“Hey,” I said. “I’m Vincent.”
“You live around here?” Jennifer asked.
“Just up the hill.”
“Where did you go to high school?”
“Serra,” I said and realized Jennifer maybe thought I was home for the summer from college or that I worked construction full time. “I go to Stanford.” I said it with purpose. I figured it was nothing more than a white lie, since I couldn’t envision how it might hurt anyone. It didn’t go unnoticed.
Jennifer said, “Wow,” and smiled at Amy.
Not wanting her to ask me what year I was in school or for any details, I quickly asked, “How about you? Where do you go?”
“I’m a senior at UC Davis.”
“My brother and sister graduated from Davis,” I said.
“Amy goes to Fordham law school in New York. She’s visiting and hopes to go out before she goes back to start her internship at a law firm in Manhattan.”
“When do you go back?” I asked.
“Sunday.”
I shrugged. Now I could be bold. “I have plans tonight, and a softball game tomorrow night.” Mike had gotten me a spot playing second base for the Northpark Yankees during their summer softball season. Their regular second baseman had moved back to New York. A thought crossed my mind. “You’d probably like the guys I play with. They’re all from New York.”
“How do you know them?” Amy asked.
“My sister’s boyfriend is from New York and plays on the team.”
“Where do you play the games?” Jennifer asked.
“Washington Park. It’s at—”
“I went to Burlingame High School.” That’s where the park was located. “What time is the game?”
I doubted either would come to a softball game. “We play at six. Afterward, we go to Village Host on Broadway.”
“Maybe we’ll see you there,” Jennifer said.
Amy smiled.
They got back in their expensive car. Amy looked at me over her shoulder with that radiant smile that made me feel like George Kennedy watching his Lucille. Like George and the rest of the chain gang, there wasn’t a chance I was going to get to know Amy any better, so, emboldened, I gave her my best Paul Newman grin, like I knew what was what, and I had enjoyed every minute of it.
Amy blushed.
If it was the last time I ever saw her, I figured at least I’d have a good memory, one in which I wasn’t the embarrassed high school kid.
Todd and William stood on the sidewalk outside Behan’s sucking down cigarettes. Cars lined the street, parked in slanted parking spaces, and people crowded the sidewalks, eating at restaurants and enjoying the long summer days and the warm weather. Music spilled from Behan’s open windows. “Sorry,” I said. I wasn’t. Not in the least. I had rehearsed telling them the story in my head. “I ran into those two girls from next door as I was getting into my car.”
“Vincent . . . ,” William said, drawing out my name as he chuckled.
“One’s visiting from New York. She attends Fordham law school and is starting an internship at a law firm in Manhattan.”
William’s eyes went wide. “Do you know how much money lawyers make at Manhattan law firms?”
I didn’t. But I could tell from his facial expression and the tone of his question it was significant. “The other goes to UC Davis.”
“Yes, but did you ask out the one from New York who’s going to be making a lot of money?” William said, laughing.
I shrugged. “I told them we have a game tomorrow night and they should stop by Village Host.”
“You should have asked her out tonight,” William said.
I looked at Todd, who wore his ever-pensive smile that pierced right through my facade. I decided to quit while I was ahead. “Didn’t think about it,” I said.
“Let me give you some advice,” William said with his impish grin. “It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich girl, Vincent.”
Todd dropped his cigarette butt, crushed it under the toe of his boot, and walked into the bar with his “I’m the baddest man on the planet” saunter.
Narrow, the bar had dark wood, paper shamrocks, and green-and-white décor. A crowd of young men and women filled the barstools and tables up front, drinking and talking above music playing from a jukebox. I hoped the crowd meant the waitress would be too busy to take the time to ask for my ID.
We walked to an empty table at the rear where the bar widened a bit and the sound didn’t echo. Guys played darts. On the wall, near a pay phone, hung a white sign with green lettering.