“You wouldn’t be able to help out for a while.”
I nod. “It would be like taking out a student loan I may never be able to pay back.”
“That expensive?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so do it. Bet on yourself. I am.”
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I whisper.
“How long will you be gone?”
This is the part I dread most. “Six weeks. And I would need to leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I wasn’t about to spend the money without the invite, but if I want in, I have to report within the next few days to keep my spot, and it’s a long drive.”
“What about school?”
“I’ll miss a little, but I’ll make it up.”
“You have to go,” she whispers.
“I know. I have to do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.”
She nods. “You’ve got this.”
I can tell she’s being strong for me, but what we have is new, and I don’t want to gamble with it.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats my words back to me, seeing the apprehension in my face. In this second, I’d move mountains just to fucking pull her to me and kiss her fears away. The secrets we’re hiding from our son are piling up, but I can’t in good judgment say the timing is right. Just as the thought drifts through my head to broach the subject of when, Dante busts us.
“Mommy? Why are you holding Troy’s hand?”
Clarissa squeezes it and lets go. “Because Troy just got really good news. He’s going to camp.”
“Clarissa,” I say softly.
“You’re going. We’ll make it work,” she whispers, “we will.” I want so bad to hold her and hate the fact I can’t.
“What camp?”
“Football camp.”
“For how long?”
“I would leave tomorrow, bud, and I won’t be back for a long time.”
“How many sleeps?”
“Forty-four.”
“Yeah, no,” he shakes his head as if it’s final. “No, you don’t need to go. You’re already good at football. They can have camp without you.”
Clarissa speaks up, saving me once again. “Dante, he needs to go so he can get into shape.”
Dante frowns. “You’re already strong. You can lift me over your head!”
“They’ll make me stronger, bud. Faster.”
“How much stronger?”
“Like the Hulk,” I say, tossing him up and carrying him toward the door at my side. His whines bouncing out with each of my steps. “But, who, will, play, Xbox, with, me?”
“Theo will.”
“I don’t want Theo.”
“I’ll call you every day.”
“I can come see you. Right, Mommy? We’ll go too?”
“No, baby, we can’t come to this camp,” she says, locking up the house and taking the key off the chain before handing it to me. I glance down to where it sits in my palm and close it in my fist. She leans in with a whisper. “So you don’t forget where home is.”
She ushers Dante down the steps. “Come on, we can’t be late for school.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as we make our way to her SUV.
“No way, this is happening,” she gives me a serene smile, and I see all her strength in it. “And you need to be smiling about it right now. We’ve got your back. See you tonight?”
“Tonight,” I say, walking down the steps before shooting off a text.
Troy: I’m kissing the hell out of you right now.
Amy’s Sausage Snack Wraps
Chiropractor, Chicago IL
Makes 48 snacks
30 minutes
2 8 Ounce Cans Pillsbury Refrigerated Crescent Dinner Rolls
48 Cocktail-Sized Smoked Link Sausages
Unroll both cans of dough and separate into 16 triangles. Cut each triangle lengthwise into thirds. Place sausage on shortest side of each triangle. Starting at shortest side, roll up to opposite point. Place on ungreased cookie sheet.
Bake at 375 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Serve warm. If desired, serve with ketchup or mustard.
Clarissa
It’s been less than two days since Troy packed up his truck, and I’ve been walking in a nightmare. Work has been a living hell, hormones, and testosterone flying at me from all sides. I drove through a construction site this morning and got two flat tires, started my period, and was alerted to that fact by one of my students. That was just from seven to lunch. Dante had a rare meltdown in the grocery store after I picked him up, and we’ve been fighting ever since.
All I want is a bath and a little FaceTime with Troy.
Walking my laundry into my bedroom, I glance over at my vanity, picturing Troy behind me, his eyes lit with lust as his lips cover my skin. That fantasy gets me through as I fold a week’s worth of laundry. They say love is a drug, and while I’ve had an inkling of it, I’m positive I’ve never been so doped up on endorphins in my life. I’ve never felt a rush the way I do when he touches me. His voice alone sets me off. Just the rumble of his laugh activates me. His smile, the way his eyes light up when he walks through my door.
I can see the appeal of the overload, but this high is natural. This high I’ll allow myself.
I already miss him. Forty-two sleeps to go.
My phone lights up with the number of Brett’s office, and I hesitate but decide to answer.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Arden?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, this is Marissa with Brett Tompkins’ office.”
“We’ve met Marissa, how can I help you?”
“Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears your check for rent this month has been returned.”
“I’m sorry?” Mortified, I rush to my open laptop and click into my bank account to see that I am, in fact, in the negative by nearly seven hundred dollars.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll bring a cashier’s check by tomorrow, if that’s all right.”
“There’s a two-hundred-dollar late fee after the sixth.”
“That’s today. Can it possibly be waived?”
I wrack my brain on how I might have mismanaged my money.
“I can ask Mr. Tompkins.”
“No. NO! Please don’t do that. I’ll bring it by today before five.”
“That’s fine. See you then.”
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
I toss my cell on the bed and jump when I see Dante’s reflection in the vanity mirror, his eyes wide. “You owe me sooo much money. The F word is four dollars each.”
“Dante. I’m telling you right now. Get out of here and find something to do for thirty minutes. I need thirty minutes.”
“Mommy, I added it up, and that’s,” he starts ticking off his fingers.
“You have no idea because you can’t multiply! OUT!”
“FINE!” He makes his way out of the bedroom as I sit on my bed with my laptop.
Within a matter of minutes, I know exactly why I’m poor. My education. My deferred student loan payments. After half an hour on the phone, I’m no closer to a solution.
“SHIT!”
“Two more dollars, Mommy!” Dante calls from where his sonic ears pick up signals from space. It’s a miracle Troy and I have gotten away with our bickering so far.
“Dante, we no longer give curse money in this house.”
“Nuh-uh.” Deciding not to fight with my six-year-old, I busy myself with my laundry, trying my best not to freak out. I’ve been through worse. I’ll get through this. Opening my dresser drawer, I see Troy’s cream sweater sitting on top of my T-shirts. I pull it out to see a note attached to the breast. I slip the sweater on and bring the V of the neck to my nose, inhaling deeply. I blame the tears that spring to my eyes on my hormones.
Wear this when you need me, pretty woman, and I hope you wear it a lot.
Yours
,
Troy
Walking up the sidewalk into Brett’s office, I cringe when I see his BMW in the parking lot. The man is rarely there during business hours, why does he have to be in today? Cashier’s check in hand and emergency savings drained, I walk into the reception area, thankful to see his door closed. Envelope ready, I hand it to the receptionist.
“222 Ohara drive. You called this morning.”
“Yes, hold on a minute.” She picks up her phone and presses an extension. “Mr. Tompkins.” I wince as she looks up at me with a plastic smile. “Ms. Arden is here.” I’m still cringing when he opens his door and lifts brown eyes to mine.
“Hey, you,” he says, ushering me toward his office.
“Hey, Brett, I can’t stay, I have to pick up Dante from the neighbors.”
He slides his hands in his slacks. This man was my college dream. He’d been a slight obsession for me for multiple semesters. He’s beautiful in the polished suit sense, a take control kind of man, ambitious. All the things I found attractive. But after just a few short months of dating him, all my curiosity was quenched and swapped out for disappointment. But I can’t help but to be thankful for the trade-off as I take another whiff of the cologne from my sweater.
“Come on,” he tilts his head toward his office, “you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Just a few,” I say, walking into his office. He closes the door behind him as my phone buzzes.
Troy: How many sleeps left?
I press my lips together to hide my smile and glance up at Brett, who’s taking a seat behind his desk.
Clarissa: I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of a love affair with a cream sweater. Which I will need every day.
Troy: (Smiley face emoji) Call you later, baby, I need to check-in.
My heart warms at the sentiment.
Clarissa: It’s a date. (Kissing face emoji)
Brett clears his throat. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine. Just stopped by to pay rent.”
“Yeah. I saw that. Everything okay?”
“This is embarrassing. But yes. Everything is fine.”
Visions of bitch-slapping receptionists dancing in my head, I give him a polite smile. That witch knew we were dating because I’ve met him at his office more than once. I’m sure she wants nothing more than to bone her boss, if she hasn’t already. It occurs to me now just how often he called to tell me he’d be working late at the office.
I’m willing to bet she pranced in his office today with his morning coffee, twirling her hair with a ‘guess whose check bounced?’ ready on her tongue.
“Shit happens, right?”
“Yes, it certainly does. But I’m sure you have no clue what this is like. Ever bounced a check, Brett?”
“No, but I’m not ignorant to the issues of the working class.”
I can’t believe I dated this asshat.
“How very philanthropic of you.” I’d chosen my clothes and words carefully while with him trying to fit some idealistic mold. It was exhausting, and I despised that I felt I had to put on such airs to try and impress him. As much of a gentleman as he was, we didn’t mesh, not in the real sense.
It strikes me now just how much Troy and I have in common. We were both raised by single parents, both of us hustlers doing whatever we have to, to reach our goals, to take care of our family. We even fold our towels the same way. I love that.
And then there’s our little boy, who brings us so much joy, living proof of just how well we fit. It’s while sitting in my ex-boyfriend’s office on one of the shittiest of days I’ve had in years that I realize I’m falling for him.
I’m falling for Troy.
I smile as Brett cringes. “That did sound horrible. I didn’t bring you in here to belittle you. It’s the last thing I want to do.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job.”
He barks out a laugh. “God, you don’t mince words. I love that about you. I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to be a dick.”
“Just stop saying you’ve played on my field when you’re in a different ballpark, and we’re good.”
“Fair enough,” he straightens his tie. “So, how are you, really?”
“Good.”
“Dante?”
“He’s wonderful.”
“Good to hear,” he leans in, his fingers splayed on his desk. “If you need me to cut you a break on rent, just let me know. It’s not a problem.”
“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”
“Look, if I’m in the position to help, let me.”
“You’ll always be in the position to help. I appreciate it. But I’m a big girl. It was a bank error.”
“Okay. So, how’s the school year going?”
“Good, almost over.”
“And Roy?”
“You know damned well his name is Troy.”
“Right. Clarissa—”
I stand. “I really need to get going. I don’t want to keep Dante waiting.”
He sighs. “Okay. Please tell Parker I said hello.”
“I will.”
He rounds the desk and pulls me in for a hug. When he pulls away, he keeps his hands on my hips. “If you ever change your mind, for any reason, call me.”
I pull away, giving him back his hands. “Thanks, Brett. I will.”
Just as I reach his door, he stops me. “I really fucked up with you. I should have taken us more seriously.”
“No,” I say, glancing back at him. “Don’t be sorry. It worked out the way it was supposed to.”
“I like your cologne.” I can hear a hint of jealousy in his voice.
“Thanks, it’s a new one.”
“Oh yeah, what’s it called?”
“Take notes.”
I can’t help my strut as I walk out.
Troy: I can’t feel shit.
Clarissa: Wish I was there to kiss it and make it better.
Troy: I can’t believe I’m paying for this.
Clarissa: It will be worth it when they call your name.
Troy: It will. But this is seriously hell on earth.
Clarissa: Stop whining, Jenner. Think of Dante in class sporting his father’s NFL jersey.
Troy: Now that’s good motivation.
Clarissa: Need more?
Troy: Bring it, baby.
Clarissa: Think of Dante’s mother sporting your NFL jersey with her lips wrapped around your cock.
Troy: Jesus, yes please. Give me more.
Clarissa: Sorry, I have to go shape young minds.
Troy: You’re cruel and filthy.
Clarissa: FaceTime tonight?
Troy: It’s a date.
Jamey’s Crockpot Potato Soup
Restaurant Manager, Beaver Falls, PA
Makes 6 servings
6 hours
1 30 Oz. Bag Southern Style Hash Brown potatoes
2 14 Oz Cans Chicken Broth
1 Can Cream of Chicken Soup
1/2 Cup Onion – chopped
1/3 Tsp. Pepper
1 8 Oz. Cream Cheese – softened
Optional Toppings:
Green Onion – chopped
Bacon Bits
Shredded Cheese
Combine broth, soup, onion and pepper in slow cooker and stir well. Add potatoes. Cover and cook on low for 5 hours.
Stir in cream cheese and continue to cook for 30 minutes stirring occasionally until cheese is melted.
Garnish with optional toppings as desired.
Clarissa
“Come on, baby, please.”
I blow in my hands, rubbing them together before trying the ignition again.
“It’s not going to start, Mommy. You’ve tried a hundred times.”
“Shit!” I bang my hands against the wheel as Dante opens his mouth to claim his reward. “Not a word, son.”
I glance over to where Theo’s car sits in the driveway and debate on asking for a favor. I turn it one last time and get nothing but a mech
anic light in the dash.
“Maybe I can fix it?” Dante pipes from the back seat.
“It’s okay, Peanut, I’ll get it fixed.” I chew on my lip and decide I don’t have a choice. “Come on, we’re going to ask Theo for a ride.” I gather Dante, pulling his hood up as I walk across the yard and knock on the door. Theo answers after a beat with a sleepy smile.
“Hey, Clarissa, good morning, Dante.”
“Hey, bud.”
I can’t help my laugh. “Theo, I’m so sorry to bother you, but my car isn’t starting, and I was wondering if you could give us a ride to school?”
“Sure. Just let me grab my coat.”
The ride to school is filled with updates, mostly about Troy.
“Theo, did you know Troy is at camp?”
“Yeah, pretty cool.”
“He’s going to be in the Enful.”
“That’s NFL, baby,” I correct. “The National Football League.”
“I knewed that.”
“You knew that.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Sorry,” I say, glancing at Theo. “I know it’s early.”
“It’s fine. Happy to give you a lift. Will you need a ride home?”
“No, I’ll figure it out. Thank you.”
“Troy is going to be as big as the Hulk,” Dante supplies.
“Someone’s got a new hero,” Theo says with a smirk.
“He’s definitely a fan. How about you? You’ve been busy yourself.”
“Yeah,” he glances over at me. “It’s been a good year.”
“What’s she like?”
“Loud, beautiful, crazy, everything.”
“That good?”
“Better.” Theo glances in the rearview. “Dante, how was your Christmas?”
“Santa brought me a desk and a new bike. And all my Legit Life Merch. I’m wearing my hoodie now, see?”
“He’s driving, sweetheart.”
The Underdogs: The Complete Series Page 48
