14. LION
Chapter fourteen
LION
I knew Tim and I had a connection the moment I saw him run out onto the baseball field that first game. His smile was like a magnet for my heart, and I just knew he was special. Important. That I had to protect him and celebrate him and make him happy. Now I can do all those things for him because he sees it, too. He sees how perfect we are for each other.
“So, you and Tim are dating now?” Mary Beth asks as she switches the coffee machine onto its clean cycle. I told her all about our dinner date with his friends, not all about what we did in the hotel room, but some of it like us kissing and him holding me all night and how he said he wished he could get the train back with me instead of traveling with the team. I wanted that, too. I wanted to spend every moment with him, but I have work, and he has training and then the games, so I will take what I can get, because what I got was incredible.
“We are, yeah. And I really hope they give him his own room in Houston, because sleeping alone in the BnB will not be nearly as much fun.”
“When will you see him again?”
“Not until the weekend. He traveled straight to Houston after last weekend’s game, then they train there for the week, and after this round, they’re back in Savannah for two weeks before they move on to Vegas.”
“That’s exciting, no getting drunk and coming back here married.”
I laugh. “Tim deserves a bigger wedding than a quick Vegas thing. Besides, you know I don’t really drink.”
“True, but I never thought you would actually be dating your dream guy either, so this could be the year stranger things happen.”
“Isn’t that a show?”
“What now?”
“Stranger Things.”
“It is but that’s not what I meant. I meant that you getting drunk and married in Vegas doesn’t really sound that strange now that you’re dating your dream Banana Ball player.”
“But I didn’t propose. You can’t get married unless someone proposes.”
“Sure, I mean, okay. Never mind. Are you almost finished with the display?”
“Yep, just the large cakes to wrap and put in the fridge. The flowers are all boxed up, too. Where are they going tonight?”
“Mrs. Garth lost her pup, Sammy, yesterday, so I thought I would drop them with her. Can you put in a few wrapped slices and a cupcake or two in as well, please?”
“Oh, how sad. Sammy was her everything. He would bark at King whenever she walked past my place. King would just sit there on the windowsill watching him until she managed to drag him away. I’ll add some of the macarons, too.”
Mary Beth heads over to see Mrs. Garth, and I walk the long way home, and by long way, I mean the nowhere near my place way that takes me past Tim’s apartment block. He isn’t there but I figure with him still away, it can’t hurt to check on the place, you know. Make sure no one is trying to break in.
I go down the alley beside his apartment building, and when I spot the fire stair ladder down, I figure I should probably just check to, you know, make sure that everything is okay with him still out of town and all. I pull the last few rungs down and climb up to the roof where Tim barbeques and hangs with his friends. The wind has blown a few of the cushions and I find a handful of rubber ducks on the ground, swept into the middle by a few nights’ worth of wind and rain, most likely. I spend a few minutes straightening things up, then set the ducks down on the coffee table, lining them up largest to smallest like a family swimming across the table’s surface. It’s nice up here. Quiet. And as the sun sets in the distance, I sit for a minute on the lounge and scroll through the videos and photos I took at last week’s games. Tim played so well, and in so many of the photos, it’s like he’s looking right at the camera. Those are my favorites. I pick one where he’s half smiling, creating a dimple in one of his cheeks. I crop the image down a little to make him centered, then post it to my feed, with the comment, Setting hearts on fire all over America. I jump into a few other logins and comment and share like always, and when I see Tim heart the share I did as Kittyball100, I immediately message him.
LION: How was training? Are you psyched for another amazing game this weekend?
TIM: I couldn’t seem to connect with the ball today at batting practice. I’m not sure what’s wrong. Maybe that home run was a one-off, never to happen again. Like what they say about lightning never hitting the same place twice. That’s how people will describe my ability to bat.
LION: You’re probably just tired. Sleeping in hotel rooms can’t be easy. I’ll have the Bed and Breakfast in Houston you can come stay at before the game. It has a huge king bed and a spa bath. You probably just need to rest.
TIM: Maybe. I don’t think I’ve ever played this bad. They’ll probably replace me this weekend, and I wouldn’t blame them. There was a reporter at training today doing interviews, too. They weren’t impressed either.
LION: You are an amazing baseball player, they won’t replace you. They know how awesome you are. Remember last year when your whole team couldn’t hit off the OG’s fast ball, you stepped up there and on the second swing clipped the ball.
TIM: It didn’t even go far enough to get me to first base.
LION: But it showed your whole team that no matter how fast they were, you could still hit them. The Monkeys and Animal Control all cheered for you, remember? The crowd, too. It was awesome seeing the OG’s faces. I think there was a picture I posted when it happened. I’ll find it and send it to you. Don’t worry, today was just an off day. You’ll be hitting every ball that comes down the line at you tomorrow, just wait and see.
TIM: Maybe.
LION: No maybe about it. I told you that you were going to hit that home run, didn’t I?
TIM: Yeah, you did. I still can’t believe that happened. I still think maybe I’m just not good enough for this.
LION: Believe it. And believe me when I tell you that tomorrow you are going to be on fire. You will smack every ball they throw at you deep into the field. You are amazing, Tim, really. You are always more than good enough. You are everything!
TIM: Thanks, Lion. I really needed this. You have no idea. I miss you out here. What time do you get here on Friday?
LION: Just before the game starts, but I’ll be there, cheering for you like always, and then after the game, when you kick their asses, you can have mine.
TIM: Is that a promise?
LION: It’s yours whenever you want it.
TIM: Deal. See you Friday.
I scroll through the images on my phone, looking for the one I was telling Tim about. When no one thought they were going to be able to rival the OG’s and then here Tim was, this blond-haired, wide-smiling Aussie strutting into the box like it was his, and when that ball went flying across the grass, the game of Banana Ball changed forever because the new guys finally knew they stood a chance. Tim did that. Now I just need to remind him.
Thankfully, my photos app stores all my images in years, then months or I might have never found it amongst the ten-thousand pictures currently on here.
But I do find it, and I text it right off to him.
LION: Never forget you changed the world of Banana Ball forever. You did that.
I head home, King greeting me with his stoic glare.
“I know I’m later than I said I would be. I’m sorry,” I say, dropping my keys in the bowl by the framed vet card signed by Tim and heading into the kitchen to grab the Kitty-Cream . “How about a treat?” I offer, and when the refrigerator door opens, the sound draws Chip and Reynolds out, too. They aren’t as patient as King, weaving in between my legs, rubbing against me as I try to walk to their bowls.
“Where is your brother?” I ask, looking at King. He turns up his nose in reply.
“You are supposed to be keeping an eye on him, you know he’s still young and doesn’t make the best choices.” King meows, and a moment later Daffin pops his head through the open window.
“Thank you. Daffin, where have you been? You know that you should be inside before it’s dark.”
I walk over and close the window, and King moves to sit beside his purple bowl, the one that’s just for him and meows again.
“Okay, but next time, you make sure he’s home before I am or I’ll have to stop leaving the window open.”
Daffin must hear me and nudges my arm as I pour the Kitty-Cream into King’s bowl, making it spill over King’s paws.
“Now look what you did,” I scold as King flicks his paws, sending a spattering of droplets across the floor. Daffin and Chip seem quite pleased by this and immediately start lapping the drops up.
At least with them distracted I can finish topping off King’s bowl while he licks himself clean, then I add a good amount to the shared bowl for the other three. Reynolds, the most patient of them all, finally stops circling my feet and sits to drink.
I order a pizza and go back through my socials, replying to people’s comments on my photos of Tim or videos of his game play. Logging out of each profile and into the next to really boost them. Tim needs this. He needs to know that people love him. That the crowd loves him, that we believe in him. He’ll see all these messages of encouragement and he’ll have the confidence to play amazing tomorrow. I just know it. I log into GettingBananad62, and heart every post before the delivery guy arrives with my pizza.
I devour half of it, then jump back on my phone. There are a heap of new people liking and commenting, too. But it could be even better. I grab the photo I sent to Tim earlier and share it again, with the caption “ A throwback to when Tim changed the game of Banana Ball, showing everyone the OG’s aren’t unbeatable.”
That has to make him see how amazing he is. It just has to.