When Hope asked what movie Scott wanted to watch for date night, he immediately answered The Sandlot. Hope had not heard of the film, but the title did not lend itself to anything romantic to her estimation.

"The film has lasting cultural significance. It's a historical dramedy," Scott opined.

"There are kids with baseball equipment on the cover, Scott," Hope argued. "Not romantic."

"I need you to trust me, Hope," Scott continued. "It's the feel good movie of...all time."

He said it with such conviction, an innocent smile curling at the edge of his lips.

"You are killing me, Smalls!" she chided.

Scott's eyebrows shot up at the unexpected use of the phrase. He had not thought that Hope used such informal language. He was pleased to hear it, but it was, none the less weird coming from her still somewhat rigid personality. He and Cassie must be rubbing off on her.

"And, there it is," Scott replied, enigmatically.

"There what is?" she demanded, confused.

"The cultural significance of the film," he replied, directly.

Leveling him with her specific version of the evil eye, he knew he better get to the point.

"Have you ever wondered how that little gem of a phrase entered the American consciousness?"

The look transitioned from stink eye to a mildly frustrated incredulity.

"No, Scott. In fact, this may have been the first time I've ever used it," she said. "Hanging around here is definitely opening my eyes to things I've never allowed myself to consider."

Scott grinned, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "You're making my point for me. Thought it's not a date movie, depending on who you ask, it is a 'feel good' movie, and I think you will enjoy it. Will you trust me? Not mention you will now be able to see and know from whence came the famous line: 'You're killing me, Smalls!"

"And, you are definitely doing that," she retorted, shaking her head at her losing battle against boyhood. But, perhaps, it wouldn't be that bad. Perhaps, it was another opportunity to relax and enjoy without judgement.

The more time she spent with Scott and Cassie, the more she realized the walls she built were not just to protect her from the grief of her mother's loss and the pain of her father's disappearance into his work. They had been built also to protect her from the world.

Such protection and morphed into bitterness and distrust; each of which had been well earned. However, the world was offering her an olive branch and she would be a fool not to try and reengage her father and mother as well as the man who had so deftly cut through her defenses.

He had not simply cut through them, he had ignored them altogether. He would not be intimidated, though he had no obvious strength or skill from which to draw. It was this confidence mixed with humor and a childlike recklessness and wonder that drew her to him; that made her want have some of that herself. And, so, in light of that self-awareness, she would watch The Sandlot. And, she would try her best to enjoy it.

"Are we a go?" Scott said, seemingly recognizing her reverie.

Her annoyance bled away, replaced by a welcoming smile. "We are a go. This better be good."