"It's wet out there." Casey turned away from the office window, which was covered by sheets of water.
Danny paused as he hung up his soggy rain coat. "It is indeed wet out there."
"And yet you were out in the wet."
"I was."
"Without an umbrella."
"I had an umbrella."
"Then why are you dripping all over the carpet?"
"I'm dripping all over the carpet because I am wet."
"And there is no umbrella dripping along with you."
"Note that I said I *had* an umbrella. The tense is past because the umbrella is past." Danny took off his sweater, which was mostly dry, and rubbed his hair with it.
"You could have purchased another one. They sell disposables everywhere."
"I could have. However, the umbrella became past a mere two blocks from the building. I will purchase another when I leave tonight, provided it is still wet." He sat down in his chair and opened up his computer, trying not to shiver in the slightly chill air.
"Why were you out in the wet?"
"I had an appointment."
"An appointment?"
"Yes."
"I wasn't aware you had an appointment tonight."
"That would probably be because you aren't my secretary."
"You see Abby on Tuesdays. Today is Thursday. You saw your dentist two weeks ago and you got a clean bill of health and compliments on the state of your gums. Your next physical is in three months. It's nowhere near tax time, and no one is currently suing you."
"I stand corrected. *You* are my secretary."
"So where were my flowers on Secretary's day?"
"You want flowers?"
"We all want flowers. Where were you?"
"I had an appointment." Danny turned back to his half-written script.
Casey walked to the table and stood over him. "What appointment?"
"I was with Abby."
"You see Abby Tuesdays."
"I do."
"Today isn't Tuesday."
"No. Today is Thursday."
"If you see Abby Tuesdays and today is Thursday, why did you see Abby today?"
"I see her on Thursdays, too, if you must know."
"Since when?" Casey's voice was worried.
"Since...since last week. Since we resolved the whole buy out thing and I broke up with Rebecca for good and you said I could manage without you." Danny couldn't look at him.
He heard Casey move by his desk, shuffle papers, click keys slowly. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why...more?"
"She thinks I need it. She thinks...she thinks I have to face things."
"Things?"
"You."
"Me?"
"You. I need to face you." Each word felt like fire coming out. Coming out. That was a laugh.
"Face me? You won't look at me, but you have to face me."
"Yeah. I have to face you. And me. And jealousy."
"Jealousy?"
"Jealousy? What are you jealous about?" Jeremy popped in, carrying a clear plastic clip board.
"That you have that cool Lucite clipboard." Danny found that if he looked at Jeremy, he wouldn't have to look at Casey.
"$12.99 on sale at Staples. Also comes in cool iMacs colors. I'll pick one up for you. You'll have to pay me back, though."
"They come in blueberry?"
"They come in blueberry."
Casey cleared his throat. "And why are you here, Jeremy?"
"Because there are no baseball scores."
"Why aren't there baseball scores?"
"Because there are no baseball games."
"Does this happen to do with the fact that it is wet?" Danny ran his finger through his still damp hair.
"As a matter of fact, it does. It is not just raining in New York, thus causing the Mets and the Yankees, not to mention their opponents, to not play. It is raining up and down the East Coast and towards the Midwest. Therefore, there are no baseball games playing now."
Danny nodded. "And therefore no scores."
"Correct."
"Will there be baseball? Or is this of truly biblical proportions, such that there will be no baseball even in the West, and all baseball players will be loaded two by two, American and National Leagues, in an ark, to wait for the waters to cease?"
"There will be baseball. I don't know if there will be scores by show time, but there will be baseball."
"But there is no baseball now. Just so we're clear."
"You have it, Casey."
"Rundown at normal time?"
"See you then. I'll get your clipboard tomorrow, Dan."
"Looking forward to it, Jeremy." Jeremy waved on his way out. Casey jumped up and closed the door behind him.
"Danny. Jealous of me?"
"What are we going to write about? It's August. The only real sport in August is baseball. We'll be weathermen tonight."
"Jeremy said there would be baseball. There will be baseball. And there are pennant races and rivalries. We will not have to do the weather tonight. Jealousy?"
Danny forced himself to look at Casey. "Jealousy." He could feel his stomach knotting. Abby said it would be better to say this, but he couldn't think of a way it could be.
"Of what? You know those polls and lists are meaningless."
"I know."
"You know that 92 is a meaningless number."
"I know."
"And people do know who you are."
"I know."
"Then..."
"I'm not jealous of that. Not much, anyway. And I made no secret of how I did feel. You know that."
"I do. So what..."
Danny closed his eyes. "It's Sally."
"You wanted Sally? You hate Sally."
"I do indeed hate Sally. It's also Lisa."
"You wanted Lisa? You hate Lisa more than you hate Sally."
"I never wanted Lisa. I never wanted Sally either, any more than I wanted Dana."
"But you're jealous of them. If you never wanted them, then..." Casey's eyes went wide.
Danny could feel the earth fall from beneath his feet. He was in free fall, and he was going to be falling forever because he couldn't do it without Casey and Casey was going to go away. Why did Abby want him to do that?
He forced himself to his feet, surprised the floor was still there, and walked to the window to watch the water sheeting down and to wonder if he could drown in it. Would it be like free fall? It couldn't be worse.
"Danny...I'm sorry." Casey was there, right there behind him. Close behind him.
"It's okay. I'm not going to ask you to do anything...anything you can't do. Maybe that job on the West Coast is still available?"
"You don't understand."
"I do understand."
"No, you don't. I'm not apologizing because I can't."
Danny turned to look at him, at his beautiful, open face. "Then why...?"
"I'm apologizing because I...didn't see. Because I didn't know." He put a hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny shivered.
"I didn't want to know myself."
"But now you do."
"Yes. Now I do. And now you do."
"And...now what?"
"It's up to you."
"Up to me?"
"Yes. Because...I didn't know before but I know now. About me. And I don't know what to do."
"Neither do I. I'm scared." Danny turned back to the window.
Casey turned with him, not letting go of his shoulder. "I'm scared, too. But it's going to be all right. Just...show me how to make you happy, Danny."
"How to make me happy?"
"Yes. That's all I need to know."
"Just be here right now. And don't go away."
"I'm not going anywhere." Casey leaned closer to Danny. "Can I kiss you?"
"You want to kiss me?"
"I've...always wanted to kiss you."
"Please kiss me."
Casey's lips were warm, and rough and gentle like a summer rainstorm. Danny let himself drown.
Copyright 2000 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates