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Dave sat on his couch. It was late and the lights were off. A fire crackled in the fireplace.
He sipped his scotch. He held the glass steady against his leg, put his head back, and closed his eyes. He heard the front door open and waited silently.
Derek was still shaking his head in exasperation as he hung his coat in the closet by the door. After the noise of the ballpark, the sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor was unnaturally loud in his ears. He sank down next to Dave. He sighed heavily. “That sucked.”
Dave didn’t move. “I know.”
Derek shook his head again. “We had it. We had it.”
Dave blew out a long breath. “I know.”
“Six, Dave,” Derek said in a voice as close to a whine as he could get. “We were up by six. You’re supposed to win when you’re up by six in the third.”
Dave opened his eyes. He smiled wryly and handed his glass to Derek. “I know. I was watching. The team was here. We were hoping to see you and Garcia. Who did she bribe to get two seats behind the home dugout anyway?”
“I don’t know. She told me not to question the Goddess’ methods.” Not even talking about Penelope brought a smile to Derek’s face. He finished the glass. “The crowd was electric. I’ve never been to a game that intense before.”
“Look at it this way. The Nats are a young team. It’ll be a good learning experience. They still had a great season, much better than our Cubbies.”
“Right,” Derek huffed. He set his glass on the table and leaned back against the couch. He settled in against Dave’s side. “But why did it have to be against them? Why won’t they lose?”
Dave put an arm around Derek. He grimaced as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. “I wish I knew.”
Derek’s lip curled into a sneer. “Fuckin’ Cardinals. I hope the Giants have Redbird kryptonite.”