Day 55
(Helen’s perspective)
“Hey, Dad! How’s it going?”
“I’m great, Kiddo! How are you?”
“Not bad, but I wanted to talk to you about someone.”
“Is it that Harold guy? Do you want me to take care of him? I know places where no one will ever find him.”
“No, no! Don’t do that. It’s about William. I think he has feelings for me.”
“What kind of feelings?”
“I don’t know. He’s hard to read, but I feel like he slips sometimes. When he was defending me from Harold, I told him that he should be careful of retaliation toward his truck. He said that he wasn’t in love with a truck. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but was he saying that he WAS in love with me? And when we were on stage together he said that a butterfly could catch the wind. Did he mean that I had caught him like in that he loves me? I’m just confused, and I don’t know what all this means. How does he feel about me?”
“Well, honey, I think that how he feels about you is his problem, not yours. Sweetheart, your problem is how you feel about him. Do you love him?”
Day 61 - Part 1
(William’s Perspective)
“Hey, Digger, what’s going on?” I asked.
“Not much, Mate! Who you got today?”
“Oh - were up against the Rockies today.”
“Didn't they flog ya by a fair few last time?”
“I wouldn’t say we were flogged,” I replied. It was just a bad game.
“Mate, 12 to 4 is a flogging.”
“Go away, Digger. You’re not helping. Besides, don’t you have a match on field 3 or something?”
“Right, mate - good on ya. I gotta duck off. Catch ya after the game.”
After Digger left, I returned my focus to the players. “Alright guys, let’s get some stretches in before the game starts!”
It was a quick 3 innings - well, for our side. The other team was at the plate a little longer. Score - 9 to 4.
It was between innings and I looked at the other team’s dugout to see who was next up to bat. It was their big slugger with two on base. We were looking at a potential 7 run deficit. We had two outs, but we needed our pitcher to deliver. I was about to turn to strategize with my assistant coach, when my eyes fell on Verity - in the stands for the other team.
I wondered if maybe she has a cousin or nephew or something on the other team. She waved and started walking my way. I called for a highly unusual time out.
(Helen’s perspective)
I circled the parking lot once more. My mind raced with trepidation - how would William react to me just showing up at his game. Would he be upset? We’ve never really crossed the boundaries between class and the real world. We’ve had lunch together and stuff, but mostly to keep up with class assignments. This was a first. He’d never approached me about doing anything real-life together before, and I hope this doesn’t cross a line.
Also - is he actually here? I’ve been through this parking lot twice and don’t see his - oh! There it is.
I pulled in to a spot near where his truck was and got out. Knowing I was late for the start of the game, I jogged toward the fields to see if I could find him. Scanning the two baseball fields in front of me, I spotted him leaning up against the fence in the dugout. I scoped out a premium seat in the bleachers and sat down. I didn’t know which team was Home and which was Visitor, but the Visiting team had 6 runs.
I didn’t spend all my time looking at William - but glanced over that way every so often to see if he noticed me. It took some time, but we eventually made eye contact and I waved. Oh! He looks stressed, and shocked. Ooh. Maybe this was a bad idea. I headed over to talk to him.
(William’s Perspective)
“Hey, Verity! What are you doing here?” I asked as she stood outside the dugout.
“I came to see one of your games. Are you guys the Home or Visitor team?”
“We’re the home team. I can’t really talk right now. We’re about to give up more runs. But if you’re hear for my games, you have to sit on this side. These bleachers are ours. You sit over there if you’re rooting for the other team.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“No worries,” I grinned. “Gotta get back to the game.”
Verity gave a heartfelt “Let’s go team!” To the kids in the dugout and headed up to the stands on the right side and I turned my attention back to the game.
(Helen’s perspective)
I couldn’t tell if William was glad to see me or not. He mostly just seemed surprised. I understood he was busy and surely didn’t expect to see me. I took a seat on the right side this time, and watched the game, patiently waiting for my chance to talk to William.
As I turned my attention to the field, I heard, “Strike three!” The teams switched places on the field and William’s team was at the plate. The first two batters walked, and the third struck out. The next batter also walked and William sent in a pinch hitter. The dust from the field as the batter dug in his shoe blew out toward the stands and I could smell it. Not something I was fond of, but somehow this time it smelled like victory. The batter swung. Crack! The ball flying into the outfield like a rocket to space. The center fielder was under it, but it hit the outside of his glove and fell to the ground. Two runs scored to make it 9 to 6 and the batter came in safe at second. This was getting good!
Even so, I couldn’t keep my eyes from gravitating toward William. Jumping at the hit and pumping his arms as the kids rounded the base filled me with pride. But it made me a little nervous too. Was that me being proud of a friend, or was it more? What am I feeling? It was why I was here. I needed clarity.
(William’s Perspective)
We came out of the inning unscathed as our pitcher threw fire at their slugger and set him down with four pitches. Those are moments I live for in this game.
The bottom of the inning saw more success as we scored two more runs before getting a second out. I glanced back at Verity more frequently than I probably should have. She was one of the loudest to cheer the team on, but she seemed to go from moments of excitement to moments of deep thought - looking far off into the horizon or something. I desperately wanted to know what was on her mind, but I had to focus on the game.
I turned my attention to the field. We had two outs with a runner on third. If we could get this runner home, we’d only be down by two runs! I watched the batter swing and miss at the first two pitches and shouted, “Keep your eye on it! You’ve got this!”
“Yeah! You’ve got this, number 8!!” Came Verity’s voice from the stands. A big grin crossed my face. Could she be getting into this? For just a second, my mind went there - the place I’ve never let it go. Is this what it would be like WITH Verity - if she and I were “us”? I pushed the idea out. I’d been staunch until now - but here, outside of class - it caught me off guard and the context threw me. No! I pushed the thought back behind the wall.
The ball came and there was a slight ping off the bat. The ball swirled directly in front of home plate as the runner began toward first. The catcher snatched the ball from the ground and thew hard toward first. The ball flew over the first baseman’s glove and the runner on third scored. It was 9-7!
The next batter was an out, but we were within two and we had two innings to go.
(Helen’s perspective)
It was the bottom of the 6th and the score was tied, 10-10. There were runners on first and third, but two out. “Alright you guys! You’ve got this!” I screamed louder than I had in a long time. The batter took a swing, “Strike Two!” The tension grew. Pitcher Throws! Batter Swings misses! Strike three, but the ball drops. The runner took off toward first base with the catcher struggling to find the ball. Retrieving it, he fired toward first. The runner at third crosses home - first baseman misses the ball - runner safe! The score was 11-10! Wow!
The players started to leave the field, and William took his team over to a corner of the field where he had a short chat with the team. Then he came back to the dugout.
“Hey,” he started, “How’d you enjoy the game?”
“It was amazing! But it’s over? I thought it was 9 innings.”
“Not in little league. It’s six at this level.”
“Oh, ok. Cool.” I replied.
“You know, we were losing until you came to these bleachers. Maybe you should come to more games.”
“Yeah, can you be our new coach?” Asked one of the players as he walked toward the parking lot with his mom. I chuckled and threw up my hand. “That’s what I’m talking about. High five!” The kid grinned and slapped my hand - harder than I thought he might have.
“Oi, William!” I heard from my left. I turned to see a hulking man. He had reddish hair and must have been at least 6’5” - intimidating by any measure.
“I see your boys walked it off tonight - exciting stuff. Congratulations! And who’s your mate?”
“Er..” William stammered. “Verity, this is Digger. He’s Australian, so “mate” doesn’t mean mate-mate it’s just buddy mate, mate,” he shook his head as he tried to explain.
I flushed a little, but took it in stride. “Yeah, I speak a little Australian. Even know what g’day is!”
“Blimey! Verity’s good. Nice to meet-ya.” He extended a hand, and I took it. “Likewise, I said.”
“Alright, I have to hop, but catch you at the pub tonight, William? You can bring Verity with ya.”
(William’s Perspective)
We walked off the field and I finally had a chance to chat with Helen. I walked over to her as the kids left the field, one stating “We want her for coach,” as he passed by with his mom.
“That kid’s going to be off the team,” I quipped to Verity.
“Why? I think he’s smart,” she smiled.
“Yeah. He’s one of the brighter ones. Maybe not coach, but it might be nice to have you at more of the games.”
“Oi, William!” Digger shouted from across the field. He came over, and we had a quick chat after I introduced him to Verity. Digger has always been a great friend, but in this moment, I was more interested in what Verity had on her mind - and I knew there was something on it.
“Pub tonight? Bring Verity.” I heard Digger say before I nodded, not knowing what I was agreeing to, but followed up with a quick - “I’ll text you later,” in case I didn’t like what I had just affirmed.
He left, and I turned to Verity. “So what are you doing here? How did you even know I had a game…or where to find me?”
“I looked it up!” She said.
My mind stumbled. What does this mean? Why would she even take the time to find me outside of class time? I mean we’ve had lunch before and stuff, but always school related. I was confused.
“Uh…you’re a baseball fan?”
“Don’t know much about it. I might be. That was pretty exciting.”
“Yeah, but so are the major leagues - which you can see on television…” I said, still fishing for clues.
“Well, if you’re going to make me spell it out, I wanted to see you. Away from class. I was hoping maybe we could go get something to eat. I want to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah. We can chat. I’m not doing anything, but let me text Digger. I think I might have committed to something that I’d rather not do.”
“Great! I don’t come over this way much. You know any good restaurants in the area?”
“Depends on the topic of conversation. Are you dumping me as a partner? If so, I’m going to want something that serves something ID required.”
“Nope. This is not school related at all. Let’s just say casual classy.”
Day 61 - Part 2
(Helen’s perspective)
I’m not sure where the place ended up landed on the casual/classy scale, but it didn’t matter much. I was there to figure out where I stood - and how to answer my dad’s question.
“Ok,” I told myself, “Start with something casual. Something easy, and off topic. Ease into the questions - can’t afford to spook him.”
As we sat down, I looked across at him and asked, “So how did you and Digger meet?”
“You took the time to track me down and drive all the way out here to ask about Digger??”
“Humor me.”
“So Digger and I met around four years ago. He’d just come to the states from Australia, which is pretty obvious from the accent. We met at the gym. We got to talking, and I mentioned that I coached little league. He told me that he baseball was for wimps and that he liked rugby. I gave him grace for his comment and mentioned that we had a couple of rugby leagues in the area if he’d be interested. He was, so I set him up in one. We’ve been good friends ever since - and we’ve actually helped each other out over the years in some big ways. I broke my leg a couple of years ago and was laid up for awhile. He came over 2-3 times/week to check on me to see if he could help me out with anything. On the flip side, his mom got sick and ended up in the hospital about six months ago. I gave him some money to get a plane ticket home to see her.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. How’s his mom?”
“She’s fine. The doctors figured it out pretty quickly and got it resolved.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It sounds like you and Digger are pretty good friends.”
“Yeah - I don’t know that I’d say he’s my best friend, but he’s up there on the list.”
(William’s Perspective)
I had a tough time with casual classy. It sounded like an oxymoron to me. I nixed all of the restaurants that required a tray or a tie, and we ended up at an Italian place.
“I hope you like Italian.” - more of a question that statement.
“Oh, this will be perfect,” she responded, but again with that deep-in-thought look in her eyes.
We went in, and I braced for the question. “Lay it on me,” I thought.
“So how’d you meet Digger?”
Wait - what? Is she asking me about my Australian friend? Does she have a crush? I started to panic. I don’t know why. She’s perfectly able to find a boyfriend from Australia, fall in love, get married, ask me to be Uncle William and babysit her children… Okay. Stop. Nonsense aside. Play it cool.
“So you tracked me down so you could ask me about Digger?”
“Humor me.”
So I did. I don’t think she knew it, but I’d do anything for her at this point. I told her that Digger may or may not be my best friend, but the slot was hers if she wanted it. Well, I didn’t tell her the part about it being hers.
“So that’s how we met. We’re pretty close. Even played rugby with him once…but not twice. Never do it twice,” I chuckled, and a grin crossed her lips.
The waitress came and we ordered our food. Verity’s face turned serious, and she got that deep in thought expression.
(Helen’s perspective)
“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and I want to sort them out. You said something once that’s been on my mind a lot lately,” I started.
He quickly interjected with his hands raised, “Ok, to be honest, this feels like a pretty heavy conversation about something I was only kidding about anyway. If you think pineapple on pizza is good, I won’t judge. I take it back.”
“No - it isn’t that. Pizza is awesome with pineapple, whether you realize it or not!” I emphatically reiterated. “But there is something else I’ve been thinking about.
(William’s Perspective)
"You said something once that's been on my mind a lot lately."
"Ok, this feels like a pretty heavy conversation, and I was only kidding anyway. If you think pineapple on pizza is good, I won't judge," I noted, trying to get out of the trouble I’d put myself in the other day during lunch.
"No - it isn't that. Pizza is awesome with pineapple, whether you realize it or not!” She persisted. “Please let me get this out before you say any more. To be honest, I’m scared. I have a question for you, and I need you to answer it honestly - even if I can’t return the favor. But your answer will help me better understand myself. So please…”
I knew it was time to stop with the wisecracks, but I have to admit she had gotten me nervous.
(Helen’s perspective)
“You once said to me that you weren’t in love with your truck. What did you mean by that?”
His eyes broke connection with mine, shifting to the table. His hands fidgeted with the tablecloth as he paused - for what seemed like forever.
“I don’t love my truck. I mean I do. I do love it. It’s great! It’s a really, really sweet truck…but I’m like, not IN love with it,” he stammered.
(William’s Perspective)
This was unexpected. I stammered some nonsense about my truck, “…but I’m like, not IN love with it,” I said - praying that this line of questioning was not going where I knew it was going.
“You also said that butterflies can catch the wind. What were you trying to say there?”
“I mean - I was just trying to keep pace with your brilliant monologue. I don’t mean…could…what. I don’t know what I’m saying.” I held my breath, already knowing what the next question was.
“William, do you love me?”
"Verity - you know. I mean - listen - I, um. I mean I'm almost 20 years older than you. That fact has never escaped me."
"I know how old you are. I've known that since the day we met - and still, here I am - with you.”
I was over. I couldn’t feel anything. Since I’d met her, I knew that I was older…that there was never going to be anything there. That there couldn’t. I could be a good friend. I could help her with her career. I could defend her from Harold - but I could never love her. I never even considered the question. But now - now with her clear declaration that it didn’t matter. What happens if that barrier I put up - the one to keep myself from ever trying to persuade her to consider me relationship material. If I pulled that barrier down. What would my answer be? In my mind, I didn’t know - but that didn’t stop my mouth.
(Helen’s perspective)
“I know how old you are. I’ve known that since the day we met - and still, here I am - with you.” I said. It was true. His age didn’t matter to me. I thought at first it was a safe barrier, but it’s not a barrier that I wanted between us anymore.
I watched as his forehead fell to the heel of his hand. It shook back and forth as he seemed to contemplate the implications of what I’d just said. He didn’t look up, but he spoke.
“Verity - if you want the truth - the full truth - I won’t hold it back from you.” He raised his head and his tear-filled eyes stared straight into mine. “I trust you enough to give you that.”
“Please. I want the truth.”
“The truth is that from the moment you protected the integrity of my paisley boxers on that stage while I pretended to sing,” he chuckled and we both smiled, “I have had feelings for you. I didn’t know what they were, and I never would let them show. I made my age a barrier so that I could defend you from conversations like this. At least that’s what I told myself. But the truth - what you asked for - is that I built that barrier for me, more than you. I knew when you approached me that you were special, and it didn’t take me long to see how others could easily fall in love with you - but I knew if I did, it would be heartbreak for me. Now you’ve torn that barrier down. It doesn’t exist anymore and now I have to tell both of us the truth.
“Here’s your fettuccine Alfredo, ma’am and sir, here’s your lasagna.”
The waitress left and silence. William was the first to crack, but once he started, I had to laugh too at the timing. We spent a few seconds bemused, but the question still lingered. I looked at him, hoping not to have to ask again.
“You don’t have to ask again,” he started. “The truth for you and for me, is that I do love you. And I have other things I want to say - One is thank you for giving me permission to let myself breathe - to consider the possibility of how things might be without that barrier that has weighed on me for so long. I feel release, and I love you for saying what you said. But you also need to know that my loving you means that I want your freedom, not your capture. If you don’t feel the same - you don’t need to feel like I expect it. I desperately hope for it, but I don’t expect it. Loving you means wanting you to be happy. That is the extent of it. I have no expectations of you.”
“Ok, let’s take a breath. That was obviously a lot for you. And a lot for me, but thank you for telling me the truth.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry about the tears. It was such a relief. And even though I’m desperately wondering if you feel the same way. I am not going to ask the question. I am going to trust you to come to me if that day comes - today or any other day - and tell me so, but that decision belongs in your hands with no pressure from me.”
The energy in the room had been burned up. William had no words left, and I needed time to process what he’d said. But I wanted to be fair to him, so I answered the lingering question.
“William - I don’t know if I love you. What I do know is that I feel like we are more than friends. We have a relationship that if lost would terrify me. I can’t imagine not being around you, but I can’t say yet that I love you. What I do want to ask is if you’d be willing to explore this with me, and be patient while I figure out where I am.”
“You know that I’m all in. I can’t say all that and then jump ship. Yes, I want to explore this with you - in your time and your way.”
“I appreciate that, William - and I'm free tomorrow night.” I watched as the unsure look on his face became a small grin and his chest sank as though he finally had permission to exhale.