3
~“Nod Your Head and Give the Signal to the Pitcher”~
I surveyed the buffet table filled with food. I was getting hungry. Part of me appreciated this prestigious box, but another part could not make peace with the buffet-style table filled with food that had no business being eaten by any military man with a brain. Did caviar, scallops, crab legs and pasta count as real food at a football game? I think not. This extravagant buffet was a crime against football.
I scanned the box again. Many of the room attendees, namely the admiral, his wife, and his cronies were starting to get wasted. Their voices were louder now. An aura of gaiety had begun to fill the room.
The admiral and his crones yelled noisily as Navy intercepted the ball, the receiver running straight for the goal line. Lucas and I both sat on the edge our seats, yelling, “go” out loud like every other member of the brass in the box.
“What did I tell you Lucas? Navy’s going to win.”
“Yeah well it ain’t over until the fat lady sings.”
“You know what we need, Lucas?”
“Exactly,” he said, reading my mind before I could finish my sentence.
“Hot dogs,” I said.
“Beer,” he answered.
“After you.”
Lucas and I made our way out of the officers’ box, notably minding our manners, making sure we made small chit chat with the brass as we headed for the double doors leading to the concrete concourse. The smell of real food was only a few long strides away.
A trio of pretty girls giggling loudly were walking past us in the opposite direction, up the concourse towards the brass box-seat section we’d just left. Lucas turned around to follow them having lost sight of our beer and hot dog mission, his sense of direction compromised by hot sexy booty walking the opposite way. I grabbed his arm tightly, spinning him back around towards the aroma of the hot dogs. The girls giggled even louder. The noisy cheers from the fans in the stands sounded much closer now that we were blending in with the mainstream fans.
“Jailbait, Lucas. Focus”
“Damnnnnn. I want to scoop all three of them up at one time. The three of us can get to know each other six different ways. Good God, Mico. What has the world come to, brother? We’ve been out to sea too long.”
“You know you’re getting too old for these pretty young things. They’re probably the daughters of a few of these Army generals. Or better yet, the admiral’s kids. Trust me. I’m saving you from yourself."
"I've got no problem trying to tap that long enough to find out," Lucas said, his eyeballs still not back in his head.
"You might tap the wrong ass and get forced into a marriage you can’t get out of, brother.”
“I’m okay with that Mico. Military brats make great wives. They come ready made for the military life. That’s the kind of wife you should be looking for next time around.”
I waited for his brain to catch up to the fact I called him old. He hates it when I do that, but I owe him one for driving the nail in my coffin over Casey.
Wait for it.
“Besides, since when did this side of thirty make me old?”
And there it was.
“Since those gals are barely breaking twenty that’s when. And for the record, there will be no next time around for me, man. I’ve paid my dues to the gods of marital bliss. They can have that shit. It’s all about me now, Lucas.”
“Nah, man. Your feathers are just singed, Mico. You need to get your wings back so you can fly like the eagle we know you are. Time will heal your heart.” Lucas nudged his elbow in the side of my ribs.
“My heart was never in it. It was my dick that got caught in Casey’s vice. Once this divorce is over, I’m sending my dick to the school of the big head. He ain’t surfacing again, until he learns to behave. I’m turning my dick into a fucking commander.”
“You’re trippin’ Mico. You know Casey turned you out.”
“Fuck you man.”
We both laughed, weaving in and out of the thick crowd of fans, most of whom had the same idea as us. It was half time. Everybody in this place wanted the same thing we wanted. Food. Beer.
Lucas and I strolled towards the concession counter, having grabbed a couple of cold beers on the way down the concourse. We were waiting our turn in line to order, debating the merits of hot dogs versus Philly cheese steaks.
Just as we moved up in the line, before either of us knew what was happening, a beautiful goddess slipped in a puddle of spilled soda. She tripped in front of us wearing a pair of fuck-me-right-now-this-minute heels, one of which had broken underneath her. She fell forward, bumping into Lucas on the way down, chilidogs splattering across the front of his Navy dress whites. Her short denim skirt slid high above her caramel-colored thighs, revealing skimpy lace camouflage-print panties with Army written across the butt in pink lettering. Oh my. Victoria does indeed keep secrets. Ab-so-fucking-lutely-perfect.
“Oh my God,” she squealed, a blush spreading across her face, her big brown almond eyes looking upward, pinning Lucas in place.
Lucas reached down towards the cold wet concrete, lifting her up in his arms, looking as if he’d been hit by a meteor. An expression of wonder etched across his face, followed by one of heated desire.
I whispered to him under my breath. “Man, the stars and heaven are opening up for you now. Don’t mess this up. Do. Not. Let. Her. Get. Away.”
This chick brought real meaning to the words ‘drop dead gorgeous.’ Exotic. Nice toned legs. Big brown eyes. Long brown hair with a wispy bang that blew across her forehead with the gust of breeze around us. She had that girl-next-door look. An angel sent from heaven with a French fry hanging off the side of her long brown curls.
Lucas had lost his ability to speak. He was staring at her as if he didn’t know his own goddamned name. She was all he could see. I punched him in the side, hoping that would force him to speak his own damn name out of his mouth.
“Are you okay? Can I get you anything? More chilidogs maybe?”
Finally he speaks.
Lucas was still holding her in his arms as if he were afraid she might get away. Hell, I would have held on to her too. She looked anxious. Gorgeous, but anxious. Ready to take flight any second.
“God, I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sorry,” she muttered, breathing heavily. “I was rushing to get back to my seat. My brother Reese, he’s quarterbacking for Army. I didn’t want to miss him. Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”
Army? My boy Lucas is dancing with the devil now. My mind fast-forwarded to the notion of naval officer and army brat. How does that work exactly? If only he would snap out of this daze. I’d never seen him like this. Star struck. Lost for words. This was a first.The goddess moved to grab napkins out of what was left of her chaotic food tray, which she was still holding with one hand. She nervously began wiping his shirt, smearing chili sauce across his already stained shirt.
Lucas looked a hot mess. God, I wished I had a camera. I clinched my jaw to keep from laughing. He was oblivious to the mess she was making across his chest because his stare was completely focused on her face. She blushed as her tongue swiped her pretty pink fuckable lips. Lucas still hadn’t let go of her. She kept babbling endlessly about how sorry she was until finally more words rolled out of Lucas’s mouth.
“I’m Lucas. Lucas Cook. I’m fine. Really.”
“Riley. Riley Nelson,” she said shyly, her rich brown eyes peeking through her lashes as she glanced up at him. She reached her index finger up to his face to wipe at a blob of chili sauce that had splattered across his check. Then she stuck her chili-dipped finger in her mouth, licking it clean.
Boom. The crown jewel. Curveball. Cupid’s arrows mainlining straight to Lucas’s heart.
I watched them at distance, but I was close enough to hear Lucas mumble something to her in Italian, his Italian-American roots taking over his brain. I knew where this was going next. Tender whispers in Italian were Lucas’s signature move. N
ow we’re talking. That’s right buddy. Get in there. Get in the game. Seal the deal.
Whoa. Italian words were passing between them. Did she just answer back in Italian? I’ll be damned. She had. Goddess was rising to the occasion, catching Lucas off guard. Riley Nelson was knocking Lucas off his game. She smacked that one straight out of the park.
I was on the sidelines looking in on this scene but I was as stunned as he was. I had no idea what words were passing between them, but whatever was being said, it surely sealed the deal. These two never let go of each other.
I stood at the top of the concourse as Lucas walked Riley back to her seat, helping her carry a fresh tray of chilidogs while limping on a broken heel. It was cute to watch her painfully embarrassed as she approached her family, a tall naval officer on her heels, his head held high with chili smeared across his shirt. I watched them from a distance, exchanging polite pleasantries.
I would later learn from Lucas that Riley’s father was a lieutenant colonel in the Army, stationed at Aberdeen Proving Ground. Riley was biracial, her mother was French Canadian, which explained her exotic-looking appeal. She and her brother Reese had grown up as military brats traveling around the world to wherever her father's career led. Thus she was fluent in several languages.
It would seem marriage hadn’t only found me. Lucas had found his match. His military brat. He was a goner from the day she fell at his feet.
While Navy had lost the game that day thanks to Riley's brother Reese, the day was a win for Lucas. Because two years later, wedding bells were ringing. Lucas and Riley married in the small chapel in Annapolis. And me, I was divorced.
It would be many years before I would ever see Riley Nelson Cook again after that day. His was not the only heart she would capture.
4
~“Behind Every Great Pitcher There is a Great Catcher”~
While time and distance had Lucas and me on different continents, it hadn’t made our bond of friendship any less close. Ten years later, Lucas and I remained the best of friends. In fact, we were closer. We were both on our second tour of duty.
Changing technology allowed us the freedom of to stay in touch during our deployments. We met often whenever we could, depending on what part of the world we were occupying. We stayed in touch despite the separation of miles between us.
For years, I had been on a highly classified mission for the Secretary of Defense, a project that had kept my wings on the ground more often than I cared to be this second tour. Lucas had been stationed in Malaysia while I had been globetrotting all over the world.
I hadn’t remarried. I’d been single almost a decade, busy sowing my oats across the globe. There never seemed to be the right time or the right woman to make me want to throw a stake down, plant roots and marry again. While I had plenty of women friends to occupy my time, none of them made my world turn on its axis. It didn’t matter, though I found myself to be homesick much of the time.
I lived outside of D. C., but I was never home long enough to enjoy all that it had to offer. Being away from home so much would have been a ton harder had it not been for my friendship with Lucas. As always, he kept me grounded.
I was bummed I had missed his wedding eight years ago, unable to stand up as his best man. I was grumpy for a few weeks over having missed his vows, but my mission left me no other option. I had also missed the birth of Lucas and Riley’s two kids, but Lucas kept me in the loop. He made sure I had all the baby pictures, little league pictures, and dance recital videos. I even had pictures of Riley in various stages of both pregnancies. Lucas was a lucky man.
I had the occasional hello and good-bye by telephone a couple of times with Riley. Whenever I called, Lucas insisted she say hello, then excitedly grabbed the phone away to catch up with me. As a result, she and I never really engaged in meaningful conversation. While I didn’t know Riley well, I felt like I did. And I knew how much Lucas loved her. She was all he ever talked about. He wanted me to know everything about her.
It seemed I grew to love her as much as he. It pleased me that she made him happy. He was as much in love with her a decade later as he was the day he met her. And I could see why. She was beautiful. A great wife. A wonderful mother. Through the years she had even started to build her own food and wine business. She was creative. She had a pretty good head for business, too. With everything Lucas shared about Riley, what was there not to love? I loved Lucas. And I loved his family as if they were my own.
Lucas and I spoke in a few of our phone conversations about his family and me cruising the Mediterranean someday in the future. We fantasized about the day our careers would slow, allowing us to put our personal lives front and center. I used to tease him that we needed to speed up the plan. Time was getting away from both of us.
Lucas’s son Xavier was eight. His daughter Samantha, six. The kids were growing like weeds. From the pictures and family videos Lucas sent, Riley had grown to be more beautiful every day. I never missed a chance to remind Lucas that we needed to get our shit together, move the game plan along or else the kids would be adults. Of course he shrugged me off, declaring that he was still well on this side of forty and that age was nothing but a number. I expected that to be a declaration he would continue to make for years to come. I chuckled whenever he insisted we weren’t getting older. Nothing had changed.
Lucas and Riley had built a home in Washington Crossing, Pennsylvania, not far from Lucas’s twin sister Zoe. He was looking toward the future when he made the decision to plant roots in Pennsylvania. He had grandiose plans for his retirement. He figured that with his connections in New York he could guest lecture at Columbia University, commuting from Washington’s Crossing. The fact that his twin sister lived there made it convenient for his kids to have extended family nearby. I hadn’t given much thought to how my life would unfold after retirement. Maybe I would meet “the one” too, and settle down. Perhaps I would live somewhere close to Lucas. He and I could kick back together, play golf on the weekends, watch some football, and throw back Stolis on the regular.
Today was special for both of us. Both Lucas and I were stateside. Our schedules were intersecting. It didn't happen often, but this weekend it did. We considered it a treat to be in the same time zone together. We would make sure to take full advantage of it.
We were meeting in Philadelphia this afternoon. Lucas had phoned me yesterday to give me a heads up that he had a pressing problem of an urgent nature. Whatever was bothering him, he didn’t want to discuss it over the phone.
I figured maybe the Navy was calling on him to do something or go somewhere he wasn't happy about. We often had assignments that made us bitch and growl, but we went forward with the assignments nonetheless. For our weekend starters, we were meeting for lunch at a restaurant inside the Rittenhouse Hotel off the square in Philadelphia. Lucas said the restaurant was owned by a renowned chef who was a friend of Riley’s.
As I drove my Porsche into downtown Center City, I was starting to feel excited. Today would be a good day. Lucas and I would see each other again.
5
~“A Friend is a Person Who Will Make a Great Scoop When You Happen to Throw One in the Dirt”~
“Welcome, Sir,” the valet said as I pulled into the circular drive in front of the prestigious Rittenhouse Hotel. The young valet opened my door, his eyes widening at the shine bouncing off the sunlight as it hit my brand new white Porsche Carrera. I smiled.
"Take care of my baby," I said, as I tossed the key fob his direction.
"Not a problem sir," he said, his eyes widening as he stepped inside, running his hand across the dark wood paneled dashboard.
My love for fast cars hadn't changed through the years. I took great pleasure in putting my new wheels on I-95 today. I strolled inside the hotel, my excitement building at the thought of seeing Lucas again. It had been a little short of a year since we had seen each other last, and I was looking forward to seeing him in person. I wanted to take him for a spin in the n
ew ride. I rode up the elevator pushing the bright red button for the second floor where the Lacroix restaurant was located.
“Noah, over here,” Lucas called out, walking towards me down the long entryway lined with an etched-glass partition. Glimmering chandeliers were sparkling from above, the restaurant atmosphere inviting.
I took long strides toward Lucas, meeting him halfway, giving my best friend a huge bear hug. It was an emotional moment. Lucas and I had spoken on a regular basis, but being in the same space again was heartwarming. I had missed my friend.
“Man, you’re looking well. You haven’t aged a day since I saw you last,” I laughed.
“That was only ten months ago, Mico. Lucas laughed, falling in sync with me.
“Well in that case, neither have you, buddy. I see you still holding down the six pack,” Lucas teased, punching me in the stomach with both fists, his playful punches hitting my brick wall of muscle.
“You look good too, Lucas. Family life suits you.”
“She takes good care of me,” he said, swatting me on the back.
I noticed a hint of pain flash across his face that wasn’t matching his words. Only someone that knew Lucas well would have seen it. I wondered if everything was okay.
I sensed something was wrong, but I would have to wait for him to share with me. Lucas was the type that generally had to wind himself up before sharing his pain. Much like a slow pitch. So I waited. I waited for the curveball that I suspected was coming.
“Riley’s friend owns this restaurant. I hope you don’t mind? We’re at the Chef’s table today. We'll have a front row seat to his culinary performance. Plus, we’ll have a bit of privacy at the same time.”
“Whatever you want man. It’s your nickel.”
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