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“Why aren’t you at work? This is your last week, right?” He asks.
“Oh, I’m done at OPS, I just need to go in and get the rest of my stuff on Friday. They’re throwing a goodbye party for me, so I’ll go to that, clear out the rest of the office and say my final goodbyes. Rachael is fully brought up to speed and there was nothing left for me to do. So, I told Mr. Lyons that I didn’t want to waste his payroll with me just sitting there.”
“Does this mean that we can be lazy together all day long?” He asks with a hopeful voice.
“It does.” I nod.
“These moments are rare, we must treasure them.” He smiles lazily.
“You sound like a Hallmark card, are you still drunk?”
“I may be a little bit drunk, but for real - with all the shit that we even do in the off season - which feels like a fucking blink of an eye - we rarely lounge around. I vote full laziness for the next two days. I have a feeling that is what will help me in Friday night’s game.”
“So the rumors that I heard were true, you guys are tied for the wild card with San Francisco?” I pause the show and turn to him.
“Yeah, and the Skipper is hoping that I’ll play the whole game, I guess as my last hurrah for the Hornets.”
“Guess, I should make it down to the field, huh?” I wink.
“You know, if you want to and all,” Gunnar shrugs with a small smile.
We sit quietly for a moment and I look at him.
“You getting sad about the change?” I ask, lowering my voice affectionately.
“It’s just surreal. I started out here in San Diego, and it’s not like Arizona is far, but it’s different.”
“And hot as balls, don’t forget the hot as balls part.”
“Like a sweaty arm pit.”
“Molten lava.”
“Like a sauna.”
“At least air conditioning was invented, so that way I don’t melt like the wicked witch.”
“There’s not an inch of your soul that is wicked,” Gunnar leans over and nuzzles his nose against my hair.
“You know, Halloween is just around the corner.” I say as I produce my best wicked witch cackle.
Gunnar looks at me with a blank stare and shakes his head.
“Zombies. Let’s finish watching the zombies,” he points to the television.
One episode turns into a full on marathon of finding our favorite episodes over the past eight years of the show, and before we know it - we’ve wasted the day and the sun is beginning to set below the ball field out our window. I take advantage of the day and order a pizza for dinner with no debate from Gunnar aside from the toppings.
I pinch Gunnar’s non-existent stomach, trying to dig into the washboard of abs instead.
“Cinnamon rolls and pizza, I think you may need to go do some laps and full on cardio to make up for all this.”
“I’ll go for cardio, bedroom cardio please,” he smiles.
TWENTY
GUNNAR
THE BRIGHT LIGHTS of the stadium are blinding, with the neon flashing lights from some of the digital signage around the field. The fans are starting to take their seats just as some of the organizations promo girls are tossing balls back and forth with some of the outfielders.
