by Lauren Runow
Chills run through my body as I take a shaky inhale.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have …” He leaves it hanging in the air.
“No. You should have. The anticipation makes it more fun. We’ll get there one day.”
He winks. “Yeah, we will,” he says before he runs off to the boys.
I watch as he takes the boys through multiple drills, showing them how to shuffle their feet, demonstrating how to stay in front of the ball, and even telling them tricks on how to keep the sun out of their face with a fly ball.
When he hits grounders to them, they field the balls with their gloves and then toss them to the side, straight from their gloves since he’s hitting them balls from his bucket.
When they practice pitching, he pays extra attention to give them the same courtesy by not touching the balls they pick up. And after he throws balls to them for batting practice from his bucket, he tells them to go for a water break, and then he picks up the balls within the cages, all on his own.
Seeing him go the extra mile for kids he’s never met is the cherry on top of this already-amazing man.
When the practice is over and the boys are exhausted, we all say good-bye.
When I go to do the same, he stops me. “Hey, Sharee?”
My sister nudges my arm before she grabs Matthew, and they keep heading toward their car.
I turn around. “Yeah?”
“Hang out a little. I thought I could show you some things too.”
I laugh out loud. “Just because you got me to run doesn’t mean I can hit a baseball.”
“Don’t doubt yourself. I bet you could,” he says with a grin.
“Well”—I playfully slide toward him—“if I had you as a teacher,” I say coyly.
He opens his arms to the sides. “I’m here, ready and willing.”
“Willing, huh?”
“You have no idea,” he says slowly and then tilts his head toward home plate. “Come on. I have a bat you can use that I haven’t touched in weeks.”
We go to where his stuff is, but I stay back to give him his space.
He grabs it by the barrel and hands it to me. “For you.”
I take it and step back, giving it a good swing.
His eyes light up. “You’re playing with me. You’ve done this before,” he states.
“That would be a no, but I’ve been to enough games that I can tell how to swing.”
“Then, let’s see if you can hit.” He steps back, moving closer to the pitching mound.
I hold the bat out and point it at him. “Don’t laugh.”
With hands up in surrender, he says, “Never.”
He throws the ball, and I miss by a long shot, swinging around and almost falling on my ass.
He tries to hold back his laughter. “I’m impressed. You gave it your all for sure. Keep your eye on the ball.”
“Easier said than done.” I hold the bat up again, readying myself for the next pitch.
“Stick your butt out a tiny bit,” he says.
“Like this?” I arch my back.
“A little more,” he suggests, and I do. “Now, shake it just a little.”
I start to and then stop. I stand up straight to face him. “Hey!”
He shrugs with a shit-eating grin. “Sorry, I had to. Okay, ready?” He holds up the ball.
I nod, and he throws it. I swing, and my hands sting when I hit the ball, sending it flying right back at him. He jumps and catches the ball just in time, so it doesn’t hit him across the face.
“Whoa.” He breathes out in disbelief. “Thank God I caught that. What would I have said to my new coach if I got injured?” he jokes. “Sorry, Coach, but I couldn’t catch the ball my girlfriend hit from the second pitch she’d ever had thrown at her, but, yeah, put me in on your infield, and I’ll do just fine against the biggest guys.”
He chuckles under his breath as I stand up, realizing what he said so very nonchalantly.
I tilt my head and grin when I ask, “Girlfriend?”
He smiles wide as he throws the ball up in the air only a few inches above himself before catching it again. “Yeah, girlfriend.”
He winks, and I blow a kiss his way, wishing I could kiss him for real.
12
Day 12
April 7
My phone rings, and the normal excitement I feel is nothing compared to the mindfuck I’m watching on television right now.
“Oh. My. God. Please tell me you can turn on Netflix,” I say to Drew, wasting no time.
“You too?” he says, exasperated knowing what’s to come by the talk of the show that seems to be everywhere.
“Yes, and I’m taking you down with me. This Tiger King show is unreal. Just when I think it can’t get any weirder, I start the next episode, and I was totally wrong! My mind is blown right now.”
“That’s what everyone is saying. I’m not really into watching some crazy guy with a mullet dance around with tigers.”
I slap my hand on the couch. “I thought the same thing! Their marketing for this show is nothing compared to what it is.” I press pause on my screen and sit up straighter, ready to fill him in.
I talk for twenty minutes, telling him all about Carole, who has this cat sanctuary. She’s literally doing the same thing these other two guys are, but she wants the other ones closed down and even has PETA on her side. But then I go on about how one zoo owner, Joe Exotic, has two husbands, and the other zoo owner, Doc, is basically running a harem of wives out of his zoo.
“Wait, what?” he asks, confused and as shocked as I am.
“Right?” I yell into the phone. “But then this Carole chick has a crazy past. Her husband, who was worth millions, suddenly disappeared twenty years ago, and they’ve never found his body. They think she killed him and fed him to the tigers!”
He laughs in disbelief into the phone. “This can’t be real.”
“That’s the crazy part. It totally is! And now, this Joe Exotic guy is in jail because they say he hired someone to kill Carole.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know! I’m only on episode three. You have to turn it on!”
“Hold on. Let me grab my computer,” he says begrudgingly.
“Well, shoot. I know I filled you in, but you need to start from the top. Are you ready? Do you have water, snacks, everything you need? I promise you’ll be sucked in.”
He chuckles through the line. “I think I’ll be fine.”
I take a deep inhale. “You say that now. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I tease and then think of what I just did. “Well, shoot, what am I to do now until you’re caught up, so we can watch it together?”
“How are those runs coming? Is it time to jump back on the bandwagon?”
“Ugh! You would say that. Fine.” I sigh. “The things I do for you,” I say playfully.
“Go get ’em, girl. I’ll be here, learning about your harem and tiger-feeding chick.”
“Don’t worry; you’ll thank me later.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. Have a great run.”
We hang up, and I regretfully close my laptop and head out for a run to pass the time until I can start the show back up.
Once I’m back from my run, I shower and grab some lunch. Then, I curl up on my couch and send Drew a text.
Me: Are you finished yet?
Drew: Don’t bug me.
Me: Ha! See, you’re hooked.
Drew: This show is like crack. Your description of it did it no justice.
I snort from laughing.
Me: Then, hurry up.
Drew: Then, stop texting. I keep having to press pause, so I don’t miss anything.
I sit back on my couch and start scrolling through Facebook. Every Tiger King meme I see, I stop to read it.
When I see an update about a high school friend who has COVID-19 and is being moved out of ICU, I say a little prayer for him, so thankful he’s doing well.
I check my county’s daily up
date and learn there are only eighty-eight confirmed cases. I know that seems like a lot, but when it’s compared to over a thousand in Santa Clara County and six hundred in San Francisco, we could have fared much worse.
New York is breaking my heart. My best friend lives there, and I check in with her daily as she stays homebound. They have so many cases that I can’t keep track of it anymore.
I’m searching for any news out of New York when I see the best thing ever. Every night at seven, the hospital workers change shifts, and everyone goes out on their balconies or windows, cheering for the people who are working tirelessly to help save their city.
The video I watch brings tears to my eyes. This is the America I love.
I find more stories about people coming together to support one another. Moms and daughters are making masks for everyone, and local restaurants are serving free meals to our first responders.
When I come across stories of crazies who literally cough and spit on produce or a man who even licked a bank door in Canada, I shake my head and sigh. I know this is a hard time, but people need to realize we’re all in this together. Every single one of us is affected in some way or another.
I read about how some are saying there’s a drug that’s been around for years called hydroxychloroquine, which seems to be a game changer, but then I read about how others are saying the same drug isn’t tested, so news anchors shouldn’t be talking about it.
Just when I’m about to go further down the rabbit hole on the drug and its different reports, my text alert goes off.
Drew: You do know I hate you now, right?
I take a deep breath, ridding my mind of all the stories—scary, political, fearful, hopeful, and who knows what else—that I just read on the news sites and thank God for Drew and the distraction I’ve been craving. I smile big when I pick up the phone and call him.
“It’s all your fault,” he says.
I giggle. “I tried to warn you. You don’t have to lie though. Deep down, you’re thanking the shit out of me for making you watch it because it’s the most addictive thing you’ve ever seen.”
He sighs. “Fine, you win. I need to watch more. Did you see those wedding pictures from Carole and her new husband?”
I can’t help the laugh that flies out of my mouth. “I forgot about that! What self-respecting man would do that?”
“Um, someone who knows she’ll feed him to the tigers if he doesn’t.” He pauses. “Or she’s really a dominatrix, and that’s his leash.”
“Oh my God! You’re totally onto something there!”
We both laugh.
“Okay, are you ready to move on to episode four?”
“Yes!” I say, relieved that it’s finally time. “I got lost in the hole that is the internet, looking up stuff about this virus.”
He lets out a deep breath. “It’s freaky out there.”
“At least I found out a friend of mine is out of ICU, so that’s great news.”
“Yeah, that’s awesome. A coach I had in the minor league a few years ago has it too. Last I heard, he was starting to feel better. It seems like a lot of people are fighting it and winning.”
I nod, pressing my lips together. “I weird thought today.”
“Do I want to know?” he deadpans, obviously teasing me.
It’s nice to know he’s getting to know me and my crazy ideas so well.
I chuckle. “Yes, you always want to know my thoughts because they’re brilliant and forthcoming.”
“Okay then, enlighten me, oh smart one.”
“I saw that insurance companies are going to be reimbursing premiums on car insurance because no one is actually driving now. With no one driving, then car accidents are way down. Since they won’t be paying out to fix those cars, they’re giving people the money back to help them financially.”
“Really? But then think about that. Auto body shops won’t have cars to fix.”
“Exactly. Things I didn’t think about until we were forced to sit at home. But here’s what really got me: if there are fewer accidents, that means less are dying on freeways. Did you know roughly thirty-seven thousand people are killed on freeways yearly?”
“Wow. No. That’s a lot.”
“Right? It breaks down to roughly a hundred a day. So, in a weird, twisted way, if we’re on lockdown until May first, just in the month of April, three thousand lives that would have been lost in car accidents aren’t going to happen. Well, hopefully. Some people are still on the road, so, you know …”
“But many more are dying from the virus than three thousand.”
I sigh. “I know. I was just trying to look for a silver lining. There’s always something positive you can take out of a negative situation; you just have to find it.”
“Like me meeting you,” he says breathlessly.
“Like me meeting you,” I say, matching his tone with a grin on my face.
“Okay, my silver-lining girl, let’s forget about the world’s troubles and get lost in the troubles of three other crazy lives that I didn’t even know existed until a few hours ago.”
I smile. “Let’s do this.” I press my lips together and then twist them before asking, “Do you think I could ever get you to—”
“Don’t even think about it,” he interrupts me.
“But you don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“I know! But if it has anything to do with this show, then the answer is no. Hell no actually.” He laughs.
“Fine. But remember, I got you to watch the show.”
“Yeah, I have a feeling I’m going to be giving in a lot when it comes to you.”
I gasp. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Believe me, it’s not. It’s a very, very good thing. Now, shut up and press play.”
“Bossy, bossy,” I tease.
“And you love it,” he says, and I wish I could see his face right now.
I bet, if we were in front of each other, he would have winked at me, making me all mushy inside.
I smile as I respond, “I do.”
13
Day 13
April 8
I’m watching the president’s daily briefing when I start cracking up and immediately pick up the phone to call Drew.
“Hey there,” he says, instantly melting my heart.
“Are you watching?” I ask once I recover.
“Not again …” he whines. “You can’t get me addicted to another crazy show. Tiger King was enough for a lifetime of mindfuckery.”
“Ha-ha-ha. Don’t even lie. You were just as drawn into it as I was! But no, I meant, are you watching the president’s daily briefing?”
“Oh shit. Is everything okay? What happened? Are we under attack or something?” He panics, and I can tell he’s getting up to turn on the television.
“No, silly! Nothing like that. But a reporter asked if the president would consider pardoning Joe Exotic!”
“He did not …” he says in disbelief.
“Oh, yes, he did!” I chuckle. “I guess one of his sons made a comment that he was on Joe’s side, so the reporter wondered if the president was too.”
“We’re in a pandemic that’s literally shutting down our entire world, and someone thought it was a good idea to ask that?”
“See! Everyone is addicted to this show.”
“Yeah, but come on. Please don’t tell me Trump went along with the question.”
“No.” I sigh. “He said he wasn’t familiar with the show, so he didn’t know the full story.”
“Thank God!”
“Oh, stop.” I giggle.
“What else are you doing with your day?”
“You’d be so proud of me! I fixed my sink all on my own.” I hold my head up high with a big smile even though no one’s around to see me.
“Look at you! What was wrong?”
“It was clogged. I took apart the U-thing under the sink, and when that didn’t work, I snaked out the line.”
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br /> “You? Snaked out the line?” he asks in shock.
“ ‘What, like it’s hard?’ ” I state in my best Elle Woods voice from Legally Blonde.
He chuckles, so he must get my movie reference. “I’m impressed, is all. I didn’t know I was dating such a do-it-herselfer.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I taunt.
“Yes, and I can’t wait to change that.”
Chills run through my body and lust pools in my stomach as I take a deep breath when all the ways he can learn about me swarm my thoughts.
“So, what are we watching tonight?” he asks.
The thought of sitting on the phone with him again breaks my heart. I want him closer. I want to be able to sneak glances at him when he’s not looking. I want to hear him breathe or smell his cologne even if it’s across the room.
A thought comes to my mind. “How about you come here?”
“Um …” I hear the hesitation in his voice.
“I’ll make us a picnic in my front yard.”
“A picnic?”
“Yeah. Only for dinner instead of lunch.”
“Sounds perfect. What time?”
“How’s seven?”
“I’ll see you then.”
It took time to figure out what to make us for dinner. Since this is the first time he’s going to try my cooking, I want it to be my best, but what if my best isn’t something he likes? The stress is for real. Then, add on not wanting to go to the store if I didn’t have to, and I was a ball of frustration.
After trying to put together four different meals, all missing one ingredient that was vital, I settled on lasagna after I found some ground beef in the freezer.
I’ve heard people say they slave over lasagna, but I have a recipe that is to die for and surprisingly easy to make with the no-boil noodles.
Once I’m ready to put it in the oven, I race to the shower to finish getting ready while it cooks. I spend my time picking out the perfect outfit that is both cute and comfy since we’ll be sitting on my grass in the front yard.