Drive Home

By the time we finally left the karaoke bar, it was much later than either of us had planned.

Not that either of us seemed to care.

The evening had taken on a life of its own.

Between Diane's questions, Wayne's quiet observations, the mysterious conversation I wasn't supposed to hear, and Jack somehow turning out to be an incredible singer, the night had been anything but ordinary.

As we walked through the parking lot, Diane pulled me into a hug.

A real hug.

The kind mothers give when they've decided they like you.

Wayne shook my hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Lela."

"You too."

Diane pointed at Jack.

"Drive safely."

Then pointed at me.

"And don't let him pick the music."

I laughed.

"Noted."

Jack groaned.

"My own family."

"Exactly," Diane said.

Then she smiled at me.

A smile that seemed to carry about ten different meanings.

None of which I fully understood.

Yet.

The drive home started quietly.

Comfortably quiet.

The kind of silence that exists after a really good evening.

Neither person feeling pressured to fill every moment with conversation.

The city lights passed by outside the windows.

The radio played softly in the background.

For several miles, neither of us spoke.

Then Jack glanced over.

"So."

I immediately laughed.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The famous 'so.'"

He smiled.

"You've caught on."

"I have."

He looked ahead.

Then back at me.

"Are you busy this weekend?"

I smiled.

There was something amusing about the fact that we'd spent almost every day talking for the past week, yet somehow still managed to keep making plans.

I thought about it for a moment.

Then suddenly remembered.

Actually...

"No."

Then I laughed.

"Well, sort of."

Jack looked confused.

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

He smiled.

"So?"

I looked over.

"I have tickets to the Indians game Saturday night."

His eyebrows immediately rose.

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Yep."

"That's a pretty good weekend plan."

I smiled.

"It usually is."

The two of us drove for a few moments.

Then I glanced over at him.

An idea suddenly forming.

One I hadn't considered until that exact second.

"What are you doing Saturday?"

Jack looked over.

"Nothing."

I smiled.

"Would you like to go?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then he smiled.

"Are you asking me out again?"

I started laughing.

"Maybe."

"You know, most people let the guy ask occasionally."

"I've never been accused of being most people."

"That's fair."

I smiled.

Then continued.

"Actually, we have four tickets."

Jack looked over.

"Four?"

I nodded.

"My parents own a loge."

His eyes widened.

"A loge?"

"Yeah."

"At the stadium?"

I laughed.

"That's generally where loges are."

He shook his head.

"I walked right into that."

"You absolutely did."

For a few moments he looked genuinely surprised.

Then I explained.

"My parents aren't using it this weekend."

"Why not?"

"They leave for Vegas tomorrow."

Jack laughed.

"Of course they do."

I smiled.

"They'll be gone for a couple weeks."

"So the tickets are yours?"

I nodded.

"My turn."

He looked impressed.

Then I added,

"If you want, invite a couple friends."

Jack looked over.

"What?"

"We have four tickets."

"You're serious?"

"Of course."

For a moment, he simply stared.

Then smiled.

A real smile.

The kind that reached his eyes.

"You know..."

"What?"

"You're pretty amazing."

Immediately, I laughed.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Definitely."

I shook my head.

"I just don't want the seats to go to waste."

"Sure."

"That's true."

"I believe you."

His tone suggested otherwise.

We both laughed.

The conversation drifted toward baseball.

Favorite players.

Favorite memories.

Games we'd attended over the years.

Then eventually Jack became unusually quiet.

Not uncomfortable quiet.

Thinking quiet.

I noticed immediately.

"What?"

He looked over.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

He smiled.

"Maybe."

I folded my arms.

"Tell me."

For several seconds he stared at the road.

Then finally spoke.

"You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"When I called you all those times trying to get you to go out with me..."

I immediately started laughing.

"Oh God."

"...I never imagined we'd end up here."

I smiled.

"At a baseball game?"

"No."

He glanced over.

"Making plans for next weekend."

The comment settled between us.

Simple.

Honest.

Unexpectedly meaningful.

Because he was right.

A week ago, none of this existed.

Not the dinners.

Not the phone calls.

Not the karaoke bar.

Not his family.

Not the baseball game.

None of it.

Yet somehow it all felt natural.

Like it had happened exactly the way it was supposed to.

I looked out the window.

Then back at him.

"I'm glad you kept calling."

Jack smiled.

"Me too."

The rest of the drive passed quickly.

The closer we got to my parents' house, the more I found myself wishing the evening wasn't ending.

A thought that surprised me.

Because not long ago, I dreaded dates ending.

The awkwardness.

The uncertainty.

The pressure.

This wasn't like that.

This felt easy.

Comfortable.

Real.

And as the headlights turned onto my parents' street, I realized something.

For the first time in years, I wasn't wondering whether someone liked me.

I wasn't wondering whether I was saying the right things.

I wasn't wondering what came next.

I was simply enjoying the journey.

And that felt better than anything I'd experienced in a very long time.