The flight from Oakland to Seattle is under two hours and it’s barely enough time to get any shuteye. Instead, Kidd and I take advantage of the free booze and we keep the flight attendants busy. We’re not the only ones drinking, just two of the youngest, but legal is legal.
When we land I’ll be heading to my parents. It’s a luxury that we’re entitled to when we visit our hometowns. My parents live close enough to Safeco Field that it’s only a ten-minute drive. Sarah’s apartment is fifteen and if I have my way, I’ll be spending as much time with her as possible. She’s exactly what I need to get over this sour taste in my mouth.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay at the hotel?”
“Nah, my bed at home is waiting for me.”
When you’re single and on the road you can have a lot of fun. The cleat chaser’s know what hotels we stay at and most know our arrival schedules. We’ll be in town long before the bar closes and they’ll be looking for action.
“Shit, don’t you mean Sarah’s bed?” Kidd shakes his head as he downs his drink. If I hadn’t been so hung up on that certain baseball fan back in Boston, I would’ve had Sarah pick me up tonight, but when my mom called it was an automatic request. If I really wanted to, I could go to Sarah’s after visiting, or she could come over to my parents’ house. My mom may not understand, but she wouldn’t question Sarah’s presence at our house.
When the flight attendant comes back, she has new drinks for us, plus an assortment of snacks. I’m starving, but the short flight makes meal preparation a bit difficult. I’m hoping my mom has the refrigerator well stocked or she at least cooked a big meal today.
“Does she have a sister?”
“Who?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from the window. Even though it’s dark out, I know the vast mountains of the Cascades loom beneath us.
“Your girlfriend?”
I frown at the term girlfriend. For a brief moment I was stupid enough to think that I’d have a girlfriend, but that thought is long gone and a fuck buddy is better suited for me.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I say, shaking my head. I quickly finish my drink and hand my empty cup to the attendant as she passes by.
“What do you call her?”
I shrug. “I don’t know; my ex? Sarah doesn’t have a label.”
“You know most guys label that ‘for a good time, call’ and put her name and number on the bathroom wall.” Kidd is laughing so hard at his joke that he wakes Bainbridge up, who is frowning at us. I grimace, letting him know that I’m sorry, but he looks pissed and will likely yell at us tomorrow in the clubhouse.
“Sarah is completing her residency at the hospital. She doesn’t have time to meet guys, so this is convenient for her.”
“So she uses you for your pecker jammer?” He cocks his eyebrow at me, trying to stifle a laugh, only he can’t and ends up snorting and blowing booze out of his nose. I keel over, laughing, as Kidd scrambles to clean up his mess while putting together a string of curse words that would rival the Urban Dictionary.
We get stares from the other guys, but one look at Kidd and they know he’s done something stupid. It’s typical behavior, especially when we travel. He’s the life of the party. As soon as he’s done and the redness from his face has dissipated, I can finally answer his question.
“No. It’s mutually beneficial. I get what I need without someone demanding a diamond ring, and she gets what she needs without wondering if her hook-up is going to call the next day. She knows I won’t call and I know she has no desire to get married.”
I do fear the day that changes. I’ve often thought about why she hasn’t tried to meet someone new or even someone in her field. She’s always waiting for me to come to town, or flying out to see me when she gets a vacation. Even though she knows I’ve been with other women since her, it doesn’t seem to bother her at all. The first time she asked, I thought she would break down and start crying, but she didn’t. Now that I’m thinking about it, I actually kind of find it odd.