Friday morning I woke up with the mindset that something needed to change. Sulking in my own personal bubble was getting me nowhere and I was desperate to escape it. That morning Richard reminded me that he worked until a little later that night and instead of passively acknowledging it, an idea popped up.
"Don't go in today!" I burst out.
He eyed me skeptically. "What do you mean?"
"Stay home, let's go do something! Do you want to see a baseball game?? I heard the Red Sox are playing at home today, we can get some cheap seats!"
He placed a kiss to my forehead. "I can't miss work, honey. Besides, you know I'm not a baseball fan."
After he went to work I went online, purchased two cheap tickets and printed them out. I wanted to go today no matter what. There were a few people I could ask to take the ticket but truthfully, there was really only one that I wanted.
Never in my life had I been this nervous as I listened to the phone ring in my ear. With each ring my stomach churned until I was sure I was going to puke. Just as I was about to burst, he picked up.
"Hey pretty girl." He answered, with the upbeat tone I had been hoping to hear.
"What are you doing today??" My words rushed together in a single breath.
"Just working … "
Before he could get out another word I budded in. "Cancel it. Play hooky with me today!"
He chuckled. "Does it count as hooky if you already have the day off, Greyson Rose?"
"Sure! If I play a part in making someone who is working ditch it."
"Well, what did you have in mind?"
"Hold on!" I quickly flipped to the camera, and zeroed in on the printed tickets. I pressed send and sat waiting.
"Hold on, something's coming in. Oh shit, I'm in!"
Euphoria washed over me and every tense, built up moment of stress I have had this past week suddenly let loose. Nothing made me happier than knowing that for a few hours today, it would just be me and Stefan.
"Good!"
"I need to finish up some things here but I'll pick you up at noon. Sound okay?"
"Sounds perfect!" I could hardly contain my giddiness. "Don't forget your baseball hat to shield your face as you sneak out."
I stood there, biting my nails waiting to see if he understood what I was referring to.
A boisterous laugh met my ear. "Oh, so we're going old school with this, are we?"
"Is there any other way to do it?"
"Absolutely not! Do you have a hat, pretty girl? Or am I going to need to bring one to protect your identity?"
"I'm fully covered."
"That's my girl!" My entire being smiled. My soul lit up for the first time in days. This was exactly the response I had hoped for. I knew deep down it meant he hadn't given up on me … yet.
The minute we hung up the phone I ran to get ready. In just under an hour Stefan would be here. Even though I was never the type of girl to get all dolled up just to get the mail-I felt the need to this time.
My hair naturally hung in loose curls down my back; besides adding a bit of curl-enhancing gel I left it alone. My complexion never required much foundation and in the summer sun, I didn't bother with it. I did line my eyes in black liner, mascara on my lashes and then quickly backed away from the makeup before I completely overdid it. I ran off to the bedroom, and slipped on a pair of my fitted white wash denim shorts. When it came down to what I would wear on the top, there were various types of Red Sox shirts I owned. Tank tops, windbreakers, long-sleeve, short-sleeve-I had them all.
In all honesty though, I never wore them. I watched the Sox when I was alone and the apparel purchasing obsession came from the guilt. At times I felt that I was the neglectful mother to my team. I loved them, but only when I had the time and privacy to show it. Buying as many pieces of team clothing as possible became the best way to "prove" my love. It was without a doubt, ridiculous, and I knew it.
I wasn't left wondering which to wear for long because I knew the moment I saw it. One of my favorite shirts was a red fitted top that looked like a mock jersey. The sleeves stopped just above my elbow and each had a faded looking set of stripes, two navy lines with white stripes above and below the navy ones. The "B" for our proud city was screen printed over my heart with the word 'Red Sox' screen printed along the back shoulders. The best part of the shirt was the neckline, and the whole reason I bought it in the first place. A scoop neck revealed my bare skin to the top of my bra-enhanced cleavage. The neckline met in the center and four buttons ran to the top of my stomach.
The shirt itself was perfect for the game but I would be lying if I said the reason I selected it was for the team pride. When, in fact, it was all because of that plunging neckline and my sudden desire to appear … sexy.