Summer in Manhattan

“You can. It’s not like I’m not a decent guy. You liked me enough to kiss me in Olympus and once again in the cab when I took you home.”

She put her mug down on the saucer and gave him a hard look. “But you didn’t like me enough. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult. But you hurt me, Hoop. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. I don’t like that. I act stupid when I’m hurt like that.”

Her words wounded him but only because he hadn’t thought of things from her point-of-view. He had pushed her away. She’d been willing to give him a chance; a real chance, but he’d been a guy.

“I’m an ass.”

“Agreed,” she said, with a smile. “Just kidding…you’re not an ass. I think you are actually a really nice guy. The kind of man who is responsible and a good friend.”

He hadn’t thought that he’d hurt her but now it consumed him. Made him realize how arrogant he’d been in thinking he could come back to her. He owed her. He needed to show her she wasn’t the problem. That they could, at the very least, be friends. “Let me be a friend to you, Cici. Let me prove I can be a good friend to you.”

She shook her head. “Ugh. You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope. Sorry, it’s not in my programming to give up on something that means a lot to me.”

“And I mean a lot to you?” she asked. “We don’t really know each other.”

“I know. But I think we could be good friends,” he said. At least to start out with. She was having a baby and he knew how fragile families were. He’d gone into family law because he wanted to help bring people together.

“Okay. I’ll go to a baseball game with you and then we can see what happens next.”

Hoop was at her door early for their date. She almost didn’t answer it but she had decided as soon as she’d found out about her little bean that she wasn’t going to run away any more. It was a baseball game. No big deal, right?

She opened the door and he stood there wearing a faded Yankees t-shirt and holding his glove loosely in one hand. His jeans were faded too and clung to his thighs.

She sighed. He was too good looking. It would have been nice if his nose had been broken and hadn’t healed properly or maybe if he had a little bit of a beer belly. But no.

“You okay?”

“What? Yes, sorry about that,” she said. She pulled the door closed behind her and locked it.

“What are you wearing?”

“My Red Sox shirt.”

“I can see that, why?”

“I’m a Red Sox fan,” she said. “I grew up in Connecticut.”

“This is going to be awkward,” he said, smiling.

“More awkward than me being pregnant?” she asked with a grin. She had decided to own it. She’d been hiding the pregnancy from her friends and family because she’d been uncomfortable and embarrassed but talking with Hoop the other night at dinner had helped her get clarity. She had decided to have the baby and she was going to figure out how to be the best damn mother she could be.

He threw his head back and laughed. She smiled, realizing just how long it had been since she’d heard him laugh. It had been that night in the club. Pre-pregnancy.

“Fair point. I have season tickets,” he said. “You’re going to be sitting in the heart of the Yankee Country.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” she said. “Plus, my team is going to whip yours and I’m prepared to be a generous winner.”

They took the subway to Yankee Stadium and Cici got a few comments on the way. There were Red Sox fans on the subway as well. But she and Hoop both ignored them.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea for a first date,” Hoop said. “But you’re the first girl I’ve met in a long time that actually loves baseball.”

“This isn’t technically a date,” she said, trying to keep it clear to herself and him that they were just friends. “And that can’t be true. Other women love the sport.”

“They still love Derek Jeter even though he’s retired, but you know stats,” he said.

“I’m a numbers girl,” Cici said, as they walked into the stadium and past a row of food vendors. The smells were intense and she’d never wanted a hot dog and beer as badly. She knew the beer was out but a hotdog with mustard and onions. That would be…perfection.

She suspected it was pregnancy but she also knew she wanted a distraction. Baseball and men. She should have known better than to combine the two. It was her weakness.

“Want a hot dog?” she asked.

“I’d rather know why you love baseball,” Hoop replied, but he made his way to the vendor closest to them and got in line. “I know a lot of people who are good with numbers who don’t have a passion for the game.”

“That’s personal.”

“It’s how we are going to get to know one another better,” Hoop said.

“Really?” she asked. But she remembered the other night and how talking with him about the uncomfortable stuff had helped.

“Yes,” he said. “What do you want on your dog?”

“Mustard and onions,” she said.

“Drink?”

Beer. But she couldn’t. Her grandmother talked about how she’d drank and smoked while she’d been pregnant with Cici’s mom, to which Cici’s mom always quipped “look how normal I am”, but Cici wasn’t taking any chances.

“I’ll have a soda.”

“Wait for me over there?” he asked, gesturing to a spot where the crowds were thin.

She walked over there, noting that a cool breeze blew up from the opening. She watched Hoop. He was tall and handsome but more than that he seemed to have a kind soul. She had never had a good radar with men. She knew this. And given that her first impression of him had been dead wrong, she was afraid to trust her instincts where he was concerned.

She’d liked him, he’d rejected her, she had acted impulsively. She rubbed her hands over her lower stomach where her little bean was nestled.

He came over with their food and led the way up to their seats. She ignored some of the jeers she got as they sat down. She just smiled and ate her hotdog. Hayley had made her some kale chips which Cici dug out of her bag. Hayley wanted her to eat healthily. Iona was convinced that Cici wasn’t getting enough exercise and had taken to stopping by her apartment every morning before work to walk through Central Park with her.

She sighed, offering a kale chip to Hoop.

“No way. It’s bad enough I’m sitting with a Red Sox fan, I’m not eating pretend chips.”

“They taste better than you might think,” she said.

“That’s because nothing really tastes like cardboard,” he said, taking a swallow of his beer. “This is nice.”

So many times she’d felt alone in life but Hayley and Iona were sisters of the heart. She’d gotten lucky one of her exes had dated all three of them at the same time. Without him she would never have met Iona or Hayley and started the Candied Apple & Cafe. She tried not to dwell on the fact that something good had come out of her bad taste in men.