But she squeezed his hand and felt herself smile.
They continued strolling to the entrance on Jersey Street. “See how the park blends into the neighborhood. All the buildings are similar,” said Doug, gesturing toward the surrounding streets.
“Yes. It’s a real city ballpark and a very small one.”
“That’s for sure. Can’t even hold forty thousand fans. So, here’s the story: In 1984, Roger Clemens arrived in Boston for the first time and took a taxi to the park.” He paused and looked at her. “You do know who Roger Clemens is, don’t you?”
Laughing, she nodded. “Pitcher.”
“But when the cab arrived, Clemens argued with the driver. Told him Fenway Park was a baseball stadium and this building was nothing but a warehouse!”
“Really?” she asked with a chuckle. “Okay, I hadn’t heard that one.”
“Want to hear the ending?”
How could she let him down? “Of course, I want the ending.”
“The driver told him to look up. And when he did, Clemens saw the stadium light towers and knew he was in the right place.”
Just as I am.
“I like it. Wonderful bit of Fenway history.” Jen tilted her head back and stared at his familiar face, the face she’d never forgotten, and saw nothing else. Not the park, not the buildings, not the other pedestrians.
“When you smile at me like that…” His voice was raspy as he leaned toward her. She tilted her head back, waiting…and was rewarded. His kiss was strong and exploring. And with his arms snugly around her, Jen’s world became rock solid. Until…
“Hey, look at them go!”
“Save it for the KISS-CAM.”
“There’s a home run in sight, and the game hasn’t even started!”
The whistles came, hoots and hollers, too.
“Oh, my God,” said Jen, hiding herself against Doug’s chest.
His deep laughter was all she heard. “They’re just having fun—and they’re
jealous of the luckiest guy around! But I like the idea of a KISS-CAM. Let the whole world know.”
Jen shook her head, basking in her personal discovery. “I’d like to enjoy our own world for a while longer.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. You call the shots.”
They entered the stadium holding hands, until Doug had to produce their tickets.
“Hmm…nice. I was too busy working to give it much thought, but we’re near center field. We’ve got to climb, but we’ll have a good view.”
“Oh, look,” said Jen, pointing at the scoreboard. “Red Sox vs. Yankees. What could be better than Boston against New York?” Jennifer grinned up at him. “My brothers would have loved to be here.”
“And I’m glad to have you alone!”
They found their seats, not surprised to be surrounded by fans. “Looks like a sold-out game,” said Jen.
“You can say that again, girlie,” commented the big man sitting next to her with large cup of beer in hand. “And we’re gonna show those Yankees how baseball is played in Boston.”
“I hope so,” she said, before turning toward Doug.
“Want to change seats with me?” Doug asked quietly. “That guy’s partying already and the game hasn’t even started yet.”
Jen patted his hand. “He’s just enjoying the anticipation. Do you think a Riders’
game with quarterback Mike Brennan is a tea party?”
“Bad analogy, sweetheart. That Boston Tea Party was not a timid event.”
“Okay, okay,” she said with a groan. “But you get my meaning. And after all, how many Yankee fans would travel here just for a regular game?”
His eyes opened wide. “Are you kidding? A lot. Take a look.”
Jen began noting all the navy blue caps with New York’s signature white NY in front. Yankee fans were scattered everywhere, including in the row in front of theirs. Doug’s observation might have been accurate.
“New York and Boston are really not that far apart,” Doug said quietly.
For just a nanosecond, Jen’s stomach tightened. But distance was not an issue now. In fact, maybe her tension was an automatic response.
“Point taken. New York is a fine place—to visit.”
His laughter was contagious. “From time to time, as needed?”
