A Good Catch
“I heard the concession stands have brought back a lot of old favorites,” Ashley said. “Including that lemonade ice cream you used to like. And—”
Charlotte heard her friend sigh, and she turned to look at her.
Ashley was standing on the steps behind her. The slightest of breezes ruffled her light brown ponytail, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose was barely visible in the shady stadium. It really was a bit gloomy this high up, and Charlotte wondered if her friend was having trouble negotiating the steps.
“Something wrong, Ashley?”
Ashley, who had already been frowning, frowned even harder, and Charlotte followed her gaze.
A man seated a few rows away was staring at them.
Charlotte looked at him, and the man sheepishly looked away.
Charlotte glanced back at her friend.
“It’s just a guy looking at us. And you look totally cute. I can’t blame him.”
“It’s not just that one guy,” Ashley replied. “It’s that one and that one and that one.”
Charlotte looked where Ashley pointed. There were indeed quite a few guys looking in their direction as they descended the steps.
Ashley continued. “And they aren’t looking at us. They’re looking at you.”
Charlotte glanced around. It was very shady, and a lot of the guys were wearing baseball caps, which shaded their eyes even further.
“I don’t see how you can tell.”
“Oh, I can tell all right.” Ashley broke into a mischievous grin. “It’s always you they’re looking at. With your gorgeous black hair and your flashing dark eyes, not to mention your—”
“Ashley!” Charlotte said quickly.
Ashley’s grin grew wider. “Don’t worry. I was just going to say ‘great figure.’ You’re pretty much the textbook definition of a perfect ten.”
“Oh, Ash—”
“I’m not jealous,” Ashley said. “I’m happy for you. You’re beautiful and successful. It’s just—”
“What?”
“You never really look at anybody. You float above everything. You need someone who will give you a challenge.”
“A challenge?” Charlotte said.
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Ashley sighed. “Let’s just find our seats.”
Charlotte and Ashley continued down the concrete steps until they broke out into sunshine.
Charlotte turned her face up to the sun’s warmth and ran her fingers through her glossy, dark hair.
Ashley tapped her friend on the shoulder.
“They’re doing it again.”
Charlotte looked around. Several pairs of eyes, all belonging to men, were turned in her direction. One of the men had a female companion who turned to follow his gaze. When she saw who he was staring at, she poked him in the ribs.
Ashley giggled a little, and Charlotte tried not to smile.
She couldn’t help it if she caused a stir everywhere she went.
Instead, she focused on the sight before her.
There was a blue sky with a bright sun above her, and below her was a baseball diamond with rich green grass and terra cotta-colored dirt.
It was a beautiful summer evening at the ballpark.
Their seats were down by the field, so Charlotte and Ashley continued descending the steps in the sunshine.
They sat down in blue plastic flip-up seats, and Charlotte looked out over the field.
She could see the players jogging and stretching as they warmed up.
“These are great seats,” Ashley said wistfully. “I suppose that’s just a perk of being you.”
Charlotte smiled at her friend. “Actually, that’s just a perk of having my job. Everybody gets a chance to go to a ball game, and everybody gets the same seats.”
There was a slight movement, and Charlotte glanced down the row of seats next to them.
The man seated at the end had turned to stare at her.
“I’m not sure everybody who sits here gets the same looks, though,” Ashley said.
“He’ll forget about me once the game starts,” Charlotte replied.
Ashley stared at her for a long moment. “You’re what they call a ‘good catch,’ Charlotte. You’re beautiful and sparkling—but you won’t give anyone a chance.”
“A good catch?”
“Yes.” Ashley tapped her chin. “You know, I think I might know someone who would be good for you.”
Charlotte smiled. “A challenge, you mean?”
“Yes. His name is Chad.”
“Chad?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte frowned. “I don’t know how I feel about that name.”
“Oh, all right. Never mind.” Ashley sighed. “Sometimes I think you’re above love.”
“Hey,” Charlotte said. “That’s not true—I’m not above love.”
Ashley’s phone buzzed then, and she looked down at it.
An impish smile lit up her face.
“I’ve got a surprise for you. Be right back.”
She stood up.
“Wait,” Charlotte said. “Where are you going?”
Ashley flashed her mischievous grin. “Like I said, it’s a surprise.”
She turned and jogged lightly up the steps.
Charlotte watched her friend for a moment and then sat back in her seat.
Ashley is wrong, Charlotte thought to herself. I do want to find love. Why else would I have worn this pin?
She looked down. She was dressed in plain white shorts and light blue T-shirt. But pinned to that T-shirt was an antique stick pin with a real ruby at the top. The deep red gem and its elaborate setting contrasted with her otherwise simple clothes.
The pin was a recent gift from her great-aunt Elaine, and the present had been a complete surprise.
Her great-aunt had also included a handwritten letter with the pin, and a few phrases from it drifted through Charlotte’s mind.
You’ve got a fiery spirit like I have. And that makes it hard for you to find a romantic partner.
Aunt Elaine had gone on to say that the ruby pin had mysterious properties, and that she herself had been wearing it the day she met the love of her life.
She’d said she hoped the gem would bring Charlotte luck.
Charlotte looked down and touched the pin lightly.
She really did hope it would give her some luck.
Time passed, and the players went into their dugouts.
Then two flag-bearers and a singer with a microphone came out onto the field.
The game was about to begin.
Charlotte stood for the national anthem and then looked around for her friend.
Ashley was nowhere in sight.
As Charlotte sat back down and rummaged in her purse, she heard someone sit down next to her.
She was relieved.
“Ashley, there you are. I was just about to call—”
She stopped.
The person sitting next to her wasn’t Ashley.
Instead, a man had taken her friend’s seat. He had bright blue eyes and dark hair that curled ever so slightly as it peeked out from under his baseball cap. He had a deep tan and an impressive, athletic build—so much so that he actually looked like one of the baseball players.
He was handsome—but he was in the wrong place.
Charlotte leaned over to him. “I’m sorry—that seat’s taken.”
The man looked at her, and as his eyes met hers, she drew in her breath sharply.
His eyes were really beautiful.
“What was that?” the man said.
Charlotte gave him her most winning smile to cushion the bad news she was about to give him.
“That seat’s taken.”
“Yes,” the man said. “By me.”
He turned his attention back to the field.
Charlotte was stunned.
Men seldom turned away from her.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t think you understand. That’s my friend’s seat.”
The man glanced at her for a moment and then looked back at the field again.
Charlotte held out her phone.
“I’ve got our tickets right here. You can see that I’ve got both my seat and the one you’re sitting in.”
The man looked over at her and smiled.
His smile was truly heart-stopping.
“I get what you’re doing,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re trying to get my attention. Ladies do it all the time. Usually, I play along a little, but this time I’d really like to just watch the game. Okay?”
Charlotte stared at him in shock.
“You—you—”
“I’m just being honest,” the man said. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested.”
Charlotte continued to stare at him.
In the meantime, the game had started.
A player walked up to bat, and then there was a pitch—and a swing and a miss.
The man clapped. “That’s it! That’s what we want! Come on! Three strikes!”
“Listen,” Charlotte said. “My friend will return very soon, and she’s going to need her seat back.”
“Sorry, lady. You’re not my type.”
“Not your type?” Charlotte said. “Of all the conceited—”
The man continued. “No—not my type at all. I like hot girls—you know, a perfect ten? And you’re not really in that league.”
Charlotte sputtered. “Not in that league? I’ll have you know I get lots of attention from men everywhere I go. I turn a lot of heads.”
The man glanced over at her. “Eh. You’re not bad.”
“Not bad?”
There was a crack! from out on the field then, and the man turned back to the game quickly.
Charlotte saw a ball flying high, headed toward the wall—but a player in the outfield made a spectacular leap and caught the ball.
The batter was out.
The man clapped. “Good catch! Good catch!”
He turned to Charlotte. “That really was a good catch.”
“A good catch,” she murmured to herself.
“Yes—a good catch,” the man said. “Do you not understand how baseball works?”
“Oh, I understand how baseball works,” Charlotte replied. “And I understand what’s going on here, too. I see now that there’s a reason Ashley disappeared—and there’s a reason you’re sitting in her seat.”
She looked around. “She’s watching us from somewhere, isn’t she?”
The man looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“You can drop the act. Ashley said I was a ‘good catch,’ and that she knew somebody who would challenge me. Then she mysteriously disappears. And then you oh so casually drop into her seat. You’re Chad, aren’t you?”
“Chad?” the man said. “Are you serious?”
“I’m perfectly serious. Just admit it—you’ve been caught.”
“My name is Foster,” the man said. “I know nothing of this Chad.”
He shifted, and something bright red winked in the sunlight. Charlotte looked down and saw a ring with a red stone on a chain around his neck.
She also saw a pair of sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt.
“Foster?” Charlotte said. “Like the sunglasses?”
He glanced down. “Yes, I do like the sunglasses.”
“No—I mean is your name Foster Grant? As in the sunglasses company?”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning,” Charlotte said, “it’s a fake name.”
“Right. Because my name is supposed to be Chad. Well, my name’s not Foster Grant, either. It’s Foster Urbani. Sorry to disappoint you. And these are actually Ray-Bans.”
“And I could say my name’s Charlotte Price,” Charlotte said. “But it’s actually Charlotte Hayden. You can say anything you want.”
Foster fixed her with his bright blue eyes.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You think the only reason I came here today was to try to get a date with you? You think all of this was just for you?”
“Sounds like a pretty accurate description to me,” Charlotte said.
Foster smiled his breathtaking smile. “Now who’s conceited?”
“I’m not conceited at all. I’ve just uncovered your little plot with my friend.”
Charlotte turned in her seat and waved.
“Where is she? Ashley! Ashley! You can come out now. Sorry, but it didn’t work!”
Foster stood up. “You know what? This is too weird for me. You and your friend enjoy the game. I just hope she doesn’t turn out to be imaginary.”
He disappeared up the steps, taking them two at a time, and Charlotte sat back in her seat, stewing.
“The nerve of that man,” she muttered to herself.
She waited, expecting Ashley to appear and own up to her little scheme.
But time passed, and nobody showed up to take Ashley’s seat.
Still fuming, Charlotte got up to find her.
The area at the top of the stadium that housed the concessions was quite shady and breezy, and Charlotte was thankful to get out of the hot sun.
She stood looking down the long row of food stalls and other merchants, but she saw no sign of her friend. There was a bit of a kerfuffle down at the other end of the hall, but it didn’t look like anything Charlotte needed to be involved in.
Instead, she walked through the cool halls that circled the entire stadium looking for Ashley.
Charlotte couldn’t find her anywhere.
Eventually, she decided just to stop and get a drink.
She walked over to the nearest concession stand and looked up at the menu board. They had beer and wine, but Charlotte was in the mood for a good, old-fashioned iced tea.
She paid for her drink and then walked over to a railing to look down on the game below.
“I don’t believe it,” said a voice next to her.
She looked up into the blue eyes of Foster Urbani. He was leaning on the railing with a glass of beer in his hand.
“You’re following me, aren’t you?” he said.
“No,” Charlotte replied. “I didn’t even see you there.”
“You didn’t see me?” Foster scoffed. “I find that very hard to believe. Everybody notices me. Just admit it—you’re following me.”
“If anything, you’re following me,” Charlotte snapped.
“How would that even be possible? I got here first.”
Charlotte frowned. She realized he was right—but she didn’t want to admit it.
Foster glanced around. “Where’s your imaginary friend?”
Charlotte felt a twinge of worry. “You know, I don’t know.” Her eyes happened to fall on the ring that hung around his neck, and she noticed once again that the ring had a red stone—just like her pin.
“I don’t know,” she said again, “but you might. Did Ashley tell you about my pin? Is that why you’re wearing that red ring? Was that supposed to be some kind of ice-breaker between us?”
Foster looked down and wrapped his fingers around the ring.
“This ring—this ring is something special. I—”
He looked away, and Charlotte waited.
Then he turned away from her.
“Fine,” Charlotte muttered to herself. Then she got out her phone and called Ashley.
She was going to get a hold of her friend and get some answers.
But Ashley’s phone rang and rang and then went to voicemail.
Charlotte then sent her a text.
Ashley, where are you?
She waited a few moments, but there was no answer.
Charlotte felt another twinge of worry, but she told herself to wait—maybe Ashley would answer in a few minutes.
She looked up and glanced around—Foster had disappeared.
Charlotte sighed. Maybe it was just as well—he didn’t seem to be very helpful.
She drank the rest of her iced tea and then went back to her seat.
With any luck, Ashley would have returned there already.
But Ashley’s seat was empty, and Charlotte sat down dejectedly.
She was really started to get worried now.
Then she told herself that Ashley hadn’t really been gone that long and there was probably a perfectly good reason for her absence.
She could hardly call the police because her friend had been missing for an hour in a ballpark.
Charlotte tried to watch the game, but her mind kept racing.
She decided to get some dinner.
As she wandered the breezy halls at the top of the stadium again, she realized that she wasn’t in the mood for a concession stand snack—she’d really rather have some proper food. She decided to go to one of the full-service restaurants.
Charlotte found one and walked in.
But as she looked around, she realized that the restaurant was full and there likely wasn’t any place even for a party of one.
A young hostess approached her and confirmed as much but offered her a seat at the bar.
“That works,” Charlotte replied.
She was seated at the bar in the only available seat, and as she looked over the menu, the couple seated next to her got up and left.
Soon someone else sat down next to her.
Charlotte glanced over the top of her menu.
It was Foster.
“So now who’s doing the following?” Charlotte asked.
Foster glanced over at her. “Oh. You again.”
“You’re perfectly free to leave,” Charlotte replied.
“No—I could use a burger. And a drink.”
“I thought you already had one.”
“Yeah, well, I need another.”
Foster glanced around.
“I see your imaginary friend hasn’t returned yet.”
“She’s not imaginary,” Charlotte said. “And I’m starting to get worried about her.”
Foster looked at her, and Charlotte was surprised to see a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes.
“Why are you worried?”
“I can’t find her for one thing. And then she’s also not answering her phone. I’m starting to think something’s happened to her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Foster said—and for once he didn’t sound smug or self-satisfied.
Charlotte stared at him for a long moment. “You really don’t know who Ashley is, do you?”
“No,” Foster replied.
“And this really wasn’t a setup?”
“No.”
The young hostess suddenly appeared by their side.
“This almost never happens,” she said. “But a small table has opened, and no one is waiting at the moment. Would you two like to have it?”
“Oh, no,” Charlotte said quickly. “We’re not together.”
Foster rubbed his chin. “Still—a table in this place is hard to get, as the young lady said. How about it? Would you like to have dinner with me?”
Charlotte stared at him in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not afraid to spend more time with me?”
Foster had the good grace to look embarrassed.
“No. Sorry about all that. How about I stay with you till you locate your friend?”
Charlotte gave Foster a speculative look.
“All right,” she said at last.
The hostess led them to a tiny table in a corner, and a friendly young waiter soon arrived to take their order. Foster did indeed order a burger, and Charlotte ordered a turkey club sandwich.
Then the waiter departed.
“So,” Charlotte said. “I’ve finally accepted the fact that you and Ashley aren’t in cahoots.”
“And I appreciate that,” Foster said.
“So isn’t it time you finally admit that you were sitting in the wrong seat?”
Foster’s jaw took on a stubborn set. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been coming to this ballpark for quite some time, and I’ve never sat in the wrong seat.”
“Would you please just look?” Charlotte asked.
“Oh, very well,” Foster replied with a loud, affected sigh.
He got out his phone. “What seats do you have?”
Charlotte looked down at her phone and tapped on her screen.
“I have seats eleven and twelve in row F, section one hundred twenty.”
“And I have—” Foster paused, and a look of embarrassment crossed his face.
He cleared his throat and went on. “Seat twelve in row F, section one hundred twenty-two.”
He looked up at Charlotte. “Okay. So I was wrong.”
“Thank you for admitting that.”
Foster smiled. “You’re stubborn—you know that?”
Charlotte smiled back. “I may have heard that once or twice.”
Their food arrived then, and as Foster leaned back to give the waiter some room, Charlotte happened to glance at the ring with the red stone that hung from his neck.
It looked like a woman’s ring—the red stone was set in a delicate gold band that could only fit over a slender finger. Charlotte glanced down at her own ruby pin, and she realized now that there was no way Ashley could have told him about it ahead of time. She hadn’t told Ashley about the pin or its significance, and she wasn’t even sure Ashley had noticed it.
Charlotte remembered the way Foster had reacted when she’d asked about the ring, and she felt bad about her accusation now.
As the waiter walked away, Charlotte eyed it curiously.
“You never did finish telling me about the ring,” she said. “It seems like something very important to you.”
Foster looked down. “Yes, it is. It was my mom’s.”
“Oh, wow,” Charlotte replied. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken about it so casually.”
“That’s okay. You didn’t know.” Foster wrapped his fingers around the ring. “My mom died when I was in high school. I’ve been wearing it ever since.”
“Oh, Foster. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve got a lot of good memories, though. My mother was a very special person. I guess I’ve spent my whole adult life looking for someone who can love me like she did.”
“Oh, Foster,” Charlotte said again. The words came out like a gentle sigh.
Foster looked up at her, and his grin was a little sheepish.
“I’m used to women chasing after me who aren’t really interested in getting to know me, and I thought you were like that, too. I can see now that this was all just a big misunderstanding. And for the record, you’re better than okay—you’re really lovely.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thank you. And I know what you mean. I have guys chasing after me all the time. And they aren’t interested in me personally. They just see me as some kind of trophy.”
“Would you like to start over again?” Foster held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Foster.”
Charlotte took his hand. “Nice to meet you, Foster. I’m Charlotte.”
“Do you like baseball, Charlotte?”
“Yes, I do. How about you?”
“Yes. Funny you should ask.”
The two of them had a nice dinner and an even nicer conversation, and as they walked out of the restaurant at the end of it, Charlotte realized that she hadn’t had such a pleasant evening in a long time.
As they walked along the breezy hallway once again, Charlotte glanced out at the field below.
“Sorry you missed so much of the game,” she said.
“That’s okay,” Foster replied. “There are one hundred sixty-two games in a major league baseball season, and at least half of them are at home. I’ll have plenty of chances to see another game. Besides, I couldn’t leave you while your friend was still missing.”
Charlotte looked down at her phone a little guiltily. Ashley had slipped her mind while she’d been spending time with Foster.
But there was still no call or text from Ashley, and Charlotte tried calling her again.
Once again, there was no answer.
Suddenly, two police officers went by with a big red object that had two handles on it.
“I think that’s a battering ram,” Foster murmured.
Charlotte glanced around. This was the same section of the hallway where she’d seen a commotion earlier. She and Foster drew aside and watched the police from a distance.
The two officers hurried up to a door, and the one with the battering ram stepped up to it and shouted.
“Please stand back as far as you can, ma’am.”
Then the officer got to work on the door, while his partner stood by.
Within moments, the door was bashed in with a bang, and a young woman sprang out.
“Ashley!” Charlotte cried.
She ran toward her friend.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Ashley cried to the cops. “Thank you for getting me out of there!”
Charlotte wrapped her friend in a hug. “Oh, Ashley. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m fine. Just a little exhausted—and embarrassed. I walked into a closet thinking it was restroom, and then somehow I got locked in there. And nobody seemed to have a key.”
Ashley’s cell phone began to buzz then.
“And my phone wouldn’t work.”
She tapped at her screen. “Looks like you’ve been trying to reach me for a little while. Oh, Charlotte. I really only came up here to get you some of that ice cream that you like. And then everything went horribly wrong.”
Charlotte gave her another hug.
The police checked to make sure that Ashley was okay, and she assured them that she didn’t need any medical attention. She also reassured a nervous stadium representative that she wouldn’t sue and waved off the offer of free tickets.
As the commotion around Ashley died down, Charlotte looked up and saw Foster still hovering nearby.
Ashley followed her friend’s gaze. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Foster. He’s been waiting with me while I tried to figure out what happened to you.”
An impish grin sprang to Ashley’s lips. “An actual guy that you actually talked to? I’m amazed. I think I might faint from shock.”
“Shhh!” Charlotte hissed. “He’ll hear you. And speaking of shock, how do you feel? Do you want to go home?”
“I’m okay—but I think I’d really rather go home. I’ve had enough of baseball stadiums for today.”
“Okay,” Charlotte said. “I’ll take you home.”
Foster approached them then with a little bit of hesitation, and Ashley nudged Charlotte in the ribs.
“No,” she said. “You stay here, and I’ll go home by myself.”
“So I suppose you two ladies are headed home now?” Foster asked.
“Yes,” Charlotte said.
“I am. She isn’t,” Ashley added.
“I am taking you home,” Charlotte said firmly.
“Well, you ladies have a good night.” Foster hesitated. “And if it isn’t inappropriate, I was wondering—”
“Yes,” Ashley replied. “She’d love to give you her number. Give her yours, and she’ll text it to you.”
Charlotte and Foster exchanged numbers, and he grinned as he looked down at his phone.
“This is good,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Then he flashed his heart-melting smile once more and disappeared.
“Wow,” Ashley said. “How about next time, we lock you in a closet, and I get to be the one who meets the hot guy?”
Charlotte laughed and took her friend home.
Two weeks later, on another bright summer evening, Charlotte and Foster sat side by side at the ballpark. As the two of them talked and laughed, Charlotte marveled at how easy he was to talk to and how much fun he was to be around.
A sudden homerun attracted his attention, and Charlotte watched his handsome profile as he stared out at the field. She was wearing her Aunt Elaine’s ruby pin in honor of the night she and Foster had met, and she found herself musing that in a strange way the pin really had brought her good luck. If not for Ashley’s bizarre mishap, Foster and Charlotte would probably never have met.
“Oh, Aunt Elaine,” Charlotte murmured to herself. “Did you know something like this would happen?”
As she looked down at the pin, the red jewel seemed to wink at her.
Charlotte took that as a yes.
******************
Thanks very much for reading!
Catherine Mesick 