Ted knew that if he asked Jill to intercede, she would. They may have failed at marriage, but they were friends. He had precious few of those, and so he did not ask.

“Do you want me to ask her? I don’t know if she would do it, even for me, but I can try.”

He felt himself capitulating to her kindness. A mistake. Their relationship depended on two things—giving and forgiving as much as possible and taking only what was absolutely necessary.

“I didn’t offer lightly, my dear,” she said. “If you want my help, you’ve got it.”

“No,” he said. “I’ll call her. If she won’t talk to me, I’ll drop it.”

“I’ll give you her cell phone. Not the firm’s phone. Hers.”

“You want another hot dog? I’m buying.”

“If that’s a thank-you, I’ll take it,” she said.

“Thank you. Now, do you want the dog?”

“No. I want the short rib grilled cheese sandwich from Pressed.”

“Will do.” Ted rarely took advantage of the fact that Citi Field had possibly the best food court anywhere on the planet. When they served Nathan’s in a ballpark, his epicurean needs were fulfilled. Jill, however, reveled in the diversity.

“And another beer.”

“All that for a telephone number?”

“Are you going by Box Frites?”

“And fries? Aioli sauce?”

“Hurry back. First pitch is in four minutes.”

-11-

-11-

They let the flow of the crowd carry them out of the park. The night had grown cool.

“Do you know that guy?” Jill asked once they’d reached the parking lot.

As Jill had failed to indicate which guy out of the thousands streaming by them, Ted asked the obvious: “Who?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Now he’s gone. Which is weird, because he’s big. Monument big.”

Ted didn’t see anyone who fit that description or anywhere such a person could have hidden. “What did he look like?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t see him. He was sitting in the next section, and he kept staring at you instead of the game.”

Ted flashed back to the man outside of Gallagher’s. The giant who he was sure had accompanied Cheryl. He scanned the crowd again. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Because he wasn’t creepy until he followed us outside.”

There were any number of “big” people around but none who qualified as monument sized. And none who appeared to be paying any attention to Ted or Jill.

“Maybe he was just walking to the nearest exit,” he said. “Like everybody else here.”

Jill dismissed the possibility—and the subject—with a toss of her hair. “Can I drop you somewhere?”