bit like a lion pacing in a cage, or maybe a bit of a lost soul, without baseball.”
“See? That’s a better answer. Because you love it,” I say, glad to be talking honestly now.
His smile is magnetic, genuine. Like a kid riding a bike for the first time. “I do. It’s definitely my first love,” he says.
In some ways maybe I should feel jealous. But I don’t. I’m glad he has something that he loves that much. That baseball is it for him. “That’s how it is for me too. I’m not out on the field playing, obviously, but I grew up with a football-is-life worldview because of my dad. I can’t imagine doing anything else. Is it crazy that even when I was a little girl, I wanted to run my dad’s football team?”
“No frogging way,” he says, smiling widely.
“I see I’ve rubbed off on you.”
“In more ways than one,” he says, wistful, his eyes a little lost.
I feel the same. My God, I feel the same.
“It was good to talk to you,” I say, gesturing from him to me. “Like this.”
“It was, Nadia. It was great,” he says, and we both shuffle closer.
It’s that awkward moment when you don’t know if you should hug or not.
We go for the full awkward embrace, and the scent of him, the mind-bending, knee-weakening soapy scent of him, makes me feel lost all over again.
My heart is empty, but I know exactly how it would feel full again.
When I return home, I’m ready to write to the dating sites and tell them what to say. How to deal with this frogging mess.
Deal with it by saying it.
I want the friendship.
I want the love. I want to be the girl warrior and the woman who falls hard for the man. I want to have it all. Is that so crazy?
I send a note to Scarlett.
Nadia: Is it insane to think we can actually have it all?
The hour is late in Paris, and she doesn’t answer, but that’s okay. I think I know the answer.
I grab a late dinner with my mom that evening.
After we order yellowtail and edamame at my favorite sushi restaurant, I give her a wide-eyed look. “So, did Jackson Browne grease the wheels for you this weekend, Mama?”
A flush crawls up her cheeks, and my jaw goes slack. “Are you kidding me, Mom? For real?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she says, hushing me, but it’s a half-hearted denial.
“So what are you saying, Mommykins?” I bat my lashes.
She lifts her green tea and takes a sip, her brown eyes sparkling with the kind of delight I haven’t seen in them in a while.
“What I’m saying is I had a lovely time and I’m going to see him again. I want to see what happens. It seems kind of foolish not to.”
I repeat her words in my head—kind of foolish not to.
They feel true.
They feel important.
They feel like one of those statements someone makes that stays with you.
That becomes a brand-new mantra.
More powerful than the one about speaking up.
Or maybe it’s the perfect corollary. “Are those words to live by?”
“I think they are,” she says, then tilts her head, studying me. “Is there something you’d be foolish not to do?”
The answer is as obvious as knowing who I want to hire for the GM.
As instinctive as selecting what pair of shoes to wear.
As simple as talking to my mom.
I know what I want.
“I fell in love with Crosby,” I confess, my throat catching, “and I think the timing is all wrong.”
“But you think you’d be foolish not to try to make it work?”
A tear slides down my cheek. “I do. I want to have it all. And really, why be a fool?”
She lifts her mug and clinks it to my glass.
That night when I slide into my bed, two messages light up my phone.
One is a reply from my friend in Europe.
Scarlett: You should have it all. And if something is getting in the way, figure out how to get rid of it and go get your all.
Then a note from my brother.
Eric: Just landed. Anything interesting happen while I was in the Maldives?
I run my thumb over his message. Should I tell him? Well, not that I discovered I love when Crosby plays with my ass.
But rather that I’m in love with his best friend?
I flash back to the mantra that has served me well.
Don’t be afraid to speak up.
I answer Eric with three words.
Nadia: Yes. Crosby happened.
31
Crosby
I cut the engine