Dad had been sober a few weeks, but nothing stayed the same very long in our family. It’s only a matter of time before the next bad thing happens.
My father’s alcoholism wasn’t a secret from Jerry. We’d grown up together and he’d seen my father’s “condition” countless times. My friend had a secret of his own—an overly strict father who didn’t seem to think twice about physical punishment. I'd seen the bruises on Jerry's arms and ran away with him when we were little, for a few minutes or hours. We had special places we’d go—a neighbor’s front steps, their backyard or basement, the corner store, or, when we were older and could drive, a quiet spot at the coast called El Diablo Beach.
I opened the door, but instead of Jerry standing there it was a woman delivering flowers.
“They’re beautiful.” Mom came up behind me. “A dozen long-stemmed lavender roses are expensive! What a statement!”
I took the roses and thanked the delivery woman.
Why did you do this, Jerry? A corsage would’ve been fine.
“What does the card say?” Mom asked.
“It says, ‘I’m looking forward to a great evening.’” I hadn’t gotten the chance to read it and until I did, I wanted the card’s contents to remain private. What I'd just said was made up.
“I’m going to put these in water.” I walked briskly to the kitchen, away from her prying eyes. I put the flowers in a vase, read the card again, hardly believing the words written on it.
Nicky,
A bouquet of lavender roses for your evening—a symbol of enchantment and love at first sight. Still, I'd love to bring another daisy to you.
Ryan.
Another joke.
In some ways, I was getting used to them.
On the other hand, what kind of insight did he have that he knew I was going out?
I started to throw the card away, but I didn’t want Mom to see it. Some inner voice whispered to me to tuck it in my journal instead. I went back upstairs to my room and carefully pressed it between the written pages of my life.
An hour later, Jerry arrived with a corsage. “Hi, Mrs. Young.” He gave Mom a hug, turned to me, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You look great.”
“You do, too. Are you ready? I thought I saw the limo next door.” I tried to hurry him along. The last thing I wanted was my mother to discover that the lavender roses weren’t from Jerry. She seemed clueless as she took our picture. We wished each other a good night and we were off to begin our evening.
Jerry and I walked arm in arm to Colleen’s house to meet the rest of our friends. We took turns taking selfies and group photos; Colleen's parents took even more pictures, adding to the total.
When I climbed into the limo, it felt like we were going on an exotic vacation. We headed for one of the old classic restaurants in San Francisco called Alfred's. It was a historic steak house—serving since 1928, and one of those classics decorated with deep reds, dark woods, leather booths, and white tablecloths. A selection of aged meats was displayed in a freezer, the walls were filled with historic artwork and posters, and several large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling all in one row.
A fully stocked bar was the crown jewel of the restaurant and sat in the middle of the room. It was old school beautiful with glass counters, huge mirrors, and traditional round leather stools surrounding it. Several tables had been put together for our group. Every detail was attended to by the waiters, making us feel special by including a round of Shirley Temples for the girls and Roy Rodgers for the boys.
We felt like adults.
After the guys had their steak dinners and the girls their salads, we were driven to The Fairmont Hotel. We all felt like we’d entered Cinderella’s ballroom, sashaying among royalty in the land of enchantment.
We mingled with other classmates, all of them excited and talking fast. Within just a few minutes, most of us were dancing underneath the shining ball that hung from the ceiling. Prisms of light spun everywhere and when Jerry lifted my hand, inviting me to dance, it was like we’d entered a magical kingdom.
I molded into his body as we danced to a slow song. I knew from the way he pressed close, his thoughts might have followed along the same lines as the ones I'd recently entertained.
Perhaps we were headed into another kind of relationship. I welcomed it. He was a tasty-looking boy, and one I thought was safe—safe was the ultimate requirement for me. Still, I wasn't certain I wanted sex before marriage, but if I had it, I was pretty sure he’d “be the one.” Jerry was a virgin like me and the new vision of being together for our first time seemed right.
After several dances, we took a break. I checked in with my girlfriends, and Jerry checked in with his bros. I wondered if the boys’ conversations were the same as the ones the girls were having.
“What hotel are you staying at tonight?” Kathie asked Marilyn.
“Union Square,” Marilyn said. “What about you?”
“Golden Gate Lodge.” Kathie replied and then whispered, “I’ve got some vodka and pot in my suitcase, so partaaay!”
“Are you and Jerry staying somewhere?” Patty asked.
“Oh, hell no," I quickly replied.
“Here.” Colleen handed me a joint. “Tuck this in your purse. It'll help you relax so you can fucking get over it.”
“Thanks, but when I get over it, I won’t need a joint.” I waved my hand. "Did you?"
“Uh, yeah, I did." She rolled her eyes. "You probably will, too. At least the first time.”
“Yeah,” Lorraine agreed. "Guys are dumbasses the first time."
“Why? Are we so much better or . . .” I left the invitation open for someone to fill me in.
They laughed and just as I wanted more answers, the “hotel” talk was done. Jerry’s arm went around my waist. I took his hand and once again, we were close together on the dance floor.
“Nicky?”
“Yeah?” I looked up at him.
“Will you spend the night with me?”
“We’ve got plenty of time to decide all that.”
“Why?" He nodded to our friends. "Everyone is spending the night together. What could be better than having sex for the first time with a friend who’s known you forever? I won’t jerk you around.”
You’ll go away and our friendship will be finished.
It seemed like he’d turned into a man right before my eyes and the uncomplicated things we'd talked about only a few days ago were long gone.
“I know you won’t mess with my head, but tonight? No way. This is too easy for those kinds of decisions. Everyone’s got stars in their eyes, we’re dressed up . . . it’s like we’re beginning our adult lives. It’s too dreamy.”
“Yeah, but . . . wouldn’t it be great to have our first time together . . . tonight?" He kissed my cheek. "I'll make sure you won't forget it."
But I don't want an experience requires me to numb myself with a joint just so I can endure it.
He leaned in and kissed me.
I closed my eyes to feel his soft lips.
“We could go out to the coast and listen to the waves,” he said, as if trying to seduce me. “I know you like that.”
“Let’s just stay here and enjoy our friends. Please. We’ll be glad in the morning we took it slow. Besides, we committed to go to a few parties after this and we'd disappoint our friends if we duck out. I promise if we still feel the same way in a few weeks, we can talk again.”
“A few weeks? I’m ready now.” The tone in his voice was commanding and he seemed irritated. "We can make an appearance at the parties and then leave."
“A whole new world is opening for us,” I reminded him. “I think . . . well, I wonder, shouldn’t we wait?”
“Until what? We're married?" he scoffed. "You're jumping ahead quite a bit, aren't you?"
God! What an ego! Is this the same boy I've known all my life?
"No! I don't mean that, Jerry. I don't want to marry before I get out of college anyway. I mean
, when we get there, we'll have hundreds of new possibilities. Shouldn't we wait and make sure the interest is still there with us? Not sure I want a quick summer fling, you know?"
"I’m not interested in anyone else. So what if we meet others in college. That's part of the experience. I want my Stanford girl now.”
But when you’re playing baseball and all those college girls come your way, and those college boys come my way . . .
“Give me some time?” That's not too much to ask, is it?
“How much time?” Jerry pushed.
“A few weeks?”
"Okay," he agreed, but his expression told me he wasn't happy.
When the evening at the Fairmont was done, we piled in the limo and attended our after-prom parties. It was after 3:00 a.m. when we said goodnight to our friends. We scattered in different directions, but the limo driver dropped Jerry and me home. As we stood on my front porch, his arms banded around me and rested on the arch of my lower back.
“I intend to explore a lot with you this summer." His voice was soft. "I won’t push, but let’s keep talking this week, okay?”
“I want that, too.”
He kissed me goodnight. It felt more than just nice. As I went up to my room, I wondered if I'd made a mistake.
I came close to running after him.
I thought about taking him in my arms, and embracing a world I’d previously pushed away just to get it the hell over with and stop being such an outsider.
Almost.
Chapter 17
The National Anthem
After graduation, Jose called me into the Goliaths management offices. The same fear washed through me as when I'd been commanded to speak with the principal. Suddenly, I felt nostalgic those days were over.
“Hey, Nicky, how's summer? Getting any rest?" Jose asked.
"Too much. I'm restless and need something to do. Got something for me?" I sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"As a matter-of-fact . . ." he smiled, playing on my weakness. "We’ve gotten a lot of great feedback from the fans about your singing and we’d like you to perform the National Anthem.”
“Just me?” I was stunned. Can I do that in front of all those people? Performing in a group is one thing, but solo?
“You’re the one who came up with the idea, put the group together, and sings—beautifully, I might add. Will you do it?”
“I’m not much for all that attention, you know.” I stalled for time. “Can I think about it?”
“I need you to make a decision now." He picked up two pieces of paper. "I have two alternates waiting to hear from me. Between you and me?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you could use a little limelight. When you created this plan you knew you’d be in front of people, so let's have your decision."
"Yeah, I did the plan," I admitted, "but as a group, not a solo."
“Listen, I know you’ve already gotten your admittance letter to Stanford. If I’m not mistaken, don’t you need to show admissions that you kept pushing and challenging yourself? Won't that go a long way?”
You know you got me with that.
“I’ll write a great letter to your professors in the business department—an even better one than I already wrote to go with your application. I'll personally sign it and offer my cell number so whoever needs to, can contact me directly.”
“All right, I can’t say no when you're willing to do all that." I wiped under my eyes making sure my mascara hadn't run. "When do you want me?”
“Next Sunday, June fourteenth,” he said firmly.
“Shoot. I wish it was a weekday.”
“Why?” He was obviously amused.
“Less people.”
“We’ve been selling out every game, so . . . Oh, and we want you to do it without music." He pushed up from his desk.
“I’ll practice every night! I could probably use my high school stage, or maybe I'll ask my friend if I can practice at one of his games. On the day of the game, who’s in charge? Where do I wait? Will someone be there I report to or will it be obvious? Do they come and get me or what?” I stood up, following his lead.
“At one o’clock, come in from the outfield and stand on the left side of the Goliaths’ dugout. Sy will be waiting for you. We’ll have a microphone set up at home plate. When you hear Carol's announcement, start whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks for this opportunity." I shook his hand. "I'm going to be nervous. What if I blow that note, you know ‘free-eee’?”
“Everyone’s nervous the first time,” he said with a bright grin. “And that note puts fear in even the most accomplished of singers. Here's a tip—most fans are just waiting for the game to start. So just think of it that way. You’ll be fine.”
After practicing all week, singing in my basement, Colleen and Jerry's houses, my bedroom and bathroom, D-Day arrived. My family came to see me perform, and my parents invited some of my aunts and uncles to come with them.
Does this mean they’re proud? I’d love to hear them say those exact words to me.
As previously instructed, I walked to the Goliaths’ dugout and waited for Sy. I fidgeted, tapped my fingers, bit my nails, and played with my hair, trying to kill time and settle my nerves.
Tommy the batboy, Darrell, and Matt leaned against the dugout railing next to me, cracking jokes and trying to distract me. They talked about everything except the task at hand.
Henry Spears, a new catcher who was recently called up from their minor league team, also joined in. We’d had fun joking around when my teammates and I performed near the bullpen area where he warmed up the pitchers.
When Sy set up the microphone, I looked at them with wide eyes and patted my heart.
"You’ll be fine,” Henry said.
“I’m shaking. What if I blow it? Especially that note ‘free-eee,’ you know? Have you ever tried that note?” It’s been on my mind ever since being in Jose’s office. I can’t let go of it.
“Well, try that old advice of visualizing everyone naked,” Henry laughed.
“Yeah, that works until it comes to my mom and dad!” We all cracked up, and I had to admit I felt better.
I looked down the third base line to check on my family.
Ryan stood at the railing. He shook the hands with my sister; obviously the two of them had been introduced, and had the attention of my parents, aunts and uncles.
Look at their big smiles. They’re nodding in agreement as he hypnotizes them with the gold dust that sprinkles everywhere when he talks. Was my name just called?
“Nick,” Matt tapped my shoulder. “You’re up.”
I walked to home plate.
The big screen showed me as I waited.
The fans stood and took off their caps.
I took a few breaths, was careful not to rush, and kept the melody even and steady. Thankfully I made it through without any mistakes. I even hit the note.
After receiving a polite applause, I mouthed “thank you” to the crowd, waved, and ran off the field. Security wanted me to go under the stadium and through the tunnels to get back to the outfield so I wouldn't delay the Goliaths as they took the field for their warm-ups. I walked through the dugout. Most of the players and coaches congratulated me and Tommy and I did a high-five.
Out of breath, I made my way to the tunnel entrance. My heart pounded. When I went around the corner, Ryan stood there as if waiting for me.
Oh, damn, my heart. Just let me get by. Please, please no more comments or jokes. My chest hurts and my head is throbbing.
“Damn, Ryan.” I was out of breath. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“What a voice. You were great out there.” When I tried to go around his big body, he stepped in front of me. His gaze was like fire as he looked into my eyes.
“Nicky . . .” It was Henry. He’d come running around the corner as if in a hurry to catch up with me. “Oh . . . I’m sorry, I . . . didn’t know you were with . . . uh, sorry." He turn
ed and went back up the stairs and into the dugout.
“Wait! Henry!” I shouted to him, but he didn’t return.
That was weird.
“He’s a little strange,” Ryan said. “Be careful with him.”
“This is a little strange if you ask me." I pointed to him and then to myself. "You're waiting in here for me? I can take care of myself. I just need to calm down and get back to my group. Let me get by and I’ll talk to you later.” I bent over and rested my hands on my thighs, trying to get my breathing under control.
Ryan put his hand on my back.
Oh, that big hand.
His eyes had a deep and beautiful expression and looked as if they were filled with light.
God, those blue eyes are lovely. Something about him makes me want to get closer . . . he keeps drawing me . . . closer.
I was confused and shaken by the handsome man in front of me. Like a child, I closed my eyes momentarily.
“How do I get to the exit door?" I pointed, as if doing so would make the way out appear for me. "Which way do I go?”
“I’ll take you. This way.” He took his hand off my back and we began walking. “I admire you so much. Since last year you’ve consumed me.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it all before from you." No more jokes. "How much longer? Security was supposed to meet me, and . . .” my heart thumped.
“I told security I’d show you out.” He put his arm around my shoulder. I thought I might collapse.
“Just let me lean against the wall for a minute,” I pleaded.
“Are you all right?” Suddenly the sexy look disappeared and concern took its place.
Those muscles could devour me. Look at those tattoos.
“Your damn arms.”
“Did I grip your shoulder too tight?"
"That's not what I . . . no." I laughed nervously; amused he didn't understand I was kidding.
"Do you need to go to the medical office?” he asked so innocently I almost giggled out loud—almost.
“I might if you don’t let me go. Singing in front of all these people shook me, and here you are," I exhaled quickly, unable to hold in my tease. "I don’t know why I’m laughing, you shit.”
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