A newly shorn Ted dropped the papers off in his dad’s hospital room and started to remove his clothes. He had brought the old scuba equipment from his boyhood closet. He put it on right there, flippers and all. He paraded back and forth in front of Marty as he had when he was a kid hoping to get his father’s attention. The snorkel was in his mouth and condensation soon formed on the mask like tears so it seemed to Ted he was looking out at the world through a lens of sadness. A nurse saw this amphibious spectacle and went running to alert someone, but just then Mariana walked by and stopped her. She looked in and saw Ted, mostly naked in a scuba outfit, walking back and forth doing silly dances in front of Marty. Ted glanced up, and he and Mariana saw each other. Ted held her gaze for a few moments, and then turned his back to her. He adjusted his mask and snorkel for another dive and went back to dancing for his father.
As he danced, the Yankees lost to Cleveland, 9–2, and the Red Sox beat Toronto 5–0. The two rivals ended the season in the same place they began it, even, 162 games erased in a blink. The past four months never happened. The slate was clean. There was only now.