Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [94]
“That’s generous of you to say.”
Caine cleared his throat. “There’s another matter I wanted to discuss with you as well. It’s about Faith. I’ve got this plan.” Caine told Jeff about it. When he was done, he said, “What do you think?”
Faith’s dad smiled and nodded. “I approve.”
Two weeks later:
“I’ve never been to a Crosstown Classic game,” Caine told Faith as they stood in line outside Comiskey Park aka U.S. Cellular Field. He was wearing jeans, a Cubs T-shirt and baseball cap and garnering jeers from the White Sox fans nearby. “The Cubs versus the White Sox. A classic rivalry. Well, we know which side you’re rooting for.”
Faith was wearing a White Sox jersey along with black shorts, her black Keds and plenty of sunscreen. It was a hot summer day.
Caine shook his head at the White Sox mascot.
“That’s Southpaw,” Faith said.
Caine tried to think of something nice to say about the tall fuzzy green thing. “It must be hard being green.”
Faith socked Caine’s arm. “Be nice.”
“That was me being nice.”
“I can’t believe you got tickets for the Scout Seating section two rows behind home plate.”
Caine shrugged. “I’ve got connections.”
“You must have. You do realize that this is the place to watch baseball, because White Sox fans actually do watch the game. Cubs fans are at Wrigley to see and be seen and to download apps onto their iPhones.”
Caine narrowed his eyes at her. “Those sound like fighting words to me.”
“Just wait and see.”
“You can count on it.”
She could also count on Caine and have faith that it would be okay. She’d learned more about Caine in the two months since she’d first met him in Italy than she’d known about Alan after two years. She certainly knew Caine moved fast. He’d already made a lot of headway with his nonprofit organization to help returning Marines. He was determined to make a difference.
He’d definitely made a difference in her life. He’d opened up to her in ways she’d never expected. Not that he’d ever be the kind of guy to bare his soul, but he let her see him as he was.
They’d spent all their spare time together, but Caine had yet to say how he felt about her. He’d shown her, though, in so many ways. She told herself to be patient, to enjoy the romantic road they were traveling together and not jump ahead to some happy ending. She needed to live in the moment.
“When you’re in the Scouts Seating section, servers bring your drink and food to your seats, you know,” she said.
“So now it’s all about the food? I thought it was all about the game.”
“It is.”
“You’re not going to order sushi, are you?”
“No, although they do offer it here.”
“That’s just wrong. Ballpark dogs and beer. That’s baseball food.”
“Speaking of baseball, there have been some memorable Crosstown games over the years. In 2008 Mark Buehrle threw for seven innings and struck out five. Then there was that infamous game in 2006 when Cubs player Michael Barrett punched A. J. Pierzynski, and the White Sox won in a shutout seven to nothing.”
Their seats were great. Faith was nearly hoarse by the time the seventh inning stretch came around with the obligatory “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” As soon as that was over, “Don’t Stop Believin’” started playing in the background.
Caine turned to Faith and peeled off his Cubs T-shirt to reveal a White Sox one beneath. “I’m a new man because of you,” he said.
She blinked. “You don’t have to change because of me.”
He dropped to one knee and removed a pair of sandals from his backpack. They were identical to the pair she’d left behind in Positano.
“You know the story of Cinderella, right? Well, think of this as a kind of reverse Cinderella, because you’re not down on your luck, and I’m no prince, but I’ve got sandals from Positano meant just for you, made for you.”
She stared at him in disbelief. The sandals looked exactly like the ones she’d left behind, only this pair was new. Afraid she’d been hit with a foul ball and was dreaming, she looked up and saw, on the other side of the field . . . wait .