August 2008
Orlando, Florida
“What can I get you, pal?” the bartender inquired.
“A beer,” Gord replied. He glanced around the sparsely populated restaurant. “Lunch rush already been through?”
“Not yet.” The bartender checked his watch. “It will start to fill up once the power lunch crowd gets here. In fifteen minutes the place will be jammed.”
“Glad I got here early, then.” Gord slapped a five dollar bill down on the mahogany bar.
The bartender slid the bottle of beer in front of him. “Here you go.”
“Keep the change.”
“Cheers.”
Gord took a slug of the ice-cold lager. The intense humidity caused a slick film of moisture to form on the outside of the bottle — it looked like it was sweating.
Good. I’m not the only one, Gord muttered internally. He wiped his perspiring brow.
The Glade Restaurant staff had decided to forego the building’s industrial-strength air conditioning system. Instead, the windows around the dining floor were left open in the hopes of creating a cross-breeze. It worked, but the hot August wind slapped Gord in the face like steam emanating from a blast furnace.
He kept one eye on the door. Over the next few minutes, Gord observed a steady procession of people flow into the restaurant. The tables on the main dining floor quickly filled up, and space at the bar was at a premium. Gord finished his beer and tried to order another.
“How many drinks do you need to get through this lunch?”
He smirked and spun around. “That depends on how boring my company is.”
“Always such a gentleman,” Kim said sarcastically.
They hugged. A good hug this time. Their bodies clung close together, partly by necessity, as the bar area overflowed with people.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t been here long. You look good.” Kim wore a form-fitting blouse and a knee-high navy blue skirt.
“Thanks,” she smiled. “Where are we sitting?”
“I got us a table on the patio. Follow me.”
Gord guided Kim through the crowd, ushering her along with his right hand strategically placed on the small of her back. The patio was quiet and secluded from the main dining area, allowing them to talk without uncomfortably straining across their table.
“How long have you been in Lakeland?” Kim asked after their waitress had taken their drink orders.
“About a year. Detroit signed me out of an independent league team in Joliet, Illinois, last August.”
“Will they move you up soon?”
“I haven’t pitched that well this year, so that’s doubtful. But I’ve really turned a corner over the last two weeks. I’ve reeled off ten scoreless innings in my last five outings.”
“That’s great.”
“What about you? You’ve been at the same station since you left school?”
“Yep. I started off as a runner behind the scenes, but after six months they let me try some small on-air segments. I tested really well, so I’ve been getting more and more on-camera responsibility.”
“Nice. You still living with the folks?”
Kim laughed that infectious chuckle Gord found so endearing. “No! Thank God!” She took a drink of the white wine the waitress had just placed in front of her. “I moved out, uh, July of last year? I bought a condo just off the 408 overlooking Lake Lucerne. On Orange Avenue.”
“I have no idea where that is, but it sounds nice.”
The elegant presentation in which Glade Restaurant served their fare was destroyed once Gord and Kim dug into their meals. The remnants of Gord’s angel hair primavera and Kim’s sesame ginger chicken littered their respective plates. They spent the majority of their meal catching up and reminiscing about their university days.
Of course, the trip down memory lane explicitly avoided the unpleasantness of that fateful night three years earlier. Neither Gord nor Kim was ready or willing to address the issues that led to the termination of their friendship.
“Remember in second year, a bunch of us from the floor went out for Alexandra’s birthday?” Kim began.
“Is that when we went to that martini bar?” Gord asked, trying to recall the night.
“Yeah, there were about ten of us. I think you and Allan were the only guys.”
“Oh, yeah. That was a bad experience.”
Kim laughed. “You were in rare form that night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk.”
“Well, it wasn’t my fault. I’d never had a martini before. I thought they were like mixed drinks. I didn’t realize they were pure alcohol.”
Kim shook her head. “Being an idiot isn’t a good excuse,” she retorted.
“Hey,” Gord pointed his left index finger at Kim for emphasis. “If you girls could have handled your alcohol a little better, I wouldn’t have had to finish off everyone’s martinis plus my own.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, big guy. All I know is we had photographic evidence of you passed out on the toilet in the unisex bathroom.” Kim laughed loudly at the mental image she just created. She always knew how to put Gord in his place.
“But, the important thing is, I’ve matured greatly since then,” Gord explained, trying to save face.
Kim looked at him unconvinced. “Yeah, I hear all professional baseball players behave with the utmost maturity.”
Gord flashed a knowing grin. “Sometimes.”
Kim smiled back. The waitress walked over to hard-sell some of Glade Restaurant’s renowned dessert options. Gord and Kim both politely declined as the waitress removed their plates and cutlery.
Gord took a deep breath. He had been searching for a way to broach this topic in the natural flow of conversation, but he had been unsuccessful thus far. The suspense was killing him. He had to know.
“So, how’s the love life?” he asked nonchalantly. “Is there a Mr. Bell on the horizon?” Gord continued, hoping his cavalier attitude would mask his unrelenting curiosity.
“What love life?” Kim chortled. “I’ve been way too focused on getting my career off the ground to have a serious relationship. I’ve dated a few guys here and there, but nothing of great consequence.”
Gord remained stoic throughout Kim’s answer to his question, but inside he was doing cartwheels. She’s single! This is great news, he thought. The corners of his mouth desperately wanted to curve up into a broad smile, but Gord managed to keep his composure. Maybe I can get another shot?
“Gord?”
“Uh, what? I’m sorry.” He had been too busy trying to keep his jubilation under wraps to hear.
“I said, ‘What about you?’ You know, dating-wise.”
“Oh, uh, well, pretty much same as you. The constant travelling makes it tough. Plus, there are certain ‘temptations’ on the road that don’t translate to a committed relationship.”
Kim looked at him with a combination of pity and disgust. “You’re still whoring your way through life?”
“No, no. Definitely not. I mean I’ve dated a few girls here and there and met some women in different cities, but I’m not out there looking to hook up every night.”
She tilted her head skeptically.
He continued. “I’m serious. I have to live vicariously through the guys right out of high school for that stuff.”
“Wow. Maybe you are maturing. Little Gordie’s growing up,” she joked with a condescending tone.
Gord rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”
The waitress returned with their bill. Both Gord and Kim reached for it simultaneously, bumping their hands together in the process.
“I got it, Kim.”
“No, no. You don’t have to.”
“I want to. Lunch was my suggestion. My treat.”
“You sure? We can split it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gord exclaimed with finality.
He grabbed his wallet out of the back pocket of his shorts, did some quick mental math to calculate the price with tip, and slapped his plastic down on the table.
“Thanks, Gord.” Kim checked her watch. “Well, I should really be heading back to the office. I’m just finishing up a story on the perils of Internet dating.”
Gord chuckled. “Sounds like fun.”
“Oh, it’s riveting stuff.” Kim smoothed her skirt with her hands and stood up.
Her sharply defined, tanned legs were directly at Gord’s eye level. He watched for a split second before standing. His physical attraction to Kim had not lessened at all.
“I had a great time, Gord. Thanks. We should do this again.”
Kim took a step toward him and they hugged warmly.
“Absolutely,” Gord replied. “Actually, we have a two-game series here on the fifteenth and sixteenth. I’ll be pitching in one of those games. Do you want to come watch? I can get you a ticket. It will be just like old times.”
Kim considered his offer. “Sure, I’d love to. Give me a call when you know what game you’re pitching.”
“Awesome,” Gord replied. “Have a good day, Kim.”
“You too, Gord. ’Bye.”
He watched her leave the patio as several pairs of male eyes followed suit. After paying the bill, Gord didn’t so much walk out of Glade Restaurant as he floated happily back to his car.
He was going to see Kim again and she was going to watch him pitch. He just hoped his strong performances would continue and he’d be able to show off with Kim in attendance.