And she was a right little bundle of energy but barely 5 foot tall, meaning she was craning her neck up to look at me all the time. I hoped my nostrils were clean!We chatted away over a couple of panini about how annoying people were, found out we were both blood donors, and had a great rapport going. Loads in common. But did it ever take her a while to choose what to eat! Back to our afternoon stint we went, when a friend of hers came up and, looking all apologetic, handed over an envelope, had a few words, and left in a hurry.Francesca looked a bit glum. "I'm not actually local, I was staying with an old friend this weekend, and we were supposed to be going to see Borat tonight at the cinema. She's got a bit of a family problem and has to go to Surrey. In a hurry! I hope things are OK. Um. Are you, er, local then?" Yeah, pretty much".She looked a bit coy for a second. "Seen Borat?"."As it happens, I wanted to see it, yes"."Well, you don't seem like a weirdo. If . It’s not easy,” I shook my head.“I know. Just be patient.”“Is time the only thing holding you back?” I asked. “Am I wasting my time?”“No,” she said softly.“So you like me too?”Jen nodded shyly.“Then do something about it,” I grinned.She slid her hands down my arms and took both of my hands in hers.“I am. I’m trying to figure out what to do about it.”“Seems like an obvious choice,” I grinned.“It’s not,” she said quietly. “But just remember, it’s not you. It’s me.”“OK,” I nodded.We were both reflective for a moment and realized we were still holding both hands.“So, did you bring any of your baseball gear?” Jen asked.“Uh, no. Why?”“You’re a catcher, right?”“Yeah.”“Perfect. I pitch. You catch.”I let the obvious double entendre pass and agreed.Back in the living room, the Bears were down 17-13, much to my dismay.We headed back out to the garage, where Jen grabbed a bucket of softballs and her glove.“Here’s Dad’s mask and mitt.”“No chest protector?”“Dad never uses one,” she smirked.“I.
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