As people started to filter out from Wheelz, I picked up my pink chalk, sliding it into my jacket pocket. “So now that I keep beating you, does that mean you’ll think about running another side of the story for us?” I asked mischievously.
She arched an eyebrow as she traveled around the table to talk to me. “If I can keep winning easy money every week, I might think about it.” She smiled.
“Playing?” I asked, curious if she meant it.
“Who’s playing? I’m checking out the club every time I come here. You Rebel Saints aren’t half bad and so far, I haven’t seen any handshake deals going down. I might play a few more games, win some more money before I make a final decision.” Angie sauntered past me and put her pool stick back in its slot next to the others.
I dipped my head with a disappointed nod. I thought tonight would have sealed the deal, but it didn’t. “Suit yourself. You never know, we have some pretty good players on the roster right now. They might give you a run for your money.”
“Doubtful, honey. How do you know I’m not hustling you until the end?” Angie retorted.
I snorted as Harper sailed past with a wave. I waved back at her as I thought about getting home. I didn’t like to stay out too late when Teresa was babysitting. I felt guilty enough that I needed her help to take care of my daughter. “You’re not. I know you’re not. I’m a hustler remember? Can’t play a player.” I swung a light jab back at her.
“I don’t know about that. Every now and then, you can,” she shot back. She gave me a quick wink as she headed over to the bar to collect her winnings. She took the rubber band off the money and stuck into her purse. Then she swept back past me. “You can count on me to be here next week, and then we can talk some more about the exclusive. Mmmkay?”
“Sure. Might want to work on your last shots under pressure. You crumble a little.” I fired back a spiteful wink of my own.
She gave me a head shake and breezed out the door.
I dropped the clipboard behind the bar.
Ink gave me a once-over. “You got the hots for her?”
“She’s nice to look at, but don’t read anything into it, Ink,” I replied.
“You’re supposed to be getting her to do the story, not flirting with her,” he said.
“She’s warming up, just needs a little coaxing is all.” I felt confident this was true. But I didn’t take it seriously. Just flirting. I was so not looking to hook up with her or anyone. I had no time to date.
“Okay, if you say so, buddy.” Ink’s eye roll gave him away.
Shaking my head, I waved bye to Ink and Harper, but didn’t look around for the other guys…time to get back home. I knew Sarah sometimes pretended to be asleep when really she was up to no good, playing in her room. I’d caught her out more than once.
Thinking of my spunky daughter brought a smile to my face as the balmy night of Holbeck greeted me. I straddled my Harley and cranked her up. I slid my helmet on and rode out to the south side of Holbeck to mine and Sarah’s little suburban home. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was the perfect place to raise my daughter.
Once I got home, I slowly creaked open the door. Since it was already a little after nine, I hoped I would make the smooth transition to the shower without the little toot giggling behind her door, knowing she should be getting shuteye.
Teresa looked to be dozed off on the couch as I entered. Her eyes flew open as I came in.
I grinned at her. “Caught you napping on the job.”
She yawned sleepily and threw a cushion at me. “Shut up. I was tired. She’s lights out for sure. We were playing a lot of games earlier, so she should stay asleep.”
“Okay. That’s good news. Are you all right to drive? You can just sleep on the pull-out if you’re too tired.”
“Nah, I gotta get back home. Thanks though, bro. Call you in a couple.” My sister was a shorty so she had to go up on her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek.
I ruffled her hair a little bit, something I’d never grown out of doing since we were kids. “Bye, sis.” I opened the door for her and made sure she got to her car safely. Once the car engine cranked, I stepped back inside.
Lucy and I had these big plans to be married, our whole life mapped out together. But Lucy’s illnesses made it impossible for her to care for her own daughter or herself. If I could go back and change it, I would. She had this weird obsession with looking a certain way, these diets – fads at first. She wanted to be thinner, slimmer, fit into certain clothes, and look a certain way.
“Baby, I told you I love you just the way you are. You don’t have to go on all these diets.”
“No, Chalk. I have cellulite pockets. It’s not a good look. Besides, just the other day, you made a comment about how good I looked.”
“You always look good especially when you’re fresh out of bed. Cellulite or no cellulite has no effect on how much I love you.” I got tired of begging her, pleading with her to eat more, eat better. She would hold her top up and look in the mirror and turn to the side. There was barely anything left of her when she got to the end of us. To me, Sarah was our miracle baby.
“I just don’t feel good. I think I need to lie down for a while.” That’s what she would tell me. She would break down regularly, crying all the time after the baby. I tried to soothe her with back rubs and foot rubs. I tried to give her some space and learn how to feed Sarah, but she always wanted her mother. I was freaking out not knowing how to deal with a screaming, teething toddler, trying to make it all work and take care of Lucy at the same time.