The pink heart frame found us at 8:21 PM.
KISS CAM presented by Rebound
Thirty-one thousand people went "Ohhh."
I leaned in.
It was our second anniversary.
We'd met in these seats two years ago, to the day.
I'd packed his sandwich for the game.
Turkey, no tomato.
Garrett didn't lean in.
He stood up.
He reached under Seat 7 and lifted a white foam board over his head.
The pink letters were a little crooked, like a kid had done them.
SORRY CALLIE. WE'RE DONE.
The heart frame held us both.
Garrett held the sign up for three full seconds.
He was counting.
Then he dropped it on his seat.
He climbed the steps without a word.
He didn't look back once.
Two seconds later, the board changed.
SINGLE CAM 💔 presented by Rebound
The camera swung to Section 113.
A woman in a teal jersey sat in Row A, Seat 1.
She held up a sign of her own.
I'LL TAKE HIM
The park roared.
Then the camera came back to me.
My face was forty feet tall.
My mouth was still open a little from leaning in.
The replay ran underneath, and my name went by again in pink.
Behind me, a man had his phone up.
"Smile, sweetheart."
"You're on."
The woman in Seat 9 stood up.
She'd heard me wish him happy anniversary in the third inning.
"On your ANNIVERSARY?!"
Half the section laughed.
The other half filmed.
I couldn't make my hands do anything.
Then a ball came up out of the dugout.
Rhett Langford was standing on the top step.
He was the Ospreys' ace.
Seven minutes earlier, he'd gotten his 200th strikeout of the year.
The catcher had flipped him the ball on the way in.
He'd been holding it ever since.
Now he tossed it underhand, five rows up, straight at me.
I caught it one-handed.
Twenty-two five-year-olds had trained my hands.
Juice boxes, crayons, shoes.
Things come at you fast in Room 104.
The ball had a smear of mud on one seam.
Rhett pointed at me.
Then he pointed down at Seat 8.
My seat.
He kept his finger there.
He didn't smile.
He just waited.
The noise in the park changed.
I don't know how else to say it.
Somebody in 112 got it first.
"STAY!"
Then the whole section joined in.
"STAY! STAY! STAY!"
The board cut away to the hot dog race.
I sat down.
My phone buzzed in my lap at 8:24 PM.
Uber's on me. Don't make it weird.
I didn't book one.
Two years.
His dentist appointment was on my calendar for Tuesday.
His mother's birthday was on there too.
I'd already bought the card.
I thought about the fourth inning instead.
Around 7:35, a kid with an Osprey Studios lanyard had leaned over our row.
"Seat seven?"
Garrett had nodded.
The kid had checked something on a tablet and left.
I'd thought it was a giveaway.
T-shirts, maybe.
Garrett liked free things.
He'd been checking his phone since the fifth.
I'd thought he was checking the score.
I picked the sign up off Seat 7.
It was lighter than it looked.
A crease already ran across the middle.
I folded it there, back inside, words out.
The foam cracked.
I didn't read it again.
I'd already read it at forty feet.
It fit in my canvas tote with an inch to spare.
The man behind me leaned forward.
"You're keeping it?"
"Ma'am, that's kind of sad."
His phone was still up.
I turned around in my seat.
I used the voice I use on the reading rug.
"I'm watching the game."
"You should too."
He lowered the phone.
I turned back around.
In the seventh, Rhett struck out the side.
Three batters.
I counted every pitch.
The ball sat in my lap the whole time.
Seat 7 stayed empty.
The Ospreys won, 4 to 1.
The board posted the attendance in the ninth.
31,206
Kaitlyn had texted me eleven times.
I answered once.
I'm fine. Watching the game.
I didn't leave with the crowd.
I waited until the steps had cleared.
Then I walked the concourse with my tote on my shoulder.
At 10:05 PM, every TV over every beer stand showed the clubhouse.
Rhett stood at his locker in a gray Ospreys T-shirt.
His hair was wet.
He had eight microphones in his face.
"Rhett, the kiss cam in the sixth."
"What were you thinking?"
He shrugged.
"I was thinking she needed a ball."
A few reporters laughed.
"Would you ever do that to someone?"
"Dump her on the board?"
"No."
"I'd never do that to her."
A woman at the pretzel stand turned and looked at me.
Then another one did.
Somebody behind me said, "That's her."
A reporter leaned in.
"So would you ask her out?"
Rhett didn't answer the reporter.
He looked straight into the lens.
"Callie from Row F."
"Dinner Tuesday?"