by M. C. Cerny
“Seriously?” Tapping sounds through the phone meant Kristen found a pen of her own to click so she could annoy me. I let the silence do the work for me. My sister huffed answering, “Look Chase, it was a full moon and I was left unsupervised at the time.”
“That’s what we’re going with?” I swore my sister had zero accountability and deserved everything she got with Damien Hart. My hand clenched around my pen which I forced myself to let go of. “You’re going to leave me high and dry with Mom?”
“She’s going to hire a catering service. What’s the issue? And for the love of God, get rid of the pen.” I heard her toss the pen getting whinny.
“Chase.” My sister had the unique ability to whine worse than a non-housebroken puppy trying to get upstairs in your bed. It was unfortunate my parents didn’t consider crate training my sister when we had the chance. Of course I’m kidding, but the idea amused me enough to laugh out loud.
“What the fuck is so funny?” She pestered and I choked down the idea of asking her to squeeze inside the large dog crate here in my office next time she over indulged. Knowing her there would be plenty of opportunities to try out that party trick.
I coughed.
“Nothing. Is everyone else going?” I inquired carefully, contemplating who I could bring to run interference on my mom’s piss poor matchmaking attempts. The perils of being Judge Catherine Calloway’s unmarried son.
“If you mean your ex, no, Bec is not invited.” Well, thank God for small favors. She dumped me right after my career ending injury in college and every once in a while, Becky would try to come crawling back with the help of my mom, a case of beer, and old high school prom videos. I could do without two of the three although I doubt there’s enough beer to erase Becky from my mind. Manipulative, lying, backstabbing and all the other adjectives that she continues to be even years later.
No thanks.
“Who else? Spill it, KC.”
“Um, Taylor, Hunter, Demon, and some chick with a tramp stamp. Oh yeah, Whit and this new girl he’s seeing. I think her name is Amy or Leah. It’s something like that, but I haven’t met her yet.”
“So basically everyone is paired up and you want me to come as the unattached bachelor so Mom can hassle me. Do you see how this is a blatant set up?” My sister was such a little witch sometimes.
“Chase, you’re the best brother ever.”
I chuffed. “Kristen, I’m you’re only brother.”
“Pfft. Semantics, besides I’m not going alone so she can pick out everything wrong with some guy I just met.” Her scowl was evident even through the phone.
“Well, if you stopped bringing home the dudes who take you out for the dollar menu, mom might lay off a bit.” Kristen loved her bad boys and made my life as her older brother a living hell. My parents should have stopped with one, but oh no, mom had to indulge in too many mimosas on their anniversary that year and boom I’m burdened with a squalling hellcat I have to clean up messes after. I thought I was pretty awesome even if I didn’t make it to the NFL like Dad expected.
“Sometimes you’re a real jerk and I see why Becky dumped your ass.”
“Ouch.” She knew how to bring the room down by bringing up my selfish ex-girlfriend.
“I know you, Kristen. You’re going to ask Evan to come at the last minute so Damien can blow a fuse again.” Her silence was an obvious omission of guilt. Part of me had to feel bad for the guy, he wasn’t nearly the version of Satan she made him out to be and they taunted each other for years. We all needed a break from their shenanigans even if they hadn’t grown out of it.
“Not true.” Raising her voice defensively, I laughed. We could go around in circles for hours about this until one of us, usually me, cracked and relented.
“Liar.”
“You remember what he did. It was unforgivable.”
I actually don’t remember and I’m pretty sure I am unaware of all the details, but I don’t ask because then it means I might have to get involved and honestly, Damien was a good friend even with his quirks.
Sighing, “When are you going to stop doing tit for tat to each other?” I had to give Damien credit. My sister was a huge pain in the ass most of the time. A loveable one, but still a pain in the ass.
“When he stops dating girls who have misspelled tattoos and uneven clit piercings.”
“Ahh, enough. I don’t want to know anything!” And that right there was why I never ever asked my sister for details about anything. If there was a line in the sand for appropriateness, my sister was a dust storm.
“Sheena totally showed it to me. That dude botched the whole thing and the hood—”
Good golly make her stop.
“Enough! Jesus Christmas, Kristen! I’ll go, but I’m bringing a date. You, dear sister, are navigating Mom and her interning court clerks on your own. I am not going to be the sacrificial lamb.” I was going to have to go through my phone contacts, and fast, to find a victim. I mean, a date for this fiasco. I wondered why I didn’t move far away after finishing vet school. I could doctor pets anywhere; what I needed was a nice town that didn’t have my entire immediate family residing in it.
“Oooh…so I get to meet her? Like an actual woman and not a blow up doll sitting in your car?” Yet another teasing memory from my lovely sister and her friends I would much rather forget.
“Yeah, that day. Now leave me alone so I can finish these charts, hit rehab, and get home sometime tonight before I’m forced to order take-out again.” I rubbed the sore spot of my knee hating that this would likely always bother me.
“Fine, spoil sport. Remember to jerk off before you pick her up so your woody doesn’t scare the poor girl away!” The dial tone resonated peace in my ear when Kristen hung up the phone. Finally, just me and my charts. I didn’t know how Mom raised two completely different kids under her ruling judicial thumb. She still worked as lawyer with her own law firm in town and was recently appointed as a municipal court circuit judge. Mom had high standards for everything, including her kids, and yet we both veered wildly off the path. Kristen with her desire to not go to law school like Mom, and me with my failed football career.
What a pair we made doing everything, but what our parents envisioned for us. It was a good thing Dad was there to balance all this out, even if he still wasn’t speaking to me. It was hard being the high school football coach’s son with a career ending injury. He acted as if my life had been over before it even began when I was the one hobbling on crutches for almost nine months between surgeries. The final straw for him was when I turned down medical school for a degree in veterinarian medicine. Thank God for good friends and an annoying sister.
After work I drove to the rehab center parking in the rear and making my way inside. Years later and the smells of medical facilities still hit me the same with the antiseptic tang. After my surgery and return from vet school I kept regular appointments to make sure my knee stayed limber.
“Hey Doc!”
I turned at the familiar voice and hugged my rehab partner Kiara Roberts tightly.
“How goes it Coach?” She laughed at the nickname.
“My girls’ track team might actually capture a sectional title this year.” I couldn’t see the blush on her dark skin, but her eyes told me she was nervously excited for her team. She did an amazing job coaching and our high school was lucky to have her.
“That’s awesome!” I said proud of her. Kiara was a track star herself until childhood cancer forced her leg to be amputated below the knee. Nothing stopped her tenacity and she continued to compete winning several medals in the Para Olympic Games.
“I really hope they stick with the training. I’m taking a few of them this weekend on a nine mile trail run around Lake Awosting.”
“Ah, the lake run.” I definitely didn’t miss those and my knee ached thinking about it. Kiara herself was training for a fifty mile race in the area raising money for a local charity. I’d stick with something that was more my speed
wearing a tuxedo and going on a date with a woman twice my age with more money than sense.
“It’ll be fun and good bonding for the team.”
“You have anyone else going with you?” I knew the trail was wide and well-marked but Kiara was my friend and I still worried. There was a time I might have asked her out if I thought she might be interested in me but we made way better friends than a romantic entanglement. That was one reason I wouldn’t be begging her to be my date at my mother’s picnic. Mom would know I wasn’t serious about Kiara and still push one of her flirty interns on me.
“Actually, the junior track coach is coming and the girls’ middle school soccer coach. It’ll be a weekend of women in the woods.”
“God help us all.”
“Yeah, and the bruising on my leg.” Kiara sat down and took off her prosthetic limb rolling the sock down to show me. It’s nothing I hadn’t seen before; heck the scar on my knee looked pretty gruesome.
“Whoa, Kiara! Have you had that checked out?” I reach down and gently touch the outer sides of her knee examining the bruise.
“I did. I’m having new socks and a fitting for a new lightweight prosthetic. I’m walking on it differently and I think that’s making it bruise and tender in spots.”
“Not going to lie, it looks painful.”
“Thanks, Doc. Nothing like reassurance.” Kiara teased me and I helped her stand up after she lined up her prosthetic to put it back on wincing.
“How about some stretches and weights?”
“You bet. I need help stretching out my IT band.” She said rubbing her hip next.
“My two favorite clients. What are the odds?” Bobby Reeves an ex-marine himself was now a physical trainer here and one of the best. Without his motivation I probably would have resorted to binge watching Netflix and losing most of the mobility in my knee after the surgery.
“Hey Bobby.” We lean in for a manly hug of back pats and chuckle.
“So who’s the girl?” He asked punching me lightly in the shoulder.
“What girl?” I smiled pushing him back.
“Because I only see you when you want train and look good for a girl.”
“Right and he doesn’t mean me, Doc.” Kiara nudged me playfully.
I thought for a second about my mother’s Fourth of July party, obligations, and pinched the bridge of my nose. The only woman coming to mind was the girl who fainted in my arms. If I was doing this, I might as well go all in taking the risk.
“Alright. Her name is Winnie, but I haven’t asked her out yet.” They both heckled me with ooos and ahs as we made our way into the gym.
“Someone has a crush.”
“She’s here for the summer pet sitting for her aunt who is out of town. I don’t know if anything will come of it.” I had no hope of hooking up with Winnie. The summer would end and she would return to the city. I didn’t do long distance well and I wasn’t moving my vet practice from a place I loved.
“Well, Doc, we better get your flirting muscles in shape then to impress the pretty lady.”
Bobby had me exhausted and sweating in under an hour. Unfortunately, I think I was more sexually frustrated leaving the rehab center than when I came.
5
Winnie
The house phone rang as I rushed inside putting down groceries, a juice smoothie, and a premade pie from the farmer’s market that looked better than anything I could throw together or microwave. Hey, I could order a mean take out but who needed that stereotype floating around? City mouse was about to embark on some country fixings.
Mere seconds separated me from smoothie disaster as multiple sets of legs were tangled in mine. I barely put the items down before I fell back landing on my ass. The sting smarted and the phone kept ringing before I answered it on the fall.
“Damn it!” I rolled to my side and got my eye licked by a Husky who thumped her tail whacking me in the shoulder. If I wasn’t careful someone was going to ask who was roughing me up the next time I left the house. Assault by man’s best friend didn’t sound good.
The phone cord wrapped me up and I answered the phone laying on the floor with my cheek to the tiles and paws dancing dangerously close to my face.
“Winsome Grey!” The voice vibrated from the floor and I picked up the phone placing it against my ear.
“Sorry Aunt Helen!” I winced forcing myself to sit up rubbing my butt that was being sniffed by no less than two noses. Aunt Helen got stuffed between my ear and my neck as I reached up and finger shifted the smoothie into my grasp. I stayed on the floor staring at the sorry state my life had become from the slurp of the straw.
“Honey, I need you to do me a favor.” She rattled off a list of things I swore I had written down already and I rolled toward my bag that was half dumped out on the floor over looking for pen and paper to make sure.
“Of course.” I said thinking that this was probably another set of micro managed details that required my patience more than anything else.
“I need you to take the Tank and drop off the donations for the Women’s Club.” The Tank as Aunt Helen referred to it was her pristine snow white Mercedes Benz that was probably older than I was and still in working order. She babied that car as much as she babied her dogs.
“That’s it?”
“Yes dear. I worried myself into a Mylanta episode certain that I had forgotten the donations.”
“No problem.” Slowly getting to my feet I ignored the jumping dogs, and grabbed the keys.
“You know I bet those ladies are glad I’m on vacation considering I kick all their asses in Bridge anyway.”
“I’m sure your friends miss you dearly.”
I headed out to the garage to check on the car. Sure enough the backseat had been loaded up with bags of clothing donations.
“Did you clean out your closet?” I asked her curious what treasures she was foisting off onto unsuspecting ladies this time.
“Only the mid-seventies. I can’t tell you how badly I wished for floral denim bellbottoms to come back in style.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” I winced grateful that my generation, or at least most of it had skipped that retro look the second time around.
“If you can manage it, bring them over today.” Aunt Helen said sweetly and I knew it was less of an asking and more of a direct telling and considering I was here pet sitting pretty much all day I wouldn’t mind leaving the house for a solo trip that didn’t involve doggy breath or chew toys.
“I’ll leave in about ten minutes.”
“Excellent, now put my babies on the phone please. I haven’t spoken to them in forever.”
“Yeah, great.” I walked back inside and rested the phone down on the counter as the dogs looked at me, all three cocking their heads at the phone. Aunt Helen was talking to them in a high pitched voice cooing and calling them out. Pumpkin woofed and the little shit Roswell growled while Bailey sat looking back and forth between me and the phone. I shrugged as if to say, hey guys, this is your crazy ass mother, I just live here temporarily. It took a few minutes but once Aunt Helen was satisfied I hung up the phone grabbed the keys and made like a bandit out to the car.
The Women’s Club was located on the opposite side of town and gave me a chance to drive around and explore for a few minutes while I navigated parking. Old towns like this one had a small community lot and luckily for me it had one spot empty considering it was summer and tourists were traipsing back and forth between stores and restaurants.
I opened up the back door and pulled out a few bags. They were heavier than I thought they would be and dragging them would only tear the black plastic. I’d have to carry them in one by one.
“Oh my goodness, darling let my daughter help you.” The older woman nudged her younger version toward me.
“Mother.” The younger one smiled through her grumpiness and Chanel suit I recognized from the spring catalog. For a small town, these ladies were dressed exceptionally well.
“Oh come on C
atherine. Anyone can see those are donations.”
“You’re right. My Aunt Helen sent me over. I’m pet sitting for her this summer and apparently the seventies were dying to have a new home before she left.”
“Oh fabulous.” The older woman clasped her hands together ushering her daughter over.
“Fantastic.” This seemed to excite the woman named Catherine and she eagerly took a bag from my arms while I picked up the last one following them inside.
“You know; we’re short a Bridge player. Do you play?”
“Oh, uh not really.” I never played a card game in my life unless helping my dad with Solitaire counted when I was kid. I loved matching the cards up but that was the extent of my card playing abilities.
“Excellent, we’ll get you set up. You can call me Nana Halle and this is my daughter Crabby Catherine.” She smiled and patted her hair like this was all normal.
“I’m Winnie. Winnie Grey.” It felt awkward introducing myself this late in the game but they smiled and letting me follow them inside.
Part of me worried that these ladies were regular card sharks or something. Since I was cut off from my usual funds, I prayed they played for quarters or something more manageable. The check from Aunt Helen hadn’t cleared yet and I didn’t want to have to run across the street to the ATM so they wouldn’t break my legs with their cane or hunt me down at Helen’s house shaking me down for quarters or whatever we would be playing for.
“We’ll teach you the ropes. It’s an easy game once you get started. I taught Catherine and my granddaughter to play, but Kristen is too busy to join us today.”
“Mother, I told you she’s got…”
“I know what that girl’s got, Catherine. She’s got a crush on that plumber boy who keeps waving his pipe around when he really needs to plug up Kristen’s sassy mouth.”
“Oh my god.” Catherine looked mortified and about to apologize, but I waved her off. I was pretty sure I was going to enjoy playing bridge with these ladies after all listening to some local gossip about people I would probably never see again.
