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“What?” He tries to play innocent. “I like to think about the future.”
“Maybe you should point your thoughts in another direction,” I tell him.
On one hand, it irritates me that he’s so sure he’ll win. On the other, I’m kind of hoping he does. Did I just think that? Maybe I should stop drinking...
“What about your parents?” I question, eager to get the conversation back on track.
“My dad died when I was ten and my mom passed a year ago in December.”
My chest instantly tightens.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He gives me an easy smile, reaching over to rest his hand just above my knee. I try to ignore how that one touch radiates through my entire body.
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“My dad was killed at work. A machine malfunction. Complete freak accident. My mom passed of Huntington’s Disease. She had been fighting the battle so long. As sad as it was to let her go, it was almost a relief at the same time. She struggled for years and it gave me comfort knowing she was finally at peace.”
“Did she live with you?”
“I lived with her through college and a couple years after, but then it got to the point where I couldn’t do it alone. With Everett gone, I had no choice but to put her in a long-term facility.”
“Was she somewhere here in Boston?”
“Maine.”
“Maine?”
“That’s where I’m from. I moved here after my mom passed.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
I’m starting to think maybe he’s right...
“So why Boston?”
“My dad brought me here one year. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven. He brought me to a Sox game.” His eyes sweep the field of players before coming back to me. “Among other things. I remember being so enamored by everything. When I decided it was time for a change, Boston was where I wanted to be.”
“I get that. If I were ever going to move I’d probably want to move somewhere that I had some kind of connection to.”
“Exactly. It felt like home the day I arrived.”
I let the silence drift between us as we both turn our attention back to the game, but a thought hits me and without really meaning to, I ask it.
“Huntington’s Disease, isn’t that hereditary?”
“It is.” He nods, his gaze coming back to me. “Don’t worry, I don’t have it. Neither does Everett. My mom had us both tested. I didn’t really want to know, but I guess it’s better now that I do.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could live with the not knowing.”
“You already do.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know what’s going to happen in the next week, or year. Hell, you don’t know what’s going to happen in the next five minutes. Life is all about not knowing what’s next.” He pauses, leaning in so close that our foreheads almost touch. “For example, I bet you had no idea that this was going to happen.” He runs his nose along mine. I breathe in deep, relishing his intoxicating scent as it dances around me, overwhelming my senses.
