It all happened really fast, but it felt really good, too. Since Ian and I lived next door to each other, and we fell into a pattern of alternating nights in each of our houses. We slept together like we were living together, but we quickly decided his house would remain his space, and my house was mine. We were in charge of our own castles.

It was inevitable, though, that some lines began to blur. Ian suggested planting flowers to help spruce up the appearance of my house, and I was happy to let him indulge. I did choose the basic color scheme, and I wanted different flowers, so it wouldn’t look exactly like Ian’s house.

Nights ran late, because I worked at the bar, and mornings were luxurious and long. Neither of us had to be anywhere in particular in the morning other than in each other’s arms. One morning about 10:00 a.m., I was lying in Ian’s bed with one arm raised over my head and propped up slightly on the pillow. He was drawing slow, lazy circles on my chest with a fingertip. Then he asked, “Can you believe this, Blake? Almost all of our friends are busy at work, and we get to lie here together until almost noon. I’m not sure life is supposed to be this good.”

I said, “Yeah, in the minors ,we would be out on the field already taking batting practice or throwing the ball around in the outfield. I loved some things about it, but a lot of it was just really tough, grinding work.”

Ian said, “I couldn’t wait to get out of a cubicle. I hope I never need to go back. “

Then I asked, “So what is your big dream, Ian? I mean, beyond here. Or is there one? Are you expecting to live here forever?”

Ian laughed.

“Is there something funny about that?” I asked.

“Well, would you want to be in this little house in this little neighborhood forever? It’s nice, and a good part of the city for living, but there are better places. Certainly, there is better weather.”

“So where is the dream, Ian?”

He said, “Sometimes I think it would be great to go somewhere like Portland or Seattle, and then I think overseas is the way to go. Lots of guys like me ust work on the computer and go places like Thailand or Bali in Indonesia. They don’t have to live anywhere in particular.”

My eyes opened wide. “You would go somewhere like that? I’ve never been out of the country.”

“Not even Canada?” asked Ian.

I said, “Nope. My family went to southern California one time and the San Diego Zoo. My sister and I wanted to go cross the border into Mexico, but my parents said no. That’s the closest I’ve ever come. I wanted to travel with the major league salary, but that didn’t happen.”

Ian asked, “So when I have the money saved up, will you come with me, Blake?”

“Come with you? Where?”

“Traveling the world,” said Ian. “Anywhere we want to go.”

I said, “I’ll be right at your side. I think I’ve already bought the ticket.”

---

The Soft Serves were on a roll. We lost our second game, but then we won two more in a row. Reggie said that we were tied with the most games the team won in a year in its history. We were guaranteed playing a minimum of twenty games for the season. I thought about year after year of losing more than fifteen games. I couldn’t imagine slogging through it without getting down, but my teammates carried it off with style. I was learning more and more about playing just for the love of the game.

Billy Alvey and I continued to butt heads from time to time. I was still closeted to my teammates. Ian and I treated each other like buddies at practice and when playing games. Billy caught me staring at Ian, and asked, “Are you sure you’re not just a little bent, Powell?” as we jogged toward the dugout.

I asked, “Are you a little jealous, Billy? Would you like me to stare at you instead?”

Despite our banter, we played off each other perfectly as teammates. I settled into the #3 batting position in the lineup, and Billy was our #4 cleanup. I swung less for home runs knowing that he was there to back me up, and he got to drive in more runs. I could feel something like a cockeyed friendship grow out of the mutual respect for each other’s talents on the field.

I don’t know why, exactly, but I was surprised to find out that Antonio was married, and just two years ago he lived in southern California. A handsome, immaculately dressed white man appeared to pick Antonio up after a practice session, and he said, “Blake, I want you to meet my man, Lex.” Antonio’s husband was quiet, but I could see something mischievous in his eyes. That must have been what drew him to Antonio.

As I got to know my teammates even better, I felt more and more conflict about them not knowing my relationship with Ian. I asked him about it, and Ian just said, “Take your time. We’re not in a rush. You will know when’s the right time to let everyone else know.”

I could feel myself start to make it all into a bigger issue than it deserved to be. As we sat in the dugout together, I wanted to throw my arms around Ian and give him a kiss like we would at home. I felt even more strongly that way when we won a game. There was no need for anyone to know, but I wanted them to know. I wanted them to be happy for me or envious of me, whichever way their internal emotions took them. Instead, to most of them I was just the straight guy who liked the relaxed, lighthearted atmosphere of gay softball.

---

Ian was searing a pair of fish filets on the stovetop at my house while I set the kitchen table with plates and silverware. I was brewing a pitcher of iced tea, and my stomach was starting to rumble in anticipation of the meal. Then a knock came at the kitchen door. I jumped briefly. I didn’t get many visitors at my house.

Approaching the door, I saw Reggie staring in at me. When I pulled open the door, he said, “Yum, something smells good.” Then he added, “Guys, I’m getting tired of going solo. Are you both turning into domestic vegetables?”

While Ian flipped one of the filets, he said, “Awww, come on in Reggie, these are big enough that I can divide them up into three plates.”

He said, “You don’t have to. I really didn’t mean to barge in on your dinner.”

I said, “Go ahead and barge. I guess we are being a little withdrawn. I go to work at the bar and then I spend the rest of the day in my house or Ian’s house.”

“Are you sure you’re not just jealous, Reggie?” asked Ian.

“Who, me?” He reached up and ran his fingers through his coarse, wavy hair. “Okay, yeah, maybe a little, but you both are actually giving me some inspiration. I put up a profile on a dating site again. I thought maybe I could see a few guys and have some fun before Connor gets home in the fall.”

I put an arm around his shoulder. “That’s great. Any interesting nibbles?”

“Mostly just creepy ones so far,” said Reggie. “You know the type. ‘I really love your eyes. They make me wanna…,’ or, ‘You look like the guy I wanna take with me to live in Borneo…tomorrow.”

Ian giggled. “You do like to travel. You’ve said that to me before.”

Reggie seated himself at the table. “I am really happy for the two of you. You look great together, and I hope I’m the best man in the wedding someday. Remember that. I’m first in line.”

Ian laughed again. He said, “I think you’re gonna have to wait awhile for that, Reggie. We haven’t heard the wedding bells in the distance yet.”

Reggie winked and said, “Maybe you’re not listening close enough.”