Rained Out (Kris Bryant)

6

The day went on and we played board games and talked, but when the clock struck four Margret and I headed into the kitchen to cook some supper.

The storm was still going strong, and it showed barely any signs of slowing down. I was thankful that I had these guys for opening their doors, so I didn't have to be stuck in my car all day. I couldn't imagine having to do that.

"What do you need help with?" I asked eagerly. "I don't cook, but I'm willing to help."

She gave me a look over with a smile on her face. "Can I trust you with a peeler?"

"No, but I'll still do it."

She gave me a very skeptic look before she brought her hand with the peeler in it over to me, but before I could grab them. "So when you cut your hand, you or your team can not sue me or my family because it's your choice to do this." I nodded and reached over to grab the peeler, but she pulled them away from my prying fingers. "Promise me, Kris!" her voice was forceful, and it kind of scared me.

"I promise, no suing by me or the Cubs will be done to you. Now, can I please have those peelers?" She handed them over, still reluctantly.

"Please no blood in the potatoes," she said picking up the bag of potatoes and set them in front of me. I grabbed the first one and started peeling very, very slowly. Trying not to cut myself.

From where I was standing, I watched Margret as she was doing... I don't know. She was fiddling with few hundred of different things, but she finished everything that she wanted to get down before I was done with my forth potatoes. I saw her give me a smile and rolled her eyes, grabbing a small knife and began peeling the potatoes.

I gave up at that minute since I was just watching Margret almost cut her thumb off. It was quite amusing trying to figure out if she was or wasn't going to draw blood from her hacking at the potatoes.

After Margret and I got all the food on the stove, we sat at the table. "Thank you for your help, even though you didn't do that much," she said smiling at me with a wide smile. I knew that she was messing with me, but I wasn't mad at all. Actually, I found it funny.

"No problem." I tipped my fake cap to her.

"But you probably keep your day job. Culinary arts are defiantly not in your future." We both laughed at that.

"Well, there goes my after baseball career, but I guess you are just trying to save me."

"Don't worry, your cooking skills is equal to my baseball skills. Jeff always wants me to go and play with him, but I think that it's more for him to make fun out of me. I still help out, though, even if he laughs at me. Thanks by the way for going down there with him. I know that he loved that."

I flashed a smile to her, "Really, it's no problem. I enjoyed every minute of it. I was thinking, if there was a possibility for you and your family to come to Chicago."

"And what will we do there?" she asked me thinking.

"Well, you guys can watch couple of my home games, and if things line up, I can bring you guys to a White Sox and Tiger game. It'll be my payback for all of this kind generosity that you have shown me today," I explained leaning back in my chair.

"Well, I don't know."

"Can I at least give you my number so we can talk about this? You don't have to bring them out, but I would love to have you guys out there to give back for today."

She sat there unsure. The room was silent before Margret drew in a breath before she said, "Oh alright, but at this moment that's all I'm giving you, the possibility, not the guarantee." She passed me a pad of paper and a pen that was laying on the table.

"That's all I need," I said before I scribbled my number down.