“Happy Birthday, Beautiful,” I say as I kiss her just below her ear. “We can celebrate later.” I’m unable to gauge her reaction because my name is being called from the podium. I have to give a speech tonight and it’s on the top of the list of things I didn’t want to be doing this evening. I leave Daisy seated at our table as I make my way to the front of the room. Once in place, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and control the inevitable twitch that starts in my hand.
“Good evening.” The applause is loud and continues on for a moment. Once it dies down, I look down at the typed words on the cards in front of me and clear my throat. I should’ve read this before I arrived, but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of seeing Daisy. For someone who hasn’t had any media training, they definitely sent the wrong guy. As I read over the speech, I realize I can’t say any of this stuff.
“I want to say thank you for having Daisy and I tonight as your guests. I think this is the first time I’ve been in a room where no one wants to talk about baseball. I know she’s beautiful, but she’s going home with me.”
Everyone laughs and I half expect Daisy to turn away, but she’s focused on me.
“Steve wanted me to let everyone know that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here, and was kind enough to write my speech. Thing is, I didn’t read it beforehand and I’m not sure it works for tonight.
“We’ve all come together for one reason – to raise money for the community. I’m not going to ask you to open your checkbooks and start scribbling your name. Instead, I’m going to ask that you think about what it means to give back, because sometimes it’s not always about the money. When I’m not playing, I’m walking the children’s wing of the hospital or I’m down at the community center helping to repair a swing set or painting over the graffiti’d walls. I could just give them money, but without volunteers to actually do the work, that money is being spent on contractors when it could be spent directly on the children. My mom always used to say ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him for life.’ Even though I know we’re not teaching these kids to make their own meals, I’d like to think that the same applies here.
“So tonight, when you’re asked to open your checkbooks, please consider volunteering your time as well. One is good but without the other, neither one will go nearly as far.”
Daisy is the first one to stand and start clapping. Others quickly follow her, as the applause grows louder. I’ve had standing ovations before, but this one is by far the best.
“That was amazing,” she says as she molds herself into my arms. Holding her has to be the best thing on earth, and especially right now. I have no doubt, that after tonight, other things are going to start ranking up on the best list right along with her.
I’m nervous about taking her to my place. All night I’ve thought about how I would ask her to come to my place. Only for our night to end before the words could be said. Call me a chicken or a coward, but it’s just hard to grasp whether she likes me or not. Sure, tonight she was on par with the likability, but there are times when I can’t read her at all.
The driver stops and suddenly my hands are twitching and my palms are sweating. My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like its three feet thick in my mouth. My fear is that when I finally have the guts to speak, I’ll be too hard to understand and she’ll make fun of me.
“Is this your place?” she asks, breaking the ice. God, she’s amazing and perfect. I don’t know if she senses my unease or what, but she has a way of making me feel comfortable.
“Yes. I thought we could go in for a bit and celebrate your birthday.”
“I’d like that.” Even in the dark of the back seat I can see her smile. As soon as I pull the lever to open my door, the driver is out of the car and opening the door for Daisy. I stay seated, watching as she takes his hand to get out and her dress falls perfectly into place. I groan, thinking about what’s underneath, wondering if I’m going to get a visual or have to rely strictly on my imagination.
“Will you be needing my services?” The driver asks when I come around the back to meet Daisy.