“We met them on the beach yesterday. They’re here on spring break, and yeah, I think I might be.”
“Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that,” Dad says.
“I wasn’t expecting her.” The confession rolls off my lips easily.
“All the things, Griffin,” Mom reminds me.
“We hung out yesterday. She’s easy to talk to and to be around.” She also takes my breath away every time I look at her, but I keep that information to myself.
“Go on.” Mom’s smile is bright.
“I like her.” I shrug, knowing it’s going to drive her crazy.
“Ugh, why must you torture me?” she moans.
“Come on, Anna, give the kid some time to tell us about her.”
“Gary Anthony, you leave me be,” she scolds playfully.
Did I mention that my parents are couple’s goals? They met in college and have been together ever since. Well mom was in college and dad was in culinary school. They still make each other laugh, and anyone who sees them together can practically feel the love radiating between the two of them. It’s most definitely a sight to see.
“She’s… I don’t really know. I can’t put it into words,” I tell them.
“Can we meet her?” Mom asks.
“She lives in Tennessee. She’s here for two more days, and then she’s going back to school. She plays softball, and the season starts when she gets back.”
“Oh, she plays softball. That’s good. She understands the pressure and the commitment that you have to baseball,” Mom comments.
“That’s just it. She’s tightly connected to the baseball world.” That’s the understatement of the century, but I don’t really know how else to describe it. She’s so tightly connected; it’s who she is.
“Well, she plays, that’s not exactly tightly connected,” Dad chimes in.
“No, you don’t get it. Her dad played for the majors. Her brother-in-law plays for the majors, and her soon-to-be brother-in-law also plays for the majors. They play for the same team that her dad played for.”
“Damn,” Dad mutters.
“I’d say that passes for being tightly connected,” Mom agrees.
“Who’s her dad?” mine asks.
“I don’t want to say. I met her brother-in-law and soon-to-be this morning when I picked her up, but she didn’t mean for me to. It was kind of an ‘in the right place at the right time’ kind of situation.”
“Why did she not want you to meet them?” Mom sounds hurt.
“She said she wanted me to be hers.” My heart hammers in my chest when I think about those words. What she doesn’t realize is that I want to be hers too. I don’t give a damn who her family is. I just want her.
“Aw,” Mom coos.
“Meaning?” Dad asks.
I go on to tell them a little about our conversation. “I really like her.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Dad asks.
“She lives so far away.” Even with the almost thirteen-hour drive, and that’s with no stops, I’ve been running plans through my head and dates of when I might be able to go visit her.
“Tennessee isn’t that far. What part of Tennessee?” he asks.
“Nashville. It’s a twelve-and-a-half-hour drive.” I’ve put it into the GPS on my phone more times than I care to admit. I guess I was hoping that maybe I entered it wrong all the times before, and she would suddenly live closer. Wishful thinking on my part.
Dad nods. “Okay. So that’s a long drive, but not impossible.”
My parents are always my biggest supporters, no matter the challenge or situation.
“I have school and baseball. I don’t know when I’d ever be able to get to see her. She has softball and school. It’s as if we’re doomed from the start.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about a girl like you do her. I’ve never actually heard you admit that you like someone.” Mom smiles. “That tells me she’s special. Don’t let a little distance stop you from pursuing something with her.”
“It’s impossible.” I’ve done nothing but mull this over since the minute I laid eyes on her. I knew she was different.
“Nothing is impossible if you put the hard work and effort into it,” Dad tells me. “Think of this just like you do baseball. Relationships take work. They’re hard and messy, and they can also be the best thing in your life,” he says, his eyes softening when he looks over at my mom.
“Right. You two make it look easy,” I tell them.
“Maybe.” Dad shrugs. “But it’s work. You have to communicate, and when you’re with someone and know them better than they know themselves, that means that you know how to get under their skin better than anyone. You know the words to cut deep.”
“You two don’t do that.”
“We do,” Mom says. “We have. We try not to, but it’s human nature to take bad moods or sadness out on those we’re closest to. We know that they’ll be there no matter what.”
“I don’t even know if she’s willing to start something.”
“But haven’t you already?” Mom asks.
“Not really. We’re just hanging out.”
“When do you see her again?” Dad asks.
“Tomorrow night. I’m supposed to be making her a steak. She says it’s too much work to chew, and the guys told her that mine aren’t like that.”
“You’re welcome,” Dad boasts, making us laugh.
“Can we meet her? You did meet her family after all.” Mom gives me a pleading look. I know she’s been waiting for a time when I would bring someone home. Neither one of us ever thought it would be this complicated when it finally happened.
“I don’t know. I don’t want you scaring her away.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Mom raises her hands as if she’s being sworn in under oath.
“I’ll ask her. Maybe you all can be here for dinner with us tomorrow night?”
“We’d love that. You and I can take care of making dinner for our girls,” Dad says, already making plans.
“She’s not my girl.” And for the first time in my life, I want to call someone my girl. I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe. This isn’t me. I don’t chase after girls, and I don’t lose sleep over them either.
“Well, we’ll help with that too.” He laughs.
“No. No. No.” I shake my head. “I don’t need help. Let me see how she feels about it.”
“Let us know,” Dad says.
With that, I stand and kiss Mom on the cheek, giving her a hug. I’m feeling a little sentimental after our talk, so instead of a fist bump, Dad gets a hug, too, before I head up to my room.
I don’t bother turning on the light. Instead, making my way to my bed in the dark, I plop down and pull out my phone. I debate on texting her or calling her, and calling wins. I just left her, and I already wanted to hear her voice.
Maybe I was abducted by aliens?
Shaking out of the thought, I pull up her name and tap the call button.