Page 112 of I Saw You First

“Every time I hear The Beatles sing ‘Here Comes the Sun,’ I think of you. I can’t imagine my life without the sunshine you bring to it.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic.” I sigh with pure happiness. “I love it. Help me put it on?”

Wil stands up and walks around the table. He gently lifts my hair and places it over my shoulder, then runs a finger across the back of my neck, light and tender. I reach back with the chain, and he clasps it, then bends down to kiss the side of my neck that’s exposed. When he sits back down, he scoots his chair closer, nuzzling me as I open the other gift, a white T-shirt with the green Hometown League logo. I hold it up, wrinkling my brow, and look at him for an explanation.

“Want to go to a ball game?” he asks.

“When? Where?” We’ve been to several Minnesota Twins and St. Paul Saints games, not to mention summer Hometown League games. Tamsa and I are both buddies this season.

“Tonight. It’s the annual Twins game with the Hometown League. My grandparents and uncle will be there. What do you say?”

I bite my bottom lip. I’ve met most of his family, including Mimi and Bob, but it hasn’t worked out for me to meet Howie. I’m strangely nervous about meeting him—he’s so important to Wil and I really want him to like me—but I smile broadly.

“I say, take me out to the ball game.”

The game doesn’t start until seven, but there’s a catered picnic in a small plaza area outside one of the gates at five. Because we make out on the cloud couch after I open my gifts and change into the Hometown League T-shirt (which ends up on the living room floor for a while), we arrive at the picnic as the caterers are packing everything away.

I walk through the crowd with Wil’s palm against the small of my back. He nods at a group of coaches and board members. Sam and Adriana are at the bar. Adriana calls out “Happy birthday!” across the picnic area, and Sam gives us a thumbs up.

Kelsey and Andre are deep in conversation with another couple I don’t recognize, Kelsey holding a glass of wine. At a ball game. She’s also wearing a skirt and blouse and her usual clunky shoes. Her scarf, at least, is Minnesota Twins red, white, and blue. She’s mellowed out since having the baby, a sweet little thing named Lauren, and I’ve found that I enjoy talking with her. She’s also slightly less of a fan of Mr. Jefferson A. Wilshire III after she found out that he’d convinced Felix—that snake!—to block my attempts at promotion. I always knew there was something shady about that guy. He “resigned,” but Wil’s dad denied any part of it, and who would argue with him?

Kelsey also convinced Mr. Wilshire that Wil had already given enough of his life to Hometown Electronics that he shouldn’t have to pay him back for his college tuition. Wil, of course, refused the offer, and they argued for hours before they agreed on a prorated amount and a payment plan.

Wil heads toward an older white man with Down syndrome sitting at a picnic table with Kaplan and Jordan. His dark hair is short with a receding hairline, he rocks a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and he’s wearing a Minnesota Twins T-shirt. He grins and waves.

“Wil!” he cries. “You’re late!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Wil hugs the man, who is about a foot shorter than Wil. “Uncle Howard, I’d like to introduce you to someone very special. This is my girlfriend, Abbey.” He turns toward me. “Abbey, meet Howard Kaplan, my mom’s younger brother, who loves baseball more than anyone I know.”

“More than that, even,” he says. “Call me Howie, please. All my friends do.”

“So nice to meet you, Howie. You must be a big Twins fan.”

“Yes, the biggest,” he says in a serious tone, which reminds me of my very first conversation with Wil. “I was at game six of the World Series in 1991 when Kirby Puckett made that amazing catch and then won the game with a walk-off homer in the eleventh inning.”

“That’s incredible!” Even though I wouldn’t have called myself a baseball fan until recently, everyone in the state of Minnesota was a Twins fan that year and in ’87 when they won the World Series. “I watched that game in my dorm room.”

“I have a Homer Hanky signed by every single player on the roster that year.” Howie puffs up with pride.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Wil says. “He’s got a lot of Twins memorabilia.”

“And I’ve met Harmon Killebrew seven times!”

As we walk toward the entrance, some of the kids give Wil high-fives, including his buddy, Liam, who seems to have grown half a foot in the last year.

“Wilsy!” he cries. “You brought your girlfriend.” He says it in a sing-songy voice.

“I did,” Wil says. “You remember Abbey, right? If you’re lucky, when you’re older, you’ll find someone as smart and funny as she is.”

“Smart and funny?” the kid says. “How about gorgeous?”

“That, too,” Wil agrees.

“I’ve always wondered what she’s doing with a loser like you.” Charming rolls up in a motorized wheelchair. He and Wil do a complicated handshake, fist bump, elbow knock, finger waggle thing that ends in them yelling, “Booyah!”

Every time I see him with the Hometown athletes, I fall in love a teensy bit more.

“Come on, let’s go watch some baseball,” he says and motions for Liam and Charming to go ahead.