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“You stupid, Yo,’’ Oscar bellowed into the phone.
“Thanks, genius,’’ Jack said, falling back in his easy chair.
“Why the hell you tell her you having the ring made, when you ain’t even been to a jewelry store?’’
“You gonna help me or what?’’
“Where is she?’’
“In the shower.’’
“Can you get out, or does she have your ass on lock down?’’
“You’re funny. I gotta take her to work.’’
“Just meet me at Gene’s in about two hours.’’
“Two hours?! Come on, man! I want to get this done, be in and out.’’
“Yo! Hol’ up,’’ O swung his legs out from under his silk sheets and his feet planted on the rug. “I’m still in bed, and I got to take my ho home.’’
“Excuse me,’’ Jack heard a female voice say in the background. “I ain’t no ho!’’
“Shut up, bitch.’’
Jack shook his head. “Forget it, I’ll just go myself.’’
“Shut up. Two hours. And bring cash. They don’t deal in plastic.’’
Jack guided his truck along the slowing, heavy midday traffic on West Burnside Street. He was early, so he had plenty of time to find a parking space. He slid into a spot on the corner of 20th Place, two blocks north of the shop. He gradually made his way to the jewelers, doing a bit of window-shopping at an art gallery and a woman’s boutique.
When he entered Gene’s shop, Oscar was sitting behind the counter speaking with a blonde.
“Here’s the man about to complicate his life!’’ Oscar announced.
“Don’t say that,’’ the blonde said. She approached Jack and shook his hand.
“Don’t listen to him. I bet you’ll be happy.’’
The short, attractive woman had an alluring smile. Jack grinned at her, wondering if Oscar had slept with her yet, or was trying to.
A short, well dressed man, with identical wavy hair as the woman’s, came out from behind the curtains that hid his small office from the one-aisle shop. He made his way around the blonde and down the left side of his glass counters. He stuck out his hand to Jack.
“Jack Newhouse, good to see you again,’’ he gave Jack a very business-like grin.
Jack returned the greeting.
“So, you’re sure you want to do this, eh?’’
“Yes.’’
“Fine. You have a particular diamond in mind?’’
Oscar butted in, “He’s in love,’’ he said as he neared the two men. “Price is no object! Give him the best you got!’’
Jack glared at his friend. “You as smart as you look.’’
“Shit, then I’m brilliant.’’
Gene had a large, navy blue cloth in his left hand that Jack hadn’t noticed. He brought it up to the counter and laid it out.
“You’re in luck,’’ he said as he opened the cloth and revealed two round diamonds that sparkled in the dimly lit shop. “I had these cut for a pair of earrings, and it seems that I won’t be making them.’’
“Shit,’’ O whispered, leaning on the counter face close to the gems.
The blonde came over, “Oh, my God! They’re gorgeous, Gene.’’
“Aren’t they?’’
Jack was a believing person, by nature. But this ring had to be the best purchase of his life. He wanted it to be perfect, a great gem was what he wanted. But he wasn’t sure how to pick a diamond. The more he looked down at the gems, the more he couldn’t look away. They were round, a tad bit smaller than a pebble, and deep and crystal clear.
“They are three karats apiece,’’ Gene said. He used tweezers to separate the gems. “They are very clear and of great quality.’’
“Damn.’’ O looked up to Jack, pointing at the diamonds. “These are bad. Much better than what he gave me for Sondra.’’
Gene raised his eyebrows at O. Then, after giving it some thought, he nodded at Jack in agreement.
“I don’t know,’’ Jack just stared at them. He was thinking that they looked great, but wasn’t sure how to tell if they were really three karats.
Gene looked at Oscar again, then back at Jack. “I wouldn’t bullshit you, Jack. These are by far the best diamonds I have. If it wasn’t you, I wouldn’t even think of splitting them up.’’
“You got a band to go with it?’’
“Anything you want. But I’ll tell you, with gems like these, a simple, traditional band is all you need.’’
“That’s good enough for me. I don’t want anything fancy.’’
Oscar sprang up. “You crazy? Get some diamonds on the side, and shit. Maybe cut the diamond into a pear or-’’
“I don’t think so,’’ Jack cut off O.
Gene laughed. “You don’t want to cut these.’’
Jack asked, “Do you think maybe that I should get a bigger one?’’
He was clueless about diamonds, but he understood the bigger the better when it came to women.
“No, not really. Let me tell you, I have some larger stones, but they are not half the quality of these.’’
“No, these are lovely,’’ the blonde said.
Oscar slid in closer to the woman, “How would you feel if a handsome guy gave you the other one?’’
“Hmm,’’ she playfully gave it thought, beaming a bright smile. “I’d be so grateful.’’
“How grateful?’’
Gene glared at the blonde. Jack kicked O’s nearest ankle.
“How much?’’ Jack said loudly.
“With a band, let’s say three five?’’
“Three thousand, five hundred?’’ Jack asked.
“Yes,’’ Gene bristled. “I can’t do no better than that.’’
“No, that’s great,’’ Jack grinned. “Good looking out.’’
Jack was expecting to pay a lot more, and would have to get the best he could for Djuana. He went into his wallet and removed a gang of brand new hundreds he had gotten from the bank. He counted out the money, placing it in front of Gene.
“How soon can you have it ready?’’
“Give me two hours, say about five?’’
“Cool. I have to pick up Djuana around that time, but I can be late.’’
“No, she won’t mind,’’ Gene smiled.
Jack looked around the shop, Oscar followed him.
Gene asked, “You want wedding bands?’’
“No,’’ Jack said, stopping in front of the showcase with bracelets. “Do you have any nice anklets?’’
“Sure. I got one you may like,’’ Gene walked around the shop, and slid open the case Jack and Oscar were in front of. He removed a gold link.
“She has a normal ankle?’’
“No. It’s beautiful,’’ Jack said.
Oscar sucked his teeth. “Oh, boy.’’
Gene shook his head, and grinned slightly. “I meant ankle size.’’
“Yeah, I think she does.’’
“This is a nice one,’’ Gene looked at the tag, it read $190. “Give me a $100 and we’re clear.’’
Jack did, and the blonde boxed and wrapped it.
“Let’s go to Alice’s and grab a bite to eat,’’ Oscar suggested as they walked along West Burnside.
Jack looked down at his watch. He had plenty of time. “Sure. I’m hungry myself.’’
“Djuana still working at the mall?’’ Oscar said while his eyes and head followed every pair of hips on the block. “You ain’t tell her to quit yet?’’
“No. She will, though. That job is getting on her nerves.’’
Djuana sat in front of Mr. Thompson’s desk half listening to him, and half wondering how she could quit and be done with this foolishness. She watched him tap his pen on his lip, then bit it as he scolded her yet again. This was her second written reprimand.
“Djuana, I don’t know,’’ he widened the distance between his hands. “What is it that you want me to do for you? Since I transferred you up here to the executive offices I have heard nothing but negative reports on your work.’’
Djuana sat defiantly, her legs crossed under her peach umbrella skirt, both hands at her knee, biting her bottom lip.
“You have nothing to say?’’
“Mr. Thompson, what is it that you want me to say?’’
“Tell me what’s the problem.’’
“I didn’t think there was a problem.’’
“Well,’’ he sat up and edged closer. “Linda says you refuse to do anything she asks you to do. Paul said you were late twice last week.’’
“None of that is true.’’
“So, they’re lying on you?’’
“All I’m saying is that Linda never has liked me, and you can check my time card to see I haven’t been late.’’
Mr. Thompson lifted the reprimand off his desk. He read it quickly. “Paul says he told you to be in an hour earlier and you ignored him.’’
“I don’t remember him asking me to come in earlier.’’
Djuana watched her boss shake his head and look away. He pulled a cigarette from his shirt’s breast pocket. He lit it, and inhaled deeply.
“I hear that you are living with that baseball player.’’
“Excuse me?’’ Djuana unfolded her legs and leaned forward.
“You’re living with him, ain’t you? It is common knowledge, right?’’
“Wait,’’ she put the palm of her hand up toward her boss. “What does that have to do with work?’’
“Everything. Everybody knows you don’t care about this job anymore. They have pools going on when you’re going to quit.’’
The anger began to boil in Djuana’s skin. “So, that’s why everybody has been fucking with me?’’
Thompson became defensive, “There’s nobody fucking with you. You just have this Holier than Thou attitude.’’
“This is bullshit!’’
“Look at that, still ain’t got no class.’’
“What?’’ Djuana stood.
“You can go now. But this will be put in your records. One more written complaint and you will be fired.’’
“You know something, fuck you and this whole bullshit store. I quit. To hell with all of you.’’
Djuana quit her job with seven hours left in her shift; seven hours before Jack would be picking her up. She jumped on a bus and rode to Tudor. There, she found the apartment empty, her brother was in summer day camp, and her mother was at work.
The apartment felt comfortable, yet distant; as if she had been on a long vacation. She put her bag down on the chair near the door, and slowly inspected the apartment. Nothing had changed, but it seemed different. She couldn’t place the smell, or the feeling. It was as if she no longer lived there. She didn’t. She made her way to her bedroom, and it was spotless. Her bed was made with her spread on it. There was nothing on the floor. No clothes hanging on the back of the door or bulging out of the closet.
She sat on her bed and picked up her phone. She kicked off her mules and fell back onto the pillows as Tia’s phone rang.
“I did it,’’ Djuana exhaled into the phone.
“Did what?’’ Tia asked, standing in the kitchen completely puzzled. She was in the middle of making a sandwich for breakfast.
“Kicked that pain in-the-neck-job to the curb.’’
“Now what,’’ Tia said, quietly biting into her tuna salad sandwich.
“I have to tell Jack,’’ Djuana sighed.
Tia swallowed. “That shouldn’t be a big deal. He wanted you to quit.’’
“Yeah, but I don’t want him to think I will be dependent on him.’’
“Please. Y’all talking about getting married, so then, it will be the two of you from now on. And, the kind of guy that he is, he will always take care of you, and he won’t be worried about how much you add to the pot.’’
“Yeah, I guess.’’ Djuana knew Tia was right, but she just couldn’t get herself to agree.
Jack allowed Oscar to drive him to Alice’s in his BMW. When they arrived, some time between three and four in the afternoon, the restaurant was empty. Salese came through the glass doors directly after them, patting the ballplayers on their backs.
“You guys are having an early supper,’’ he said, his horn case strapped to his left shoulder.
Jack shook Salese’s hand and hugged him. Oscar’s attention was at the bar, where to women were fingering spicy wings.
“You kinda early yourself,’’ Jack said.
“Kinda. My band doesn’t go on until six, but I usually get here early and grub up. Let me sit with you guy’s and break bread.’’
Alice greeted them after the hostess sat them. “My favorite men. And, you too Oscar.’’
“Alice, get off my back.’’ Oscar replied.
“That ain’t what you said last night.’’
Jack laughed. Salese was oblivious. He looked over the menu. which he knew by heart. “I know what I want.’’
“Jack’s treating,’’ O declared. “He’s ready to jump the broom, so he might as well learn what it feels like to be broke.’’
Jack playfully glared at his friend.
Alice snatched a chair from the next table, which was occupied by a couple, and squeezed her way in between Jack and Oscar. She lowered herself near Jack’s lap and whispered:
“You marrying Djuana?’’
“Yeah,’’ Jack answered in his normal voice level. “I just bought the ring.’’
“That’s so sweet. That girl loves you.’’
Salese patted his shoulder, “That’s a great man, you two make a great couple.’’
Oscar jumped up, digging in his pockets he said, “I’m going to play some tunes on the box.’’ He went over to the CD jukebox, where two women were selecting tunes.
“Let me see the ring,’’ Alice beamed.
“It’ll be ready at five.’’
“That bad boy is smokin’, right,’’ Alice sat up, not concealing any teeth. “I know you went all out.’’
“Of course.’’
“That’s so nice. Does she know?’’
“Nope. I’m gonna surprise her at the game.’’
“That’s wonderful. You make sure you bring her here, I’ll make something nice for you two.’’
A waitress came to the table, and Alice grabbed her down to her face level. She whispered some orders below the music, pointing at each man individually.
“I’ve got some champagne in the back. This calls for a celebration.’’
“No!’’ Jack protested. “Nothing loud.’’
“Calm down! You know me better than that.’’
“If you need a band,’’ Salese said. “I’m quite sure we’re available.’’
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,’’ Jack replied.
Alice reached over and touched his thigh, “You guys set a date?’’
“No. For the most part, I think she’s going to be totally surprised.’’
“Damn, she’s so lucky, ’’Alice squeezed Jack’s thigh.
“Yeah, she is, isn’t she?’’ Jack grinned.
While Jack, Oscar and Salese ate, the eatery began to crowd. Suddenly, like most days after four p.m. at Alice’s, there was a wait as long as 10 minutes for a table. The growing chatter around the men caused Jack to check his watch; he still had plenty time to enjoy his food.
Dexter Forns pushed open the glass doors, holding them for his wife, Sahmara. She waited inside for him, then he led her to the bar. There he ordered drinks for them. He kissed her cheek and went to put them on the waiting list for a table before the drinks arrived. That’s when he noticed Jack. He played it off, at first. But he would look around for Djuana every chance he could.
Sahmara looked good. She had lost 10 pounds in the month since giving birth to their second boy. She had turned into a workout freak, building a collection of exercise tapes and gadgets, and a health food nut, forsaking red meat. Dexter ignored most of his wife’s new habits. He bought his own food, usually some sort of fast food. Sahmara was also a homebody that attracted Dexter to her when they first met. He could date her, and many others, and not worry about seeing her when out with the others.
Sahmara gave in to Dexter and allowed him to take her out to dinner because she really wanted to hear some jazz, and he bought her a new dress and shoes for the occasion.
“This place is kinda crowded for a Tuesday,’’ Sahmara commented when her husband returned to the bar.
“It gets worse than this later in the week,’’ Dexter said. “But we won’t have that long of a wait, Babe.’’
“I wish you could get weekends off sometime,’’ Sahmara commented.
“Why? You never want to go anywhere anyway.’’
Dexter picked up his drink, sipping the Tom Collins and surveying the scene. Djuana’s here somewhere, he assured himself. He just wanted to look at her, hoping she would be wearing a tight dress, showing those legs.
The hostess lightly touched Dexter and he jumped out of his skin, spilling his drink on the floor in front of him. She apologized, and the bartender swiftly mixed him another.
“What’s wrong with you?’’ Sahmara asked him.
“Nothing! The bitch gonna roll up on me like a cop and shit. She scared the shit out of me!’’
“I’m sorry, Mister,’’ the girl said.
“It’s okay,’’ Sahmara assured her.
The hostess led them to their table, further in the back. Jack, and Oscar, saw them go by. Jack looked up from his plate, mouth full, but didn’t recognize Dexter.
“Motherfucker,’’ Dexter whispered. His wife heard him.
“What’s the matter?’’
“That motherfucker staring at you and shit.’’
“So?’’ his wife was agitated. “Take it as a compliment for once.’’
Jack looked behind him, “What that guy say?’’
O was laughing, “Talking about me. I was staring at his girl’s ass. She need to take off that dress, it’s too small for her BIG ass.’’
“You have to start some shit?’’ Jack asked him.
Oscar laughed harder, “I ain’t do anything!’’
“Well, you could at least show some couth and whisper.’’
Salese continued to savor his steak. But his eyebrows raised when Dexter reappeared standing over Jack.
“Something funny?’’ Dexter asked in a menacing tone.
Jack sobered immediately. He wiped his face with his hand cloth. “Yo, hold up, don’t stand over me.’’
Jack moved to rise, planting one hand on the table, the other on his thigh.
Salese and Oscar sprang up. Oscar’s thigh hit the table, tilting it.
Salese made his way around the table, and slipped between Jack and Dexter. Oscar was already there. All eyes were on Jack and Dexter.
“We don’t want no trouble, baby,’’ Oscar said.
“I know. Y’all don’t want to get fucked up in here.’’
Salese pulled Jack by his arm, then pushed him by the waist. “Come on, Jack let’s go.’’
Something clicked in Jack’s mind, and his memory revealed a vivid picture of Dexter patting his stomach after Jack laid him out.
Dexter pointed at Jack while Salese stood between them. “You a fucking punk,’’ he said.
The commotion drew big attention. Sahmara, though, tried to ignore it. Still sitting at the table, she held her head in her hands.
O massaged his thin mustache, and moved closer to Dexter. “Listen, I’m gon’ save you a beat down. I’ll apologize. I’m sorry your girl has a nice ass, and I’m sorry I was looking at it.
“How’s that?’’
Sahmara arrived at that instant. “Come on, Dexter, please can we just have dinner?’’
“I oughta bust your ass,’’ Dexter near muttered to Oscar.
O separated his arms, “Go for yours.’’
“Oscar,’’ Jack yelled.
Salese stayed between Jack and the argument.
Dexter allowed his wife to pull him away, then as they reached their table, he spun around and busted into a sprint and leaped into Oscar. O quickly backpedaled and tagged Dexter’s face with two quick punches. Dexter went down and Oscar was on top, his elbows flying up and down and he rained punches on Dexter’s head.
Jack and Salese were there in seconds, pulling O up. Dexter’s body was in a protective ball; the fetal position on the ground. His wife had to squeeze through the crowd to get to him.
Alice came barreling through the towering crowd. “Oh no. Oh no. Cut the shit out. Don’t wreck my place!’’
Jack and Salese yanked and pulled Oscar away. He was smiling, with a devilish grin, not resisting.
“Oooo, boy!’’ O sneered. “I busted that skull! You see that?’’
“Shut up, O,’’ Jack scolded him. “What got into you?’’
“Ah, man, relax. I just needed to kick some ass.’’
Salese shook his head. “Man, that was stupid. You know that asshole is going to sue you?’’
“Fuck him.’’
“That guy is Djuana’s ex,’’ Jack explained. “He was looking for a fight.’’
“More reason to bust his ass,’’ Oscar checked his knuckles. The one on his right hand’s middle finger was cut. “And, I bet he ain’t proud he found a fight.’’
Alice zipped through the crowded restaurant to Dexter’s table, as the food arrived.
“You have to leave,’’ she said, just as the couple had regained their bearings.
The bus boy froze. She motioned him to take the food back.
“Excuse me,’’ Dexter said. “Those guys were rude to my wife.’’
“I’m sorry. Please leave, or else I will have to call the cops.’’
“Call the fucking cops, I ain’t done shit.’’
Alice raised her head about the silent restaurant. Salese was there before she could call for help.
“Yo, rise up, Brother,’’ Salese said.
“Oh, so those baseball players get much respect here?’’
“You don’t,’’ Alice didn’t hesitate.
The anger was evident in Sahmara’s mannerism as she rose quietly and gathered her handbag. Dexter followed her lead, and they walked out. But as soon as they were outside, Dexter removed his suit’s jacket.
“Fuck this,’’ he was furious, “I’ma kick some ass. Baseball players can’t fight.’’
Inside, Salese and Jack watched him undo his tie and curse at the window, stalking back and forth, while his wife picked up his clothes and tried to reason with him.
“Look at this fool,’’ Salese chuckled, then he looked at Jack. “Don’t go out there, please.’’
“I gotta go get Djuana soon. And, shit, we got a game tonight.’’
Oscar went to the bar, ordered a drink, and began a conversation with a pretty lady who was waiting for a table with her two friends. In a matter of seconds he had her clean his cut knuckle with a wet napkin and kiss it.
Jack double-parked the Pathfinder in front of Djuana’s building, and Djuana briskly walked to the truck with her arms folded across her chest and a steady frown. She smiled at him as she got in and gave him a wet hello kiss.
“How did you get here from work? I’ma have to get you a car.’’
“You don’t have to do that,’’ she said feebly.
“I know I don’t have to. Maybe I want to so you can get around easier when I’m in town.’’
Djuana looked out of her window as the truck drove off.
“I thought you might bring Devon to the game.’’
“No.’’
She was going to give short answers, let her anger simmer until she could get the questions out without bitterness. Her heart knew better than her mind that Jack was the man she loved, and there was no reason to be angry with him.
“I was going to bring him,’’ she opened up, “but he had plans to spend the night with a friend down the street.’’
Jack did a double take at Djuana. She was frowning, one hand rubbing her forehead. “What’s wrong?’’
She looked over at him, “What happened at Alice’s?’’
Jack looked forward into traffic. Then, as if he found the answer, “Your ex tried to pick a fight with me and O.’’
“Were you going to mention it?’’
“No. I wasn’t.’’
Djuana shook her head. “Why not?’’
“Djuana, I hate how that man hurt you. I don’t ever want you to have to hear about him, think about him or see him.’’
“That’s not realistic. I dated him for seven years.’’
“Yeah, I know, but. I don’t want to talk about him.’’
“Did y’all fight?’’
“I didn’t,’’ Jack sighed. “He was upset because O was looking at his wife and they got into it.’’
Although the friend that called and told Djuana of the fight had mentioned that Dexter was there with a woman, the word wife sliced through Djuana’s soul like a sharp saber.
“She was there?’’ she whispered.
“Yep.’’
“You had them thrown out?’’
“No. He asked for it himself.’’
Djuana again returned her sights and thoughts out her window. That motherfucker is married and I’m not.
The truck stopped at a red light on 20th Avenue and Sandy Boulevard, and Jack figured this was the best time for a pleasant surprise.
“I got something for you, today.’’
“What?’’
“First, are you going to let me put it on you right now?’’
Djuana smiled. “Wait. What is it?’’
“No, am I going to be able to put it on you? Yes or no?’’
Djuana sat up. “Okay. Sure,’’ she said confidently.
Jack reached across and under her seat, and Djuana’s eyes followed the long, wrapped box and his hand go from under her to before her eyes. He handed it to her.
“Open it.’’
She did, slowly. The gold, link ankle bracelet glittered in the darkening cab of the Pathfinder.
“It’s beautiful,’’ Djuana gasped.
Jack gently took it from her soft hands. “Give me your left ankle.’’
Djuana turned her body, sliding up her long skirt and lifting her leg over the gear console. Jack flipped her strapless shoes onto the floor at her other foot. While horns angrily honked in the background Jack clipped the jewelry onto her soft, wide leg. The feel of his strong hands, although only touching her foot for a second, excited Djuana.
“I love you, Jack,’’ she said.
Jack lifted her foot to meet his lowering lips, and planted a soft kiss on the top of her toes, then licked up to her ankle. He kissed the chain, then released her foot.
“I know you love me, that’s why I’d do anything to keep you smiling.’’
Take away the first inning, and the game that night was relatively a boring one. The Crowns exploded for seven runs in the first inning. Oscar hit a mammoth home run into the third tier of the right field upper decks. Jack doubled after him, and Don hit another long home run, this one to left. That was it for excitement. The Crowns defeated New York, 7-0.
Jack couldn’t wait for the game to end. He had come up with a perfect plan to pop the question that night. After the game, reporters kept him busy for half an hour with questions about his first game back in Portland since being released. They surrounded his stall, forming a semi-circle around him as he sat, slowly undressing, fielding questions.
Oscar came to his stall, next to Jack’s and couldn’t reach his possessions.
“You motherfuckers have to move. Y’all all in my shit.’’
They moved, huddling closer to Jack. O wasn’t satisfied.
“Yo, keep moving, get the fuck away from me.’’
Jack patiently answered the steady stream of repetitious questions. Then, as the other reporter’s inquires died down, Kristen began grilling him.
“So, I hear you’re going to ask Djuana Pioneer to marry you tonight?’ went Kris’ first question.
The other reporters fell silent, yet perked up. The television cameras were clicked back on and aimed at Jack again, and microphones edged closer.
“Yes. I bought the ring this afternoon.’’
“Is it true you plan to retire after this season?’’
“I haven’t given retirement any thought. Right now I’m just trying to help the Crowns reach the playoffs.’’
A female reporter from Portland’s ABC affiliate beamed a bright smile at Jack, “So, how do you plan on proposing?’’
Jack felt Kris’ stare. “That’s confidential until I do it.’’
“You guys set a date?’’ a usually heavy-hitting reporter threw in.
“Not yet. Look, it’ll be better to talk about this tomorrow.’’
“It’ll be old news then, Jack,’’ Kris said. “People want to know all about your plans to wed the woman who has been the cause of so much turmoil in your season.’’
Jack stood, wearing only a Crowns gray T-shirt and gold spandex shorts. “That’s it. I’ll be glad to talk about it tomorrow, when she’s wearing the ring.’’
“Let’s see the ring,’’ Kris gave Jack a sly grin. “You bought it on West Burnside, right?’
Jack watched reporters jot down that little tidbit. “Doing your homework, huh?’’
Kristen’s smile dimmed. “I live right around the corner from Gene’s.’’
“Let’s see the ring, Jack,’’ the female from ABC said’ ignoring Kristen’s hurt. She fingered her cameraman to Jack. “It’ll make great news. Women all over the state will be jealous.’’
Jack stared at Kris. Her eyes glossed, but she smiled. She was not hiding her hurt well, although she thought the mask was working. Jack slowly reached up in his locker and brought down the box. Kris closed her eyes, she darted away crying. Jack forced his eyes front, and sighed.
“Bring it to your waist, and then open it,’’ the ABC cameraman said.
“Wait!’’ yelled a newspaper photographer. “I gotta change film!’’
In seconds, everyone was ready. The clubhouse silenced. Juris came out of his office. Jack opened the box, and it was empty. He panicked, until he heard his teammates laughing over in a corner, near the infielder’s section.
“You fucking Puerto Rican!’’ Jack bellowed, forgetting the cameras were rolling.
Juan paused his laugh long enough to correct Jack, “Hey, I ain’t no Puerto Rican, I’m Dominican, baby!’’
Jack rushed him, knocking over two reporters, and caught him after a short chase.
“I’m worried, Jack’’ Djuana said, frowning while cuddling into Jack on the sofa.
“About what,’’ Jack answered, his fingers in her hair, eyes on the movie they rented.
“A job. What am I going to do?’’
“Don’t be worried,’’ Jack’s eyes never left the screen. “I’ll call Karl in the morning, and he’ll find you something.’’
Djuana didn’t perk up. “I have to work.’’
“I said, don’t worry about it.’’
Djuana snuggled into his chest, twirling her body to face his. Her body warmed as Jack planted light kisses on her forehead, nose, cheeks and then lips. As soon as his lips arrived to hers, she gave him a soul kiss that heated his furnace.
“Let’s don’t go out,’’ Djuana panted between licks.
“We have to.’’
“It’s late,’’ Djuana worked her torso onto Jack’s lap. “ You have a day game tomorrow.’’
“We haveta go.’’
Djuana pulled his T-shirt down until the shirt’s front stretched to reveal his chest. She flicked her moist tongue over his muscular breastplate. Jack held her hair, gently at first, then pulled the hair to get her away. Djuana’s tongue extended its full length, arousing Jack all the more.
Her eyes flared with eroticism, “I don’t want to go out. I want you in me.’’
Jack gulped, trying to shift his body so that his crotch wouldn’t be so comfortable underneath hers. “It’ll only take a minute.’’
“Jack.’’
“We’ll be back before you know it.’’
“Jack,’’ Djuana removed her shirt and reached behind her back for her bra.
Djuana was upset when they got in the Pathfinder. She sat with her arms folded and lips poked out. “Why does Oscar want us to come over so late at night? It’s almost 11:30 and you guys have a early game in the afternoon?’’
“I don’t know. You know how he is,’’ Jack hid his glee.
Jack sped down the deserted Foothills Freeway. By the time he reached the Main Street exit, Djuana had fallen asleep. To Jack’s delight, it had began to rain lightly before they reached Main and Tenth Avenue. Jack pulled over on Tenth, waited for a car to pass, and then pulled the truck across the street, double-parking on the wrong side. He got out, and saw Djuana stir.
“Where are we?’’ she said groggily as Jack reached her side of the truck. “You parked on the wrong side.’’
Jack opened her door. “I know. Come on out.’’
“It’s raining, Jack. I only have on these shorts.’’
“It’s just drizzling. Come on.’’
Jack backed away, and Djuana got out. She reached back in and grabbed Jack’s baseball cap.
“I think you’re losing your mind, Newhouse.’’
“Maybe.’’
He took her hand and led her across the doubled yellow lines in back of the Pathfinder and to the crosswalk. Another car passed them, the passengers craning their heads to get a glimpse of the nuts walking in the rain.
“Jack. What are you doing?’’
He stopped in the crosswalk, looking down, then out towards the buildings, approximating where he had found her four months ago. Djuana was flustered; feeling hassled and edgy.
She whined, “I want to go home.’’
Jack moved closer to her, putting her arms around his waist. “I thought I would never in my life see a more beautiful woman than the one I saw that night. But each day you show me I was wrong.’’
Jack kissed both of her hands. “I love you, Djuana.’’
“Yes, I know, but-’’
Jack continued, “When I met you here five months ago, my first impression was that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Now, I know that you are not only beautiful, but smart, caring and affectionate and a great lover when you are devoted.’’
Djuana froze. She was puzzled, trying to swiftly pick up on what was happening. Was he proposing? She took in a quick survey of the area. This is where he picked me up that night.
Jack’s right hand went into his pants pocket and pulled the ring out; it was in tissue, no box. He uncovered it, and took Djuana’s hand. She quivered when he touched her, her hand jerking out of his. Her hands were hot, and became sweaty despite the damp weather. She rubbed them nervously. Her eyes moistened, but she wasn’t crying.
“I want to marry you, baby,’’ Jack calmly retook her hand. “I want you to be my wife.’’
Djuana couldn’t stop the tears, or curb the blush, while Jack slipped the ring onto her finger with ease. Jack twirled it, noticing the ring fit loosely, yet was not coming off. It fit as Gene said it would.
Djuana’s left hand burned, she had a feeling of streaking nerves from her heart to the hand. The ring was heavy on her finger.
“You like it, baby?’’
“I love it,’’ she said, the tears now flowing evenly and her nose leaking.
“Does it fit okay? I took one of your other rings and...’’
She leaped into Jack’s arms, his head knocking off her hat. “It fits wonderfully.’’
She squeezed him into a tight, snug embrace. Her wet nose, cheeks and lips rubbed against Jack’s back. He held onto her.
“So, is that a yes?’’