I was just being ridiculous. It was just a kiss, and I went nuts. Of course, it made me think of kissing Andy and the disaster on the baseball field that followed. My brain knew that it was crazy to connect that with kissing Ian, but my gut was going to need some time to catch up.

When I shut my front door behind me after Ian and I kissed, I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t go outside for the next two days. I hid like a little kid worried that monsters were lurking outside the door. I wondered if I should call Ian, but I didn’t know what to say. I was worried that he would be working in his flower beds if I went outside.

Instead, I just binged on TV shows and then decided to check out the basement of the house. I only went down there one time when I first moved in. It was a little creepy with the darkness and the musty smell, and I wasn’t a big fan of haunted houses. It was divided up into four separate rooms and two of the rooms had floor to ceiling shelves filled with boxes. Some had handwritten names on them, but most were not labeled at all.

I forgot about the basement until I was sitting around the house for more then twenty-four hours with nothing to do but watch TV.

I was just putting my cereal bowl into the dishwasher after breakfast when I decided to make my way down the cellar steps to check out what was lurking below. I promised myself that I would open two boxes and see what was inside.

The light was provided by a single bare-bulb fixture that hung from the ceiling in the main room at the foot of the steps. I didn’t know how to choose which box to open, so I chose one with nothing piled on top. There was a small, plain wood table, not much bigger than a card table, pushed under the steps, and I pulled it out into the middle of the room.

Then I retrieved a large cardboard box from the shelves and placed it in the middle of the table. It was heavy, but it wasn’t difficult to carry. I opened it up, and it was filled with glass dishes wrapped in newspaper. They were beautiful. Some of them were clear glass molded into delicate shapes, and others were colored glass. I glanced at the header on one of the sheets of newspaper and it read April 15, 1957. I wondered if the glass had remained untouched for over fifty years.

I ultimately checked out six boxes before I went back upstairs. One was filled with old black-and-white framed photos of people. Another held more glass. One was full of books. I wondered if any of it was worth money. I decided to put everything back where I got it and think about it all as a future project.

---

I decided that my best option for dealing with the aftermath of the kiss was to ignore it. Ian gave me a call asking if I was planning to go to softball practice. I never even considered backing out on the team. I did my best to sound cheerful and asked if he would give me a ride like usual.

I told him a little bit about what I was finding in the basement, and, as we talked, I realized that I was eager to see him again. The kiss lingered in the back of my mind. It was a good one, but I had no intention of following it up with anything else.

The morning before practice, I headed downtown to get a haircut. For me, that’s a pretty simple process. It just amounts to buzzing things short and close to my scalp. Even though it’s quick and simple, it always feels like it’s giving me a new, clean start on something.

After the haircut, I walked about half a mile to the shoreline of Lake Michigan. I stared out over the huge expanse of blue water with the occasional white-capped wave. It made me feel calm. It was sort of like the feeling I got when I looked at the wheat fields on the farm back in Nebraska where we lived when I was just a little boy. On windy days, the green wheat would move back and forth in grand waves that swept up and down the rolling hills.

I was the toast of the team at practice. Since my game-winning home run in the first game of the season, every one was excited about the possibility of sweeping the opposition for the entire season. It seemed like a big jump in logic, but I was happy to join in the excitement and enthusiasm.

Then Billy, with his long black hair, jumped in and told them they were all being a little crazy to think they might suddenly win ever game. To my surprise, I responded and cleared my throat saying, “It just might happen.” I’m not someone who normally wades into any kind of significant disagreement, but my teammates roared their approval at my response.

Practice was more slick and streamlined than ever before. The team concentrated on playing well. Even Antonio seemed less distracted. He asked me a couple of questions about proper handling of ground balls in the field.

We looked like a real team on the field, and everyone was putting out their best efforts. I felt a swell of something in my chest that I soon identified as pride about being part of the team. Maybe the Soft Serves did have it in them to be league champions.

After practice, Reggie left quickly saying that he had a haircut appointment. It seemed a little late in the evening for haircuts to me, but I shrugged it off and said, “I hope you make it.”

When he was gone, Ian looked at me, and I stared back at him. We stood on opposite sides of the car. It felt a little bit awkward without Reggie as a buffer. I said, “The team looked really great tonight.”

He nodded in agreement and said, “You really lit a fire under them. It was exciting to see, and your response to Billy was perfect. He will say things like that, but when it comes down to it, he’s always a team player. He would do anything for you. He just might make a sarcastic comment while he’s doing it.”

I laughed and said, “No, Billy doesn’t bother me. He’s really important to the team, too. He’s a good player.”

Ian said, “You know, about the other night. I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”

“Something wrong?” I asked.

Ian frowned. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? I’m talking about the kiss.”

The word broke down my little wall I built up about it. I said, “It really was okay. I like you, Ian. You are a great guy and, God knows, a hot guy, too.”

I could see a look of surprise on his face, but he didn’t move. He was trying to think of something to say, and then he finally spoke urging me on by asking, “So…?”

I hung my head and said, “I guess I’m not quite as straight as I pretend to be. I had a bad experience with a guy, though, and I don’t think I’m ready to jump into being gay.”

Ian said, “You don’t just ‘jump into’ being gay…you are gay.”

Whether it was there or not, I heard something like a lecturing tone. I put my hands on the top of the car and said, “Look, you don’t need to tell me all about that. I probably said it all the wrong way. Yes, I’m gay. Yes, I get my rocks off thinking about guys, but I’m not dating guys, and I’m not going to bed with guys. I’m not ready to be out about being gay, if it’s really that, but I doubt it. I’m not hiding a damn thing, because I’m doing nothing. I just want to be me, and if somebody wants to think I’m straight, because I’m not fucking a guy, then that’s fine.”

Ian blinked. He started to walk around the car toward me and then stopped. He said, “I’m sorry. I probably said things all the wrong way, too. You are an awesome guy, Blake. I really think that.”

I didn’t expect that kind of response. I expected him to rattle on about the evils of me not being out and proud. The only thing that I could think of to say was, “You are, too, Ian.” Then I said, “There’s another reason I feel like keeping it all a little close to my chest.”

“What’s that?” asked Ian.

“I’m starting to look for that job. The money I’ve got to keep me afloat isn’t going to last forever. I might be wrong, but it still seems like in a lot of places being openly gay isn’t the best strategy for being hired.”

He sighed and shook his head, “Yeah, you are probably right about that, unfortunately. Things are getting better, particularly downtown, but if you are looking out in the suburbs, it can be hard for a gay guy. I’ve had too many friends turned down when their qualifications were solid.” Then he asked, “What kind of work are you looking for?”

I reached up and ran a hand across the top of my head. I was a little bit ashamed that I couldn’t say some kind of professional field, but the reality was that I didn’t take college seriously and ended up with a generalist degree that was likely worth very little on the open job market. I said, “Really, almost anything. I just worked a bunch of odd jobs around the baseball. Fortunately, I don’t need a lot of money. My uncle owns the house, so I’m not even paying rent.”

Ian smiled and said, “Well, I’ll definitely let you know if I see anything pop up. Let me ask you, would you take something in the lgbtq community if that popped up? I’m just asking because Reggie has a lot of connections through his work, and sometimes he asks me if I know anyone good for a particular position.”

I said, “Oh, yeah, definitely. I will consider almost anything.” I felt humbled that they would want to help me out. “You know, that’s really nice of you, because you don’t have to do that.”

Ian walked the rest of the way around the car. He stepped up close and looked up into my face. He said, “Blake, I really want to be friends. We can back off from the kiss, but everything else has been great. So, please, consider it as a favor for a friend.”

I couldn’t help myself. I opened my arms and reached out to Ian for a hug. I said, “I want to be friends, too, and I feel like I’m a little bit of a dope about life right now, but I’ll catch on.” I held him tight in my arms. He felt good. Then I tensed feeling worried that it could lead to another kiss.

Ian pulled back from the hug and said, “You’re no more of a dope than the rest of us. We’re just here trying to help each other make it through and have a little bit of fun along the way.” Then he stopped and looked up at the sky before looking back at me. He said, “Damn, I’m really not trying to be profound, but shit like that comes out of my mouth once in awhile.”

We both laughed, and I said, “I gotta go for now. It was a good practice. I’m looking forward to the next game.”

Ian said, “I think it’s fair to say the entire team is looking forward to the next game.”

As I climbed the steps toward the house, I realized I still had the glove on my left hand. I curled the fingers of my right hand into a fist and pounded it into the glove. When I reached the top of the hill, just before climbing on to the porch, I bent over like I was scooping a grounder.

Ian called from his house, “Don’t miss that ground ball, stud!”