Brook and Tracy looked at each other. Something was going on that I wasn’t aware of, and it looked like they wanted to tell me.
“Spill it,” I ordered.
“I guess I’m being selfish, and want to spend more time with you,” Brook said.
While what she said sounded plausible, she was lying. Brook only had to ask, and I would spend time with her. She and I had a great time together! I loved our adventures. Plus, our personal time together was special, too.
The problem was that the same might be said about Pam, Halle, and Zoe. I wasn’t willing to give any of them up, nor to choose one over the others. If Brook pushed the issue, I would give her up. The other girls weren’t ready for a commitment. Pam and I had talked about this several times, and we wanted to be friends. Halle knew I had finally broken up, or whatever you wanted to call it, with Tami just a short time ago. Halle told me she didn’t want to be my rebound girl. The only one I hadn’t really talked with was Zoe. We had just been getting to know each other, so I doubted she was behind this. Finally, Brook never once gave me any indication that she wanted anything more than to have fun.
Something didn’t ring true. I gave both girls a serious look, and they wouldn’t meet my eyes. Apparently, they knew something, but whatever it was, it didn’t have anything to do with either of them personally. The only possibility I could think of was that Zoe might have stronger feelings for me than I intended. We had just had a romantic evening where she gave me her precious gift. I felt much closer to her than I had only twenty-four hours ago. But that really didn’t ring true because Zoe was not a timid girl. If she had something to say to me, she’d be the one to tell me.
Tracy saved them from me ‘putting them to the question.’
“Do you think my boobs are bigger?” she asked.
I burst out laughing as she pushed her arms together to make them look bigger. This was one topic of conversation I was willing to indulge in. Soon both Tracy and Brook had me distracted. I would file this conversation away for another day. Today we had a baseball game to enjoy!
◊◊◊
We arrived at Wrigley Field just before four o’clock. The parking lot on Sheffield Avenue charged me eighty bucks to park for the game. That was highway robbery. We found the Will Call window and picked up our tickets, which had a face value of $250. Each. I would have to talk to my grandma. I was sure her still being a major donor had a great deal to do with why she received the tickets. I might have to contribute this year.
When we arrived at the Budweiser Patio, we found we weren’t the only ones who had come early. There were about forty people already there. It was nestled in the corner bleachers where right field and the first base line came together. They had installed a seventy-five foot LED message board on the right-field wall. It was just under where there were three rows of bleacher seating, and then behind that was the party deck. There had been an uproar when the bleacher seating had been taken out. The Cubs advertised the Budweiser Patio as being similar to the rooftop experience you could have from the buildings behind the outfield.
I made my way through the crowd, introducing myself to everyone. Tracy and Brook had found a table, and they each had a beer in front of them. I figured they couldn’t get into too much trouble, so I continued to mingle. I found that the crowd was a mix of big donors and politicians. I smiled when I saw Jack Mass, Harper’s dad.
“Hey, Buddy. I see you’re tearing it up on the football field. You plan on winning state this year?”
“Of course. Where’s your better half?” I asked, referring to Cook County State’s Attorney Bev Mass.
He turned and waved to her. She’d been cornered by a couple of guys and looked relieved when she came over.
“David,” Bev said as she hugged me.
“Hey, where’s your Cubs jersey?” I asked.
“I don’t have one,” she confessed.
I grabbed her hand.
“Come on, I’ll buy you one before this gets too crazy,” I said.
I know. How dumb must I be to buy a jersey at the ballpark? Then suddenly it was all worth it. Signing jerseys was Brett Healey. He was the Hall of Fame and ten-time All-Star second baseman who played for the Cubs in the ’80s and early ’90s. My dad still told me stories about his historic game against the hated Cardinals. Cub fans knew Brett as a solid-fielding second baseman. In the ninth inning, the Cubs trailed 9–8 and faced the premier relief pitcher of the time, Lindy Baker. Brett, not known for his power, hit a solo shot to tie the game. In the top of the tenth, the Cardinals put two on the board. Then Brett came to bat again, and Cubs radio announcer Hal Petri described it:
”There’s a deep drive, way way back to left center field! At the wall, might be outta here! It is! He did it again! The game is tied! He’s tied it up! Wow! Listen to this crowd! Everyone’s going bananas! What odds would you give me if I told you that Brett Healey would hit two home runs off Lindy Baker?!”
The Cubs went on to win the game in the eleventh, as my dad described it.
So here was my dad’s all-time favorite Cub, signing baseball jerseys. I had to get Dad one. Of course, I might have to wear it today. I brought two of them up to Mr. Healey to sign.
“You play baseball?” Brett asked me.
“Yes, sir. I play for Lincoln High,” I said.
He signed both jerseys, and I handed one to Bev. I wasn’t thinking as I pulled off the jersey I’d worn today and put the signed one on. I heard a gasp, and then blushed when I realized I’d just given my former girlfriend’s mother a little show.
“Aren’t you going to change?” I asked to tease her.
“I think I’ll wait until I’m somewhere other than in the middle of a store.”
When we got back to the Budweiser Patio, the major donors all wanted signed jerseys, so the crowd thinned out. Bev was the hit of the party, and she bragged that I had bought it for her.
That was when the State Troopers entered the party. Governor Higgins and his wife Betty followed them a moment later. While the governor pressed the flesh, I found Tracy and Brook.
“Let’s grab our seats for the game,” I said.
These were not your typical bleacher seats. In front of them was a table where you could put your beer and food. We were seated in the front row, so we had an unobstructed view of the field. I saw Brook had some nasty-looking nachos.
“Where’d you get the food?” I asked.
“Get me a Chicago Dog when you go up,” Tracy blurted.
I guess they weren’t on their first beer. Brook made a general pointing motion towards the back of the patio. The good news was the food was free. I think you got what you paid for. They gave me a drink tray, and I piled hot dogs on it, along with three beers. I figured it was a special day and I would enjoy one while watching the game. I had settled in, eaten one of my hot dogs, and downed half a beer when a shadow fell over me.
“Are you sure you’re old enough to be drinking?” asked a female voice.
I turned and saw Betty Higgins and the governor standing next to us.
“I think it’s okay for something like this,” Governor Higgins said, shaking my hand.
“Governor, Betty,” I said as I stood and shook their hands. “These are my friends Tracy Dole and Brook Davis.”
The governor sat down next to me, and one of his aides brought him a beer and an Italian beef sandwich with sweet and hot peppers on it.
“Where’d he get that?” I asked.
“Peter, bring us five sandwiches,” Governor Higgins said.
“If you feed him, you’ll have to take him home,” Tracy said. “I think that’s why my mom cooks for him. I heard he took his shirt off for Bev Mass. I wonder what she fed him.”