Susie and I walked in companionable silence as we made our way toward Vernal Falls. I knew Yosemite quite well. I’d been here a couple of times when I was a teenager and had never forgotten those trips with my family.
I wanted to ask Susie about her phone-sex job and tease her, but I knew she was quite sensitive about the subject. In fact, she seemed almost too sensitive to be successful in that profession. If she got offended at me teasing her and asking these questions, I couldn’t imagine how she would feel when dirty men got on the phone wanting her to role-play and act out their various kinks. She didn’t seem like that sort of woman, and I wanted to know why she’d taken such a job, especially when her best friend was dating Finn, and he’d offered her a job.
Finn was a billionaire. He could afford to pay her whatever she wanted. And from all accounts, it seemed she had a great degree. I could tell by the way she spoke that she was intelligent. Ultimately, I knew she didn’t know me well enough or trust me enough to tell me why she’d taken such a job.
“Are you tired?” I asked her, noticing she’d slowed down as we were walking.
“A bit. I haven’t really hiked in a long time. And if I’m honest, I’ve never really been much of a hiker, so I’m kind of out of shape.”
“You don’t look like you’re out of shape.” I smiled as I looked over her womanly figure.
She was filled out in all the right places. She had big boobs, which I had a pension for, and a large ass, though she wasn’t overweight. I couldn’t lie. She looked like she’d be dynamite in bed, but that wasn’t something I was going to tell her.
She played with her long black hair and yawned slightly.
“We don’t have to hike all the way there, then,” I said. “It’s a lot for one day, I know.”
“But you said you wanted to. I don’t mind.”
“Wow, you’re being nice to me,” I said, feigning shock.
“Don’t get used to it.” She grinned.
“Oh, I don’t think I could. I doubt it’ll last much longer.”
“Yeah, well, not if you say something that annoys me.”
“It seems like almost everything I say annoys you.”
“Not when you’re being normal.”
“I thought I was always being normal.”
“No. Sometimes you’re a cocky bastard.”
“Really? You think I’m a cocky bastard?”
“Yeah, and I bet I’m not the only woman that’s ever said that.”
I started laughing. She was right, of course. I’d been called an asshole and a bastard so many times that I almost felt as though those terms were my nicknames.
“So, Brody.”
“Yes, Susie.”
“Tell me more about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did you always want to be a baseball player?”
I looked at her in surprise. My nostrils flared as I took a deep breath. She was staring at me with an inquisitive expression. I wasn’t sure how to answer her because no one had ever asked me that. Most people just assumed that I’d always wanted to be a baseball player, but that was far from the truth. “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”
“Oh, okay. But you were just good at it or…” She paused for a moment. “I don’t mean to pry. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re not prying,” I said. “I didn’t actually play sports when I was in high school. I was a bit of a nerd.” I said the words lightly, but I flinched as it registered that I’d said them out loud.
“Oh, really? You were a nerd? You don’t look like it.”
I nodded in agreement. “I know I don’t.”
“So are you going to tell me more? I’m surprised you didn’t play in high school. Did you play in college?”
“I did play in college, yeah.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, and I stared back at her. I wasn’t used to having these kinds of conversations with people. Men thought I was cool because I was a professional baseball player, and women thought I was cool because I was hot and a professional baseball player. No one had ever asked me about why I got into the sport, or when, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
“If you don’t want to tell me—”
“No, it’s just… It’s unusual for someone to ask me questions like this.”
“I’m just asking you a regular question, no?”
“I guess most women want to know the amount of money I have in my bank account or where I’m going to take them shopping. They don’t really ask me about myself. Maybe they ask if I’m looking for a girlfriend or a wife or if I want to have kids or something like that, but not about me.”
“Then you’re really dating the wrong sort of women,” she said softly, “because any woman that was trying to get to know you would want to know about you.”
“Are you trying to get to know me?”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m asking you the questions.”
“So do you consider this a date?”
“Are you joking, Brody?” She stared at me and shook her head. “You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t know. I’m asking you a question.”
“No, I’m not trying to date you. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“I’m just checking. I mean—”
“I know, I know. You’re Brody Wainwright. You’re a top baseball player for the New York Yankees, and you’re handsome and rich and blah, blah, blah. I’m going to fill you in on something.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t watch baseball. I don’t care about baseball. I don’t care how much money you have. I don’t care that you play for the Yankees. I couldn’t care less if you were from fricking Mars, okay?”
“Well, I’m not from Mars.”
“I know. You’re from Kentucky.”
“Actually, I’m not from Kentucky. I grew up in Pennsylvania, and my grandparents lived in Kentucky.”
“Did you grow up in Philly?” she asked me.
“No. I actually grew up in a small town in northern Pennsylvania.”
“Okay. I don’t know Pennsylvania that well, or I’d ask you the name of the town.”
“Yeah, most people wouldn’t have heard of my town.”
“So you grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania. Did you have a large family?”
“I was a middle child. Two brothers.”
“So there’s three of you. Any sisters?”
“No.”
“And you visited your grandparents in Kentucky. Are you a country boy or something?” She started laughing, and I smiled at her, though the insides of my stomach started curling. I flashed back to my sophomore year of high school.
“Hey there, Wainwright,” one of the football players had called me out as I was walking down the hallway with my biology textbook.
“Hi,” I’d said.
“What are you doing, nerd?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said what are you doing, nerd? I can’t believe you’re a Wainwright.”
“I don’t know how to answer that.” I had stared at him. And then a bunch of girls had started laughing. The football player had been about to say something else when my older brother came out of one of the classrooms and saw that I was being picked on.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He’d walked over to the football player, who was one of his best friends. They’d been on the team together, and my brother Michael had actually been the quarterback of the team.
“I was just saying that your brother is a lame-o. Biology over sports?”
“Dude, leave him alone.”
“I just don’t get at it. How is he such a hick when you guys are—”
“How am I a hick just because I’m studious?” I’d asked him. “Piss off.”
“You’re a hick because you’d rather spend time on the farm than hang out.”
I’d pressed my lips together, close to tears. I couldn’t believe my brother wasn’t sticking up for me more.
“Dude, just leave him alone,” Michael had said. “Come on, let’s go throw some ball.” And they’d walked off.
I’d known I was different. In a school that had valued sports and dating and getting laid, I’d been the nerd, and I stuck out like a sore thumb being a Wainwright. No girls had wanted me, with my bad acne and braces, and I’d started going to help my grandparents on the farm during the summer because they hadn’t been able to afford the help they’d needed to keep the farm going. This had stopped me from going to parties and bonding with my brother’s friends, and I was a bit of a loner.
“Hey, Brody.” Susie’s hand grazed my arm, and I looked at her, blinking. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You were just saying something about the fact that you’re not a hick, and I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to offend you if…”
“No, no, I’m not offended. Of course not.” I gave her a big, warm smile and ran my hand through my hair. It’d been a long time since those memories had affected me. A long time since I’d remembered what it was like to be a loser. “Susie.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to drop them panties for me anytime soon?” I chuckled as she glared at me. She started huffing and puffing and mumbling something under her breath, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I knew she was pissed off, and I knew she was probably doubting that I was a good man or a good person, but I didn’t care. I just needed to ensure she didn’t ask me any more questions. I just needed to ensure she didn’t try to get anything else out of me.
I just wasn’t ready to visit the past again.