It is not a rare occurrence to see Mindy Lahiri running through the halls of the Castellano household, nor is it peculiar to spot Danny Castellano walking through the front door of the Lahiri home. The routine is the same: Danny waiting for her by her locker after their last class, them taking the bus home together, often ending up somewhere between their two houses. Sometimes it's her room (door open of course- Mr. Lahiri is very adamant about that. Danny respects it.); and other times it's his living room, plopped in front of a television that hardly ever seems to be working no matter how many times they adjust the antenna.
To find them, one can usually just follow the trail of items they leave on the way to their prospective destinations: deserted, half unzipped backpacks; jackets thrown haphazardly over the backs of chairs; crumbs on empty plates that once housed sandwiches (crustless for Mindy, crunchy peanut butter for Danny). On this particular day, the path continues through the Castellano kitchen- past a young Richie with crayons and coloring sheets at the kitchen table and Maria Castellano folding laundry- out through the back door and down the stairs to the yard. There, Danny Castellano is teaching Mindy Lahiri how to hit a baseball.
"Bend your knees, Mindy."
"They are bent."
"No, bend 'em like... like you're about to sit in a chair."
"Danny, my knees are bent. If I bend them any more I'm gonna be sitting on the ground."
Danny sighs, moving from his position by the stairs and trotting up to her. "Bend your knees like this," he says, bending his own as a demonstration. Mindy rolls her eyes. "I'm doing that," she replies, lowering the rugged Louisville slugger she has housed between her palms. "Ugh. Why don't you just do it for me?"
"Because you have to do it by yourself."
"Why?" she whines.
"So we can play baseball together. Get outside and get some fresh air."
She snickers at this. "You sound like an old man. Heh. Old Man Castellano."
It's his turn to roll his eyes. "Look, as much as I like hanging out with you, I don't wanna spend every day up in your room talking about how dreamy Rob Lowe is," he says as he walks back to the stairs.
When he turns to sit, he sees Mindy just standing there, staring at him.
"What?" he asks. "Do I have something on my face?" He wipes aimlessly across his cheek.
A soft smile is playing across her face and it throws him for just a moment.
"I like hanging out with you too," she says simply.
Then she's looking at him with a look he often catches gracing her face- that hopeful one. He's seen it a buncha times, like when he saves her a spot during lunchtime or when he's sliding her a pencil in math class because she always forgets to bring one, having brought sparkly pens instead.
A warmth spreads across his chest.
He clears his throat.
"Alright, alright," he shrugs, "don't go getting all sappy on me, Lahiri."
She smirks, lifting the bat back up in her hands and bending her knees just like he taught her. He chuckles.
"That's it," he encourages from his spot on the stairs. "Now all you gotta do is hit the ball."
"Okay," she chirps, tightening her grip on the bat.
"And don't close your eyes this time, okay?"
"Ugh, I'm not going to close my eyes, Danny."
He picks up his glove and slides it on, spinning the ball around in the cracked palm before rearing back and throwing it towards Mindy.
And she definitely doesn't close her eyes when the ball connects, splitting through air at high speed.
In fact, they're the opposite of closed when it smashes through his kitchen window, shattering glass everywhere.
His mother's shrill voice is immediate. "Daniel Antony Castellano!That's the third window this month!"
He looks to Mindy, who's standing in the middle of the yard, bat discarded, mouth agape and eyes wide. He's shocked too, but also he's really happy. "Hey, at least you hit it this time!" he laughs, looking back towards the window.
It'll be years later when he's sitting down to dinner with Mindy and their two sons that he tells his Ma that it was actually his wife who sent the baseball flying into the kitchen.