OVER THE NEXT week, Ben went into Atlanta as often as his schedule allowed. Donnie’s eyes lit up each time he saw Ben come through the door, and they chatted a little over coffee after every meeting. But Donnie didn’t give Ben any indication that he would like them to get together again. Ben was disappointed but tried to give Donnie space. They hardly knew each other yet, and Donnie had a lot on his plate already. Maybe if Ben could suggest going somewhere that didn’t sound like a date? But as much as he racked his brains, nothing appropriate came to mind.

Ben also grew more and more worried about Donnie. He looked tired and pale every time Ben saw him. The swellings on his face were still very noticeable, and it took a long time for the bruising to start to fade.

On Thursday, Helen temporarily swept Donnie from Ben’s mind. She came into the kitchen early in the morning while Ben drank his coffee, trying to dispel the remnants of a confused and unsettling dream he couldn’t quite remember.

“I’m taking Laura to my parents for a few weeks. I need to get away from everything for a bit.”

It was like someone had punched him in the stomach. Ben tried to draw breath but found he almost couldn’t. He saw stars, and his heart felt like it was ripped from his chest. “Don’t...” His voice faltered and he had to try again. “Don’t do this, Helen. Don’t take her away from me.”

Helen’s eyes were sad and a little desperate. “Ben, I swear, I’m not trying to keep her from you. You’re a good dad. But I need some distance, to figure out what I want to do next, and she can’t stay here with you. You’ve got work, and this is all very unsettling for her. We’ll talk, every day, if you want. I promise, Ben, I’m not trying to deceive you.”

Ben nodded, still feeling numb but reassured nevertheless. Helen wasn’t a liar, and she didn’t play games. If she said she needed to get away to clear her head, then that was what was going on. And this situation was as hard on her as it was on him.

Ben tried to collect his thoughts and asked as calmly as he could, “When are you going?”

“Tomorrow. I’ve made preparations, but I don’t want to sneak away. I want to go with your blessing.”

Tears stung Ben’s eyes. “You’ve got it, Helen.”

So Ben saw Helen and Laura off on Friday morning. He smiled and waved as the car grew smaller and smaller. He’d fought hard not to cry in front of his daughter and already thought of the AA meeting after work. Ever since Helen’s startling announcement the day before the desire to head for the nearest liquor store had been growing stronger and stronger.

THAT NIGHT, SETTLING into the familiarity of the meeting was a relief. Donnie snuck in after Arthur had already started the serenity prayer and sat down next to Ben at the back of the room.

He gave Ben a frown as he looked him over. “You okay?” he whispered, and Ben nodded, trying for a smile. Donnie shifted in his seat until his leg touched Ben’s, and Ben was grateful for the small gesture. He looked at Donnie’s profile but then frowned. Donnie looked awful. His face was white, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Ben found it hard to concentrate on the speakers all throughout the meeting.

After Arthur led them in the prayer again, Donnie turned to Ben. “Hey, listen...” But then he stopped, unsettled. “Why you looking at me like this?”

“Donnie, you feeling okay?” Ben asked. “You’re really pale.”

Donnie shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine, just tired. I’m not sleeping so well, what with…” He trailed off, looking uneasy. It was his missing brother that kept Donnie awake at night, Ben had no doubt. But then Donnie gave himself a shake and continued, “Look, I was wondering. If your free tomorrow... some kid’s dad had spare tix for the Braves. You wanna go?”

A bubble of happiness pushed away the gloomy thoughts in Ben’s mind. “I sure wanna go! Pick you up around noon?”

“Yeah, that works,” Donnie said, eyes bright with happiness. “Gotta catch Arthur now. I’ll see you tomorrow!” And with a quick wave, he hurried to the front of the room.

As Donnie talked with Arthur, Ben leaned back in his seat, amazed. Look at that. And I’ve been trying so hard to find something to do that wasn’t a date. I should’ve thought of baseball!

“HERE WE ARE,” Ben said, giving Donnie a lopsided grin. The other man gave him a quick smile. This really wasn’t a date, Ben had almost convinced himself.

A baseball game was an activity two guys could enjoy together without it having deeper significance.

Then why did it feel so much like a date?

“Do you want a pretzel? Or a hot dog? Soda?” Ben asked.

Donnie shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“All right. I think I’ll get a Coke.”

“That’s our seats.” Donnie handed Ben the tickets. “I’ll meet you there.”

He walked toward the restrooms. Ben frowned after him. They hadn’t talked much on the drive into the city. Donnie had raised an eyebrow when Ben switched on the country music station, but hadn’t commented. At first, Ben had assumed it was just their nervousness that made them shy around each other. Now he wasn’t so sure. Donnie had looked more and more pale as they’d sped down the interstate and, toward the end had shifted around in his seat as if in discomfort. Something wasn’t right with him.

The line at the concession stand was long, and it took Ben a while to buy his soda. When he got to their seats, Donnie was already waiting.

“You okay?” Ben asked, seeing that Donnie had gone a shade paler still. Donnie nodded, quailing under Ben’s scrutiny.

“I know squat about baseball,” he said. Ben took the hint. Donnie didn’t want to discuss whatever made him feel under the weather.

“Same,” Ben said with a grin. “Just about all I know is that there are nine innings.”

Donnie nodded. “And they sing a song halfway through the sixth.”

“The seventh,” Ben corrected. When Donnie quirked an eyebrow in surprise, he added, “Laura, my daughter. She’s a big fan. Plays on her school team, too. She’s pretty good, actually. I go to their games and pretend I know what’s going on.”

Donnie’s smile was a little wistful, but his eyes twinkled with warmth. “A tomboy, huh? Bet your real proud.”

“I am,” Ben said, smiling. “She’s tougher than any of the boys on the team. I hope you’ll get to meet her soon.”

Donnie’s eyes sparkled. For a moment, it was like they were all alone in the bleachers. “I’d really like that,” he said. Then the umpire called Play! and both men turned their attention to the field.

As the crowd got more and more caught up by what Ben assumed had to be an exciting game, he let himself relax. Slumping in his seat, his leg soon touched Donnie’s, and Donnie didn’t draw away. Donnie never directly looked at him, but several times, quick flicks of indigo flitted in Ben’s direction.

At some point during the third inning, Donnie nudged Ben. “What’s he doing?” Ben followed Donnie’s gaze and grinned. Several rows below, a portly man wearing a Boonie hat scribbled furiously in a notebook.

“I think he’s counting.”

“Counting?” Donnie said, confused.

“You know, game statistics. Batting averages, runs...” Ben caught Donnie’s look of incomprehension and chuckled. “Some people get a kick out of that stuff.”

“Weird shit.” Donnie shook his head in wonderment, then shrugged. “Guess everyone needs a hobby.” He gave Ben a small grin. Ben wanted to ask Donnie all about his hobbies and what he liked to do in his time off, but then decided now was not the moment. They had plenty of time to get to know each other.

When the umpire stopped the game after the first half of the seventh inning, Ben stood up. “Can I get you something now? I’m famished, I think I’ll get a hot dog.” Donnie shook his head. His left hand had wandered onto his stomach, but when he realized that Ben had seen, he dropped it to his side. “Nah, thanks, Ben.”

“You sure? Ice cream, maybe? Or candy? Something for that sweet tooth?” Before he could think about it twice, Ben winked at Donnie, feeling both excited and foolish at his clumsy attempt of flirting.

Donnie blushed and started chewing his lip. Then he grinned. “Oh, all right. Get me an ice cream? Something with chocolate.”

“You got it.”

Ben went up the steps to the concession stand and joined the long line of hungry baseball fans. As they shuffled forward, Ben found he didn’t mind the wait. He let his mind wander back to Donnie. He enjoyed the time they spent together a lot, even if they were still a little awkward around each other. It was nice to sit so close to Donnie, and brush against him now and then without it being obvious. The opportunity to buy the other man a treat made Ben happy.

When he made his way back to their seats with Donnie’s ice cream bar in one hand and a hot dog for himself in the other, he saw Donnie emerge from the restrooms a little way ahead. Donnie didn’t notice him and was back in his seat by the time Ben returned. Ben was concerned at how gray his face looked. But he said nothing. Talking about whatever was wrong clearly made Donnie uncomfortable.

“Here you go,” was all he said as he handed Donnie the ice cream. Donnie unwrapped the chocolate and vanilla bar and started to nibble it as the last chords of Take Me Out to the Ball Game faded away and the game resumed. Ben ignored the game and kept his eyes on Donnie. When he had finished his hot dog, Ben crumpled up the cardboard container and turned around to face him.

“Listen,” he said gently, indicating the half-eaten ice cream in Donnie’s hand. “You don’t need to finish that if you don’t feel like it.”

Donnie looked at him, expression miserable. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Ben,” he said very quietly.

“Not your fault that you aren’t feeling well.” Ben considered for a moment. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“What about the game?”

Ben shrugged. “Neither of us even knows what’s going on down there, and frankly, I don’t care.”

Donnie nodded, looking relieved. They got up and filed out of the bleachers past the grumbling people on whose feet they were treading, then discarded the hot dog wrapper and uneaten ice cream into a trash can before exiting the stadium.

On the drive back to Corinth, Donnie kept his gaze trained out of the window, seeming to fight his eyes sliding shut. Ben longed to tell him that it was okay for him to nap a little if he wanted but couldn’t work up the courage.

But when they stopped outside the Saunders’s house, he put his hand on Donnie’s arm before the other man could open the door. “Do you want me to take you to a doctor, Donnie? You really don’t look good.” He ignored Donnie’s surprise and embarrassment, trying not to feel guilty as he held on to the other man’s denim jacket. He wanted to help this guy he was developing all these feelings for.

But Donnie shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. Just need an early night. Thanks for today, Ben. I’ll see you soon.” And before Ben could stop him or say anything in response, Donnie had clambered from the car and walked up the path to the house, not looking back.

Ben sat for several minutes after Donnie had disappeared inside, torn between his concern and respecting Donnie’s wish to be alone. Then, with a sigh, he turned the car around and drove home, trying to ignore the feeling of unease that gnawed away at his gut.