Page 64 of The Sweet Spot

JB: Did you like it?

Whit: It was okay. Your hips still look a little tight.

JB: Marlow.

Why does it feel like he’s growling my last name?

Whit: Yes. I liked it a lot. You were incredible.

JB: Was Larry happy about it?

Whit: Of course. He nearly wept at the sight.

JB: Good. I’ve got to prove myself worthy of you.

Whit: Oh, please. You’re worthy.

JB: I hope so.

Whit: What are you doing after the game?

JB: Going to my hotel room and thinking about the best weekend of my life.

JB: The one I spent with you, in case that wasn’t clear.

Whit: Can you call?

JB: Yes!!!!!

JB: Fuck, how is this my life. I’m going to win this game and then talk to you.

Whit: Don’t get ahead of yourself. You still have another eight and a half innings to go.

JB: Just watch, Coach. This is for you.

I sink into my chair with a smile, looking forward to watching the rest of the game, and trying to keep my excitement about talking to him later from showing.

The way my dad grins, though, makes me think he already knows.

“Wait, what’s that picture of?” JB asks through the phone. We've been talking for the better part of an hour about nothing and everything, and I hate to admit that it's been one of the best nights of my life.

I slow my camera, stopping at the white-framed photograph sitting on the bookshelf of my bedroom at my parents’ house. “That's me when I won my first adult amateur tournament.”

“Shit, Whit. I would've dated the shit out of you if we were in high school together.”

I bark out a laugh, watching him on my phone even though he can't see me because my video is flipped.

“Seriously,” he continues. “I would've given you the best promposal ever. It would start with me inviting you to one of my games. Then, during the seventh-inning stretch, I'd jog out to the mound and steal the microphone.”

“Oh, no.” I flip the phone back around so we can now both see each other.

“Just wait until you hear the rest before you judge. My teammates would come running onto the field carrying giant poster boards. One would say 'You're my favorite thing on the course.' Another would say 'You've been driving me crazy...'“

“How many teammates did you convince?”

“All of them. I bribed them with hot dogs. Anyway, the final two would say, 'I know this is a major question...' and 'I'd be teed off if you said no, but...'“

“Why does this feel like you've thought about this longer than today?”