Page 5 of Saved By the Pitcher

Bob snickered. “Hmm, that’s not awkward. You’re taking your girlfriend to a show where you’ll be ogling the man who stars in it.”

Mike narrowed his eyes, even though Bob couldn’t see him. “She’s my ex-girlfriend, and at least I’m letting her see the show before she finds out her new relationship status.”

“When you dump her, don’t tell her you’re bisexual,” Bob warned. “She may be pissed enough to use the information against you. Once you’ve come out, you’ll need to be ready for her social media attacks about how you tricked her.”

“I wasn’t planning to tell her,” Mike assured him. “I haven’t trusted her for a while now, so I haven’t shared much of anything personal about myself.” Mike plopped himself down on the sofa, indulging in a moment of self-loathing. “God, listen to how hypocritical I sound. I’m talking about how I haven’t trusted her while I’ve been withholding from her that I like guys as well as chicks. This is why I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to be a liar by omission. There are times when people have a right to know.”

“Okay. We’ll talk more about it later,” Bob soothed. “Let me put together some ideas. Go enjoy the show. Good thing the theater will be dark so Jessica won’t see you boning for the star.”

* * * *

When Mike and Jessica arrived at the theater, he was pleased to remember he had purchased the two seats closest to the aisle. Once the lights dimmed, he’d be able to stretch his long legs and slump in the seat to avoid people seeing and recognizing him as a celebrity.

“Can I sit on the end?” Jessica asked him before they could park their butts in seats.

“What? Why? I start to get aches from old injuries after an hour of being cramped,” Mike protested.

Jessica leaned in toward Mike’s ear to whisper. “I think I have diarrhea from dinner. Just in case I need to get up.”

Mike grimaced. He realized his reaction proved he didn’t care enough about her. He figured if he loved the person, he would have empathy instead of wishing she’d sit somewhere else in the theater. “Fine.”

“Sorry,” Jessica offered, obviously suspecting Mike was either annoyed, disgusted or both.

Mike walked to the second-to-last seat in the row, sitting next to an older woman who appeared to be of Mexican descent. She was chattering with the young couple that were seated to her left. Mike sighed, worrying the trio would be noisy throughout the program. Mike slouched down in the seat as much as he could to hide from the people who continued to mill about in the aisles. So far, nobody had approached him, and Mike attributed that to the possibility Broadway patrons weren’t interested in sports. Jessica sat next to him, put her bag on the floor then placed her hands on her stomach.

“I hope I can make it through this thing,” she muttered to him. “Can you imagine if I have a major blow-out right in the middle of the show?”

Mike had grown up in a blue-collar home, so he had never thought of himself as classy. But since dating Jessica, he was grateful to his parents that they had instilled in him a sense of decorum. He wondered what had possessed him to accept the first date with Jessica before remembering it was her perfect breasts. Shallowness had a price.

“Excuse me, sir?” the woman on his left asked.

Mike turned to her and saw she was smiling. “Yes?”

“Are you Mike Cooper?”

The lady was the last one in the audience he expected would identify him. “Um, yes. I am. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

The woman beamed. “Oh, did you hear that, puppies? It is Mike Cooper,” she told the pair that had accompanied her.

“I knew it,” he heard the young man reply, leaning over the elderly lady to talk to Mike. “I’m a huge Yankees fan. You were the best relief-pitcher they ever had. You saved so many games for them.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Mike responded with some uneasiness. “Of course, I’m not playing anymore. Listen, I’m trying to keep a low profile, so…”

“Dude, could I get a selfie with you?” the young man asked.

“Ugh. I need to run to the toilet. Did you see where it was?” Jessica exclaimed from his right.

“Oh, maybe get a selfie with me too?” the older woman asked with eyes beaming.

“Did you notice where the restrooms were?” Jessica repeated in a panic.

Mike put up his hands in a surrender pose to stop the people from talking. “Can you all just…” He turned to Jessica and exclaimed with more volume than he had intended, “It was on the right-hand side when you enter the lobby. Christ, just go and stop describing your fucking bowel problems.”

Audience members in front of him turned their heads to the racket behind them. Mike wiped a hand over his face and tried to slouch farther down in the seat.

“You’re making a scene!” Jessica whispered before rising from the seat. “Thank you so much for embarrassing me.” She turned and raced up the aisle toward the rest rooms.

Mike looked back to the elderly woman who appeared to be surprised and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I’ve been under some stress.”