy! I have a lot of money saved up already, and I’ll get a job when I get to London. I won’t waste the year away. There’s a chance I may do a little studying at Cambridge or Oxford.”
“That’s my girl. Go, enjoy life, but be productive.”
“You agree with my decision, Mom?”
“No, but the decision’s been made, already, hasn’t it, you stubborn girl,” Mom sighed.
“Thank you, Mom. I love you.” I kissed her on her cheek and walked away with a smile.
I’d leave as soon as I graduated, and nothing would hold me back. What an exciting year this will be!
January 31, 2013 A 60-Year-Old Proposal
How romantic is my future grandfather! Sir Roland Hugh Ascot III proposed to my grandmother for the second time during their sixty-year friendship. He’d been in love with her from the start and continued to love her after his wife passed away. Both Gram and Sir Roland could live the rest of their lives being in love again. The tears were falling heavily when I heard his romantic confession and proposal. It appeared the entire Reid family was blissfully in love with a mate, but me.
“Hello?” Someone’s hand kept making circles around my face in an annoying way. “Anybody home?”
“Mr. Taylor!” He was standing so close to me, I took a step back. “Can I help you?”
“You were in such a daze. I saw your face go from smiles, to tears, to something that looked close to sadness. You don’t approve of your Gram marrying Roland?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I approve. In fact, I adore Sir Roland and can’t wait to call him Grandfather. Plus, it doesn’t matter whether or not I approve. Gram is a grown woman; she can make her own decisions.”
“Then why the long face? My heart did this weird-ass somersault when I saw you go from tears of joy to tears of sadness.”
“I didn’t know you had a degree in facial expression. There were only tears of happiness.”
“Tell me one thing, Delaney. Why are you so hostile toward me?”
Why? Did I want to tell him the truth? “I’m...”
“Yes?”
“I apologize if I come off gruff. That’s not my intention. I guess I need to work on my interpersonal skills.”
“There’s not one thing wrong with your interpersonal skills. You are beautifully lively and comical with everyone, but me. I want to know why.” He was serious.
With no way out, I gave him a partial truth. “I like Max. He’s genuine, kind, and he loves my cousin. You...I’m unsure if I like so much.” (Well, it was more of a love than a like but...) “You’re hard to read, only nice on the surface, and you only love yourself.”
The partial truth turned into much more than I intended. Scared he might be upset with me, I kept looking for a diversion, or someone to shield me from the wrath headed my way. He stayed quiet; he stayed thinking. Hoping he was done with me, I started taking minor steps to the side, edging my way toward someone else’s conversation.
“Stay,” he commanded and stopped me dead in my track. “Repeat what you just said.”
“I forgot?” I squeaked out those two words and literally gave a cheeky smile.
“What makes you think you know me so well? ‘Hard to read, only nice on the surface, and you only love yourself,’ is what I believe you said.”
“I plead the fifth?!?” This time, the smile was more of an uncomfortable, uh-oh, I’m in trouble, kind of smile.
“So that’s why you’re hostile toward me? You think I’m fake and narcissistic?”
“Now you’re putting words in my mouth. I don’t believe I used such negative words.”
He laughed at my defense. “I’m going to give you a few days to come up with an explanation to your accusations. Next time I see you, you had better be able to explain why you think I’m a phony, egotistical man.”
Damn! Why couldn’t I keep my thoughts to myself?
February 6, 2013 Co-ed Softball
My girlfriend Elle accosted me at school and would not let me go till I agreed to join her and her boyfriend in a co-ed softball league. Eric and Elle started dating a few months ago, and they were the cutest couple. Elle and I became good friends this year while working on a senior English project together. Elle was an English major going into the Peace Corps for a few years, while Eric was going off to grad school somewhere in middle-America. It was unclear where Elle would be once she joined the Peace Corps, but I was secretly hoping she’d be somewhere near London so we could still hang out from time to time.
“Come on, Laney! If you don’t join, I’ll be the only girl on the team. Puleez!”
“Elle. I don’t want to play. I haven’t played softball since high school.”
“Eric is playing and he wants me to join. Come on. It’s a co-ed team, and Eric says there are plenty of single guys for you to choose from, not that that’s ever been your issue. Or we can ask William and see if he wants to play, too. Laney! Please. Help me spend more time with my boyfriend. Be a good friend.”
She took out her phone, texted, received a text and gave me a splendid smile and two thumbs up.
“What was that?”
“William wants to play.”
“Elle...! I don’t want to see him every Wednesday. We’ve been out on one date. We’re not a super-couple like you and Eric. And you know I’ve decided to leave after graduation. I can only play till late May.”
“That’s perfect. The season ends in late May.” Elle gave me the biggest hug known to womankind. “You won’t regret it. I’m told there are many hot guys on this team every year, but most girls can’t join because they aren’t good enough to play with the men.”
“You and Eric are too cute together. He’s always looking for ways to be with you. I hope one day I’ll meet a man who wants to be with me all the time, too.”
“Eric and I will be apart come this summer. That’s why we look for every which way to be together. I wish we’d met sooner, but oh well. We have to make the most of what we have.” She pulled me toward the softball field. “And you, Miss Reid, have a long line of wanna-be suitors. You just need to let them get a little closer than the 10-foot ring of fire you have around yourself.” We both laughed. “Let’s go sign up right now. Then we have a few days to get our gear together for tryouts.”
Eric met us on the intramural field and confirmed that we were the only two girls to sign up, though many were lurking around the team, already.
“I assume you know how to play softball?” Eric nervously asked. “The men are pretty competitive.”
“I played up through high school, then gave it up. I wasn’t good enough to play in college.”
“What position did you play?”
“I was a pitcher.”
“Fantastic! Elle’s a pitcher too. It’ll be a perfect matchup since most guys don’t like pitching underhand—makes ‘em feel like they’re throwing like a girl,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m not very good and I haven’t played in four years. I don’t think I’ll be much help to...”
“Hello, Delaney Reid.” Only one person in the world called me Delaney, and only one person would so confidently cut off my conversation with my friends and call my attention. I turned around to face this one person—my favorite person. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” I stuttered while saying thi
s one-syllable word. “I go to school here. What are you doing here?”
“I came down to hang with my buddy who is the new coach for the softball team. And you are here because...?”
“Because my girlfriend Elle convinced me to join the co-ed, IM softball team. Since she was going to have a blast playing with her boyfriend, she thought I may enjoy it just as much playing with a bunch of strange men.” I added sarcastically.
Elle looked a bit awe-struck as she gently demanded, “Are you going to introduce us?”
“This is Elle and Eric.”
Eric put out his hand as a greeting, and Elle coyly waved hello to Donovan.
“And this is...?” Elle was inquiring of Donovan’s name.
Shoot! I saw the smirk on Donovan’s face as I was going to have to say his name if I was going to introduce him to my friends. He thought he was soooo smart with that stupid-ass grin of his.
“And this is Mr. Taylor,” I announced.
“Mr. Taylor?” Elle asked a bit dumbfounded. “Does Mr. Taylor have a first name? Or is Taylor his first name?”
“Ask him,” I answered with a smile.
A once disgruntled Donovan cracked a huge smile and started laughing when I stuck my tongue out at him. You think you’re so smart. I will forever call you Mr. Taylor just to bug the crap out of you.
“Hey, Kevin. Can anyone join this IM team?”
“Noooooo!” I thought I was just saying this in my head, but apparently I’d said it aloud, and very out loud. Elle, Eric, and Kevin all jumped back. Donovan now held an evil grin.
“Anyone can play. It’s not a school team. There have been alums in the past. In fact, I thought about joining the team as well. We have two beautiful pitchers, and all the guys returning are good guys. It should be a fun team.”
“Count me in. I played catcher back in the day. I’ll play if I can catch for this particular beautiful pitcher,” he put his arms tightly around me, but it wasn’t the most affectionate hold. It was more of a gotcha now kind of hold.
“Great!” Elle clapped her hand. “Laney and I will be here on Friday for tryouts. This is going to be so much fun!”
FUN...?!? I didn’t need to see this man on any regular basis. I didn’t want old feelings resurfacing—or more honestly, I didn’t want to obsess anymore. I’d done it for too long.
“I’ll take you home, Delaney.”
“Thank you, but Elle is my ride. We carpool.”
Disgruntled-Donovan came back. “So carpool another day. I’m sure she won’t mind if she doesn’t drop you off at home. You and I—the fake and narcissistic one—have a little unfinished business. Let’s go grab some dinner.”
Shit. I was in trouble now. “I thought you were grabbing dinner with Kevin.”
“I’ll see you on Friday?” He turned to Kevin and got out of whatever their original plans were.
“See you tomorrow,” Elle whispered. “Damn! He’s hot! He’s hotter than hot! Forget William; hold onto this one, instead.”
I rolled my eyes while being pulled away by Donovan Taylor.
“When did you play softball?”
“From age five till about age eighteen.”
“How come I never knew this?”
I shrugged my shoulders and cut into my steak rather than answering him. There were lots of things he didn’t know about me. What made him think that he was an expert on Delaney Reid?
“What other sports do you play I don’t know about?”
“I play lots of sports you don’t know about, Mr. Taylor. You don’t have the 411 on me.”
He laughed. “You want a glass of wine? Are you even old enough to have a glass of wine? Shit, did I give alcohol to a minor the other night at your cousin’s?”
“Yes I’m old enough to drink, and yes, thank you, I’d love a glass of Cabernet.”
“Where did you learn to drink wine?” Donovan was unnecessarily baffled. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of beer at frat parties, but I can’t see you as a wine drinker.” Now that comment just pissed me off. Where did this man get off thinking I went to frat parties, I drank beer—and lots of it—and I didn’t know anything about wine? I thought about rebutting all of his statements, but decided not to. Who was I kidding? What would make me think he had complimentary thoughts of me? “Well?” He asked again after he ordered both of us a glass of wine.
“I learned to drink wine from my dad, who gave me a small cupful since I was fourteen. My father, the heart surgeon, is an oenophile. He believed everybody should know a little something about wine. Doug and I have probably been on more wine tasting jaunts than most people double our age.”
“Impressive. Though, I don’t know about Mr. Heart Surgeon, Chief of Staff, letting his fourteen-year-old girl drink.”
“It was only at home and on special occasions, like birthdays and holidays, or when he got a great bottle of wine. He would share it with all of us. Don’t go getting judgmental on my father. This Cab that you ordered is terrible, by the way.”
He only laughed as he called our server and changed the glass of wine.
“And as for the beer and frat party statement, I don’t drink beer and I’ve attended only a small handful of frat parties during my four years at school so…think what you like.”
“OK, my bad on making assumptions about you. Let’s talk about your assumptions about me.”
I immediately got defensive. “I never said you were narcissistic and I did not call you fake. Those were your words.”
“Those may have not been your exact words, but that’s pretty much what you meant. I’d like for you to explain yourself. I apologized for my incorrect assumptions about you.”
“And I apologize for my incorrect assumptions about you as well.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easily. I know you just said that. That’s not what you meant.”
“Mr. Taylor,” I sighed. “I don’t really know what I meant.” He looked up at me as though he did not believe me. “I swear! What I said the other day was not the kindest thing to say to anybody. I don’t know if I can take it back, but I also can’t pinpoint why I said those things.” Though deep inside, I knew why I said every one of those words.
It was unfair of me to call him selfish. Just because he paid more attention to Jane, who already had a boyfriend, than to me, who was single and dying for him to be my boyfriend—that did not make him selfish.
After dinner was done Donovan took me home, and I was sad to see this date end. It wasn’t a true date, but it was nice to be with him.
“You want me to pick you up from home before tryouts on Friday?”
No doubt, I wanted to be with him again. However, I didn’t think spending so much time with him was a wise choice. What meant nothing to him meant the world to me. Spending time with him always had.
“Thank you, but that’s OK. I’m going to stay at school and finish up some projects and then head straight over to the IM field.”
“Is it your carpool day again?”
“Yeah. It’s Elle’s turn to drive again.”
“Then I’ll bring you home after practice.” I was going to contest his offer, but he quickly added, “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
Thinking back on tonight, I realized this was the first night I’d ever been out with Donovan. To one of us, it was dinner, to the other of us, it was a dream.
February 8, 2013 Try-outs and Scrimmage
After a long day of school and finishing all the editing for my clients, I seriously considered not showing up for tryouts. I’d been at school since 8:00am, which meant Elle picked me up at 7:00am. I met with a professor, went to three classes, and met up with potential clients every chance I got. Since deciding to leave for London, I thought I should earn as much money as possible. Dad and Mom told me I wouldn’t be receiving an allowance once I graduated, and I didn’t think they were kidding. I needed a nest egg to last me an entire year, so
I met with students who wanted me to edit their school papers. Maybe going away for an entire year wasn’t the best idea, but I wanted this change and was looking forward to living away.
Where are you? A text from an unknown number came in.
Who is this?
Donovan, or Mr. Taylor to you.
I’m sitting on a bench trying to figure out how to get home.
Get your ass over to the IM field. Everyone is waiting for you.
I’m tired. I’ve had a long day, and I haven’t had a bite to eat. Please apologize to everyone for me.
Get your ass over here! After tryouts, I’ll take you out to eat.
I don’t want you to.
Why not?
Because...
Because why?
Just because!
Are you coming here or do I need to search all over campus for the bench you are sitting on?
Oh, all right! You’re a despot! I’ll be there in a few minutes.
“You’re quite good!” Kevin came over and patted me on the back after I pitched an inning. “Why haven’t you tried out for the college team?”
“Yeah, Laney. I didn’t realize you were such a good athlete,” William chimed in.
“I’m not that good.”
“You wouldn’t have made the starting team, but you would’ve made the team.”
“Are we done here?” Donovan asked while taking off his catcher’s uniform. Donovan caught for me, and though I was a bit rusty, we played well together.
“No,” Kevin, who ended up being the “coach” on our team, said, “we’re going to play a quick scrimmage against the other team.”
That quick scrimmage lasted till 9:30 at night. I thought I’d collapse from fatigue. Before I could get called back for anymore pitching, I grabbed my bag and hurried off with Elle.
Where the hell did you go?
Home with Elle.
Are you on the road already?
No. We are walking to the parking lot.