Bunco Babes Tell All

by Maria Geraci

  “You say ‘old’ like it’s a four-letter word. It’s a great house with lots of character and—”

  “I’m not disputing that it’s a great house. Hell, if it was in better shape and a couple hundred thousand dollars cheaper, I’d recommend you buy it yourself. If you had the money, that is.”

  “So you think I should buy a house?”

  “You’re probably the only Realtor I know who doesn’t own her own house.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she said gloomily. “I should have bought that three bedroom on Emerald Drive five years ago when I had the chance. I guess I just figured there would be plenty of time.” Or that she’d get married and be buying her first house with her husband.

  “There’s still reasonably priced real estate on the market. You could always buy a place at—”

  “If you say Dolphin Isles I’m going to scream.”

  He shrugged. “Those houses make great rental properties. In a few years when the market turns around, you’re looking at a nice little profit there.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re buying a house in Dolphin Isles.”

  Moose made a face. “You know I’d never buy a house from anyone but you.”

  “I know. I mean, I’d never have thought that in a million years.” She laughed in relief. “It’s just that I saw Shea’s car parked there this morning, and I have to admit, I was curious.”

  He frowned. “You saw the Navigator at Dolphin Isles? Had to be someone else. Shea was taking the girls to dance class. At least, I think that’s what she said.”

  “You must be right.” Although, she’d been positive it was Shea’s car at the time.

  Moose picked the Danish off the desk and studied it. “Is this cheese?” he asked.

  Kitty nodded.

  “I guess just one can’t hurt.” He finished it off in three bites. “Anyway, I didn’t come by to harp on you.” His tone turned sympathetic. He was morphing into his Moose the Friend voice. Kitty didn’t know if this was good or bad.

  “Promise me you won’t get mad,” he began.

  “What are we, back in fifth grade?”

  “Your mom called me last night.”

  “My mom called you?”

  “At first, I thought she was looking for financial advice, so I thought, okay, this is cool, and then out of the blue, she goes in for the kill.”

  “The kill?” Kitty asked weakly.

  Moose’s gaze searched her desk for the other Danish.

  “Spill it like a man,” she said.

  “She asked me if the For Sale sign was prominently displayed in front of the house.”

  “And you said?”

  “Well, it’s kind of tricky. She sort of snuck it in between asking about T-bills and CDs and I guess I was distracted and sort of told her there wasn’t a sign up.”

  “Moose!”

  He cringed. “You have to tell her sometime, Kit. Or better yet, just put the damn sign up and get it over with. You can’t afford the house, and that’s that.”

  She nodded numbly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, looking sheepish.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He gave her a hug. “I’ll call you soon.” He eyed her open checkbook on the desktop. “Be a good girl.”

  Kitty flopped into her chair and stared at the empty computer screen in front of her.

  This was a disaster. Up until now she’d managed to keep her mother in the dark, but she was only delaying the inevitable. If her mother was determined to sell the house, then she’d find a way to make it happen. Kitty wouldn’t even put it past her to contact another Realtor. The only bright spot in this whole mess was that the market was painfully slow right now, and despite the run-down condition of the house, the size and location put it in a price range way above Whispering Bay’s average buyer.

  Which meant it would probably sell to someone who would turn it into a vacation home. Some . . . out-of-towner who’d only come down on the occasional weekend and leave it neglected the rest of the year. Or worse, rent it out to an endless string of vacationers.

  No.

  Gram’s house deserved someone who loved it. Someone who’d cherish it and take care of it and not remodel it according to the latest trends a la Coastal Living magazine.

  She fished around the bottom of her purse until she found Ted Ferguson’s business card.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Ferguson here.”

  “Mr. Ferguson—I mean, Ted? It’s Kitty Burke. I’ve decided that . . . yes, I’d love to be your broker.”

  14

  The three of them sat in beach chairs overlooking the blue green water of the Gulf of Mexico, Pilar on Kitty’s right, Shea on her left. Nick and Moose were pretending to supervise the kids while they built sand castles. But what they were really doing was building the castles themselves. It was fun to occasionally glance over to see who was one-upping who with the tallest turret or the deepest moat.

  It had been a typical Fourth of July. After a long afternoon at Pilar’s house filled with various relatives, screaming kids, an eclectic mixture of Cuban food, hot dogs, chips, and one too many beers, they had packed their gear and hightailed it to the beach in time to secure their regular spot to see the fireworks. It was the first time today the three of them had had a chance to really talk.

  The sun had almost finished setting, but Shea still wore her Oakley sunglasses. She also wore a hat and had just finished slathering on her umpteenth application of sunblock. “He said you sucked in bed?” Shea said, sputtering out a spray of soda.

  Pilar whacked her on the back, dislodging the Oakleys off Shea’s nose.

  “Not exactly,” Kitty said, calmly taking a sip of her Diet Coke as if her best friend hadn’t almost choked to death. “He said I didn’t rock his world. There’s a difference, you know.”

  Nick glanced over at them. “Who sucks in bed?”

  “Kitty,” Pilar said, not bothering to glance at her husband.

  “Oh. Well, I happen to know for a fact, that’s not true.” He winked at Kitty, making her giggle.

  Moose laughed too, but Shea silenced him with a look that immediately sent him back to digging sand.

  “Seriously,” Nick said, his green eyes meeting Kitty’s gaze, “the guy sounds like a real asshole.”

  “Watch your language,” Pilar admonished, nodding toward the kids.

  Nick shrugged and went back to his castle building. He was a runner, lean and agile, with cropped blond hair and a brooding sensitivity that befitted a man who taught high school English. Their son, Anthony, had Pilar’s dark hair and flashing brown eyes, but even at three, it was obvious he had inherited Nick’s personality. Kitty glanced away. She wished Pilar hadn’t told them about Nick’s vasectomy. It was weird knowing the two of them were in some sort of sexual power struggle.

  “How’s Anthony doing with potty training?” Shea asked.

  “So far, no accidents with number one. But number two is a different story altogether.”

  Shea nodded. “I’ve read boys can be stubborn about that.”

  “The only good part about the whole thing is that Anthony refuses to go to the ladies’ room if Nick is there to take him into the men’s.”

  Shea sighed in envy. “Lucky you. Although, I guess I can’t complain. After all, I did have Elise. Maybe you should hire her to help you.” Elise was a toilet-training expert Shea had brought in from Pensacola. She had stayed with them twice now. Her expertise had only been needed a few days with Casey. But Briana had proven more stubborn and Elise had had to stay over a week the second time.

  “My mother would go crazy if I paid someone fifty bucks an hour to potty train Anthony. But enough of that. I want to hear the rest of Kitty’s story. Did you really demand he give you back your thong?” Pilar asked her.

  “Oh yeah. I stormed over to Pappas and Son Plumbing, called him a liar and a pervert, then demanded he return my thong. All in all, a stellar performance.”

 
; “Is that when he turned into a prick and said you were lousy in bed?” Pilar asked.

  “He never said I was lousy in bed!” Where were they getting that from?

  “Whatever,” Pilar said. “Just cut to the nitty-gritty.”

  “I asked him to hand over the thong, and he looked at me like I was Glenn Close from Fatal Attraction. Can you blame him? I mean, it was a pretty far-fetched idea,” Kitty said, raising a brow at Shea.

  “It was the most logical conclusion based on the facts I was given,” Shea said. “Besides, I only suggested he took it. You’re the one who ran with it and had to confront him. We told you it was a bad idea.”

  Pilar cradled her chin in the palm of her hand. “Let’s get this straight. Your thong was folded on top of the dryer along with the towels?”

  “I guess somehow it ended up on the floor in the bathroom. He must have scooped it up with the wet towels.”

  Shea readjusted her sunglasses. “Why would he do your laundry?”

  “Maybe because he didn’t want me to wake up and not have a clean towel?” Kitty suggested.

  “Did he use fabric softener?” Shea asked.

  “He doesn’t wake you up to say good-bye and he doesn’t leave a note, but he leaves you an apple and does your laundry,” Pilar mused. “What does it mean?”

  “I can’t get Moose to pick up his dirty socks, let alone do a load of laundry. It just doesn’t sound right. Maybe this Steve character is a metrosexual.”

  Pilar’s eyes lit up. “Or a stray.”

  Kitty shook her head. “A what?”

  “A straight guy who acts gay,” Pilar said. “I just made that up.”

  “No you didn’t,” Shea said. “I think I’ve heard Dr. Phil use it before.”

  “Then Dr. Phil stole it from me.”

  “How could he have stolen it from you if you just made it up?”

  “He’s not a metrosexual or a stray,” Kitty said. “He drives a pickup truck and he’s worked construction. Besides, if he was one of those he would have made eggs Benedict or something fancy instead of just swiping an apple from my refrigerator.”

  “Maybe he’s a healthy stray,” Pilar said.

  “I still say there’s something not right here. The guy has no sense of humor,” Shea concluded. “Good thing you discovered that before things went any further.”

  “Definitely.” Pilar nodded.

  “We were never going to go any ‘further,’ ” Kitty said. “It was a one-night stand.” How many times did she have to tell them that? And so what if Steve hadn’t found the whole thing funny? If the situation had been reversed, she seriously doubted she would have been laughing. In fact, she would have probably thrown something at him.

  “The whole one-night stand thing just isn’t you,” Pilar said. “Thank God you’ll never have to face him again.”

  “Yeah,” Shea agreed.

  Kitty bit her bottom lip to keep from responding. Shea and Pilar were right about one thing. She definitely wasn’t cut out for quickie liaisons. She didn’t have enough energy left to tell them Joey knew she had slept with Steve. She’d save that nugget for another day.

  She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the warm salty air. There was something about beach air that made you feel alive. So what if it was hot and humid and there were bugs the size of small carnivores? There was no other place on earth she’d rather live than Whispering Bay.

  “I can’t wait till tomorrow,” Kitty said, digging her toes into the damp sand.

  “What happens tomorrow?” Shea asked.

  “She gets her new air conditioner, dummy,” Pilar replied. “You know, Kit, you can spend the night at our house. I swear, Nick jacks the thermostat down to seventy degrees at night.”

  “Thanks, but people have survived for thousands of years without air-conditioning. One more night isn’t going to kill me. Actually, I have something else I’m pretty excited about.”

  Shea and Pilar glanced at one another. “Oh?” Shea asked.

  “I’m meeting with Ted Ferguson at nine a.m. sharp. I’ve decided to rep him.”

  Pilar furrowed her brow. “So you’re going to go through with it?”

  “Why not? As far as I can see, it’s a win-win situation. If I make a big enough commission off this, I could probably afford to buy Gram’s house.”

  “I’m not crazy about the condo thing,” Pilar said. “But it would be cool if you could buy the house.”

  “Are you sure that’s smart?” Shea asked. “Moose says you need to start investing in a retirement fund.”

  “I wish you and Moose would stop worrying about me.”

  “You’re a single woman living on an income that can fluctuate as easily as the wind blows. We just want to make sure you’re financially secure.”

  “It’s just that we love you, so naturally, we worry about you,” said Pilar.

  “I love you guys too. But you can stop worrying. I can take care of myself.” She glanced back at Nick, who was patiently helping Anthony line up a row of seashells around the moat to their castle. A part of Kitty didn’t want to know, but a bigger part of her couldn’t help asking. “Are you and Nick still fighting?”

  Pilar took a sip of her bottled water. Her gaze followed Kitty’s line of vision. “Nick and I don’t fight. We politely disagree. Did you see him this afternoon huddled up with my mother in the kitchen? I swear if he told her about the vasectomy, I’ll strangle him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kitty said. “I just don’t understand—”

  “Look, can we not talk about this?” Before Kitty could respond, Pilar added, “I think we should cancel Bunco this week.”

  “Cancel Bunco?” Kitty and Shea both said in unison.

  “It’s a holiday week. I already know for a fact Mimi won’t be in town. And Lorraine called me yesterday to say she can’t make it either. That means we have to get two subs. And you know how I hate playing with subs. We can’t talk about anything good.”

  The Babes played according to Vegas rules. What happens at Bunco, stays at Bunco. Subs couldn’t be counted on to keep the gossip to themselves. And gossiping while rolling the dice was half the fun.

  “Playing with subs is better than not playing at all,” Kitty said.

  “Besides, according to the rules, all three of us have to agree to cancel. And since it’s at my house, I say we play,” Shea said.

  Pilar sighed. “Okay, but if another Babe cancels, then we skip Bunco this week. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Kitty said. She’d just have to make sure no one else canceled. She’d personally call the rest of the Babes to make sure they were coming.

  “Uh-oh.” Shea propped her sunglasses on top of her hat. “Prick alert. Over by the orange umbrella.”

  The Pappas clan was setting up camp down the beach, Joey and Christy and their two kids leading the way. Gus was there, and Joey’s sister, Angela, who lived in Pensacola, along with her husband and their brood. It was like a scene right out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It was too much to hope that Steve would be missing in action from this little patriotic family gathering, because there he was, being all helpful hauling a cooler, dressed in nothing but navy blue swim trunks and flip-flops.

  So much for her theory on never having to see him again.

  Pilar whistled low under her breath. “And I thought he looked good with his clothes on.”

  Kitty slumped in her chair and slid her baseball cap over her face. But it was too late. Gus spotted them and shouted out a hello. There was no choice but to wave back. Steve ignored her and set down the cooler.

  Four days, a yoga class, and a five-mile run this morning hadn’t been enough to make her forget what a fool she’d made of herself in the Pappas and Son Plumbing parking lot. When she’d fallen on her ass, she must have also twisted something in her neck, because there was a now-seemingly permanent crick there that wouldn’t go away. Maybe it was one of those psychosomatic things. Maybe the only thing that would cure it would be to apologize
to him. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

  “Do you think I should go over and say hi?” Kitty asked. “After all, Gus is my plumber.”

  “Not on your life,” Shea said. “If you go over there, then you’re going to have to say something to the prick. And whatever you say won’t be right, and then you’ll feel like shit.”

  “I already feel like shit.”

  “So you want to feel even worse?”

  “Shea’s right,” Pilar said. “It will only be awkward. Best to just leave it alone.” Pilar eyed her up and down and smiled wickedly. “Of course, with the way you look in that bikini, he’ll probably forgive you anything.”

  Kitty had to admit, the black Maya Bay halter top bikini had been an inspired buy. She usually preferred a suit with a little more ass coverage, but Shea had convinced her to try it on when the two of them had gone bathing suit shopping last spring, Shea’s rationale being that they should go for it since they probably only had a few more good bikini years left anyway. Shea had on a red-and-white-polka-dot number that Moose had initially demanded she return, his rationale being that no wife of his was going to expose so much of her assets in public. Shea had argued that if that’s the way he felt, then he should never have bought her those assets in the first place. Naturally, Shea won out.

  “This is a great suit, isn’t it?” Kitty said.

  “I told you, didn’t I?” Shea replied smugly. She eyed Pilar’s faded blue tankini of last season. “If you’d come shopping with us like you’d promised, then I would’ve guided you into a similar purchase. But, no, you had to work on a Saturday.”

  Pilar sniffed. “Some of us have a life beyond shopping.”

  A beach ball flew through the air, landing at their feet. Kitty looked up to see Joey Pappas heading their way.

  She snatched the ball and threw it to Joey before he could reach them.

  “Thanks!” Joey yelled.

  “Nice save,” Pilar muttered.

  Kitty watched as Joey headed back to the shoreline where the Pappas kids and Steve were awaiting the return of the ball. After a few agonizing seconds, Steve glanced her way. He nodded curtly in their direction, then turned to talk to his cousin.