Henry helped Sarah clear the kitchen table, storing the leftovers in a faded wooden ice chest by the back door. When they finished, he strode over to Albert, an apology in mind. But the old man was fast asleep, a light snore fluttering past his lips.

The newspaper had fallen to the floor beside the recliner. Henry picked it up and noticed the article Albert must have been reading: Six Reasons Why Henry Louis Will Fail the Pioneers! With a heavy sigh, he lowered the paper onto the side table.

Sarah tilted her head, gesturing to the back door. Henry followed her outside.

In the backyard, Sarah looked up at the evening sky, the clouds bathed in a golden glow. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He never used to be like that."

"I suppose it's not easy getting old."

Sarah giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Uncle Albert didn't even give you a chance to ask me out properly."

"No, he didn't."

Sarah didn't say a word for a few heartbeats. Henry opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

"I'd like to ask you out," Sarah blurted. "On a date." Her eyes widened.

Henry's brows shot up. "You're asking me out?" His voice came out a pitch higher, and he cleared his throat. "When?"

Sarah cast a glance at the motorcycle. "Right now."

Ten minutes later, Henry found himself on the back of that motorbike like a perched poodle, hands clamped onto Sarah's waist as she sped around to the front of the house and through the exit.

He wasn't exactly comfortable riding behind Sarah like this. This hadn't occurred to him until they'd veered out onto the main road, but now he could feel his cheeks growing hot. He wondered how incredibly strange it must have looked, a man riding behind a woman on a motorcycle.

Sarah revved the bike and sped up. Rounding a corner, Henry could feel his stomach doing flips, and he tightened his grip on Sarah's waist, hoping he wouldn't fall off. Trees and houses blurred past as the motorbike vibrated beneath him. The wind pounded against his face, whistled past his ears, and all the sights around him fused together, becoming one great streak of color. Sarah shifted gears and the bike accelerated once more. They zoomed past a sign, paint peeling from the edges, with the words:

HESTER PARK (COLORED SIDE)

Sarah slowed the bike and steered it up to the trunk of a large elm tree before turning off the engine. Henry brought his sweat-dampened torso away from Sarah's back and released his hands from her waist.

Sarah removed her tan leather helmet and tossed a smile back over her shoulder. "What'd you think?"

Henry stared at her, eyes bulging. "That was fun."

Sarah suppressed a chuckle. "You should dismount first."

Henry felt like a clumsy oaf as he brought a foot down to the grass and slowly swung his other leg over the top of the motorcycle. Then Sarah gave the kickstand a sharp boot before she stood from the bike. She opened the wicker basket fastened behind the seat and removed a blue sheet that had been folded into a square.

Henry grinned at Sarah and extended his hand. She allowed a slight smile and placed her hand into his. Henry felt a tingle of nerves at the contact. Sarah's palm was calloused, but it felt as warm and comforting as a blanket.

They made their way into the park, passing through the opening in the short wooden fence. Then they drifted towards the rolling fields on the west side of the park. They stopped at the top of a tall hill. Sarah spread the sheet on the soft grass and settled down.

"I used to come here every week to watch the sunset," Sarah said.

Henry inhaled a deep breath, and the lush scent of the verdant grass reminded him of the Pioneers outfield. He took a seat next to Sarah and followed her gaze to the brilliant orange hues of the horizon. "I can see why."

Sarah looked down at her hands, now folded neatly in her lap, and a soft blush crept into the warm brown of her cheeks.

"So, what do you like to do besides fixing up cars and motorcycles?" Henry asked.

Sarah told Henry how she liked to go to the flickers. Her favorite actress was Mary Pickford who was an absolute darling in "A Little Princess" – a story ironically about a white slave. She also rattled off the numerous novels on her bookshelf, her favorite being "The Emerald City of Oz" by L. Frank Baum.

Sarah fell silent, and Henry realized he had been fixated on the beautiful shade of golden brown in her eyes. They both smiled in unison.

Sarah continued. "I also like to write poetry."

"You do?" Henry said, "Well, I'd love to read your poems sometime."

Sarah lowered her gaze. "I don't know. I recited one of my poems at the Diamond Club on Amateur Night. Folks seemed to like it."

Henry smiled. "I bet they did."

Sarah blinked a few times, lips parted. Her cheeks glowed with a faint blush. She looked like she wanted to say more, but the words didn't follow. Then sadness drifted into her expression.

"What's wrong," Henry asked.

Sarah looked up. Even in the twilight, Henry could tell the sparkle had left her eyes.

"At Amateur Night, I had a chance to get picked to write a poetry column for the Hester Gazette. But I really messed up."

Henry felt himself leaning closer to her. "What happened?"

Sarah looked at Henry, her lips parting as if to say something. Then she turned her gaze down. "I got a bit of stage fright at the end."

Henry let out a small sigh. He figured there was more to her story, but he didn't want to press. He took her hand into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Well, I hope you get a second chance. And when you do, I bet you'll do just fine." He swallowed the uncertainty in his throat. A moment later, he said, "You deserve to be happy." He brought his arm around Sarah's shoulders, and she inched closer to him, leaning her head against his chest.

Sarah gazed up. Her face so close to his. "I'm happy now."

Without realizing what he was going to do, Henry planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

As the sun disappeared in the horizon, the vibrant purple and pink glow of the sky faded, absorbed by the approaching darkness. Overhead, the stars twinkled against a sea of dark velvet.

"That sunset sure was pretty," Henry said.

Sarah nodded. "I can't remember the last time I sat and watched the sunset."

"I don't believe I ever have," Henry said. "Baseball's kept me pretty busy for as long as I can remember."

Sarah nodded. "It's the repairs that keep me busy. Uncle Albert is getting up there in years so I do most of the garage work now."

"That's an interesting profession for a woman," Henry said. "Do you ever feel out of place being a mechanic?"

Sarah wrinkled her brow. If he'd said something wrong, she sure didn't let on. Sarah seemed to give the question some thought. "More often than not." Then she met Henry's eyes. "Do you ever feel out of place being the only black player on the Pioneers?"

Henry let out a dry chuckle and then fell silent for moment. "More often than not."

They shared a low, soft laugh together.

Sarah said, her tone serious, "I hate it how whites are always doubting colored folks. They say we're animals and call us stupid. Too dumb to do anything but clean up their messes and take out the trash. They make up these lies to put themselves on a pedestal. But for what reason?" She inhaled a breath. "It's not fair."

Henry sighed. "I have a confession to make."

Sarah stiffened. "Oh?"

"When you said we'd ride your motorcycle, I thought you were joking. I didn't think you could really ride it."

Sarah pulled away. She sat up and looked at Henry. She didn't look mad. Disappointed, yes. "You assumed I couldn't ride a motorcycle because I'm a girl." She shook her head. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Henry felt his heart cave in. Why'd he have to bring that up?

"A minute ago, you said being a mechanic is an odd profession for a woman." Sarah huffed. "Don't you see? It's like those white baseball players and all of the assumptions they make about you."

Henry shook his head, his blood pressure starting to rise. "Actually, I said it was an interesting profession for a woman. And it's not the same."

"Oh, no?" Sarah gave him that better-think-twice look.

Henry stared into those resolute brown eyes. Was doubting that a girl could ride a motorcycle the same as the white players looking at him differently? Hmmm, maybe it was.

"I bet those white players only see the color of your skin. And because they don't look any deeper, they make up phony ideas about who you are and what you're capable of doing. Am I right?"

Henry knew she was right. He also knew he had thrown their date a curve ball. His thoughts swirled around like a tornado, and Henry did the first thing that came to mind and plastered a silly look on his face. "You've been sneaking into my practices, haven't you?"

Sarah had a long laugh that trailed off, and she grew serious again. "No. But I do think we're a lot alike. We're both judged. It's wrong. And we both don't like it one bit."

"You know," Henry said, "you're pretty smart for a mechanic."

Sarah quirked her eyebrows at that.

Henry straightened up, wanting this to come out just right. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I didn't mean to make you feel out of place."

Sarah smiled.

Their gazes met and lingered for a while. The night was quiet save for the whistle of a light breeze and the quartet of chirping crickets.

Finally, Sarah spoke. "You didn't make me feel out of place."

Henry let out the breath he'd been holding. A silent thank you muted the sound of his pulse thrumming behind his ears. "Then how did I make you feel?"

The sparkle returned to Sarah's eyes. "Like we deserve a second date."

Henry didn't say a word. He just grinned.

Momma used to tell him, there're times when you just have to shut up.

And this was one of those times.

Author's Note

Okay, this first date scene was a little different, not being at a restaurant or other public place.

Please let me know your thoughts? Did the scene work?. Was it too mushy? Not mushy enough? Too short? Too long? Less detail? More detail?

We're approaching the 50% mark of the story, the top of the roller coaster as I like to call it. The best is yet to come, for sure.

Upcoming Chapters: "50. The Real Edward" and "51. No More Henry?" Then there are a few other scenes leading up to the first game and that's when things really start to go sideways for Henry.

Again, thanks for the reads, votes, and comments.

Best Regards,

Tom