The Summer of Static

The gray hair had been coming in faster since the divorce—or maybe she'd just stopped noticing the little things that used to matter, like the weekly salon appointments that marked time like clockwork. At forty-two, Elena sat on her balcony with a glass of wine, watching her neighbor's orange cat prowl along the railing like it owned the building, which in a way, it did.

Her iPhone lay face down on the table, screen cracked from where she'd dropped it during last month's fight with Mark. He'd wanted the cat. She'd wanted to keep the apartment. In the end, she got the cat visitation rights and the cracked phone, while he got the baseball tickets he'd been hoarding since they started dating.

"You're not even a real fan," he'd screamed, throwing the jersey she'd bought him for his thirtieth birthday onto the lawn.

Tonight was opening day. She could hear the crowd roaring from the stadium three blocks away, that collective exhale of hope and disappointment that baseball season always brought. Her father had loved baseball—those Sunday afternoons when she was eight, sitting on the couch with him, learning to keep score. He'd been dead five years now. Mark had never understood what those afternoons meant.

The orange cat jumped onto her table, nearly knocking over the wine. Elena scratched behind its ears, feeling the rumble of its purr against her fingertips. Some things were simple. Cats either liked you or they didn't. Men pretended to be one thing then became another entirely.

Her phone buzzed—an unknown number. Probably another telemarketer, or maybe Mark, calling from a burner to tell her he'd found someone who actually appreciated the sport. She let it ring, watching the stadium lights flicker on in the distance, thinking about how many summers she'd spent waiting for something to happen, for life to begin again, while the years kept piling up like innings in a game that wouldn't end.

The cat settled onto her lap, and Elena finished her wine. Somewhere out there, Mark was probably cheering, surrounded by people who loved baseball. She didn't care. She had this moment, this balcony, this creature who'd chosen her. Tomorrow she'd get a new phone. Tomorrow she'd figure out what came next. Tonight, she just listened to the crowd roar like the ocean, wild and distant and alive.