by ML Nystrom
Sarah and Jacob chimed in.
“I want one too.”
“I don’t want a hot dog. Those things are nasty. I want a pretzel.”
“They don’t have pretzels here. Those are at the baseball field.”
“They do too have pretzels.”
“Do not.”
“Do too!”
“Do not!”
“Mom!”
Beverly looked at the clouded sky and appeared to be saying a prayer either for patience or deliverance. “Owen, would you mind?”
Owen grinned and stood up. “Come, bunkee-mutts.”
I turned to Bev with a questioning look on my face. She shrugged. “He heard you call them that some time ago and he started calling them that too. He reversed monkey-butts into bunkee-mutts once, and the kids liked it so much it stuck.”
We made a noisy entourage to the concession stand and bathrooms. Sarah took her uncle’s hand on one side while I stood on the other. Jacob led the way, turning around to walk backward and talk about anything and everything that hit his head. Mattie jumped and gamboled around us like a baby goat. How the hell did Beverly manage four children, all with such different personalities and characteristics?
The short line at the concession stand meant I went to the restroom while Owen got to deal with all three juveniles at the same time.
“See? They have pretzels.”
“Yeah, those are in a snack bag. Not the big soft ones you get at the baseball games.”
“They’re still pretzels.”
I laughed as I left the small group. “Can’t argue with her logic, now can you? Sarah, you’ll make a great prosecuting attorney someday.”
She lifted her chin at me. “I don’t want to be the attorney. I’m going to be the judge.”
I had no doubt this little adult-in-middle-school-form would be just that.
I’d turned to make my way to the restrooms when I heard someone call Owen’s name. Jerry Harris walked up to the stand. I knew him from high school way back. He’d been a year ahead of me and always seemed to be on the outside looking in. I remembered him as being what me and my posse of girls called “high school furniture.” Not a popular guy, not really that attractive nor unattractive either. Came from a poor family and had to work at the car dealership as a janitor at night. Never into sports or any school activities. He was just there, going to classes, making adequate grades. Average. Totally average.
High school furniture. Not exactly a nice moniker, but high school kids aren’t known for their kindness towards each other. I had to admit, he’d done very well for himself. He now managed that car dealership, lived in an upscale house, had married a beautiful woman he met in college, and had two children. A real success story, when I thought about it.
I sighed. I loved my cute sporty Audi, but putting an infant car seat in my vehicle? Nope, it wouldn’t look right. Time to go car shopping.
Junior started playing jumping jacks on my bladder, and I almost pissed myself. “All right, all right, I get it. I’m going. Jeez, kid, you’re gonna have to learn some patience.”
“Hey, Owen MacAteer!”
Owen looked up to spot Jerry Harris coming toward him, his two kids in tow. His wife must be on the bleachers somewhere enjoying a respite.
“Jodie loved the design for her she shed. She’s all excited about getting it done before Christmas. Think you can book us in?”
Owen ran through his mental calendar. Connor hadn’t been joking when he said he had more jobs coming in than time to do them. Now that Owen had done so much work in the community, his name was more and more popular as the go-to guy for outdoor deck construction and custom home remodeling. “Got time in October. Halloween.” His comfort level with Jerry had grown to where he could talk more around the man.
“Great news! I’ll tell Jodie to get it scheduled. You know how she is about her day-to-day timeline. Hey, you know, Bertie closed on her new property a few days ago and is moving in soon. Guess you’ll be around for a while so maybe you can meet her after all. She really is a nice woman. I think you’d get along great.”
“Look, Uncle Owen! They have nacho bowls tonight. Can I have one plus a hot dog?” Mattie spun in circles, grinding the toe of his shoe into the fine gravel. “And a Coke? And a brownie from the bake sale?”
“No Cokes or brownies, doofus. Mom would kill Uncle Owen for buying you that much.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She loves me and Uncle Owen, too.”
“Yeah, she loves all of us, but she still won’t let you eat that much junk food.”
“Nachos ain’t junk food.”
“Are too.”
“Are not.”
“Are too!”
“Are not!”
“Uncle Owen!”
Jerry laughed out loud at Owen’s pained face. “I can see you have your hands full. Please keep Bertie in mind. Jodie is pushing me hard to find people for her to meet. You know how it is.”
Owen nodded even though he didn’t know. Not really.
The junk food debate raged on with Jerry’s two kids joining in the cacophony.
“The nachos they make use fake cheese that comes out of a can.”
“What’s fake cheese?”
“It’s made of chemicals. Not real milk, and they have to dye it orange to make it look real.”
“That’s why it tastes so good.”
“Yeah, it tastes good, but it’s not good for you. It causes cancer.”
Mattie stopped spinning and gaped. “Nachos give you cancer?”
“Not the nachos. It’s the chemicals they put in the nachos to make them taste good.”
“Why is stuff that tastes good bad for you, and stuff that tastes bad good for you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Uncle Owen?”
Owen looked down at Mattie’s dusty face and answered in the only way possible. “Ask your mom.”
A burst of laughter sounded behind him. Melanie walked up and put her arm through his. “Spoken like a true male.” She turned her attention to the other man. “Hey, Jerry, long time no see. How are you?”
Jerry’s jovial mood dropped a bit, but he recovered quick, as a professional salesman should. “I’m good, thanks. Nice to see you, Melanie. I hope you’re well, too.”
“Fantastic. I need to come see you soon for a new car. Something more sedan-like and roomier than my Audi. Got time next week?”
“Sure, sure. I’m there every day. Just come in and ask for me. I’ll be glad to help you out. Are you two… uh… dating?”
Owen felt Melanie stiffen next to him, and she dropped her arm from his. “No, we’re just friends. That’s all. Just friends.”
The food debate got louder.
“I think broccoli tastes good, and it’s good for you.”
“Ewww. Broccoli is nasty.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I kinda like broccoli, but I hate brussels sprouts. My dad said they look like turtle heads. Who wants to eat those?”
“Blech. I don’t think I can ever eat a turtle’s head.”
“It’s not really a turtle’s head. It just looks like one.”
“That’s so gross.”
Owen pulled out his wallet, handed the kids five dollars each, and pointed at the concession line. “Go.”
“Yeah! I can get a hot dog and nachos!”
“What about the chemical cheese?”
“I’ll eat some broccoli tomorrow.”
Jerry grinned. “Perfect save, Owen. Absolutely perfect. Nice seeing you here, and I’ll catch you next week, Melanie.” He moved to take his kids to the line.
Owen stood alone with Melanie, his head and heart full of conflict. Her words firmly put him in the friend zone, and she’d sounded fearful that anyone would wonder about their relationship status. This bothered him. He wasn’t the most educated man in the world, but he still made a good living. He had difficulty talking to people, but it got easier the more he knew and trusted s
omeone, as he was beginning to trust Melanie. Then there was the encounter after the party fiasco at her parents’ house. He had had his fingers and mouth on the woman now standing beside him. He knew her taste and the sounds she made when she came. Friend zone? That hurt. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it did.
“Well, O-man, that was interesting. You do a lot of work for Jerry?” Her nonchalant tone bugged him.
“Yeah.”
“We went to high school together. Did you know that?”
“No.”
“I remember he always worked at something. His family didn’t have money, and he had to get a job in high school just as soon as he turned sixteen. I think he swept floors at the dealership at night, and now he manages the place. I admire that.”
Owen grunted that he heard her but didn’t respond otherwise.
“I’m thinking about house hunting in the next few weeks. My condo is okay for now, but I know it’s not going to be big enough. Want to come with me? I could use your expertise on houses and construction and stuff like that.”
Several emotions flashed through Owen. Resentment topped them. Just moments ago, she’d held his arm like they were a couple. She’d fallen asleep on top of him several times during movie nights at Bevvie’s house. He’d come to her defense against her brother and family, risking the chance of assault charges. She intimately touched him more than once, and he had reciprocated. Yet he was just a friend who could be relied on for errands and house advice.
Guilt followed the resentment. He had no right to be angry, as he had yet to tell her directly how he felt about her.
“If the time comes when you invite me to your bed, I’ll be there not because you opened your legs to me. I’ll be there because you opened your heart to me.”
He’d dropped hints from time to time, but never come straight out and admitted his feelings. How he would trade the world for the chance to be at her side as her man and not as her convenient friend.
She poked at him with a finger and teased him without any clue of the conflict surging inside him. “Back to caveman style communication, eh? You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
Another grunt.
“Seriously, O-man, what’s wrong? Jerry say something bad?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
Owen lifted his eyes to hers and for a moment, he just stared, hoping she would get it. He didn’t have the words. Those blue orbs of hers held genuine question and then widened. Her lips parted and her jaw dropped.
Yeah, she got it.
“Look, Uncle Owen! I put my nachos on my hot dog. That way I can eat it all at once.”
Sarah opened her bag of pretzels and shook out a few. “That’s so gross.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re gonna make a big mess.”
Mattie gave an impish grin. “Yup. An’ I’m gonna enjoy doing it.”
The group made their way through the crowd back to the bleacher seats. The kids devoured their food, the adults chatted, and everyone cheered and stood when the team scored. If anyone noticed the sudden coolness between Owen and Melanie, no one remarked on it.
Chapter Sixteen
“Show us your tits.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Come on, Melanie. It’s not like you’re shy.”
“I just don’t want to.”
Robert and Archie had me trapped behind the bleachers on the other side of the stadium. Magnus stood close by, visibly mad his sister had crashed his party. Archie had said they had booze and invited me to come over. I knew Magnus had swiped a bottle from Daddy’s liquor cabinet. He’s been doing it for years and either had never been caught or Daddy didn’t care. I also knew the last thing he wanted was to have me around him and his friends, but Archie asked me if I wanted to hang out during the “lame ass” football game. A chance to be seen with the most popular upperclassmen? Social score!
Robert tipped the bottle back and took a swallow of the amber liquid. “You’re mature enough to drink, aren’t you? Not a little girl like Kelly Barlow?”
I stuck my nose in the air and tried not to show my fear. Kelly was younger than me even though we were both freshmen. “Of course I’m mature enough. Hand me the bottle.”
I took as small a sip of the booze as I could manage. It took all I had in me not to gag at the fire that burned down my throat.
Archie reached for the bottle. “What did you do with Kelly?”
Robert shrugged. “I took her out last week, and she cried when I felt up her tits. Pretty damn small. Not even a good mouthful yet.”
“Did you suck ’em?”
“Nah. She bawled like a fucking baby so much I didn’t even try to get her shirt off. Waste of fucking time. I bet she has old granny bras, anyway. How ’bout you, Mel? You got pretty bras?”
The liquor settled in my rebelling stomach. Every instinct I had screamed I should run, but I had to brazen it out. No way did I want Robert spreading around I was immature or too squeamish to date. “Yes, I have pretty bras, and no, you don’t get to see them.”
He laughed. “What? You’re not telling me you’re one of those gotta-put-a-ring-on-it girls, are you? Fuck that.”
He grabbed the bottle and took another healthy swallow. “I ain’t buyin’ ’til I tried it.”
My head swam. I glanced over at Magnus. He had his hand in his pocket and pulled out a weird-looking cigarette.
“Is that pot?” I blurted out.
He didn’t answer. His other hand produced a lighter, and he fired up the joint, sucking deep and holding his breath. He handed the cigarette to Robert, who did the same. The air smelled like sweet hay and dirty burning grass. I really wanted to run. But what would they say at school on Monday? They were seniors and practically ran the place. They could ruin the rest of my days with one well-placed sentence.
“Come on, Melanie. Don’t be a baby. Show us your tits.”
I stuck my nose even higher while locking my legs together to keep them from trembling. “You’ve seen tits before. You don’t need to see mine.”
“Is it Magsie that’s got you so frigid? He doesn’t care, do you, Mags?”
“Shut up, asshole, and quit calling me that!”
Robert laughed, and chills went down my spine at his tone. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Archie and I shared a glance, and I braced myself for whatever came next.
“You develop some brotherly love all of a sudden? Does it bother you we want to see your sister’s big, beautiful, bouncing breasts?”
Magnus took back the blunt and sucked another lungful. “I don’t give a shit about her or her breasts. She’s still my sister, and much as I loathe her, I don’t want to see any part of her.” He handed the smoldering cigarette to Archie. “Here. I’m leaving. Do what you want.”
Archie took the offering. “You really don’t care?”
“Not in the slightest.”
My brother turned and walked away, leaving me with his two best friends, one of whom weaved back and forth, drunk and high. Pain lanced my heart, stiletto sharp, with a quick stab. I had no words as he rounded the corner and disappeared.
“Alright, big brother is gone. Let’s see those beauties.”
I turned back to Robert. His glazed eyes fixed on my chest, and I had the urge to cover myself. “No.”
I took a step back and hit the cement block wall. Archie crowded me on one side, and Robert moved in front.
“Take off your shirt.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
“No!”
Robert moved in closer, and I pressed against the wall, scared stiff. Two against one, and they were bigger and stronger. “Archie, hold her hands.”
I tried to make a break and run, but Archie caught me and held my arms back. I had no control. No choice but begging. Tears filled my eyes. “Please don�
�t do this.”
Robert reached out and undid the buttons on my blouse, revealing my favorite pale pink Victoria’s Secret bra. His eyes bugged out at the sheer cups that showed the shadow of my nipples. “Damn, those are some fine tits.”
I could feel Archie’s breath near my neck. “Come on, man. You’ve seen ’em. Let’s get out of here before someone comes.”
Robert ignored him. He reached out and palmed me, his thumbs sweeping across my nipples before digging into the tops of the cups. His breathing increased as he started dragging them down.
“What’s going on here?”
A new voice interrupted Robert, and he jumped back. “C-Coach Dan. Um. Nothing. Just playing around is all.”
Archie released my arms, and I jerked my blouse closed. Relief flooded me as I moved to put some distance between them and me.
“Just playing around, huh? Booze and blunt? You know how I feel about my players using drugs. Two-game suspension.”
Robert sobered up. “What? You can’t do that!”
“I just did.”
“My dad will hear about this.”
“I’m sure he will, and he’ll also hear about his kid smoking dope and drinking on campus. How well do you think that will go over during the next election?”
That shut Robert up faster than anything else would. He glowered at his coach but remained silent.
“Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.” Archie grasped the situation and turned into a placating jellyfish.
“Suck-up.”
I guessed the friendship between the two of them had a few cracks.
Coach Dan turned to me with a pointed finger. “And you, you little cocktease. Stay away from my players.”
I didn’t expect that from someone who just rescued me. “I didn’t… I don’t….”
“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do. I’ve seen girls like you for years. Flashing your boobs at boys and expecting them not to look or touch. Keep those things covered and get the fuck outta here.”
I stood there, gaping in incredulity until the coach roared “Go!” at me. What else could I do? I walked away. I didn’t run. I didn’t cry. I didn’t falter or stumble. I buttoned my shirt and found the steel in my spine that I had developed over a lifetime. Magnus had disappeared altogether. No help there, and I wasn’t foolish enough to expect any. I made my way through the crowd and found Matilda at our normal spot near the top of the student section of the bleachers.
