heard of it. but I wasn't ready to tell him what it was,
"Baseball cards were first issued during the 1880s when tobacco companies wanted to promote sales. The cards depicted more than a thousand ballplayers from teams in thirteen different leagues and seventy-five cities!"
His enthusiasm brought a wide smile to my face.
"Look at this," he said, flipping to the rear of the first album. "Members of the All American Girls Professional Baseball League from 1943 to 1954. That's Alice 'Lefty' Hohlmayer. She had a record of forty-three scoreless innings in 1948. She once got a base hit off Satchel Paige in an All-Star game. And this is Lavonne 'Pepper' Paire, who led the league in the least strike- outs at bat. Six in 392 times at bat!"
He glanced at me and at the album and then at me again. "You think I'm nuts. huh?"
"No. Trent. I'm amazed and really impressed. You could make a wonderful talk in our history class about baseball history and use these as displays."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. I bet you would get extra credit."
"I could use some extra credit," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Ask Mr. Caswell, I bet it's not too late."
"Maybe I will," he said. nodding. "Thanks." He smiled, "Most of the girls I show this stuff to are looking for ways to make a quick exit before I get to the second page, much less the second album."
"It's a wonderful collection, fascinating," I said sincerely.
He opened some of the other albums to show me the cards he cherished the most and explained why or how he had managed to acquire each.
"My father thinks it's okay that I do this, but he has no idea what it's all worth now. If he did, he would have it up for sale. He's a broker."
"Oh. I wouldn't sell it ever. It's something you'd want your own son to have someday. I'm sure." I said.
"Exactly!" he replied, his eyes full of excitement. He sat back and stared at me a moment.
"What?" I said. smiling.
"Don't get mad at me." he said.
"Why would I?"
"I just thought you were like one of my cards, a valuable find," he said.
"Why would I get mad at that?"
He smirked. "Not too many girls would appreciate being compared to baseball cards. Grace."
"Oh." I laughed and then thought aloud, "It's not what you're being compared to so much as what the person doing the comparison thinks of it, how he values it."
"Smart and beautiful. too. I'm going to kick myself in the head later for taking so long to say hello to you." he said, and leaned forward to kiss me on the lips, a short but soft kiss I saw coming but still :meted with surprise.
He kept his face close to mine, searching my eyes to see how I had reacted, and then he kissed me again. We were in an awkward position, both on chairs, leaning toward each other, but we held on to each other until he tried to get me to my feet and put too much weight on his bad ankle. He groaned in pain, stumbled, and barely caught himself. I reached out and held on to his left arm, helping him get his balance. His face was twisted in agony.
"Sorry," he moaned. "Wow, that was like a shot of electricity, right to my heart, and unfortunately it didn't come from our kiss." he said.
"Get off your feet. Trent."
I helped him back to his bed. He sat and then lowered himself slowly and stared up at the ceiling.
"Are you all right? Do you want something?"
"I'm okay. It's easing up. I wouldn't take the painkillers. I knew you and I were going to study tonight." he said.
"Oh. Well, maybe you should now."
"Yeah. I guess. Let me call for your taxi first." he said, then struggled into a sitting position and lifted the phone receiver, "Maybe you can get me a glass of water in the meantime."
"Of course," I said, and hurried out to the kitchen. It was so long and wide, with beautiful cabinets and granite counters. I found the cabinet with the glasses and filled one with water.
"The cab will be here in ten minutes." he said when I returned. He was lying back on his pillow. I gave him the glass of water, and he took a pill out of the bottle on the nightstand
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