He wiped away the moisture from his beer and motioned to her to sit down on the tailgate of his truck. The humidity played tricks with her shirt; sticking to one arm, hanging freely from the other. They sat for a while listening to the loud cicadas calling back and forth from the hydrangeas and the little dogwood tree he had planted. The radio was playing a local baseball game.  She couldn't tell if he was following it or just had it on for something to listen to.
Do you even like baseball, she said grabbing his beer and taking a pull.