Crossing Paths

by Melanie Stinnett

  Just like yesterday, Liam is punctual to the nanosecond. His friend is going to meet us at the ballpark, so we head out, just the two of us. We arrive at Minute Maid Park, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it is freaking huge. I don’t know if my poor legs will even make it to the gates.

  When he takes out our tickets from his back pocket, I have to remind myself not to stare at his butt. As we begin to walk, Liam grasps my hand in his, locking our fingers together. He smiles down at me, and we walk hand in hand to our seats. When his friend appears, Liam drops his hand away from mine.

  “Hey, Eli.”

  “What’s up, Liam?” his friend says, giving me a questioning glance.

  “James told me last night that he couldn’t make it to the game. This is Caroline. She decided to spend a little time with us today while we enjoy some good ol’ American pastime.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Caroline. I’m not really sure how he convinced you to hang out with us two losers.” Laughing, he slaps Liam on the back before he takes his seat.

  “Me neither. I’ve never been to a game before, but I think it’ll be interesting.” I smile broadly.

  They both look at me as if I told them aliens just landed on the field. As they’re staring at me, I take in a little more of Liam’s good looks—tall, tan, and a smile worth keeping in my memory just to have around for a bad day. I can’t believe it’s possible, but he looks just as good in a casual shirt, jeans, and a ball cap as he does in business clothes. The casual look might even suit him better.

  “Never been to a game? What a shame that you’ve missed out on this until now,” Eli says, shaking his head. “We’ll be sure to give you the entire baseball experience.”

  Liam chuckles under his breath. From that point forward, every time a vendor came by, offering peanuts, beer, popcorn or anything else, Eli and Liam would tell me I had to have one to complete my experience. By the fourth inning, I was wondering how I could fit any more into my stomach. Although I think the guys realized my fullness, Eli continued to buy beer after beer after beer for me. During the seventh inning stretch, I think I just needed a stretcher.

  “Are you doing okay?” Liam asks, leaning in closely.

  I can feel his breath on my neck. With alcohol coursing through my system, I feel the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. Somehow, I fight off the request of my body and answer with words instead. “Sure, I’m just a little tired.” Although my words sound fine to me, I’m quite sure that I’m slurring.

  In the middle of the ninth inning, Liam whispers something to Eli. He simply nods and pats Liam on the back.

  “Let’s get you home, okay?” Liam says softly as he takes my hand to help me stand.

  He lets me walk up the stairs, but when we’re about halfway to the car, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me the rest of the way. Thankfully, we’re not parked too far. Resting my head against his chest, I want to take in his scent, but even the act of breathing deeply is too difficult right now. After Liam gently places me in the passenger seat, he reaches across my lap to buckle my seatbelt, and then he slightly reclines the seat.

  When we get to the apartment, I’m able to walk although not very well. Liam unlocks the door and leads me to my room.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asks with concern in his eyes.

  “Yeah, I’ll sleep it off. Do you want to sleep with me?” Ugh. I close my eyes for a moment, cursing beer and baseball for turning me into a blubbering lunatic.

  Liam grins, turning his head away from me. I think I hear him laugh.

  He looks back toward me. “You should get some sleep. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow. Mom, June, and Addison will be back from their trip.” He brushes a stray hair away from my face and kisses my forehead. Then, he’s gone.

  I am definitely an idiot. My second date with the guy and I get drunk to the point of not being able to walk on my own. He didn’t even kiss my cheek before he left. He obviously didn’t want his friend to know we were together since he barely touched me during the game. Maybe he’s realizing that I’m not quite his type. Maybe he sees me more as a friend. Or maybe he thinks I’m not even worth that.

  Saturday

  Thinking about the last twenty-four hours, I walk through the glass door of the apartment building. As I rest my body against the brick wall, I lean my head back, look up into the darkening sky, and smile. The Caroline I saw last night was amazing. She was smart, funny, beautiful, and sweet. She interacted with people from all different professions, and she held her own in every conversation. When my kiss landed on her cheek at the end of the night, it was like fire melting my resolve. I was lucky to have made it back to my car without turning around to knock down her door.

  Today, she showed all those traits again but with a carefree demeanor. She got along with Eli like they had been friends for years. Throughout the game, she cheered for both teams even though people around us were giving her funny looks. I knew she was starting to get a little tipsy, but I had no idea she wouldn’t be able to walk when we left. As I carried her to the car, I could feel her warm breath on my neck. Again, I don’t know how I put her in my car without taking her lips in mine. I know it was the alcohol talking, but when she asked if I wanted to sleep with her, it took all my strength just to walk away.

  Tomorrow, we’ll all be having dinner at my parents’ house again. I was hoping to talk with Caroline tonight about telling June that we had been on a couple of dates. I don’t want things to get weird when we’re around my family. Maybe we’ll get the chance to talk before June gets back from the lake.

  Sunday

  In general, our trip to the lake is uneventful and wonderful—minus my constant thoughts of Cohen and my dread for what might happen on Monday.

  Sunday morning, we pack up and head back home. Mom has been fawning over me a little too much this weekend, and I know she and Addison are ready to pounce.

  Mom glances back at me over the passenger seat. “June, are you sure you’re okay? You were in the sun all weekend, and you still look a little pale.”

  “Mom, I’m fine. I’m tired, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “How is Caroline? Are you two still getting along? What did she do this weekend? Any dates lined up this week?”

  “Geez, Mom. Could you ask any more questions without taking a breath? As a matter of fact, Caroline went on two dates with the same guy this weekend.”

  “Well, I wasn’t really asking about Caroline’s dating lineup, but good for her.”

  I just need to make something up, so she will lay off. “If you absolutely must know, I met a guy at work, and we might be going out on a date soon. We just haven’t picked a day yet.” Who knows? It could end up being true.

  “Oh well, that sounds promising.” She grins from ear to ear.

  Addison chimes in. “You know, if you want him to really notice you, you should wear more of those short skirts you have. I could let you borrow some of my expensive jewelry, too.”

  “No, Addison, I think what I normally wear along with my own jewelry is just fine.”

  “I think I’ll set you up to see George when we get home today. He’ll do wonders for all that built-up tension you have,” Mom adds.

  George is my mom’s masseuse, and he’s also her answer to the world’s problems. According to my mom, if someone can’t figure out how to alleviate the stress from life with an herbal remedy or a long walk, then George is the guy to see. Whether I was experiencing heartache from a major breakup, stress from preparing for a big test, or nerves while waiting for college acceptance letters, Mom would make an appointment for me with George. No offense to George, but sometimes, I’m more stressed after I leave his office than when I walked in. Having a random hot guy rub all over my naked body doesn’t spell relaxation to me like it does to my mom and sister.

  “We have Sunday dinner planned, and Caroline is coming over when we get home. I’m not going to leave to see George while my best
friend is sitting alone at our house.”

  “With four other people at the house, I doubt that she would feel alone.” Mom glances over to Addison, giving her a look of frustration.

  Suffocating, she is absolutely suffocating. I have never been so glad to see the entrance to my parents’ subdivision. It’s amazing how all the relaxation of the weekend is washed away by a short drive home. I can’t get out of the car fast enough.

  “Hey, June Bug,” my dad says cheerfully from behind the side fence.

  “Hi, Dad! Are you grilling dinner?”

  “Just getting started. Steaks and pork chops. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Actually, I’m starving. Let me take my things in, and then I’ll come sit with you.”

  I walk to my room and immediately collapse onto my bed. Turning to face my nightstand, I gaze at my flowers. Am I crazy? This guy sent me flowers, wrote a note that sounds like he’s excited to see me tomorrow, and I am terrified. How could he possibly have any interest in me after my clumsy introduction times two? It’s not that I’m uninterested in getting to know him, but he lives really far away. I just started a new job, a job that happens to kind of make him my boss.

  Reaching over to the flowers, I pluck the card off the holder where it sits between a white and pink peony. I run my fingers over the handwritten words. Surely, he couldn’t have written these words himself, but the words did come from him. I close my eyes and see his face, his smile, his casual walk, and the way the light glints off his dark hair. Is it too much to hope that he actually does like me and that things could work out?

  “June? Are you in here?” My mother bursts through my thoughts as she opens my bedroom door. “Are you feeling okay? Why are you lying…” Her voice trails off as she trains her eyes on the flowers in front of her. “Did you get these at the market? They’re beautiful.”

  I slip the card under my pillow, so she doesn’t ask to read it. It’s funny how her concern for my well-being is eclipsed by her curiosity. She knows good and well that I didn’t get these flowers at the market. When was the last time she saw peonies like these at our local market? And when would I have had time to go to the market? My mother is the queen of asking illogical questions in an effort to obtain information. I’ve seen this tactic in action so many times that I don’t even take the time to argue with rational thoughts.

  “Just a congratulations from work for that new contract I was telling you about.”

  Only time will tell if this answer will appease her need for juicy details.

  “How nice! Well, in that case, I’m glad we bought the good steaks.”

  I stand and allow my mother to embrace me in a warm hug.

  “Thanks, Mom. I think I’m going to run out and sit with Dad while he finishes grilling.”

  “Alright, dear. Addison and I are going to be sorting through some fall decorations. Come join us if you get bored.”

  “Sounds good, Mom.”

  Sorting through decorations sounds like a new form of torture I have no interest in submitting myself to. I step out the back door and pull a chair up close to where my dad is focused on the grill. Bear, the dog-horse, trots over and lies across my feet, his favorite spot. I lean forward, place my head in my hands, and sigh.

  “What’s wrong, June? You look a little down. You feeling okay?”

  “I guess so. Just a stressful week.”

  I tell my dad about my business trip and the new contract, leaving out any information about Cohen. Leaving his post at the grill, he leans down to grasp both my shoulders. I swear he looks like he’s going to cry. He is always so proud of me.

  One time, after I came in fifth place in a spelling bee at school, he took me out for dinner at my favorite restaurant, and he even bought me dessert. He didn’t care that I didn’t get a medal or ribbon, and he breezed right over the fact that I came in fifth out of only six kids.

  “June, that is absolutely wonderful. I am so happy for you. I knew you would be great at whatever you chose to do.”

  I bring my finger up to just below my eye and wipe away a fake tear. “Dad, it’s all because of your parenting skills and exceptional encouragement over the years,” I joke, trying to break out of this awkward moment.

  He laughs and goes back to the grill.

  “Dad, did you ever embarrass yourself when you first met Mom?”

  “Sure, I did. The first time we ever went out on a date I dropped her ice cream down the front of her dress. Then, I did the classic move, trying to clean it up with a napkin, before I realized I was rubbing my hands all over her chest. It was extremely embarrassing, but it turned out to be a great story to tell at dinner parties.” He chuckles to himself as he flips a pork chop.

  “Did you worry that she wouldn’t like you after that?”

  “I guess, but I was too smitten with her to not give it a try. A couple days later, I asked her out on another date. I promised I would keep my hands to myself, and I’d let her get her own ice cream from then on. Why do you ask? Did someone make a fool of himself, trying to impress you?” He winks.

  “Not exactly. It’s actually the other way around. My first impression wasn’t the best. I basically attacked him with a magazine. Then, I literally ran into him when we were walking into a business meeting. Later that day, he asked me to spend time with him. I don’t know if you would call it a date, but we ate lunch together, and then he sent me a note at work the other day.”

  “It sounds to me like he’s interested. I wouldn’t worry about attacking him. I am quite sure he wouldn’t mind a sweet girl like you getting his attention in whatever way you choose. If you want to continue getting to know him, just be yourself.”

  “Thanks, Dad. As always, good advice.”

  “I do what I can. You know, being a family doctor lends itself to a lot of counseling,” he says, laughing. “Go let your mom and Addison know that dinner is ready.”

  I go back inside to find them sitting in the middle of the foyer. It looks like a giant pumpkin threw up around them. I don’t envy those people who work at Hobby Lobby. This is ridiculous. Not wanting to get caught up in all the mess, I don’t say anything, and I walk back outside.

  “They’re ready when you are, Dad.” Turning to walk back inside, I hesitate. “You know, you really are the best, Dad.”

  “Don’t make me blush, June Bug,” he says, smiling. “Oh, before you go in, could you turn off the sprinkler?”

  I walk over to turn off the hose, and then I brush a quick kiss against my dad’s cheek.

  “Love you,” I say as I push against the door to the kitchen. Nothing happens, and I end up banging my shoulder into the door. I try again. Nothing. When I try the doorknob, it turns, so it’s not locked. “Dad, have you been having trouble with this door?”

  About that time, I give one more big push. The door flies open, and I fall flat on my face. Looking up toward the ceiling, my brother comes into view. He has a huge grin spread across his face. I should have known.

  Sunday

  I get up Sunday morning, go through my usual routines, and then proceed to stress out. This weekend could not have been more embarrassing. I’m trying to think of any excuse to avoid going to June’s house today, but nothing is coming to mind. Did I really let Liam carry me? Was I that pathetic? How could I go from charity event beauty one night to drunken baseball spectator the next? There is absolutely no recovery from this shame.

  To top it all off, I can’t even talk to my best friend about the situation. I am now certain a reality show should be made about my life. It could be called Undercover Idiot!!! And yes, there should be three exclamation points along with loud horns that blast for emphasis as each one shows up on the screen.

  I mope for about twenty more minutes until my phone chimes. Glancing at the screen, I see that I have three new text messages.

  Save me. We’ll be home around 3:30 this afternoon. Please don’t leave me alone. —June

  Ha! It’s funny to watch June squirm under the i
nfluence of her mom and sister. I don’t know how she grew up in the same house but ended up being so different from them. I guess I should support my best friend despite hoping to never enter their beautiful home again. I send her a quick text back.

  Late lunch with my bro at 1, and then I’ll head your way. You shall be saved. —Caroline

  Thanks is not enough. Chocolate of any kind will be rewarded upon your arrival. —June

  I scroll to the text below.

  Caroline, this is your mom. Call me when you can. —Mom

  She always sends text messages like she is leaving a phone message. Scrolling to the last message, I hesitate to open it. Of course, it’s from Liam.

  Hope you are feeling okay today. See you for dinner at the fam’s house. —Liam

  It would be more gentleman-like of him if he would stop contacting me. There’s no way he could be interested in a train wreck like me.

  I dial my mom’s number and wait for her to answer.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounds hoarse, and her normal cheery tone is gone.

  She doesn’t sound good. “Hey, Mom. I got your text. What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to say hello to my sweetest baby girl, and I wasn’t sure if you had to work on the weekends.”

  “Mom, you know you can call me anytime. I always have time for you. How are you doing? You sound down.”

  “I’m okay, just feeling tired. I think I might have caught some kind of bug that’s going around.”

  “Well, take care of yourself, Mom. I don’t want to have to call John, or better yet, fly up there and put you in line.”

  “I doubt you or anyone else could put this woman in line.”

  When she laughs lightly, it makes me smile.