Accidentally in Love, page 18
All in all, the fact that Ethan had disappeared should have made her rejoice. It should have been a breath of fresh air. But she was anxious: all she could do was think about the state he would be in when he came home. As long as he remembered where home, for the moment, was supposed to be…
Sara was rather surprised that up until then he had actually seemed to be serious about staying away from alcohol, which meant the problem was less serious than he wanted his family to think. It was probably all part of his character – just a way to get himself noticed.
Of course, that discovery did not mean that Ethan wasn’t actually able to knock back drink after drink to anaesthetize his mind. The first time he’d met her in that nightclub he had certainly seemed drunk. Very drunk…
She sighed. Worrying always got the better of her and put her in a bad mood .
She drained her glass of water and headed for the bedroom, hoping that sleep would save her from herself.
*
Sara had always been quite good at sport, but baseball was her big weakness. For her, baseball had always meant physical pain – all she had to do was pitch the ball a couple of times and her shoulder would be sore for weeks. As soon as her muscles had gotten back to normal, it was time for another pointless game.
Why her family insisted on playing was a mystery. They were terrible, all of them, with no exceptions. Somewhere in their DNA there must be some gene that made them slow runners, unable to throw a ball with any kind of strength, or at least without dislocating a shoulder, and chronically unable to catch one before it hit the ground.
It was depressing to admit, but since Aunt Lydia had been dropped from the team because of her age, their already not particularly brilliant results had gotten even more pathetic.
Perhaps it would be better if they started doing curling or something. They certainly couldn’t be any worse .
She had arrived at Bensonhurst Park at nine o’clock on the dot, as usual, and had swiftly crossed the park on Cropsey Avenue to reach one of the three amateur baseball fields. Before leaving home, she’d taken a quick peek in Ethan’s room to make sure he was still alive. He was, if his snoring could be considered adequate proof. Sara didn’t have the foggiest idea of what time he’d deigned to come home, but it certainly couldn’t have been before three or four in the morning.
She’d closed the door quietly and left the apartment on her own. His nocturnal life style didn’t really square with the desire to play baseball.
“Hey, beautiful!” Eva greeted her on her arrival.
“Hey,” Sara answered, glumly. But it wasn’t her sister’s fault, the problem was the baseball.
“And where have you left our trump card?” asked Eva, peering optimistically over her shoulder.
“Who are you talking about?” asked Sara, pretending not to have understood.
“Oh, what do you mean, ‘who’? Come on, quit fooling around,” Eva groaned. “I’ve already promised the others that this time, at least, we won’t lose so appallingly. There’s no way he’s not coming!”
Sara shrugged. “I don’t really know how you could have possibly believed for a second that someone like him would get his ass out of bed at dawn to come and play baseball. And while we’re on the subject, I’m not really sure why I got mine out of bed either…”
“So where is this savior of the family honor, then?” her father, who had walked over to join them, wanted to know. At least one thing had to be admitted – the baseball shirt did look good on him.
“Dad, I’ve been telling you for years,” Sara answered sarcastically, “superheroes do not exist – we have to do it all by ourselves.”
He burst out laughing with his usual benevolence. “Oh, they exist, sweetheart, they exist alright – but you have to believe in them if you want to find one nowadays.”
“You’d need to have more than faith with Ethan,” she couldn’t resist saying. “You’d need magic mushrooms or something.”
“Is that what this friend of yours who’s having trouble is called? The one who’s staying with you for a few days? Eva’s filled me in with some of the details.”
“Yeah, well, he’s having his apartment redecorated and he didn’t have any place to go so…” she said, trying to sound convincing.
“Hey, you do the right thing, sweetheart. You should always help your friends out when they need a hand,” her father said, adding jokingly, “It’s just a shame that he’s not a prospective son-in-law… ”
“God, absolutely not!” a panicky Sara answered instinctively. All she needed now was for her family to get the wrong idea. It was clear they would have liked to see her dating someone, but there were limits!
“It doesn’t matter, babe,” he repeated, as usual. “Mr Right will come – sooner or later the right man will turn up.”
“You’ve been telling me that for about fifteen years now,” she pointed out. “But at this point, even Aunt Lydia’s got a better chance of finding a boyfriend…”
Eva cleared her throat. “Err… Aunt Lydia just told me she dumped the guy she was dating last month because he wouldn’t take her dancing. Now she’s on the lookout for a new man.”
“See?” groaned Sara. “She can afford to dump one because she knows she’ll just find another one, and she’s more than eighty years old!”
“And each one’s always younger than the last,” her sister added thoughtfully. “How do you think she does it?”
“I have no idea, but at this point I might as well surrender to the inevitable and just ask her straight up what her secret is. Is she here?” Sara looked around the field. Her aunt usually came to watch the game. She insisted she was doing it to support them, but Sara suspected she was just doing it for the laughs.
“She was here a second ago,” her father replied. “Apparently she doesn’t want to miss our latest humiliation. But we can do it, can’t we, girls?”
Sara looked dubiously at Eva, and her sister returned her skeptical look.
“Sure we can, Dad,” they lied together.
At that moment a voice behind them distracted them from their conversation. “Yoo-hoo! Look who I found hanging around!” Aunt Lydia cried out happily, moving towards them on the arm of a familiar blonde man.
“Ethan?!” Sara exclaimed in surprise.
“It does look like him…” agreed Eva, who was beginning to have new hope, adding cheekily, “And this time he’s fully clothed!”
Her father had the decency to ignore that last statement, and wisely abstained from commenting. When you had two daughters, it was usually better not to know absolutely everything about their private lives.
“I found this young gentleman wandering around looking for the right field,” added their old aunt, with a satisfied smirk. “Not bad, huh?” she giggled.
“What are you doing here?” Sara asked, folding her arms .
“I’ve come to play, haven’t I? I thought I’d been invited,” he replied.
“And are you planning on playing dressed like that?” she asked dubiously, looking at his black jeans and black t-shirt. As far as she was concerned, she was starting to have had enough of both the color black and his ridiculously tight tops.
“Well, I was hoping for a jersey, actually…”
“I vote that he should play like that,” Aunt Lydia said. “Or even without a shirt, if we really have to change something.”
Sara rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Aunt Lydia, he’s thirty-five,” she said, sounding a bit annoyed.
“So what? Madonna only goes out with twenty year olds, you know,” said their aunt stubbornly.
“Yeah, but you’re not Madonna…” Sara reminded her.
“Much lovelier, I would say,” said Ethan gallantly, and Aunt Lydia almost melted as she stared intensely into his turquoise eyes.
Sara was beginning to have had enough of them all. She was in really a bad mood. “Carry on like that and I’ll leave you alone with her,” she warned him “She eats men like you for breakfast.”
“Take no notice of her, my dear. She’s just jealous because she doesn’t have my charm. And Sara, try to be patient for a while longer, sweetheart. You know, your perfect man may not even have been born yet,” her aunt concluded. The mouths of all present dropped open in surprise.
Sara stared at them, undecided as to whether it made sense to keep such an absurd conversation going or not, and in the end opted wisely to change the subject. “Probably not. Now let me steal Ethan from you for a second to see if I can find him something more suitable to wear.” And without further ado, she dragged him away from her aunt’s firm grip.
“There’s a man’s jersey in my backpack on the bench,” Eva said. “I brought it hoping that we would, er, need it.”
“Great. Come on,” she said, giving Ethan a serious look.
Sara wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad he had decided to come. He did look a bit tired, and his eyes seemed more haggard than usual, but then she wasn’t exactly feeling as fresh as a daisy herself. Anyway, he had been brave enough to join them. Now all that remained to be seen was whether that was really a good thing or not.
“Are you angry?” he asked her, observing the expression.
“No. Should I be?” she replied, realising she sounded slightly on edge. “Is it a trick question?” She opened Eva’s backpack aggressively, yanking out one by one the pieces of the white baseball kit. “I suppose the answer depends on the state you were in when you went to bed this morning,” she replied, handing them over to him.
“How do you know it was this morning?” he asked with a cheeky smile.
“Because I was still awake at two o’clock! I couldn’t sleep…” She realized too late it might have been better to have kept hidden some information.
“I’ve respected your rules, if that’s what you’re implying. I waited until the effect of the booze had worn off completely before coming back.”
“You deserve a good spanking,” she exclaimed angrily.
He raised his eyebrows, looking amused. “Ah, so that’s the kind of thing you’re into, is it?”
“Arghh! Okay, I’m done – get changed or don’t get changed. Do what the hell you like! Play naked if you really want to. I don’t give a…!” And so saying, she walked off rather angrily.
To Aunt Lydia’s great delight, there was no locker room, so Ethan was forced to change by the bench, improvising a striptease he would have preferred to avoid. He managed by pretending not to care, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Sara walking over to say hello to Tony. He was wearing baseball whites too. He must be part of the ‘dream team’. Tony did nothing but giggle and puff out his chest like a turkey to show off. But this was America, where turkeys didn’t normally come to a good end.
Sara, instead, was gazing at him with eyes that sparkled. Very different from the eyes that had questioned him about how much he had drunk the previous evening. But at the end of the day, what did it matter to him? In all likelihood, all she cared about was carrying out her role as babysitter.
Ethan adjusted his jersey and wondered for the thousandth time why on earth he was here. He had slept for about five hours before walking to the park, and it was only good luck that the Di Giovannis had opted for the nearest one. Remaining under the bed covers would have been much wiser, from every point of view – especially because Sara didn’t really seem too happy to see him mixing with her family. No, all she cared about was that Tony was there…
“Ah, if looks could kill,” joked Eva, appearing at his side.
“I’m sorry, I’m not with you?” said Ethan, bending over to lace up his trainer. When he stood up Sara was still talking to Tony. In fact, she was playing nervously with her braid, laughing at some joke or other.
“Yeah, sure you’re not,” she joked, concentrating on studying her sister. “Maybe now would be a good time for her to ask him out. She should have done it at least ten years ago, if you want my opinion, in order to finally realize she has nothing in common with him and get on with her life. My sister is so stubborn – the way she gets obsessed with things and won’t let them go…”
“And you’re telling me all this because…” he left the phrase dangling in mid-air and turned in her direction.
“Yeah, well, why not. I don’t know, I just got this feeling that you might be interested,” said Eva.
“Well, you’re wrong, I’m not,” he replied.
“And so you’re here because someone forced you to come, I imagine?” she said sarcastically.
“No, I’m just here for the baseball.” It was partly true.
“Oh, right. Real sports lover, huh?”
“Very much so.”
“And when was the last time you played?” she asked serenely.
There was a long pause before he answered. “It was… in the nineties,” he admitted reluctantly.
Eva laughed. “Ah, you baseball lovers. I mean, you know, if I loved a sport, I’d maybe try and make sure I played it like once a decade, but I guess that’s just me…”
“I’m pleased to see that sarcasm runs in the family,” said Ethan, uncomfortably.
“Oh yeah, for generations and generations. It’s like our clan trademark. ”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Which position do you want to play?” she asked him, turning her attention back to focus on the game.
“Pitcher.”
“Cool. Maybe this time, Sara and I will save our shoulders. Good luck!” And so saying off she went to organize the game.
Sara positioned herself behind Ethan as a centre-fielder, resigned to running around in the futile hope of catching the ball. They always threw it in her direction at a thousand miles per hour.
She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst. She would have closed her eyes if it wasn’t for the fact that if she did, she would have been even less likely to catch the ball. Ethan was in position, ready to pitch. Two broad shoulders, seen from behind. And a beautiful backside, just as her aunt had pointed out before the start of the game. What with her being the undisputed expert, Sara hadn’t dared contradict her.
Ethan took the ball, rolled it between his fingers and, with a surprisingly graceful movement for a man of his height, made a quick and accurate pitch. The hitter, who was accustomed to Tony’s pitching – not terrible but nothing more, – stood immobile.
“Hey, I wasn’t ready!” he shouted to Ethan after the umpire, one of Sara’s thousands of cousins, finished calling the strike. “Now I’m ready!” he announced.
Ethan turned to Sara and stared at her, a funny smirk on his face. She raised her eyebrows as if to challenge him. He beamed at her and, before turning towards the batter, winked as a sign of understanding. Then he took the ball and, moving even faster than before, pitched straight into the mitt of the catcher, who let out a sound of surprise.
“Woah that was fast!” the man yelled excitedly. There hadn’t been throws like that in their games since before the Vietnam war.
“I’m still a bit rusty. Let’s see if I can do any better,” was Ethan’s answer.
The balls he pitched started getting faster and became more and more effective.
“Your flatmate really knows how to throw ,” said Eva, who was standing to Sara’s right in the position of left fielder.
“Looks that way…” she had to admit in astonishment. She didn’t doubt that Ethan had actually played baseball as a boy, but she was slightly perplexed about the shape of his body. When he was throwing the ball, he lost that bored look that normally hung about him every day. It transformed him. Although they were a fair distance from each other, it seemed he got great satisfaction out of playing – a kind of joy she had never noticed in him before. He seemed happy. Which was not exactly his typical mood.
If the psychiatrist, who had drawn up the report on his state of mind during the first hearing to decide on a court appointed guardian could have seen him now, he’d have struggled to define him as self-destructive and bored. Sara had read all of the report with some curiosity when they had delivered the dossier. She was struck by the fact that the expert had diagnosed Ethan as being on the edge of chronic depression and totally unable to look after his own interests.
After their brief period of living together, she was convinced that Ethan, who had nothing worthwhile to do all day except sit out his life despite his lively brain and energetic body, had decided to turn all that energy towards self-destruction. Because no one, in fact, had ever bothered to teach him otherwise.
All that was needed was for him to be given something to do – anything at all – and his face and his character changed completely. That day, for example, all it had taken had been asking him to pitch as many balls as possible. It seemed so ridiculous and yet it was the beginning of something much more important. If only Sara could find something that made her feel useful…
“For once in our lives we don’t have to run up and down the pitch looking ridiculous,” Eva said, proudly. “You have to admit it, my darling sister – I had a hell of an idea when I invited him here to play!”
“Yes, an amazing idea,” she said thoughtfully.
Being well aware she was just the guardian appointed by the court to look after his economic and legal interests, she was loath to admit it, but strange thoughts had begun to fly around inside her mind. Rebecca had warned her not to get too involved in Ethan’s personal affairs, but could she really just sit back and do nothing when all he needed was a little shove in the right direction?
“I think I can safely say we won’t be getting our hands on the ball at all today,” said Eva, smiling happily.
“No. But don’t count your chickens – sooner or later we’ll have to do our bit.”
“I know, I know. But I’m going to enjoy it while I can.”
*
Ethan had left the pitch pumped high on adrenaline. It really had been too long since he’d last had a go at pitching – ever since they had kicked him off the school team for turning up stinking drunk that time. And they’d been stupid to do it, because he was, without a doubt, the best pitcher they’d had. The decision had made them lose the student championship and he’d been so full of anger and wounded pride that he hadn’t picked up a baseball mitt since. It only struck him now how stupid that had been. He decided he should thank Sara and Eva for this opportunity. And he would have done, if it hadn’t been for the fact that thanking people wasn’t really his kind of thing.
