The man looked directly at him.
“There’s plenty of room on the concourse. He can watch from there.”
Caleb’s fingers tightened around the wheel rims.
The man added, “I doubt he even understands what’s happening on the field anyway.”
His wife smiled.
Caleb hung his head.
“I do,” he breathed. “I wasn’t always like this.”
And that’s when I snapped.
“You need to get out of his seat,” I said.
An usher hurried over.
For one relieved second, I thought that settled it. We had the tickets. He had the uniform. There was nothing left to argue about.
I underestimated how badly the man needed to win.
“Is there a problem here?”
“Yes,” I said. “They’re in our accessible seats and refusing to move.”
The usher looked at our tickets.
Then at the couple.
“Sir, ma’am, I’ll need you to return to your assigned seats.”
