Chapter 44
“No, that’s just not going to work for us,” Sara said, sighing long and loud as she gestured for him to pick up the beach chairs that she’d somehow suckered him into carrying for her along with a cooler filled to the max and a bag of shit that he wasn’t really sure that she was going to need for a kid’s baseball game.
Ignoring his glare, she gestured for him to move the chairs five feet to the right. “That would be great if you put them over there. Thanks,” she said with a smile as she pulled out a one-dollar bill and stuffed it in his pocket with a wink.
“What’s wrong with the bleachers?” he asked, gesturing towards the bleachers to their right and left, the ones that had plenty of space for them and would give them a better view of the field.
“We don’t sit in the bleachers,” Sara said with a sniff as she pushed her designer sunglasses back up on her nose before once again gesturing for him to move the chairs.
“And why’s that?” he asked, moving the chairs over only to force himself not to strangle the woman when she gestured for him to move them back a little to the left.
Before she could answer, he was releasing a small grunt and smiling when the woman that had ditched them to go check on Mikey launched herself onto his back. “Why what?” Kasey asked, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before sliding off his back so that she could stand next to him.
“He wants to know why we don’t sit on the bleachers,” Sara informed her, once again gesturing for him to move the chairs a little more to the left.
Kasey blinked as she looked at the bleachers, where he realized that most of the women were either glaring at her or openly gesturing towards her and laughing, to the section of the field that they were claiming as their very own. “If we sit there then how would we ogle the umpire?” she asked, smiling as she waved to Mikey, who was still sitting on the bench while the rest of the players were warming up on the field.
“Well, that and the bitches on the bleachers would probably have a heart attack if Kasey sat with them,” Sara said, giving up on waiting for him to move the chair and sat down with a sigh as she reached into her bag and grabbed a fashion magazine before turning her attention to the cooler.
“This is true as well,” Kasey said, nodding as she gestured for him to sit down and once he did, she was sitting on his lap and laying her arm around his shoulders as she accepted the small bottle of apple juice that Sara was handing her.
“And why’s that?” he asked even though he already had a pretty good idea.
“Because they’re afraid that Kasey will screw their husbands,” Sara said with a shrug as she returned her attention to her magazine.
“This is true. I am a slut,” she said, nodding solemnly as she took a sip of her juice and watched the kids play as though she didn’t care what half the town was saying about her.
“You really are,” Sara said around a yawn.
“I just can’t seem to help myself,” she said dryly, looking bored as she took a sip of apple juice while he sat there, seriously wondering why she stayed in this town. Then again, she really hadn’t had much of a choice, he thought as he glanced at Mikey to find her smiling hugely as she grabbed her mitt and headed onto the field to join her team.
“You really can’t,” Sara agreed, flipping through her magazine. “Then again, it doesn’t help that they already think that you’ve screwed their husbands and fathers.”
“I have been busy,” Kasey said, nodding as she took another sip.
“You really have.”
“I need to learn how to pace myself,” Kasey said with a sad shake of her head as she handed him the bottle of juice.
“You probably should at this point,” Sara said, tossing her magazine aside so that she could rummage through the cooler.
“I just don’t know if I can control myself,” Kasey said, taking the bottle of juice back so that she could finish it off before she hopped off his lap and headed towards the chain-link fence so that she could cheer on Mikey, leaving him sitting there thinking about just how much he hated this town.
“It’s not true,” Sara said after a minute.
“What’s not true?” he asked absently as he glanced over his shoulder to find the women glaring towards the fence, taking away any doubt that their glares were for Kasey.
“About Kasey sleeping with all of them.”
“Wouldn’t care if it was,” he said, shifting his attention to find Eric sitting on top of the bleachers and watching Kasey.
“Seriously?” she asked, handing him an ice cold Coke.
“She was a kid.”
“This is true,” she mumbled, looking thoughtful as a thought occurred to him.
“Why does she stay?” he couldn’t help but ask as he glanced around for a vender, hoping they had one here because there was no way in hell that he was going to be able to survive this game on an empty stomach.
“She’s stubborn and refuses to allow a bunch of bitches to push her out of her home,” she said, pointing past the bleachers towards a snack shack that promised the best hot dogs outside of Fenway Park.
“Shocking,” he said, making her smile as she tossed her magazine aside.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, getting up and heading towards the concession stand and before he could follow her to find out if those hot dogs were really as good as they claimed, Kasey was back and sitting on his lap.
“So, Yummy,” she said, helping herself to his Coke, “I was wondering about something.”
“And that is?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her so that he could pull her closer.
“Well,” she said, shifting so that she could reach into her back pocket and pull out the bill that he’d handed her this morning, “it’s about this bill, Yummy.”
“What about it?” he asked, taking his Coke back and took a sip, telling himself that she wasn’t on to him.
“Yeah,” she said, shifting on his lap with a little wiggle that had him choking on his Coke, “So, I’ve been thinking about this bill all morning and I can’t help but wonder about a few things.”
“Like what?” he asked only to grunt when the devious woman gave her bottom another wiggle that had him wishing that they were having this conversation somewhere more private.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, glancing off as she took his soda back and took a sip, “Things.”
“Things?” he asked with a grunt and a groan as she did another wiggle.
Nodding, she repeated, “Things.”
“What sort of things?” he asked, shifting his hands to her hips to stop that damn wiggling that was driving him out of his fucking mind.
Instead of answering, she said, “Yeah, funny story,” and something told him that it wasn’t going to be a funny story, at least not for him, “I made a video for my website showing what the living room and kitchen looked like before and what it looks like now and some of the ladies who’ve had their houses remodeled recently couldn’t help but share how much their remodels cost them.”
“I-”
“Yeah, and funny thing, they all paid more than I did, a lot more, and none of them had anything custom made,” she said with a pointed look at him while he sat there, trying to figure out how to respond.
Apparently, she didn’t expect one, because she simply nodded and continued, “Yeah, so that turned into them guessing how much it cost to have my living room and kitchen renovated. They of course decided that my renovation must have cost a great deal more than theirs because of the two rooms and let’s not forget the custom-made built in shelves, the hand carved dining room table and chairs, the restaurant grade appliances, and the kitchen island. The floor they decided added another fifteen thousand dollars to the price tag,” she said, with a pointed look at him as she took another sip.
He opened his mouth, closed it and cleared his throat before he asked, “And how much did they estimate the cost of your renovation?”
“Oh,” she said, pausing to finish off his Coke, “about sixty thousand dollars, but they didn’t add in the cost of the dining room table set since they felt that was separate from the renovation.”
“I see,” he said, as she reached up and petted him on the head with a big smile that scared the hell out of him, “I’m glad that you do, pookie. I’m glad that you do.”
And with that, she was off his lap and heading back towards the chain-link fence to cheer on Mikey while he sat there, deciding that it would probably be for the best if he slept with one eye open tonight.