by Lauren Runow
“ ’Rents?”
“Come on. We aren’t that old. Parents. ’Rents. It’s cool-dude lingo. Keep up,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Then, no, the ’rents don’t know much about my dating life.”
“Ugh! I knew you were too good to be true. You’re a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, aren’t you?”
He chuckles. “No, I’m a girls are too much of a distraction, and I have goals I need to reach kind of guy.”
“And now that you’ve reached those goals …” I leave the question open.
“Time to find out what I’ve been missing.”
My hand covers my chest as I feel my heart beat faster and faster.
“So, yeah, you’ve made my mom’s day. I’m an only child, and now that I’m home and signed to a team, she says she wants grandkids.”
“Is there a guy version of the scene from My Cousin Vinny?” I ask, trying to hold back my giggle.
“No,” he says, laughing.
“Then, that’s all you want from me? My womb, so you can get your mom off your back?” I fake being angry.
“And all you want is my toilet paper!” he fights back, and I fall over, laughing.
“Okay, you win. That was a good one.”
He pauses, and as I take some deep breaths, I have to purposely elongate my face, so my cheeks don’t hurt.
“I’m sorry, and I hate to have to run, but I have some masks to deliver. I’m going to leave yours on your front porch, okay?”
“Sounds good. Please tell your mom I said thank you.”
“I will. Bye, Sharee.”
“Bye, Drew.”
I watch as he exits his car and races toward my house, so he doesn’t get caught in the rain. I run to my door, dying to open it, throw my arms around him, and see just how wet he can really make me, but I don’t. Instead, I spy on him through the peephole, shamelessly checking out every inch of him.
“I know you’re behind that door, watching me,” he says.
“No, I’m not,” I state.
He leans up to the peephole and kisses it. It’s a quick movement, but I nearly become weak in the knees in glee. It’s our first kiss and one I’ll never forget!
10
Day 10
April 5
My phone dings with an incoming text message. I was so fond of my ringtone that I looked for what I could use for Drew when it came to text messages as well. Imagine my excitement when I found the sound of a ball being hit off a bat! Now, every time my messages go off, all I can imagine is the sight of his arms swinging a large wooden bat and then him running down the field.
I can imagine it because I’ve seen it. It’s amazing what you can find on the internet when you have all the time in the world to devote to searching—not snooping on—someone.
Okay, who am I kidding? I was totally snooping, but who wouldn’t?
I even found a YouTube video from years ago when he was being scouted. Seeing the baby-faced Drew was so adorable. They did little interviews with him and showed just about every at-bat or dig that he made at first base.
And look at me, using the word dig when it comes to catching a ball. Yeah, I looked that up too. I’m going to be the most amazing, supportive WAG there.
I can envision it now. I’ll have on his jersey—which I’ve looked for and they don’t have available yet. Don’t get me started on that. And I’m hoping he can get me close, so I can be there, cheering him on for every game I can go to. And, yes, I plan on making a sign that says, That’s my man!
I wonder if he’ll think that’s too much.
Nah, he’ll expect nothing less from me, I’m sure. Then, all the other guys will ask why their WAGs aren’t as supportive as I am, and I’ll start this huge issue between the players and their wives.
Okay, maybe that’s a little too far, I’ll admit. I’ll just start with his jersey and make my way up to the sign.
I grab my phone and swipe it on to read his text.
Drew: How about we make dinner together tonight?
Me: Of course. When and where?
Me: Oh, wait, we’re on lockdown. I’m curious, how is this going to work?
Drew: We’re going to cook together via FaceTime. I’m going to bring you the groceries and drop them off on your porch.
Me: Love it! I’ll be here.
Drew: Okay, I’ll be there shortly.
I race around and actually get ready like I would if it were a real date. I blow-dry my light brown hair and do my makeup. I know he’s seen me in my current state, but he hasn’t seen me at my best. I want to dress up to show my appreciation toward him for our so-called date.
An hour later, I hear a knock on my door. I race to it and open it up. Drew is already back to his car, but he waits for me.
I stand there in my favorite spring dress even though the rain is misting around us. A cold breeze washes over me, but it’s nothing compared to the tingles running over my body from seeing him.
His eyes light up. “You look amazing,” he says breathlessly.
I grin and blink my eyes. “Thank you. You’re not so bad-looking yourself.”
He has on my favorite cap and a fitted, long-sleeved henley that hugs him in the best way—not too tight or too loose, just perfect.
“Everything you need is in there.” He points to the bag on my porch. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
I wave, and he returns the gesture before driving off.
I grab the bag and take it inside, wondering what’s in store for tonight.
I can’t help but laugh at the items as I remove each one. He should have known I have salt and pepper, but he took no chances. Absolutely everything I need to make dinner is in this bag, including a bottle of wine.
When my phone rings, I click the green button to answer on FaceTime.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he says, and I have to stop myself from swooning since he can see me.
I’m standing at my kitchen counter, so I lean down and put my chin on my hand, tilting my head to the side. “What are we cookin’, good-lookin’?”
“I didn’t want you to have to do a ton of dishes, so I got a one-pot recipe from my mom.”
“That’s so cute,” I say.
“Oh, yeah? You like that?”
I nod with a grin on my face.
“Well, how about the fact that she’s right here, guiding me, so I don’t screw things up?”
I stand up straight, surprised and a little scared, to say the least. Meeting the parents is a big deal. Thank God I look my best for this date!
“Your mom’s there?” I ask, trying to fake nonchalance.
He flips the camera, so I can see who’s sitting at the end of the counter. “Say hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Sharee.” She waves. “We’re super excited to meet you. I’m Pamela.”
I wave into the camera. “Hello! It’s so nice to meet you too. You’ve done well, raising the young gentleman you have there.”
She smiles from ear to ear. “We’re very proud of our boy.”
Drew flips the camera back to him. “And that’s enough of that.” He chuckles nervously. “I’m going to prop the camera up right here, so we can work together. Can you see me okay?”
“Sure can.” I do the same and then reach for the bottle. “So, first step is to open the bottle of wine, right?” I ask playfully.
He points into the camera. “Yes! Okay.” He moves around the kitchen, searching for an opener.
I can tell he’s out of his element, and it’s freaking adorable. His mom finally comes to his rescue and hands him the opener. He thanks her and proceeds to open the bottle and pour some into a glass.
“Cheers,” he says as he holds it up to me.
“Cheers,” I reply, trying to hide how happy this moment is making me.
“Okay, do you have all of your ingredients ready?” he asks, rubbing his hands together like he’s about to dive deep into a project.
I nod. “The contents of your bag
cracked me up. I’m pretty sure I already had salt and pepper.”
I hear his mom laugh. “You bought her salt and pepper too?”
He shrugs. “Hey, I didn’t know. I’ve been living probably the worst bachelor life you can think of for the last eight years. I didn’t want to assume anything.”
His expression is priceless.
“Now, first things first. We have to cut the chicken into tiny pieces and cook it. Oh, wait.” He holds up a finger.
He reaches for something. When I see him slip an apron over his head and tie it around his waist, I almost fall over from laughing. The black apron has a pig on it and says, Every butt deserves a good rub.
“Where did you find that?” I ask.
He shows it off by pulling his shoulders back. “Online. I had it overnighted.”
“On a Sunday?” I question.
“Yes, thank God for Amazon. You should have seen some of the ones I found.” He nudges his thumb to where his mom is sitting. “I couldn’t get those though. You know, with my mom here and all.”
“Oh, you have to give me at least one. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”
“Mom, cover your ears,” he shouts and then leans in. “One favorite was, Once you put my meat in your mouth, you’re gonna want to swallow.”
I nearly spit out my wine, covering my mouth so I don’t choke.
“And another one said, May I suggest the sausage? And it had a big finger pointing down.” His head tilts down with a shit-eating grin on his face, and his eyebrows are raised when he looks back to the camera.
“Andrew.” I can hear his mom laugh while pretending to be offended.
“Hey, I didn’t buy those! I’m the good guy who chose this one”—he comes close to the camera—“when I really wanted the other ones.” He winks.
We continue to cook together, his mom guiding him and then him guiding me. It’s obvious where Drew gets his laid-back personality. Getting to listen to the way his mom and him interact is the best part of my night. I can tell they have a good relationship, and it makes me like him that much more.
After our chicken is cooked, we remove it, putting it on a plate, and begin to cook some onions and garlic. Once that’s nice and fragrant, we put some pasta in the same pan along with chicken broth and cover the dish, letting the pasta cook.
Drew grabs his glass and stands back to relax and take a sip.
“Okay, Pamela, it’s our chance,” I say a little louder to make sure she can hear me.
She comes into view.
“Tell me about Drew as a little boy. Oh, and pictures. Yes, I need to see them!”
She giggles as she runs her fingers through his hair, fixing a strand that’s gone wild. “Our Andrew was always a ham. Any chance he could get in front of a camera, he did.” Her face beams with pride. “I’ll make sure to have everything ready for when you’re finally able to come over for dinner in person.”
“Oh no, you won’t,” Drew states firmly. “We don’t need to have Andrew flashbacks.”
“Yes, we do!” Pamela and I say at the same time.
He laughs into his wine as he shakes his head and takes a drink. “I’m in trouble with the two of you, aren’t I?”
“Yep!” we both say.
“Is this Sharee?” I hear a man’s voice say. He walks into the frame and waves.
“Sharee, this is my dad, Tom.”
“Hi, Tom.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sharee. Sorry I’m late to the party. I was watching the golf match.”
“From 2017.” Drew laughs.
He shrugs. “It’s still golf. I didn’t remember exactly who’d won.”
Pamela grabs Tom by the arm. “Come on. Let’s leave them alone.”
“Don’t we get food too?” Tom asks.
“Yes, but it’s not quite ready yet. We’ll take ours in the living room, so they can have the kitchen.”
“Boy, you’re home for two weeks and already taking over my house again,” Tom jokes and then turns to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Sharee. Can’t wait to meet you in person.”
“You too, Tom.”
They exit, and Drew heads to the fridge to get the cheese and cream. We prepare the remaining ingredients, and once the pasta is done, we combine it all together and add the fresh spinach at the end.
The meal looks delicious and smells even better! We dish up and both grab our glasses of wine, heading to our tables.
As we eat, all I can think of is how amazing this date has been, and he’s not even physically here. It doesn’t matter though. I’ve never felt so comfortable or so engaged when first dating someone. Each day just gets better and better, and I almost never want this quarantine to end.
Almost.
11
Day 11
April 6
“I had an idea,” Drew says as I answer the phone. His excitement is contagious.
“Okay …” I say, honestly dying to know what he’s thinking.
“Is your nephew around today? If I could promise a way to not get close to him, would your sister allow you to bring him out to the junior high? There’s a batting cage in the back where we can work.”
I stop and think for a second. “Wait, are you asking to hang out with my nephew instead of me?”
He chuckles under his breath. “You would bring him, obviously.”
“Then, you’re using me to get to him?” I ask exaggeratedly.
“No, I’m using him to get to hang out with you.”
“Okay, that’s more like it. Let me ask. I’m sure my sister is dying to get him out of the house.”
“Great! Let’s plan on one. I can meet you guys there. And hey, I know it’s kind of weird, but if you want to invite that kid from your class, too, he’s welcome.”
“Nick? I can always try. His parents think baseball is life, so I’m sure they’d be excited.”
“Because baseball is life. Don’t get that twisted.”
“Whatever you say, big man. See you soon.”
I hang up and call my sister. “Hey, would Matthew want to go play some baseball with Drew at the junior high?” I ask like I’m asking him to go for a walk, not practice with a Major League Baseball player.
The sharp laugh that escapes her lips makes me giggle. “Are you kidding me?”
“He said he’ll promise they’ll be safe.”
“I think you just made his year. I’m sure he’ll be down.”
I smile big because Drew’s made my year too.
“He said to meet him at one. I’ll see you there.”
I send an email to Nick’s parents with the invitation and details and am surprised when I hear back right away, saying how excited they are for the opportunity.
When we arrive at the junior high, Drew is there with three buckets of balls, each spread out on the dirt field.
I admire him from afar as my sister approaches me.
She stands a few feet back when she says, “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”
I scrunch my nose at her. “Do not! Okay, I totally do,” I admit with a big smile. “But look at him!”
Matthew walks up to us. “What’s up, Auntie?” He waves but keeps his distance.
I want to hug the big dude like I normally do and am sad when I can’t.
I turn to Shelly. “Nikki didn’t want to come?” I ask about my niece.
“Nah, she was happy outside drawing with chalk,” Shelly replies.
Nick and his parents show up, and we all head to the baseball field.
Drew stands with his arms open wide. “Welcome to my practice à la quarantine.”
I introduce all of them to Drew. Nick’s parents show their appreciation and talk about Nick’s goals, moving forward, while Matthew and Nick stare at him in awe. Their faces crack me up, and I’m getting a kick from just staring at them.
“Okay”—Drew slaps his hands together—“the number one goal here is that we keep our distance, which should be easy, playing baseball, but then I thou
ght, What about touching the ball?” He picks up a ball and holds it up. “So, I have three different buckets here.”
He points so we can see that one says Drew, the middle one says Matthew, and the third one says Nick.
“You are to only touch the balls in your bucket. Instead of throwing a ball back after you catch it, you just drop it to the ground next to you and pick up the ball from your bucket and throw that one instead. Does that make sense? So the other person’s ball will only touch your glove and not your actual hand.”
They both nod, and Nick’s parents smile at the lengths he’s gone to keep their son safe.
“Okay, you two go ahead and warm up. It’s good mental practice too. You have to think every time to not touch the ball that was thrown to you. Baseball is a mental game, so this is an added bonus.”
Drew continues to talk to Nick’s parents as Shelly and I sit and watch. Drew’s attention keeps turning to me, and every time he does, I can’t hide the smile on my face.
“He is so stinking cute!” Shelly says. “Do you see how he keeps checking you out?”
I grin her way. “I know. It’s been so unreal too. I’ve never gotten to know a guy like this. It’s really forcing us to talk, you know?”
She laughs out loud. “Yeah, no sex to mess things up this way.”
I groan. “That’s the part that sucks. I want to touch him. Just once.”
Her eyes widen. “You haven’t even touched?”
“Nope.” I shake my head sadly but then turn his way as I say, “His mom has a compromised immune system, so he’s keeping his distance, and he’s been getting very creative on ways to be together without being together.”
“That’s adorable. You know, I’ve always said you’ll know how a guy feels by the effort he puts into getting to know you. I’d say, he’s all in.”
I smile at her as I shrug my shoulders and head toward him.
He sees me coming and steps away to talk to me.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” I say.
“This is what I do. What I love. I’m excited you have a nephew who loves baseball.” He reaches out his arm to touch me and pulls back with a sigh. “God, I’d love to just touch you, only for a second.”