The Blind Date

by Alice Ward

  “Mama, do we have to watch Fox and the Hound again? Sis watched that this morning,” Clementine whined.

  “Hmm,” Mama hummed. “I seem to remember a little girl who watched Frozen three times a day.”

  Honey leaped off the couch, spilling popcorn everywhere. “Let’s watch Frozen!”

  The boys groaned, Sage saying, “You already picked. Besides, I’d rather watch F & H a thousand times than icicle women.”

  Honey took that as a personal offense and abandoned her popcorn to make pretend ice come out of her fingertips, freezing both brothers into blocks of ice.

  “It’s starting!” Honey squealed and took her seat again.

  My eyes flicked to the screen as everyone settled into their usual spot, the crunching of popcorn all around the room. I bit into a brownie, which I’d made for the occasion. Mostly because I needed chocolate, and lots of it. I had the self-destructive thought that I wished Caleb were here, and there was a painful twist in my stomach. Yep, needed more chocolate.

  I heard a snicker from one of my siblings and turned to glare at the boys. Colby made eye contact with me and stuck his tongue out in response to my shushing.

  Mama pinched Colby and shot me a wink, and the room finally quieted as the movie started.

  I kept my eyes locked on the screen, determined to become immersed in movie night, to push out the thoughts of Caleb. Of Caleb turning back into the hard man he’d been when I first met him. And the guilt that swirled in my chest that told me I could somehow make things different.

  I shook that from my head and concentrated on what was on the screen.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, reminding me of Caleb — everything reminded me of Caleb — and I ignored it, but it stopped then buzzed again.

  I hopped up and pulled out the phone, answering the call from a number I didn’t recognize once I’d gotten to the kitchen. “Cherry Bomb speaking,” I said in a sing-song voice.

  There was a deep, unfamiliar chuckle and my stomach plummeted. A hidden part of me had been hoping it was Caleb. “Cute. Hello, Cherry Bomb, this is Hunter. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”

  Why would Hunter be calling me? Panic punched me in the stomach. “Is Caleb alright?”

  “Oh, yes, he’s perfectly well. A stubborn asshole as always, so nothing new.”

  I fake laughed. At least he was an asshole to everyone, not just me.

  Hunter filled the silence. “I had our social media manager set up a promotion schedule and we’ve had a few bites already. It seems a female fighter is just what women, and men for that matter, want to see.”

  “Then…” My breath caught as realization rushed over me.

  “Someone is already interested in Cherry Bomb.” He cleared his throat. “A satellite radio channel with a focus on fighting wants to do an interview with you to get your side of the Roberto fight.”

  “A radio interview? Oh, I’m not sure—”

  “Monday at ten. This is satellite. It can be heard all over the world, not just local. I’ll have the car come for you at nine. We’ll see you there?”

  I agreed. What else could I do? Then I almost dropped the phone when I turned around and my family had paused the movie to listen to my conversation, their curiosity alive on their faces.

  “Who was that!” Mama asked, one hand on her cheek. “A radio interview? My baby?”

  “It was Hunter, Caleb’s partner. And yes, radio.” I was shell-shocked. How could I do an interview where anyone in the world could hear my voice?

  Mama stood, placing her cool hands on my face. “My daughter is a smart and exciting person. You share some of who you are, be who you are, and it will go smoothly.” Throwing her arms around my shoulders, she squeezed like she could press all of her happiness and excitement into me. “I do not like what you do, but I respect the strength that it takes. You have so much of your father in you.”

  I returned the hug and soaked in the rantings in the background about how their sister was going to be famous. As much as I complained about Mama doting on me, or being overly fussy, I knew that I was lucky to have the support I did.

  “I think I take after you.”

  She laughed and playfully batted at the air in front of her. “Such flattery! Definitely your father.” She shook her head and then sat down and hit play on the remote.

  I could do this.

  I had to do this. For them.

  I just wished Caleb had been the one to call.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Caleb

  I stood outside of the recording room, wearing a pair of headphones that were hooked up to the feed. I could hear what was going on inside the sound-proof room, but everything blurred except Cherry’s voice. And damn she looked good.

  I’d been avoiding seeing her for weeks, hoping what I felt for her would dissipate. It hadn’t. In fact, I felt like Mount St. Helens was in my chest about to erupt.

  Cherry was sitting at a table with two disk jockeys, her own set of headphones on, and a microphone placed in front of her. I could tell she was nervous, but to anyone else, with her hair pulled casually into a ponytail and that model pretty smile on her face, the nerves wouldn’t show past the beauty that smacked you over the head.

  It was difficult to contain myself, watching through the thick glass that allowed me to keep an eye on the proceedings. I had hoped that the initial response to Cherry would be a warm one, and it definitely looked like we were attracting attention. Since the radio show had called, we’d gotten about a dozen more emails and a couple of calls asking for a little slice of Cherry Bomb’s time.

  This was her first step into the world of big time PR.

  I typed a text into my phone and watched her reach into her bag. Don’t be nervous. All you have to do is open up, give a tidbit of yourself to hook the audience.

  Like you do? appeared on my screen seconds later. She didn’t look at me, just turned her phone off and tossed it back in her bag.

  My chest burned, joining my gut in agony, and I wondered if I was having a heart attack.

  One of the techs beside me signaled to the disk jockeys and the two men came alive.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen and straight up beasts! It’s DJ Ray here with my mic-man Freezer, and today we have a special lady with us!”

  “That’s right,” Freezer said, looking indeed like he could be from the freezer with his white goatee and white bushy eyebrows, as he leaned into the mic. “None other than Miss Cherry Bomb herself! Now for those of you don’t know, Cherry is the so stunningly gorgeous fighter who could TKO you straight on sight she’s so good-looking.”

  The two men laughed, and I rolled my eyes, if only to tamp down the jealousy that was suddenly joining the burning in my gut.

  DJ Ray jumped in. “She’s pretty alright, but she really made waves because she lasted several rounds with Roberto De La Matta and even managed to land some pretty intense blows. Say hello, Cherry.”

  “Hello everyone,” Cherry said calmly. “Thank you for having me on today.”

  “No problem! We’re excited to have you.” DJ Ray leaned toward his fellow worker. “Hey, what’s the difference between a woman and a boxer?”

  “I don’t know, since we have both sitting in front of us,” said Freezer in an apprehensive voice.

  “The boxer stands up to be knocked down. The woman lies down to be knocked up!” The DJ roared with laughter.

  Cherry stared at him in horror, and I wanted to shatter the glass, take the guy by the throat.

  Cherry didn’t have a chance to say anything before Freezer jumped in. “This joke’s for you, buddy. A boxer had written ‘You can stop counting, I’m not getting up’ on his tombstone.” He shook his head at his cohort. “You might want to do the same because you just dug your grave.”

  A series of annoying honking sounds played, courtesy of one of the techs.

  “Please don’t punch me,” said Ray, and the two men shared a laugh.

  But Cherry d
idn’t laugh. Good. Instead, she leaned into the mic. “That’s the type of attitude women fighters of all categories come up against every day. I’d like to represent women in creating a place where women can be a part of the fight world without being shaped into a demeaning role or having to take the rampant sexual harassment on to be able to fight.”

  Both DJs stared at her for a heavy, silent second, stopped in their ridiculous tracks by the words “sexual harassment.”

  Cherry just blinked back at them, the corner of her mouth turned slightly upward.

  “Ray, you saw the girl beatin’ up on ol’ Roberto, you have to pick a fight with her and get your chicken butt kicked too? Apologize.”

  Ray all but bowed an apology and went on to talk about her upcoming schedule, which hadn’t been filled yet, so he jumped to her background.

  “What made you want to go up and face one of the most prolific fighters in the current boxing scene?”

  “Well, going to boxing matches as a child with my dad is one of my favorite memories. So even though I knew I wouldn’t win, to be in the ring with a known boxer, I just couldn’t pass it up. The publicity hasn’t hurt.”

  “So your father had an influence on your becoming a fighter?”

  “Dad had an influence on my everything. He was such a strong figure in my life. He taught me to be tough, never give up, and always go after my dreams. We had plenty of lessons in being tough growing up on a three-hundred-acre farm.”

  Freezer snorted. “I bet. Is that how you got to be so strong?”

  A little smile curved Cherry’s lips. “Yeah. Farming is hard work and it takes a lot of discipline, and my siblings and I all started working as soon as we could walk.”

  Ray leaned forward. “What type of farming did you do?”

  Cherry’s eyes widened. “You name it. We raised cows and pigs, but our main focus was on crops. Corn, soybeans, and—”

  “Marijuana?” Freezer asked, bobbing his eyebrows.

  To my surprise, Cherry laughed. “No. My mama would have had a stroke.”

  Ray jumped in. “Isn’t weed like the number three leading crop in Indiana? It could have been very lucrative.”

  Cherry laughed, a big, bright, boisterous sound. “It could have been gold-plated and it wouldn’t have mattered to my mother.”

  “So, your mama was strict?” Freezer asked.

  Cherry bobbed her head side to side. “Yeah, but in a good way, you know? Strict but fair.”

  Freezer bobbed his eyebrows again. “But, you can’t tell me you and your siblings were angels, now can you?”

  Her grin grew wider, and it was nice to see her start to have fun. “Well, I guess my halo got a little dirty at times.”

  The big bastard stroked his goatee. “Come on, tell us a story. Give us a little glimpse of Cherry Bomb back on the farm.”

  She leaned back in her chair, the grin still in place. “You know, if my mom hears about this, she will kill me and my brother.”

  Both DJs leaned forward. “Come on, live a little,” Ray prodded.

  I leaned forward too, hungry for more of this side of Cherry. She was relaxed. Having fun. And gorgeous.

  “Okay, but in order to protect my siblings, I’m not going to name names.”

  Freezer nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Cherry blew out a long breath, looked up to the ceiling as if for guidance, and began. “On the farm, we’d rotate crops so the soil wouldn’t get depleted. Well, this particular year, we planted tobacco.”

  Ray and Freezer looked at each other. “This is about to get good,” Freezer said.

  “For anyone who hasn’t had to deal with tobacco…” She waggled a finger at the two men. “Which is bad for you, by the way. Bad.”

  Freezer raised his hands in surrender. “We got it. Tobacco is bad.”

  She nodded. “Anyway, growing tobacco takes a lot of steps. Planting, topping, harvesting, with a lot of additional steps in between, but in the end, you have to hang it up in the barn for the leaves to dry and cure.” Cherry waved a hand in front of her face as she clearly was about to get to the good part of the story. “Well, the tobacco had been drying for a while, when one of my siblings and I decided we should go try it.”

  “Ohhh…” Freezer said, clapping his hands together.

  “Yeah, except my sibling and I had no idea what we were doing, so we tore some paper from our notebooks for school, snuck some matches from the drawer, and went to the barn to see what all the fuss was about.”

  “Was it good?” Ray asked.

  Cherry laughed. “As a reminder, this is bad! Bad!”

  Freezer lowered his voice, “As a reminder to the audience, this should not be tried at home. I repeat, the following bad, bad deed should not be attempted at home.”

  “Or barn,” Cherry added.

  “Or barn,” Freezer repeated. “Go on.”

  “So, my sibling and I pulled down some leaves and rolled it in the notepaper. We ended up with…” she held her hands about a foot apart, “this monster sized cigar looking thing.”

  Both men started laughing, wiping at tears.

  “I put that sucker between my lips and my sibling strikes the match. I take a big puff and… whoosh!” Cherry threw up her hands. “The entire thing bursts into flames… right in my face.”

  Ray stuttered out his question through bursts of laughter. “Were you burned?”

  “No, I should have been, but I was lucky. Lost a good chunk of my bangs and part of my eyebrows. We were seriously lucky we didn’t burn down the entire barn when I threw the thing.”

  Freezer was using both hands to wipe at his eyes. “What did your mama say when you came home with no eyebrows and wacked out hair?”

  “My brother used a crayon to color in my eyebrows, and I was forced to wear a headband for weeks. Said it was the new style.”

  Ray said, “Well your eyebrows sure look real to me now. Real pretty, that is. I’m sure every guy listening is wanting to know… did you leave any boyfriends behind in Indiana?”

  Freezer elbowed him. “Do you like getting punched in the face?”

  Cherry’s pleasant expression flickered ever so slightly. She leaned in and batted her eyes at them, an expression I recognized as the signal she was about to lay down some serious sass.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, leaned against the wall, and watched with satisfaction.

  “You know, I could have sworn that you invited me here to talk about the fight and my experiences as a boxer. But if you want, we can talk about significant others. You first though, Freezer. I heard you might have a certain special someone.” Freezer’s mouth dropped open as his face turned a ruddy shade of red and his eyes flicked to his wedding ring. When no words came out of his mouth, Cherry continued, “It’s actually a funny story how I got involved in MMA.”

  She talked about college and dropping out, and it was so clear that she had command of the conversation that I was sure even the radio listeners were rapt.

  It wasn’t until one of the techs gave them a five-minute warning that DJ Ray looked down at his list of questions. “So tell us, Cherry Bomb, what’s that all about?”

  “You mean the name?”

  “Yeah. I assume that’s not what your mama named you.”

  “I dunno,” Freezer said, nudging his partner. “You know how these new-age names can be sometimes. Scramble a few consonants and vowels together and you’ve got a first and middle name for your baby.”

  “Cherry comes from the trees on the farm I left behind,” she answered coolly. “As for the Bomb part, it’s because of the blast of punches that just burst out of me in the ring or cage. People might think that I can’t do much damage — and in a lot of situations I can’t — but use me the right way, and I can bring an entire building down. I came from nothing, I’m fighting to make a name for myself, but I intend to make a very big impact wherever I land.”

  I couldn’t think of a more perfect end to the interview.

  I sign
aled to one of the techs that we were done here, and he scrambled to launch into the wrap up music. The disk jockeys did a good job of transitioning to the outro, and within a minute, they were off the air and shaking Cherry’s hand.

  It was surprisingly difficult to stop myself from hugging her as she stepped out of the room.

  The way she stopped and looked up at me with those gorgeous hazel-green eyes that seemed to be waiting for me to apologize made me feel like an ass.

  Before I could think of what to say, the door behind me opened and Hunter stepped in.

  He nodded at Cherry and pulled me aside, murmuring in a low voice, “I have to talk to you.” Then he went about giving our goodbyes to the techs, waving to the manager on the way out and swearing that we wouldn’t forget the people who had given Cherry her first interview when she made it pro.

  “You killed it in there, you know,” I said to Cherry, almost afraid of speaking and breaking the good feelings like a bubble as we walked to the car, Hunter beside us. The fragrant newly spring air was still a bit nippy.

  At the car, Hunter grasped my arm and pulled me closer, making eye contact with me. “Listen, first of all I have to say I’m sorry.” He looked miserable and guilty, causing my stomach to churn. “Man… fuck. I was quiet for her. She made me promise.”

  She?

  I frowned, something I didn’t want to consider winding its slimy self through my stomach. Had Hunter… and Cherry? I looked to her, but she was looking at him in curious interest.

  She shifted her gaze to me, and hers widened as she shook her head, her hand outstretched. “Oh no. Not me!” Her gaze shifted to my friend. “What are you talking about, Hunter?”

  I took a step closer to him, anxiety twisting at me. “Who made you promise what?”

  Hunter rubbed his face with both hands before stuffing them into his pockets, his gaze boring into mine. “Lillie. After the car hit her the other night and she ran, she called me.” When I only stared at him in shock, he went on. “Man, she’s in rehab. I paid for everything. She didn’t want you to know until she was less messed up.”

  My mouth moved, but I didn’t know what to say. “Is she…?”