The Error

Don't we all wish we had a friend like Hank...and a guy like Austin sitting across the desk from us *sigh.* Find out what the error is and if it gets rectified in this delightful tale by Elise Gilmore

I stood at second base, sweating profusely in the lingering September heat. The batter hit the ball weakly to third base. Great! An easy out, I thought. The guy manning third missed the ball, and it rolled lazily into the outfield. The outfielder charged, grabbed the ball, and threw it… right over my head. I rolled my eyes and sighed. We looked just like my nephew’s Little League team. At first base, Austin fielded the ball, but the runner was already headed my way.

“Austin! Throw it!” I jumped up and down. He hesitated for a moment. “Come on!”

I yelled.

He pulled his arm back and threw the ball. I squealed as it barreled toward me. I tried to get the ball. I really did. I squeezed my eyes closed, expecting to hear it thump into my glove, but it didn’t. Instead, it smashed into my shin. As I crumpled to the ground, hot tears sprang to my eyes. I looked over at Austin. His brow scrunched together, and a frown pulled his lips down. He watched as the runner scored. His eyes caught mine for a second before he looked away. We had lost. I pulled myself up, wiped my eyes, and limped toward the dugout. I was so embarrassed. And now, I had to go tell Hank.

***

“He definitely doesn’t like me now.” I sighed after I finished recounting the harrowing tale to my Russian Blue cat, Hank.

“That’s the thing you’re focused on?” he hissed. “How about the fact that all my coaching went in one ear and out the other.”

I shivered as the ice pack cooled the lump on my leg. “What was I thinking when I agreed to play softball at the Labor Day company picnic?”

Hank looked up with knowing eyes. “Not about keeping your eye on the ball, that’s for sure,” he accused. “Austin distracted you.”

“I know, I know...” I had had a crush on Austin since the day he sat down at the desk across from mine. When I found out he was playing on the team, I had signed up without asking any questions. I had wanted a chance to impress him. Instead, I had made a fool of myself.

I shook my head as I limped back to the freezer. Before I could reach it, I heard a soft knock on my front door. “Who do you think that could be, Hank?”

He glared at the front door. “An inconvenience, to be sure.” Then, the doorbell rang, making us both jump.

“Coming!” I yelled as I hobbled over. I swung the door open only to slam it shut again. “Hank, it’s Austin,” I whispered.

Hank stalked back to the couch. “He’s interrupting.”

Ugh. I would have put on something more flattering if I had known Austin was coming. Had he been holding flowers? I took a deep breath and opened the door back up.

“Sorry about that. I was…worried my cat might run out the door.” Austin peered around me at the super-speedy feline curled up on his favorite couch cushion. Austin raised his eyebrows but seemed willing to give me this one.

“Sure…um…I just wanted to come check on you, Riley.” He looked down at my shin. I pulled my pants leg down over the lump, mortified at the shades of puce and maroon it had developed.

“I’m okay. Or at least I will be.” I shuffled backward. “Come on in.”

He bit his lip as he stepped inside. I tugged at my shirt and smoothed my hair down in the silence. Austin’s eyes darted around my living room and settled on my now-snoozing cat.

“What’s his name?”

“Hank.” I replied, moving back to the couch. The throbbing in my leg pulsed in time with my pounding heart. “For Hank Aaron. My dad’s favorite baseball player.”

Austin chuckled. “Good name.” He held up the bouquet of flowers I had spotted earlier. “Do you have a vase somewhere?” I moved to push myself up off the couch. He quickly stepped toward me. “No–please don’t get up. I’ll do it.” I slumped back and told him where he could find one.

When Austin disappeared into the kitchen, Hank popped up. “Well, well, well…” he purred.

Austin poked his head around the corner. “You say something?”

“Just my phone,” I lied. He shrugged and returned to the kitchen. I glared at Hank.

He huffed and laid back down. “You thought he didn’t like you.”

I shushed him. “Do you want Austin finding out about you?” I whispered. Hank cocked his head, shook it slightly, and began silently licking his paw. A few minutes later, Austin reappeared with a mason jar of daisies.

“Thanks for the flowers, but it wasn’t necessary. It’s my fault I got hurt.”

Embarrassment washed over me again as the scene replayed in my mind.

“Riley, you think it was your fault?” He shook his head when I nodded. “No, I threw the ball too low!”

“But you looked so crushed when the runner scored!”

“I didn’t care about the run. I was only upset that I hurt the girl I like.” His cheeks bloomed a reddish pink as he realized what he had just admitted.

My eyes grew big. “You–you–like me!”

***

Three hours passed as we chatted about books, movies, and baseball. Austin and I even shared a frozen pizza. Although Hank tended to dislike new people, he must have approved of this one since he abandoned his favorite cushion to curl up beside Austin while we ate. After he threw our paper plates away, Austin didn’t sit back down beside me.

“Riley, I’m so glad I came over.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “But I’ve got to get home to feed Aaron.” I giggled when he said his pet’s name, still finding the fact that our cats were named after the same person serendipitous. He leaned over and gently kissed the top of my head. “I’ll call tomorrow.” He squeezed my hand, then let himself out.

I sighed contentedly and Hank nuzzled my hand. I stroked his head. “Ok. Let me have it,” I said to him. “What do you really think of Austin?”

“Hmmm…” Hank purred. “I think I could live with him. I’m not sure about the Aaron character he mentioned.”

I rolled my eyes. “And what will Austin think when he finds out you talk to me?”

“I’m not sure, but perhaps we could let him in on our little secret.” Hank murmured.