by Rea Winters
“Amie?”
“Hm?”
“That story you told at dinner, about spending the weekend at the hotel…it’s not true, is it?”
Amie’s gaze dimmed again. “You noticed that, ey? Well, it’s half true. The weekend at the hotel is what I wanted to do. What I planned to do. But Papa Bear got himself into quite the jam after a poker game went south. His friends called me to come settle things before he was beaten to death in the alley. So, I left the lobby, darted across town and fixed it. I didn’t speak to him for like a week after that, I was so…exhausted by the whole thing, exhausted by him. He tried to make it up to me, though. Bought me the DVD of this very movie and like ten others and promised to throw me the best movie night of my life. We never could get around to it, but it was a nice gesture. Empty, but nice.”
Unflattering opinions of this ‘papa bear’ were stacking high in Caspar’s mind, but she kept them to herself. She noticed Amie pressing down on her compression wrap.
"Is it itching?"
"Yeah, lil bit. I can't reach it."
Caspar tapped her knee. "Here. Stretch out.”
Amie adjusted a pillow behind her, laid on her back and put her legs in Cas’ lap. Cas massaged the itch out of her Achilles heel. "No protest?” she teased. “Someone's getting spoiled.”
"Hey, I can do it myself.” Amie started to sit up and draw her leg away, but Cas held on to it.
"I'm kidding. Relax. Watch your movie. I think the big contest is coming up."
Amie let her apprehension subside and settled back down, turning her eyes back to the screen.
"It's a championship.”
“Bowling has championships?”
“Of course. You know, I was the queen of bowling when I was a kid. During my dad’s shifts at an Alley, I would sneak out of the back rooms and join some random kid’s party. Pretend to be from their school or their block, wish them happy birthday, give ‘em hugs and stuff like that. And then the moment that cool marble sphere was in my hand, the niceties were over. I would crush them and their friends.” She snorted a laugh. “Now that was one of the best summers ever. Top ten easy.”
“Do you still bowl?”
“No, not in over ten years. But I bet I still got it, though.”
"Then let’s put you to the test.”
“Really? You, Caspar Adami, want to go bowling? In town? Where there are people and noise and a general sense of exuberance?”
"No. I want to take you bowling and endure the rest. There's a difference."
"But it's no fun playing alone. Promise to play with me.” She sat up and stuck out her pinky finger.
Caspar laughed like it was a joke, yet instantly gave in to her and wrapped her pinky around hers.
"Good. It's a date."
Chapter Thirty
Lucky Strikes Bowling Alley
Caspar had never bowled before. She felt bigger and more awkward than usual during her first few steps on the lane. Then a handful of strikes later, the jacket came off and she got into the spirit of things. She threw another ball and hit the spare, leaving the lane clear of a single pin.
"Okay, my turn, my turn."
Her saucy lady friend sauntered up to the lane, bragging about her bowling superpowers. She even went as far as declaring herself a prodigy who was tragically pulled from the scene before she could turn pro. Then, the prodigy proceeded to knock down half the pins on her first go and only one on the second. For the fourth time in a row.
"Okay. Clearly, I'm a bit rusty, but don't let that go to your head. I'm a master at this game."
Thirty minutes later, Amie lost the entire game by a pretty embarrassing margin for a self-proclaimed master. Luckily, Caspar was a bit too mature to rub it in her face.
"Don't worry about it. Some people are just naturally gifted."
Amie smacked her lips at the blatant humble brag. "Oh, you just think you're so cute, don't you?"
“No, I think you're cute."
Amie eased into a lip-biting grin, her heart fluttering. "Flirting with me will not keep me from unleashing my wrath upon you. C’mon, let’s play a different game.” She took Caspar’s hand and led her around to the arcade.
Between the high fiving and hugging, Amie leaving her arm around Caspar’s back and hanging on her side while they teased, taunted, and laughed throughout the games, the pair fell into a natural rhythm. Hanging out like this was a mission in making Caspar more comfortable with being in the outside world. Turned out it was easy to be around a hundred other people when she only had eyes for one.
After two losses at the claw machine, Amie stood on the balls of her feet, tugged on Caspar to make her bend down towards her and gave her a big smooch on the cheek for good luck. It worked like a charm, earning them a little stuffed wolf on the ladda’s third try. The wolf gave Caspar a victory peck on the cheek, then Amie took her hand and led them to the food court. They sat across from each other at a table by some red railing, indulging in two different flavors of ice cream.
“Here.” Amie fed Caspar a spoonful of her frozen treat. “Okay, now, I try yours.”
“Why?”
“Because that's only fair.”
“But I didn't ask for some of yours, you just gave it to me." Caspar gave her a most innocent stare as she scooped another spoonful of her own treat and ate it slowly.
"Hey, didn't you go to kindergarten? This is how it works in the ice cream game. Now gimme."
“No,” she protested in a muffled laugh, dodging Amie’s attempts to stick her spoon in the bowl.
“Okay, I’ll give one last chance to do the right thing here. Ah…” Amie opened her mouth and Cas pretended to concede, floating her spoon to her lips only to draw it back at the last second and eat it herself.
"Boooo," Amie mockingly jeered with her hands cupping her mouth. "Give her some ice cream, boooo, don't be a jerk, booo."
Caspar laughed in a spirited bellow that made her stomach ache and, at last, gave in to her.
“This isn't so bad, right? And not once did somebody come up to you and say something stupid.”
“Yeah, as a curtesy to you most likely.”
On cue, Caspar found herself looking around for what she expected was there all along. Stiff spectators sprinkled among an obliviously moving crowd of youngsters and overwhelmed guardians. A familiar tension tightened her shoulders despite her mental effort to be a hundred percent unbothered. Her hand itched to make a fist when she noticed every other glance was more so directed at Amie than herself. But she clamped down on that growing agitation and refocused her attention on the adorable way Amie ate her ice cream. No stalking off in a disgruntled huff this time. Not when she had the best view in the world right in front of her.
Amie hummed in agreement, finally looking up from her bowl, and pointed her spoon at Cas.
“You’re probably right. Maybe I should become your personal bodyguard. Knock a few heads around – if and only if – it comes to that. Ooh hey, I saw those punching bags in that death trap you call a backyard. You should train me. I’d pick it up no time.”
“I don’t doubt it. But you don’t need to knock any heads for me. You do plenty already just being here.”
Working for her was one thing, but being a friend to Caspar Adami was another story. Life in Cedamire would probably be a lot nicer to Amie if she wasn’t. Yet Cas couldn’t bring herself to warn her to stay away. She was more than comforted by the girl’s proclaimed immunity to the insignificant things that wore Cas low. She was downright inspired by it. By her.
Amie’s gaze fell to the table. The strangest thing about Caspar Adami had to be her ability to make an unabashed girl feel bashful by saying the simplest things with a most natural earnestness. The loner had done a lot for her, too, in the short time they knew each other. More than Amie ever received or would ever expect from anyone. She wanted to get used to it, get used to leaning on Cas every day, to expecting her to be there…but she couldn’t completely silence the warning be
lls that told her it was better not to.
Since she was eight years old, life taught Amie Seda one lesson the hard way time and time again. Love had conditions. Caspar proved so much the exception to the rule that already thinking of her and the concept of ‘love’ in the same frame excited her. But fear of when she might need more from Caspar than she could return – of where the ladda would draw the line between them or retract her promises if Amie ever made life difficult – these ‘what ifs’ that had become her reality too many times to count tamed even the strongest wave of unfettered content.
Caspar cupped her hand, then she dipped her head until Amie’s gaze came back up to meet hers.
“You okay?”
Amie nodded, trying to stick an uncooperative smile on her face. Those thoughts opened a door to heavier things she wasn’t prepared to feel and even less prepared to explain. As if the Ancesti sensed her simmering distress, her watch beeped, relieving her. “Ah, time for my meds. I’m gonna run to the restroom. Back in a sec.”
She grabbed her messenger bag off the back of the chair and quickly sifted through the crowd, leaving Caspar to wonder about the almost solemn air that suddenly fell over her. The ladda mentally kicked herself, just knowing she must’ve said something off-putting and having no idea how to recover. She’d busied herself cleaning up their table and buying them waters when her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Natalie: We need to talk. Look to your right.
Caspar looked around and found Natalie standing halfway in the small corridor to a maintenance room. After a short sigh, she joined her.
“What are you doing here?”
Caspar shrugged. “Hanging out.”
“Hanging out, huh?” She scoffed, crossed her arms. “The Caspar I know wouldn’t be caught dead around here.”
“It’s just a place.”
“Full of people you can’t stand.”
“I haven’t really noticed the people much.”
“Oh why? Because you got that bitch drunk enough to paw all over you in front of everyone?”
Caspar winced, containing a whip of anger. “Don’t call her that.”
Natalie rolled her eyes and muttered. “Jeez, such a big deal.” After a beat of tense silence, the married woman’s aggravation waned into a grumpy pout and that eased into a mischievous smirk. She sauntered up to Cas, clutching the open ends of her jacket. “Okay, fine. I won’t say another word about your precious Girl Friday again. Now c’mere.” She pulled her down and kissed her, trying in vain to pry her mouth open with her tongue. Cas pried her off.
“What?” Natalie giggled and rolled her eyes. “Look, you made your point, okay? I am officially jealous. Now, let’s just go back to the way things were.” She snaked her hands around Caspar’s waist and held on tight, dipping her head back as she pressed into her. “We don’t even have to hide anymore since Jo let it out about us. I’m done being embarrassed. My kid’s party doesn’t end for another hour, so we can go to the car or the bathroom or right here…” When Natalie’s hand slithered around to the front of Cas’ pants, Cas grabbed her wrists and forced herself to look her square in the eyes.
“That’s enough.”
Natalie blinked up at her. An incredulous scoff tumbled past her lips.
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
Caspar’s chest began to tighten. She didn’t like to see women upset and she especially didn’t like to be the one who upset them. But she didn’t want to use Natalie anymore nor be used by her as a substitute for what was truly missing in their lives. She needed to move on to the real thing and whether Natalie was able to do the same couldn’t be her problem anymore.
“You really think you’re something now, huh? Well, you’re not,” Natalie said with sneer, then shoved Cas and stormed off back through the crowd.
The spiky ball of anxiety in Caspar’s chest magnified, jabbing her insides, making it hard to breathe. She couldn’t find the exit quick enough. Once the crisp night air hit her face, she kept walking until she rounded the corner of the building, then leaned against the bricks and inhaled deeply until her chest stopped hurting. The stench burned her nose, but it was easier to breathe beside dumpsters than anywhere else at the moment. In her rush for solace, she hadn’t heard the footsteps marching close behind her.
“Adami!” a woman’s voice called. Caspar turned right into a fist to the jaw. Jo Becker watched her stumble forward into the alley with an angry grimace, shaking the ache from her knuckles.
“I warned you, didn’t I?”
Caspar straightened herself. Rubbing the ache from her jaw, she shot Becker a glare, but resisted the reflex to grab her.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Becker pushed Caspar in the chest again and again, backing her up further into the alley. “Get my wife running to you like a pathetic slut, embarrass me in front of my family. You think you’re better than me? You and your little bitch?”
A dark calm settled over Caspar as a familiar heat crept up her spine. “Don’t call her that,” she warned through gritted teeth.
“Or what? Huh?” Becker revved back another fist, leaving her open for the punch to the gut Cas delivered with the full force of her fury. She doubled over, heaving and coughing. Caspar then gripped her arm where a bandage peeked out under her rolled up sleeve, squeezing with all her might. Becker’s gravelly yelp from the eruption of spikey pain might’ve alerted some passersby had it not been strangled under Caspar’s tight grip on her throat. Cas pinned her against the wall between two dumpsters and dragged her back up the bricks until the tips of her dress shoes scoffed the cement.
“I know it was you who ripped up my office.” Cas squeezed the bandaged wound even tighter, eliciting louder choked groans, but nothing that would be heard over the chaotic symphony of arcade sounds and toppling bowling pins. “I don’t give a shit about some broken chairs, but hurting my girl? That’s another story.”
“S-so what? Y-you really think…anyone…will arrest me over that…bitch?”
Caspar released her neck and punched her in the chest and jaw before she dropped, obliterating that smug smirk from her face. Becker crumbled to the mucky ground at Caspar’s feet, wheezing for air, seeing spots, and spitting blood.
“No, I don’t. Consider that your slap on the wrist.”
Caspar stormed off back to the front of the building. In the back of her mind, she was mentally kicking herself for losing her cool, but it didn’t show in her proud stride.
Chapter Thirty-One
Returned from the restroom, Amie searched the crowd for Cas and spotted her in a small corridor with that woman from the doctor’s office. The one she got her taste of normal with before Amie came along. From the way the blonde clung to Cas, Amie supposed their relationship was still a big question mark. It stung. But rather than awkwardly insert herself in a complicated lovers’ reunion, she turned around and headed back to the restroom.
Pacing in a stall, Amie tried to convince herself to believe that Caspar’s personal life wasn’t her business just because they shared a few moments. After ten minutes, she left the restroom again, hoping Cas was back where she left her, so she could pretend she never saw anything and wouldn’t feel a way about it if she did. Rounding the corner of the corridor, she ran into a man.
“Sorry, sir—”
“Aims!” the man exclaimed, his ear to ear grin revealing a single bejeweled tooth. “Long time, no see.”
Amie’s heart dropped and her blood ran cold from head to toe. She backed up, ready to run for it, only to slam into the chest of another man with the same slimy smile.
“Let’s talk outside, shall we?” The first familiar face suggested, opening up his long leather coat to reveal the gun stuffed in his belt.
Amie swallowed. Her instincts told her to run, but she reminded herself that she knew these guys. Knew the drill.
“Don’t do anything crazy, McCreery.”
“Hey, we just need to talk is all. Won’t take
up too much of your time.”
McCreery, the shorter and thinner of the two pale-faced thugs, lead the way through the back exit into the alley. Amie secured herself against the brick wall beside a dumpster. She crossed her arms and glared the men down as they stood before her.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?”
She was scared, but put on a good act. Just the way they remembered her.
“You’re still cute as ever,” McCreery complimented.
“My dad’s debts were all paid up before he went in and I’m pretty sure there are no blackjack tables in the slammer. What do you want?”
“Well, you see, that’s not exactly true. The part about your papi’s debts, that is. Right, Mikey?”
“Right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Old Tony came to us for one last favor about six or eight months before he got pinched. Said he needed to cover some pretty hefty medical expenses that insurance just wasn’t cutting a big enough check for.”
“Extended hospital stays, physical therapy, top of the line pharmaceuticals…any of this ringing a bell?” probed Mikey, the taller heftier one with the deeper voice.
Amie blinked back the tears stinging her eyes, her heart pounding so hard it threatened to burst.
“Is she surprised? I think she’s surprised, Mikey.” They laughed like hyenas. “How else did you think he was able to afford all that?”
“H-his…” Amie swallowed. “His job at the factory, he got an advance because the boss…”
“Because the boss what? Liked him? Felt sorry for him? Both? I gotta give it to Tony, Mikey. If he finally got one over on his daughter – the queen of smelling his bullshit – he must be a better liar than we thought.”
“Nah, I think it’s much simpler than that. She wants a break from babysitting daddy, so she pretends like she buys for one second that Tony Seda held down a real job long enough to remember the boss’ name, let alone make friends and ask for favors.”
