I reach for Daisy’s hand and give it a squeeze. She’s been a trooper, letting her grandfather go on and on about her life growing up.
“Her grandma and I told her that he was too old for her and that he’d break her heart, but she wouldn’t listen. Each day she’d wait for him to get home from practice or whatever he did after school, sitting on the front porch step watching each kid go by. When he’d go by on his bike, she’d run out there to say hi and he’d talk to her until his mom started hollering for him.
“One day, he brought a girl home and little miss Daisy became so enraged she socked the girl right in her shoulder before she came running into the house, telling us that boys are stupid.”
“Do you still think boys are stupid, Daisy?” I ask her, hoping my voice is low enough that her grandfather can’t hear us in the backseat.
“No, she doesn’t. She likes you, doesn’t she?”
“Papa,” she scolds as she turns around. “Ethan is a fine young gentleman and doesn’t bring other girls home on his bike.” We’re both laughing by the time she ends her sentence.
“I can assure you, John, I won’t be bringing any girls home on my bike.”
Daisy is shaking her head and trying to control her laughter. I’m trying to stay focused on the road while I navigate to Citi Field. When the front office called to get me tickets, they offered me a luxury suite. They also suggested I invite the rest of the team, but that defeated the purpose of having some quality time with John and Daisy. Instead, we’re behind the plate with all we can eat food - another important part of sitting where we are. This is more for John, though, and our combined love for the game.
“John, do you think you’ll want a shirt?” I ask, after showing the parking attendant my pass. He waves me on, leaving me to find my own spot. With the new scooter John has, we can park wherever we want and walk while he drives along beside us.
“And be a Mets fan for the day? Nah, I don’t want to waste my money.”
I don’t blame him, but I’d rather be a Mets fan than a Yankees fan.
The moment we’re parked and out of the van, John is getting himself out. Already, he’s found some quick independence and I’m sure to point that out to Daisy, who rolls her eyes. We have yet to tell him that the scooter is his to keep because she’s not sure how he’ll react. I suggested we not tell him until he asks, or until I drop them off tonight and he’s taking it up and I’m leaving without it. Either way, I’m not bringing that sucker home.
Daisy and I walk hand-in-hand, following John to the gates. He’s like a little kid going to his first game and I love that I’m a part of this. Daisy stops us mid-step and pulls me down, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. So many thoughts about heading back to the van run through my mind, except now wouldn’t be the right time for a quickie.
“What’s that for?” As if she needs a reason to kiss me. I’ll stop and kiss her anytime, anywhere.
“The only way I can thank you for doing this for my grandfather.”
“You being here with me is thanks enough, Daisy.” Looking into her eyes, I see a girl who has lost so much, but is trying to hold on to what is important to her. I hope that when she looks at me, she sees a guy who is going to try and make sure she doesn’t lose anymore.
“Come on,” I say, pulling her forward. “Your grandfather is going to sell our tickets if we don’t hurry up.”