Chapter 20
12:12 p.m.
Alex licked the last of the chocolate brownie frosting from her fingertips and flopped onto the soft blanket Mason had laid down for the picnic. Folding her hands behind her head, she tried to see shapes in the fluffy, popcorn clouds overhead.
It was something she’d done since she was a child. She loved never knowing what sort of pattern would appear next. A pirate ship perhaps? A pig wearing a top hat?
Beside her, Mason was sprawled out, his shoulder touching hers, one arm folded behind him, pillowing his head. It felt nice. Comfortable. Friendly even.
Maybe this will work, she thought optimistically. I mean, it’s okay to be in love with a friend, isn’t it? As long as I don’t screw things up by telling him?
When a cloud morphed into a boy holding a baseball, she mused aloud, “Did I ever tell you that the first baseball game I ever went to was at Fenway Park?”
“No shit?” He turned his head slightly to stare at her.
“Mmm-hmm. My father landed an adjunct professorship at Boston College one semester. A colleague gave him some tickets. It was cool.”
She smiled at the memory of her father enjoying something outside the world of academia.
“We sat really close to the dugout. I could see the players change gloves and dig into the bubble-gum bucket. And in the eighth inning, this really big guy got up to the plate. He swung that bat so hard I thought for sure the ball would end up outside the ballpark. But he only tipped it, and it thudded into the ground at his feet. He picked it up and then, casual as can be, turned and tossed it right to me.”
“Which player?”
She frowned. “He was wearing number thirty-four.”
Mason sat up so fast, she could feel the wind he displaced. “What year?” Both his tone and his eyes were suddenly intense.
“Mmm. Pretty sure it was 2011.”
“Fuck me!” He grabbed his chest like she’d given him a heart attack. “That was David Ortiz. You got a ball touched by Big Papi.”
When she blinked in confusion, he said, “Ten-time All-Star? Three-time World Series champ? Seven-time Silver Slugger winner?”
She winced and admitted, “I wasn’t much of a baseball fan and—”
“Please tell me you kept it,” he interrupted.
“Of course. It’s in a box with a bunch of other souvenirs in my parents’ basement.”
“Listen to me carefully.” He pointed at her nose. “Next time you go ’round to see ’em, you find that frickin’ ball, take it out of the box, and put it inside a plastic baseball display cube. They’re cheap and you can order ’em online.”
“Oh-kay…” She was confused about why one dirty baseball was such a big deal. It sounded like this Big Papi guy was special, but it wasn’t like he’d signed the ball or anything.
Maybe only baseball fans can appreciate its significance, she silently mused.
“Promise me,” Mason insisted, his eyebrows slammed into a V.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She used her finger to draw a cross over her chest before lifting her hand in pledge.
That seemed to satisfy him. He nodded and dug into the picnic basket for a brownie. After unwrapping it, he lay beside her and took a giant bite. The fresh smell of chocolate made her stomach rumble.
Or maybe it was the smell of him.
She wished she wasn’t so aware of him. Wished she didn’t notice every time he took a breath or made a sound.
Friends aren’t supposed to be so attuned to each other, she admonished herself. They’re not supposed to feel every move the other makes.
It was something she’d need to work on. Something she’d need to practice not doing in the weeks and months to come if she had any hope of keeping her love for him a secret.
Had she mentioned she hated secrets? Was complete crap at keeping them?
Above her, a cloud took on a recognizable shape. “Look.” She pointed. “It’s a baby elephant.”
He slid his head closer to hers so he could follow the direction of her finger. A lock of his hair tickled her cheek.
“Looks more like a baby rhino to me.” Hearing his voice so close had an unseen hand tugging at an invisible string attached to the bottom of her belly.
“Now it does.” Her voice was husky. Did he notice? “The wind cut off its trunk and shortened its ears. Fifteen seconds ago, it was definitely a baby elephant.”
“There’s a bunny.” He pointed and then licked his finger when he saw a speck of chocolate icing stuck to the tip.
The sucking sound had her heart thundering.
“It’s called pareidolia,” she said, trying to distract herself from the overwhelming urge to jump on top of him and taste the chocolate on his lips.
“What?”
She repeated the word slowly, and he pushed up on an elbow so he could frown down at her. The wind played with the wavy ends of his hair. The beard stubble on his cheeks and chin gave him a charmingly disheveled look.
Is this how he looks after sex? she wondered, then quickly reminded herself that friends didn’t contemplate how the other looked postcoitus.
“I mean what does pareidolia mean?” He absently wiped a grain of sand from her cheek, and that’s all it took for her to lose her breath. “Is it a name for the clouds? Or their shapes?”
“Both,” she said, or rather wheezed. “Pareidolia is the tendency to interpret known patterns from vague formations. Like when people see Jesus in a piece of burnt toast or human faces on the moon.”
One corner of his mouth curled. “You ever overwhelmed with all the stuff stored up there?” He tapped her temple. But given the way her heart leapt, he might as well have leaned down to kiss her.
“All the time.” She frowned. “But I’ve found ways to”—she searched for the right words—“quiet the noise, I guess would be the way to describe it.”
“How?” He seemed genuinely interested, so she gave him a genuine answer.
“Like you, I spend a lot of time alone. Away from outside stimulation. I like to sit on the dock. I like to read.” At his look of confusion, she conceded, “I know it sounds weird. But my brain is focused when it’s learning something new. It’s quiet. It’s concentrating. Also…there’s you.”
“Me?” A line appeared between his eyebrows.
“For whatever reason, when I’m around you, everything slows down.” She wasn’t able to meet his eyes for this next part. “I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because you always seem so calm, so deliberate. Everything about you screams Slow down. Take a breath. And so…I do.” She shrugged.