“Let’s head to the park,” Alex says, then pulls out a tennis ball from the front closet. Paco seems way too excited to play.
Brittany puts a hand to her forehead. “He’s been looking forward to this all week. I don’t think there’s any stopping him.” She points to Alex. “I’m talking about my husband, not my son.”
“I get a handicap because of my leg!” Carlos yells out, then yelps some kind of war cry he probably learned in the army but sounds ridiculous echoing through our house. If Reyes heard, he’ll probably kick our front door down with his gun blazing thinking we’re getting robbed.
“You’re not gettin’ a handicap,” Alex tells him. “Your arm isn’t damaged.”
“I agree,” I add.
“Man, you guys are brutal,” Carlos says, although he knows full well that if either me or Alex had any injuries he wouldn’t be giving us a handicap.
Nikki halts. “All right, I think Panty Discus needs to be explained. It sounds like a slam on women, to be honest.” She puts her hands on her hips, and all I can think about is seeing those hips without any clothes covering them.
“It’s not a slam on women,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one day it became an Olympic sport.”
She laughs. “I don’t think so.”
We all head over to a huge, empty grassy area by the park.
“We’re playin’ in teams,” Alex says. “Couples against couples.”
“I’m not playing something that’s named Panty Discus,” Brittany exclaims. “I know you explained what it meant, but it still sounds dirty.” She earmuffs Paco. “And I really don’t want Paco saying it.”
Carlos rolls his eyes. “Brit, get that stick out of your rich ass, please, and suck it up. You’re playin’. And when my nephew is old enough, he’ll not only be sayin’ it, he’ll be playin’ it, too. It’s a Fuentes tradition.”
Brittany’s mouth is open in shock. “Carlos, if I’m concerned about my son hearing Panty Discus,” she says, whispering the offending words, “do you really think I want him to hear cuss words flying out of your mouth?”
“Can I at least spell them?” Carlos asks. I don’t think he’s kidding.
Alex gets in the middle of them. “That’s fine. Brit, if you don’t want to play, you don’t have to. Paco can fill in for you, although to be honest, it’ll probably kill my winnin’ streak.”
Brittany walks up to Alex and points her finger to his chest. “I’ll do it, but only because I’m your wife and I love you.”
Kiara watches Alex and Brittany with a longing gaze, then stares at my oblivious brother Carlos. Nikki was just joking with her back at the house, but I’ve got the feeling Kiara’s been waiting for a ring from my brother. I don’t know why he’s been dragging his feet, because we all know it’s gonna happen.
“I’m game,” Kiara says with a sigh.
I look at Nikki. I can’t wait to get this over with so I can be alone with her.
“How about you, Nik?” I ask.
“I’m game, too,” she says, giving me look that gets my heart racing. “Just tell me what to do.”
“What does the winner get?” Brittany asks.
“Braggin’ rights,” Carlos explains. “Which in this family is worth more than money.” He turns to Kiara. “We better win, mamacita.”
Alex sets up a stick as the starting line and shows everyone the homemade Panty Discus contraption—which is just a leg cut off of a pair of women’s panty hose with a ball stuck in the toe end and a knot in the other end. “The object is to toss the Panty Discus as far as you can. Farthest combined toss wins.”
“Oldest goes first,” I tell him.
“Works for me.” Alex stands at the starting line and starts twirling the ball over his head faster and faster before he releases it. It flies high and far in the air. When it lands, he’s pretty cocky thinking that nobody can best him. He places a rock in its place. “Brit, your turn.”
I watch as Brittany tries the same technique, twirling the ball over her head. He stands next to her, coaching, while Paco makes a game of trying to pat down my spiked hair. “Come on, Brit, I got full faith in you to pull this one out,” Alex says to Brittany. “Twirl it faster now. Damn, girl, you look hot doin’ that. Okay, release!”
She does, but the Panty Discus is released when the ball is aimed to the side and flies out of her hand, heading directly to her right and not straight ahead. It lands about fifteen feet to the side of the starting line.
“What. The. Hell. Was. That?” Alex asks, sucking in a breath.
Brittany huffs and cries out, “You said I looked hot and it totally threw me off. It’s not my fault. I’ve never played this game before, Alex. Next time, shut up and let me toss it without your comments.”
“Chica, that was embarrassin’. You need some intensive Panty Discus instruction.” He playfully picks her up and carries her to where we’re sitting. “When we get home—”
“My turn!” Carlos says, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Watch and learn from the expert, people.” He limps over to the starting line and circles one end of the hose over his head. “You takin’ notes, Kiara?”
“I’m too busy w-w-watching your muscles flex,” she says.
He wags his eyebrows at her, then whips the Panty Discus with all he’s got and it lands a yard or so farther than Alex’s toss. Carlos yelps out another war cry and kisses his newfound army muscles. “Army strong, suck’ahs!”
“You’re loco,” I tell him as he puts a stick to mark the place of his throw and hands the Panty Discus to Kiara.