Melissa was away for a couple of days visiting her mother in Springfield, who was in the hospital. Fortunately, it turned out to be relatively minor. I got up early and went to the office. I rarely worked Saturdays but I was up against a tight deadline on my project and needed to review the weekly field reports. Sixteen of the twenty sites were on track, two were ahead of schedule and two were behind although one had made significant progress the previous week. If that team had another good week, they would be up to speed.
Game three was starting at four o'clock and although the Sox were down two-zip, like every other Red Sox fan, I was sure this one would be different. They were back home at Fenway. Although I had just spent the entire day at the office, I still needed to get some work done, so I brought my laptop and briefcase. Normally, I went to McNally's, a pub closer to our apartment when I wanted to catch a game out. But it would be loud and packed wall to wall with boisterous patrons pounding down beers and cheering on the Sox. I went to Sullivan's instead. It was closer to the office but still walking distance to our apartment. It wouldn't be nearly as busy on a Saturday. It catered to a more upscale work-week crowd. Drinks were a bit more expensive and the beers on tap were all craft brews and Irish or English imports. If you wanted to drink a mass-produced American beer at Sully's, you were getting it in a bottle.
Melissa called just before I left the office. She told me her mother was doing well and would be discharged the next morning. She was going to dinner with her father, two brothers and their wives, and would get home late that night. When she asked me what I had planned, I told her what I was up to and where I was going. She asked why Sully's, and I told her I still had some work to do. It would be quieter. I could get some work done and still catch the game. I made Mel promise not to drink too much. She promised to wake me when she got in.
I got to Sully's just before the starting lineups were announced. It was somewhat busier than expected but I still didn't have any trouble getting a booth where I could spread out and work. Most patrons crowded around the big screen. I ordered a Sam Adams Honey Porter, a Rueben, and a Caesar salad from the attractive Irish immigrant waitress and got to work.
Like every other Red Sox fan on the planet, I was sure the Sox were going to turn it around but in the back of my mind, I couldn't escape a well-justified sense of doom. The Yankees jumped out to an early lead in the first but the Sox went ahead in the second inning. When the Yanks tied it in the third, the place got quiet. In the fourth, after Sheffield hit a three run shot, a collective groan went through the bar that made me lift my head from my work. That was when I saw her.
She looked out of place. She drew attention from the predominantly male patrons as she passed by the crowd. She wore an expensive gray silk business suit with a magenta silk blouse. The suit seemed odd for a Saturday. She was about five foot six with thick, wavy dark hair that hung past her shoulders. Her eyes were a positively luminescent blue-gray. High cheek bones, a flawless fair complexion, sensuous lips, a narrow nose, and a small narrow chin assembled a face from a fashion magazine cover. She was slender with an appealing shape that wasn't disguised by the suit. She moved with an easy grace that suggested she was an athlete.
I had a sense that I'd seen her before. But I was sure I didn't know her. She nodded at me and I nodded back. She sat at the bar across from my booth. I could see her face reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Her attention was on the small television that I had been watching, just to her left. I watched the remainder of the debacle that was the Yankee half of the fourth inning and then returned to my work.
A parade of men, disgusted with the game, approach her. Every suitor was sent away. When one persisted and got a bit too close for her comfort, Sully, who had been watching from his post at the quiet end of the bar, approached.
Sully might have been in his late sixties, but no one fucked with him. He was six foot seven inches of muscle and looked more like he was in his forties than sixties. Sully's didn't attract a clientele that justified having a bouncer so a peaceable resolution was likely. The guy about jumped out of his shoes when Sully gently put a hand on his shoulder. He put up his hands in surrender and turned to go back to the crowd at the big screen. That wasn't going to be good enough. Sully took him by the elbow and assertively led him toward the front door, telling his bar maid to call a cab. There was no resistance from the patron, dwarfed and cowed by Sully. Sully kept the guy company until the cab arrived. Sully would keep the conversation light and avoid any mention of the woman at the bar. But it would also manage to induce a sense of dread.
I hadn't seen my waitress since she cleared my meal dishes and I wanted another beer. So I went to the bar and stood next to gray-suit as I waited for service. She looked at me, openly dismayed by my presence. She expected me to hit on her, too. But I just nodded to acknowledge her and turned to get the attention of the bar maid. I returned to my seat when I got my beer. Several more guys approached, by this time the game result was a foregone conclusion, and she sent them all away. I felt sorry for her, but Sully was keeping watch and her issues were not my problem.
I started packing my work to leave when I spotted another guy approach gray-suit. She spotted him, too. Before he got there, she got up and startled me by sliding into the booth next to me. She nodded and smiled. The look on the new suitor's face suggested he wanted to kick my ass. Some guys just don't have a clue.
She leaned into me a bit and asked, 'Do you mind if I sit here for a few minutes. If they think we know each other, maybe the parade will stop.'
'Sure,' I told her. 'But I'm going to leave as soon as I get my check and settle up.'
'That's OK,' she said. 'I just want to sit for a few minutes and not get hit on. You're not staying until the game ends?'
'Nah. I know how it ends. I've lived here all my life. Once again, they're going to disappoint in the worst possible way.' I told her.
'That's a fatalist's attitude. Where's your faith in the team?' she asked.
'Oh, I have faith. It's just tempered by years of disappointment.' I laughed.
'I thought you were going to be another one when you stood next to me earlier. But you didn't make a pass at me. You just got your beer and returned to your booth. Just out of curiosity, why not?'
'Well, there were two reasons. First, you sent a long line of guys packing, so it was pretty easy to conclude you weren't interested in company. And second, but more important, I'm in a committed relationship.' I told her.
She looked down at my left hand. 'You're not wearing a ring.'
'I didn't say I was married.'
The waitress appeared at that moment. I asked for the check. She reached into her apron pocket, rummaged through a stack until she found mine and handed it to me. I handed it back to her. 'You need to add another porter. I got one at the bar when I didn't see you for a while.'
'Sully said that one is on him. When the lady joined you, he could stop worrying about her.'
I shrugged and handed her my credit card and she went off to run it.
