Sally and Laine sat on the bench; little boys running about trying to kick a soccer ball into a goal without kicking each other's shins.
Laine was watching something other than the boys playing soccer though. Her eyes were riveted to their coach, Peter Ryder.
“Practice should be over with soon,” remarked Sally as she watched her eight-year-old boy tearing back and forth after his fellow peers.
She knew that Laine wasn't paying attention, reaching over a hand to touch her shoulder. “You should just go strike up a conversation with him. He's single. He may be interested in you.”
“Fat chance of that,” Laine said, turning to look at Sally. Sally had the happily ever after she was beginning to doubt wasn't even in her future.
“You shouldn't discredit yourself like that,” said Sally as Peter blew the whistle; the throng of little boys running towards the benches where their things were.
“I have more of a chance of having coffee with Captain Kirk than I do in getting to go out with him,” Laine said.
Sally just rolled her eyes as her son, Mark, ran over, giving him a hug despite him being sweaty. Laine followed her back to the parking lot, and got into her own car.
Coffee with Captain Kirk. Sometimes, Laine thought, she cracked herself up in a sad and pathetic way.
“She says that she has more chance of having coffee with Captain Kirk than she does in going out with Peter,” said Sally to her husband later that night as they cleared the dinner table.
Mark sat in the doorway to the kitchen, racing matchbox cars across the varnished wood. He paused when he heard his mother's conversation, listening.
“She just needs to stop doubting herself,” replied Sally's husband, placing the dishes in the soapy water.
Mark moved to start racing his cars along the floor again, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
The next day Sally sat on the bench as Mark did his soccer practice again. Today she was alone. Peter looked over at Sally, soon jogging over to stand in front of her.
“Mark is doing exceptionally well at practice,” said Peter, noticing Sally absently nodding her head and frowning slightly. It was then that he noticed Laine was missing. "Where's your friend?"
Sally chewed her lip, not wanting to betray Laine's trust. Mark ran over as Peter asked, “Is she okay?”
Mark chuckled and quickly remarked, “She is waiting for Captain Kirk.” Confused, Peter turned to look at Mark as Sally turned a shade of red. “What do you mean?”
“She thinks she has a better chance of having coffee with Captain Kirk than she does in you asking her out.”
Peter's brows furrowed then before a light blush decorated his cheeks. Dormant feelings began to surface within him; connecting themselves to the reason he'd been concerned in the first place.
Meanwhile, Laine was at home, lounging on the couch. The television was on as background noise while she read through a magazine. She couldn't go to Mark's practice today. It was just too hard.
A knock suddenly came at the door. Rising from her seat, she moved to open it. Standing on the steps was a man dressed in a naval uniform.
“Can I help you, sir?” Laine asked, looking him over. She watched him remove the hat from the top of his head, bowing at her.
“Sorry to bother you. My name is Captain Timothy Kirk. I must have the wrong address. This isn't my sister, Martha's, home is it?”
“No, I'm afraid not,” Laine said. “You can come in and use the telephone though, if you want.”
He was handsome and a naval captain. He was not the Captain Kirk she envisioned when she first said her statement, but then again, maybe this was the one she was suppose to spend her life with.
After all, she didn't see Peter knocking down her door anytime soon.
As Laine led Captain Kirk into the kitchen to where the telephone was, he pleasantly talked her ear off. She found herself not minding the thought of going out with him.
Another knock came at her door as she started a pot of coffee for them. Timothy placed his hat down on the table as he moved to pick up the telephone to call.
Laine moved towards the door. Upon opening it, she saw that a man stood there completely decked in a yellow Star Fleet knockoff uniform.
A chuckle bubbled up in her until she saw his face. It was Peter. A blush was decorating his face as he looked back at her.
“Hello, Laine...” Before Peter could get far though, Captain Kirk moved to stand in the entryway, staring at the oddly dressed man at the door.
“Who's he?” asked Peter, looking past Laine's shoulder at the man staring back at him as if he were an alien. Laine knew who he was talking about without turning around.
“That's Captain Kirk.”