“Oh!” I gasp, stunned.
“I’m telling you, that’s what he told Brody,” Dominik says. “That boy is a romantic. Those are his words, not mine. And not Brody’s. I know Brody, and he talks about his Cherry Blossom differently. Doesn’t he?”
I watch as Hayley’s face lights up. That’s Brody’s nickname for her.
“No, that’s not a translation from Brody,” Hayley confirms. “Those are Brady’s words.”
Barbara snorts. “Of course, they are. Brady is a romantic. Husband over here? He only waxes poetic about my cabbage rolls. So yes, Brady said that. You’ve put a spell on that boy.”
If I didn’t have a fork in my hand, I swear my instinct would be to clasp my hands over my heart and let out a long dreamy sigh, knowing those very words passed over those beautiful, imperfect, asymmetrical lips. I replay them over in my head, thinking of how he didn’t kiss and tell, but rather spoke of the emotions that made him want to kiss me.
A man. Speaking openly of his emotions to his twin, the person closest to him in the entire world.
I was attracted to Brady Jensen upon first sight yesterday. But the more I learn of his mind and heart, the attraction is winding around me like the wisteria that blooms in the spring, the vines strong and solid. As it grows and entwines together, it creates a foundation for beautiful flowers to bloom when the time is right.
I’m at the start of the season with Brady, I think, a rush of excitement surging within me. What we have is new, like the beginning of a wisteria vine. And as we continue to get to know each other, we’ll see if our vines care to entwine and grow further together.
And tonight will be another step in that direction.
* * *
I always thought baseball was a slow game. I’m not a baseball fanatic like Katie. Prior to meeting Hayley, I knew nothing. Usually, when I come to a game, I’m taking in the view of the rich green grass and watching the flags blow in the breeze. People watching. Listening for the sound of a ball against the bat or the cries of a beer vendor coming down the aisle. Picking out a good time to grab a huge pretzel in the shape of a W to dip in a cheese sauce and chatting with my friends as we watch AJ and Brody play. Thanks to repeated exposure—and hearing Dominik and Katie talk—I know more now, but the experience has always been more interesting than the game itself.
But that was before yesterday.
Now, my gaze roams across the lush grass that I just stood on the other day with Brady to the Soaring Eagles dugout, where I spy him sitting on the bench, chatting with other players. As I see him smile, moving his hand to emphasize some point, I feel as if this game is painfully going to crawl by, even more than usual, when all I want it to do is fly. I want the Soaring Eagles to win in a quick fashion so I can get out of here.
And be with Brady again.
“Do you want my binoculars?” Dominik asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I blink. “What?”
“I notice your eyes tend to wander over to Brady. You can see him better with these.”
An embarrassed smile forms on my face. “I’m pathetic.”
Dominik laughs. “I know he’s the most interesting thing in the ballpark to you.”
“But if things go right on the next couple of dates, I bet you’ll become a massive baseball fan,” Hayley says. “You’ll definitely be one when he’s pitching on Thursday.”
I shift my attention to Chase McLeary, the man who is pitching tonight. Chase, the ginger-haired ace of the pitching staff, has, according to Dominik, a no-hitter going so far.
Chase nods at the sign Brody is no doubt flashing him, and he blows a ball right past the St. Louis player at bat, delivering it straight to Brody. The crowd cheers the strike.
“McLeary has been tremendous this season. All of his outings have been spectacular so far,” Dominik says sagely.
“What is Brady like as a pitcher?” I ask him.
He takes a sip of his beer and gives me a side-eye. “What, you didn’t Google him? Don’t all you kids do that before accepting a date these days?”
I make a face. “Well, I did, but in-depth sports articles give me tired head. I get lost in the language and percentages.”
“I’ll give you my thoughts, then,” Dominik says, nodding. “We made the trade for Brady because he has tremendous potential. He can throw a great curveball and four-seam fastball. He came up at the end of last season from the minors and pitched in Chicago. His outings were terrific.”
“So why did Chicago trade him?” I ask, curious.
Dominik pauses, as all of a sudden, Brody leaps up from behind the plate and fires a ball to third base, and the third baseman tags out the runner trying to steal it. The crowd erupts into cheers for Brody, as he’s ended the inning, and the team heads back to the dugout while the visiting St. Louis team heads out to the field.
“Great play, Brody!” Barbara yells, going back to her knitting.
“Our boy is looking good, Hayley,” Dominik says proudly.
Hayley is beaming. “I know, he worked so hard in the off-season with Chase and AJ. I’m glad staying in DC paid off for all of them.”
I nod. The three friends stayed in town not only to train together but because they have women who have careers here in DC. Well, Hayley told me Chase and his girlfriend broke up on New Year’s Eve, but with spring training in Florida only a month after that, he didn’t bother to go home even though the relationship had ended.
“So why did they trade him, you ask?” Dominik repeats, coming back to my question. “They traded him because their shortstop blew out his knee skiing in January. They don’t have anyone in the minors that they wanted to fill that role, and since we’re deep with talent at that position, we traded ours and decided to beef up the pitching rotation. More so because Domingo hasn’t come back from his shoulder surgery like we hoped. From what I’ve read, they think Brady can be a superstar starter with the right coaching from the Soaring Eagles staff.”
I shift my gaze to the dugout again, my eyes landing on Brady. From what I know, he had to fight his way to get drafted. To move up from small town to small town and then to finally get called up, thinking he was on the cusp of reaching pitching greatness in Chicago, only to find himself traded to DC.
Where his twin brother is one of the biggest stars.
His brother, who has always had a natural talent for baseball and has always been seen as one of the best catchers in the league. According to Hayley, Brody went straight from high school to minor league baseball and was so talented, he didn’t even spend much time there.
Whereas Brady had to fight for even a chance to play the game. He wasn’t drafted out of high school. He played at Stanford on an academic scholarship and wasn’t drafted until his senior year of college. While Brody was settling into his major league baseball career, Brady was struggling in the minors. Only when he connected with his catcher in Louisiana last summer did his game start to elevate to the level scouts thought him capable of reaching.
I bite my lip as I study him watching the game from the bench, wondering how it feels for him to be in DC. I know he gets questions about why he doesn’t have his twin catch him—outside of his first outing with him in April—but at least his winning record points to that being a wise decision on the manager’s part.