Free Out of My League by Dirk Hayhurst

leaning her head back on me and settling back into the solace of the evening.
    I took a deep breath. I needed to tell her what was really on my heart.
    “I’m leaving in two months,” I said, breaking the mood, “but I want you to know that I don’t want to leave you.”
    “I know. I don’t want you to go, either, but I understand why you have to.”
    “I know you do.” I offered a melancholy smile and hooked her hair over her ears. “I quit my job at Circuit City today,” I said.
    “Really, why?”
    “It just wasn’t worth it. I was making next to nothing to be there and it was more of a distraction than an asset. I’ve got enough saved now to get through the rest of the off-season and I have baseball lessons that pay well. There are other things I want to focus on now.” I looked at Bonnie, who seemed to be following along as best she could.
    “That makes sense, I guess,” said Bonnie.
    “You know how much Adam said I could make in Winter Ball?”
    “No, you didn’t tell me.”
    “Ten thousand dollars.”
    “Wow, really?” Then, like a chill took hold of her, she was suddenly aware of where this conversation was going. “So, you’re going to go after all?”
    I looked away, trying to find some hidden strength to lift the words I had on my mind. “No. No, I’m not.”
    “But if it’s such a good opportunity, why wouldn’t you?”
    “I love playing baseball, but it’s not giving me the quality of life I thought it would. I’m not sure if the money would do that, either. I’m sure it would help, but ...” I wasn’t sure if my rationale was accurate or not since I’d never had money before, but I said it anyway. “Honestly, I don’t know if getting to the big leagues is going to justify all the crap I’ve gone through to get there. I’ve seen what life is like when all you have is baseball.
    “Can I ask you something?” I continued.
    “Sure.”
    “Something big?”
    “Of course.” She inched back to take me in.
    “Something really big?”
    “Yes.” She chuckled. “You can ask me anything.”
    “I think I want to marry you.”
    Bonnie started blinking as the words hit warp speed in her head. A smile bloomed on her quickly blushing face. “That’s not a question,” she objected.
    “Bonnie, I love you. I love you for all the right reasons. When I’m with you I feel better about who I am and where I’m going. It’s like I know that even if everything else goes wrong, at least I got you right. As long as I’m in this line of work I know that I have to give up half of my year to my job, and for the first time in my entire career I’m more worried about what I’ll lose during that half year than what I might gain. I don’t want to lose you.”
    “You’re not going to,” she promised.
    “You say that now.”
    “You’re not,” she insisted. Her face was like a dam ready to burst with emotion. Then she sat up on her knees and looked me in the face. “But you still haven’t asked me anything.”
    “I know, and I’m kind of afraid to, even though I think I know what you’ll say.” Her face was practically sending out the invitations. “I’m afraid because I want to do this right. I don’t want circumstances to dictate how this will work. I don’t have any money for a ring and I don’t even know when we could do it, but I need to know. I need to know the reasons I’m acting on aren’t unfounded. Instead, let’s say if I were to ask you that question, what do you think you would say, considering a few—”
    “I’d say yes,” she blurted.
    “That’s, well, that’s wonderful! Believe me, I am so happy you said that, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you everything I was thinking.” Bonnie sat back as I explained all the details concerning marrying a baseball player, the distance issues, the money issues, and the timing issues.
    “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Baseball kills relationships. I don’t want this one to die.