The Seventh Inning Stretch

The baseball stadium lights flickered on as dusk settled over the city, that strange orange glow that makes everything look simultaneously cinematic and exhausted. Sarah sat beside Marcus in the plastic seats, season tickets his father had left them in the will, wondering when exactly they'd become the kind of couple who attended games out of obligation rather than joy.

Marcus checked his phone again. 'Work email,' he muttered, already halfway to becoming one of those corporate zombies who checked Slack at their daughter's piano recital. Sarah had watched the transformation happen gradually over five years of marriage—each promotion leaving him a little more hollowed out, a little more distant, until the man beside her felt like a clever forgery of the one she'd married.

'I'm going to get a beer,' she said, though what she meant was: I need to remember who I am when you're not watching.

She navigated the crowded concourse, past vendors selling overpriced everything, and found herself at a standalone cart near the exit. An older woman with silver hair chopped efficiently, dumping fresh spinach onto a cutting board. 'Health food at a baseball game?' Sarah asked, surprised.

'My daughter's idea,' the woman said, not looking up. 'Said someone needed to offer an alternative to the heart attack options.' She paused, knife hovering. 'You look like you're running from something, honey.'

Sarah laughed, startled by the directness. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Honey, I've been working this cart thirty years. I can spot marriage trouble from three sections away.' The woman scooped spinach into a bowl, handed it over. 'On the house. Sometimes you just need someone to see you.'

Back at her seat, Sarah watched a fox dart across the warning track—an actual fox, tail flashing, pursued by no one, heading toward freedom under the outfield fence. The crowd didn't notice. They were all watching the batter, all pretending this mattered.

Marcus glanced up from his phone. 'Did I miss anything?'

'No,' Sarah said, and for the first time in months, she meant it. 'Just the game.'