Scoring the one, p.2
Scoring the One, page 2
“Can I open my eyes?” I ask.
“I guess,” she replies. I grin as she starts applying something to my lips. Fuck, does lipstick stain?
I open my eyes to look at my phone but instead I see Hattie’s face in front of mine. I frown.
“Hats, what are you eating?” I ask as I reach for the bag on the floor.
“Bridget gave me her snack,” she says. I look at the contents of the bag and panic sets in immediately. There are nuts in here and Hattie is allergic.
“Hats, there are nuts in here,” I say as I look at her and see the telltale start of hives on her face.
“No. Those are not peanuts,” she states as she steps back and looks into the bag.
“No, but, sweetie, look. Can you read that?” I ask as I point to the wording that says these nuts are packaged in a facility with other types of nuts, which means they likely have peanuts in and around them.
“But they aren’t peanuts,” she says as her eyes begin to fill with tears. Fucking hell. I look up and see the EpiPen on her dresser. I grab it.
“NO!” she yells because she hates this.
“Baby, I have to and then we have to go to the hospital, OK?”
She starts to run from me, and I grab her and sit us both on the floor. She squirms to get away but I’m bigger and stronger and her attempt is futile. “I’ll tell you what. We can get ice cream afterward, alright?”
She stops squirming. “But…it’ll hurt.”
“Just for a second and then it’ll be all better.”
“But they will give me a shot!” she cries.
I sigh. I hate this and I hate seeing her like this. It’s the worst. She had a bad reaction a year ago and got diagnosed a few days later. She’s had one other reaction about four months ago. Poor kiddo. I hope she’ll get better over time with the treatments they are doing, but I can’t blame her for being upset. This is no fun.
I kiss the top of her head. “You can do me next,” I say as I remember we have one more practice one here. I reach up and grab the sealed box that my sister left on the dresser. I shake my head. She shouldn’t have left it here. It’s supposed to be in the kitchen in a cabinet. I sigh and try to remember Stephanie is doing the best she can. I’ve had a front-row seat as to how hard single parenting can be.
I grab the device and inject it into her leg. She cries but doesn’t move. Afterward, I let her give me the practice one.
“OK, baby girl, let’s go,” I say as I pick her up and carry her to the car. I could call an ambulance, but now that we’ve had this happen a couple of times, I know the process and it’s faster just to get her to the pediatric emergency room.
I pick her up and she wraps her arms around me. She’s a little shaky which is normal. I get her in the car and send a quick text to Stephanie before barreling down the street. A woman who is jogging isn’t paying attention and I nearly collide with her. I honk the horn and she jumps out of the way. I can’t really see her as she turns to stare at me, but she looks familiar. Maybe she’s one of Kent’s friends? I don’t have much time to consider that as I drive us the twenty minutes to the hospital.
I park outside the emergency room and carry Hattie inside. I check us in, and we get rushed back right away. I was here for her second anaphylactic reaction, so I know the drill. I get funny looks from the lady at the check-in counter and the tech who gets us back to the room. We’re all settled in a room when the nurse comes in and freezes when she sees me.
“Uh, sweetheart, you…have some stuff on your face. I’m just gonna check Hattie’s breathing real quick if you want to go use the bathroom. It’s around the corner,” she says, giving me a look.
It’s at this exact moment that I realize why everyone is staring at me. Makeup. I am wearing fucking makeup. I nod and practically sprint into the bathroom. I look at my reflection in the mirror…well, I think it’s my reflection. I look like a damn clown, literally. I have unnaturally red cheeks, blue and purple eyeshadow, some sort of brown and cream coloring on my forehead and my lips look like I’m ready to make balloon animals in a park. I start washing my face, but the red isn’t coming off my lips. Damn it!
I don’t have time to worry about this now. I manage to get the rest of my clown makeup off and I hurry back to my niece’s room. Stephanie is there when I return.
She looks up from the seat next to Hattie’s hospital bed.
“Uh…oops,” she manages. She quickly looks back at Hattie who is contently playing with a small toy horse that was probably in Stephanie’s bag. I swear that bag holds an entire pharmacy, bank, toy store, and office supply closet.
“What does oops mean?” I grumble.
“I think that’s my red lip stain,” she says with a sheepish look.
“Of course it is,” I reply with a deadpan stare as I take the seat next to her.
“You look pretty,” Hattie says before she frowns. “What happened? You washed it off!”
“Sorry, Hats, I can’t wear makeup to practice,” I explain, which is a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that I took it off to avoid total and complete torment from my teammates.
“Oh. Like school?” she asks. Stephanie told her that school doesn’t allow it until seventh grade. For now, that white lie seems to work.
“Yep, just like school,” Stephanie replies.
“Are you good with her? Or should I stay?” I ask as I look at my watch.
“We’re good. Aren’t we, kiddo?” she assures me as she squeezes Hattie’s arm.
“Bye, Unca B,” Hattie says as she gives me a half-hearted smile. It’s hard to be mad at her when she’s like this. I lean over and kiss her forehead.
“I’ll see you later, Hats,” I say as I leave. I glance back at the door and see Stephanie leaning on the rail of the bed whispering something to Hattie who has grabbed Stephanie’s phone to play a game. Maybe I’m too hard on my sister. But as I get in my car and glance at my red lips, I decide, no, I am not. I am never going to hear the end of this from my teammates. Kent’s daughters haven’t stained his lips yet, so the teasing is definitely going to happen. Sighing, I pull onto the interstate and head to practice. No wonder that woman was staring at me this morning. It’s not every day a clown nearly runs you over.
Chapter Three
BAILEY
“He’s a total dick! He almost killed me! And that’s not even the weirdest part!” I screech way too loud because I’m on my third beer of the night.
It’s Saturday and that means I’m at the Moores’ house. Mr. and Mrs. Moore host a standing buffet-style dinner every Saturday night. For our small town, it has become a thing. I don’t know many people who haven’t been here at least once over the years, whether it was for a special occasion dinner for a birthday or graduation, or just a normal weekend. I don’t come all the time, but a few times a year, I manage to make it over here. I’m sitting in the gazebo because it’s raining. My three closest friends and Di’s sister, Kylie, are all around the table. We’re the only ones who braved the crappy weather and came out here to eat.
“I’m sure he just didn’t see you,” Di assures me. “Bishop is really nice. I can’t believe you two haven’t spoken before. Seriously, it’s weird.”
“I’ve only spoken with Bishop a few times. It’s not that weird,” Kylie argues as she takes a bite of her grandmother’s famous potato salad.
“It’s just…I mean, I know him,” Di says.
“Yes, but he’s your brother’s friend,” I point out as I steal a bite of the salad off Kylie’s plate. We had just sat down to eat when I blurted out my run-in with Bishop.
“So, what was so weird besides almost getting hit by a car driven by a guy who’s friends with Kent?” Sydney asks. Sydney Lawrence, Finley Jacobson, and Diana Moore have been my best friends since we were little. We all met on our first day of kindergarten and have been inseparable ever since then. Sydney works at a local doctor’s office where she’s the nurse. She’s the sweet one that has the biggest naughty streak of any of us. And because of her demeanor, she gets away with murder.
Fin is the artsy, free-spirit one, but she’s also a totally Zen person who loves meditation and yoga. She moved to Paris for a year after college, but then ran out of money and ended up back here in Banneker.
Di is an identical twin, who couldn’t be more different from her sister, Lanie. She loves teaching, romance, and all things happily ever after. She has the world’s most perfect family which includes her four siblings. We all loved coming over here as kids and we still love it.
And then there’s me. To the outside world, I’m the speak-the-truth extrovert, who loves teaching little ones because of their curiosity.
When we were little girls, we all had this obsession with getting married. Mostly this was driven by Di’s fascination with “happily ever after” princess cartoons. By sixth grade, we had made a club, The Future Brides of Banneker. We planned our weddings and our adult lives. We outgrew the phase, but once in a while we still have a good laugh at how innocent our little minds had been. Di is the only one of the four of us who actually did get her happily ever after. She lives in an old Victorian house that her husband, Garrett, has been restoring. Garrett also teaches with us. They have a little boy named Tristan and they are the perfect family. I’m not jealous at all. Fine, a little jealous, but I am happy for my friend.
I’m the only one of the four of us whose family is originally from Banneker. I’m the fourth generation to live here. My parents have lived in Banneker their whole lives. They took over my grandparents’ small farm when I was about two and ran it together until my dad had a heart attack and died my freshman year of college. My mom grows lavender and keeps a few animals. My mom is much older than my friends’ parents and suffers from rheumatoid arthritis.
Recently, my brother and I talked her into permanently selling the farm to my cousin. My brother, Colter, works in New York City. He got out of here as soon as he could. He’s an executive of a big marketing firm. He does ad campaigns for famous companies. And once a year, he comes home to grace us with his presence. I get a text from him every few weeks and he has helped me figure out a good retirement community for our mother.
Di’s fingers snap in front of my face, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Hello?” she says.
“Sorry, he was dressed like a clown. I mean, his face was painted like a clown,” I correct myself.
“What?” Di asks. Fin giggles and Syd’s eyes get big.
“He had on all this crazy makeup and giant red lips. I don’t know what he was doing, but he was so rude about it. Like it was my fault he was going twice the speed limit down a side street. Anyhow, as I told Fin the other day, I’m over my crush on him,” I announce.
“What do you mean crush? I thought you were joking around that one time you said you, and I quote, ‘needed a piece of that,’” Di asks, her fork pausing midway to her mouth.
“I…well, yeah, I guess it was a real crush. I mean, I’d seen him once or twice before and he was really cute and then I saw him at the Halloween party at Kent’s house last year, and…well, I had a crush on him, but now I definitely don’t. He’s an ass,” I explain, and I tell them about the coffee shop incident.
“So, you’ve had a crush on my brother’s friend for over a year and you didn’t say anything beyond that one comment? Like we were supposed to figure this out?” Di asks. I can tell she’s a mixture of shocked and hurt because we all share everything. And normally, I’m loud and not afraid to say anything.
“Some of us figured it out,” Fin mutters under her breath as she takes a large swig of her drink. Di glares at her.
“I know. It’s not like me. But I just…I don’t know. I clam up around him. That’s why I never went up and introduced myself. Like I said, he’s hot AF.”
“Wow. That is totally un-Bailey-like,” Syd states.
“No. It tracks,” Fin says. “Remember when she had a crush on Allan Batten junior year?”
“Oh, yeah. And she didn’t tell us until senior week,” Di recollects.
“I…whatever, it’s stupid, but I thought he was sexy and intriguing,” I admit as I feel my face flush.
“Who’s sexy and intriguing?” Kent’s voice rings out from the deck.
My face goes from pink to red.
“Just some guy on a show Bai was watching,” Di replies, saving me from total mortification.
He opens the gazebo door and steps inside. “Geez, am I interrupting a brides’ meeting?” he says with a laugh, referencing our weekly meetings in the Moores’ tree house when we were kids.
“Fuck off, KJ,” Di says as she gives her brother the stink eye.
“Oh, come on. I’m just kidding. How are you all?” Kent asks as he slides onto the lounge chair.
“Same old, same old,” Fin says.
“Another day in paradise,” I mutter.
He laughs. “You ladies should come to our pool party. Tabby is throwing a party in two weeks. She wants to christen our new deck furniture.”
Sydney and Fin burst out laughing, and Di rolls her eyes.
“I mean, we have christened it, but…” he tries to save the conversation, but there’s no going back now.
“Ew! No one wants to come over now,” Di grumbles.
Kent laughs. “They want to come over,” he says as he winks at us, “because Ward will be there…in a ridiculously small speedo.”
“Sold!” Fin and Syd say in unison.
Kent looks toward me with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, fine. I mean, how can I say no to that?” I mumble.
He chuckles. “Mission accomplished, then. I’ll let Tabby know. Later, ladies,” he adds as he gets up and heads back into the house.
Syd looks after Kent and sighs. “How do you do it, Di?” she asks.
Di gives her a quizzical look. “Do what?”
“Constantly stay surrounded by hot men. I mean, Kent is hot, but in an annoying-little-brother type of way, but his friends and teammates are…well, I’ll never understand how you and your sisters didn’t marry one of them,” she explains as she looks past Di into the house where Kent is talking to one of his friends.
“Syd, we’ve had this conversation like a million times. First, those are my little brother’s friends, so…no. And two, I’m not into…sports guys,” she adds with a wink.
We all bust out laughing. Garrett isn’t unathletic. He loves hiking and kayaking, but he’s not a jock. She’s lucky to have found her perfect match.
“Oh, did I mention I’m coaching T-ball this summer? One of my students asked me if I’d coach his team,” I say, changing the subject because diving into my love life is not something I’m ready to do, even with my closest friends.
“Great. You know nothing about T-ball. That’ll go well. And since when do five-year-olds hire their own coaches? And don’t change the subject. We need to discuss this crush,” Di says as she grabs a cookie from the platter her mom brought out a few minutes ago.
I groan. “There’s nothing to discuss. I had a crush. I swear I mentioned it. And then I found out he’s a jerk who dresses like a clown, literally. So, over it, moving on, capiche?”
Fin, Syd, and Di all look at each other and laugh. “That does not sound like you are over your crush. That sounds like a hate crush,” Fin states.
“A hate crush? That’s not even a thing,” I huff.
“It is. You still like him, even though you think he’s a jerk. Somehow, that makes him even more interesting to you.”
“OK, now I’m just offended,” I say as I pick at Kylie’s potato salad. “Why would I be interested in a guy who is a total asshole?”
“Because he’s a fixer-upper,” Syd says without missing a beat.
Di and Fin burst into a song from Frozen about fixing up the person you like. I sigh and flick them off. “I don’t want a fixer-upper,” I mutter.
“Sure you do,” Fin says.
“Brad, Kevin, Carlos,” Di starts.
“Quentin, Sam,” Fin adds.
“Oh, and don’t forget about Marcus,” Syd interjects.
I place my head on the cool surface of the table and groan again. I’ve only had a few long-term relationships, but I have had a lot of first dates with guys, followed by like two or three more dates until I realize they are not relationship material.
Kylie pats my back. “No offense, Bailey, but even I know you have a history of fixer-upper guys.”
I groan more loudly, and they all laugh. I lift my head and sigh before plowing more potato salad into my mouth.
“I swear, Bishop is really nice,” Di insists. “I don’t know what you saw, but I promise, he’s a good guy. I still can’t believe you haven’t officially met him.”
I look into the Moore house. It’s packed with about three dozen people. Token about half of them are Moore family members, but still, it’s easy not to talk to everyone at their parties and gatherings. There are just so many people.
I shrug. “Well, I haven’t.”
“He’ll be at the party at Kent’s house,” she says.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“Just a wild guess based on the fact that he’s house shopping here with my mom and he just bought a place for his sister and niece over by Lanie’s house. Call it intuition, but I’d be shocked if he isn’t there. Besides, it’s a rare weekend when they don’t have a game on Saturday, so you know the guys are going to try to have a little fun.”
“Great, just what I need, a guy who is a jerk and wants to have a little fun,” I mutter as I look at Di.
She shrugs. “You do you. I’m just saying. He’s nice.”
“Don’t want to know. Moving on,” I say as I clench my jaw.
She puts her hands up in surrender. “OK, fine. Let’s discuss the girls’ weekend we’ve been planning.”
