by Elicia Hyder
“I appreciate that. Ginny and I might be traveling some over the holidays. If we do, I’ll hit you up.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” Clay raised his voice. “Bye, Marybeth!”
I couldn’t hear it if she responded.
The door closed, and a moment later, Jason appeared at the top of the stairs. I turned and faced the other way. He came over and sat down beside me. “You heard all that?”
I didn’t answer.
“It’s true, Grace. He’s like a brother to me.” He draped his arms across his knees and sighed. “An asshole brother, for sure sometimes, but still.”
I nodded.
“Will you look at me?”
I took a deep breath and finally met his eyes.
“I really like you, and I wish things were different.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I almost shouted.
“No.”
“So you intentionally want to make me feel worse?” I asked. He reached for my hand, but I pulled away and stood. “Give me my keys.”
“Grace, please don’t leave like this,” he said, standing up.
I held out my hand. “Keys, please.”
He reached in his pocket and handed me my keychain.
Angry tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I wanted out of that house as soon as possible. “Goodbye, Marybeth!” I called up the stairs.
“Goodbye, Grace,” I heard her say.
“I’m going out the garage,” I said, starting back down.
Jason followed me. “I don’t want you driving when you’re upset.”
I shook my head and didn’t stop. “I’m not upset.”
“Grace.”
I spun on my heel to face him. “Jason, I’m fine. I’ve had the absolute worst year from hell. Trust me, you don’t have the power to make it any worse. I won’t let you make it any worse.”
He stared at me for a moment, then he nodded.
“I appreciate all you’ve done for me this weekend, but it’d be really great if you don’t call or text me anymore, OK?”
“OK.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Then I turned and walked out the garage door, slamming it behind me.
Twelve
Monica and her husband, Derek, were waiting outside The Drunken Nun when my Uber pulled up to the curb on Friday night. I gave her an excited wave through the window, then thanked the driver as I got out.
“Grace! Oh my god, you look amazing!” Monica ran carefully on her heels toward me.
I did a slow twirl in the black dress covered with red roses. “Thank you.” I felt amazing. It was the first time in months I’d really felt pretty. “Too bad I don’t have a hot date here to appreciate it.”
“Have you talked to him at all?” she asked with a grimace.
“No. It’s done. I plan on drowning him from my memory tonight.”
Her nose wrinkled, but she quickly changed the subject and took both of my hands. “Let me see this creation. I swear, Grace, this dress is gorgeous.”
Kiara had stayed late that afternoon to help me put the finishing touches on my party dress. I had cut out the triangle in the front of the bodice and had lowered the neckline of the halter into a deep sweetheart. As Kiara predicted, the dress was too small when I put it on. So I ripped out the zipper and put eyelet holes in the back to lace it up like a corset. She finished it off by sewing a few layers of red tulle under the skirt to make it stand out.
To finish the look, I twisted my blonde hair up in tight pin curls, and fixed a bright red rose in the back.
“You look beautiful too, Monica.” I hooked my arm around her neck and turned her around toward her husband. “Derek, how does it feel to be married to the hottest woman in Nashville?”
He walked over with a wide smile. “I honestly can’t wait to get her back home.”
She squealed. “Derek, stop it!”
I pushed her toward him, and he caught her in his arms.
“You both need to stop it,” I said with a laugh. “Why are you out here in the cold?”
“Why are neither of you crazy women wearing coats?” Derek asked.
I ran my hands down my skirt. “And cover up any of this?”
He shook his head.
“I told him the same thing,” Monica said.
He took her arm. “And you’ve been standing out here with your teeth chattering.”
“Why aren’t you inside?” I asked again.
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the door. “None of our friends are here yet, and I felt weird going in there with all the vets.”
Couldn’t blame her. The veteran skaters on our team were intimidating as hell.
A sign hung over the black door: RESERVED FOR A PRIVATE EVENT. WELCOME MUSIC CITY ROLLERS!
My heart fluttered. I still couldn’t believe I was part of the team.
Monica must have felt the same because she let a tiny squeal slip.
Derek opened the door and held it for both of us.
Music rose over the chatter of the bar. A live band with a female singer was playing a jazzy version of “U Can’t Touch This” with a bass cello, a drum set, and a grand piano. Monica grabbed my arm. “Oh my god, do you hear that?”
“She’s really good,” I said.
Derek leaned in between us. “Can I bring you ladies a drink?”
“We’ll go with you,” Monica told him.
The building was two levels. Downstairs was the stage and a dance floor with a long bar covering the side wall. In the back and up in the loft, tables faced the stage. The place was packed with far more people than were actually on the team.
I followed Monica and Derek toward the bar, which was already swamped with people. Only a handful of them I recognized. Lady Fury, a recently retired skater, was laughing with Midnight Maven. Doc Carnage was sipping a bright teal-blue drink and talking to a man I didn’t know. She waved when she saw me.
At the far end of the bar, a small space opened up just before the wall. If we hurried, we might be able to wedge into it to order.
Derek saw it too. “Monica, Grace, over here.”
When the three of us reached the empty space, it wasn’t empty at all. Hidden by a group of what I assumed (by their team-spirited colors) were team Jeerleaders, a man was seated on a barstool.
“Nuts,” I said, scanning the bar for holes again.
The man caught my eye. “Do you need to order?”
“Please?” It was more of a whimpering plea than an answer.
He stood, motioned to his barstool, and pressed his back against the wall. “Be my guest. This place is a madhouse.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t help but notice the man was attractive. Dark hair. Bronze skin. Perfect teeth. Before I started staring, I pulled Monica beside me into the space he’d vacated. “Mon, what do you want to drink?”
“Something fruity with vodka!”
My eyes widened. “Oh boy. Derek, you might have your hands full.”
“I’ll take it,” he said, winking at his wife.
I looked at Monica. “How about a Sex on the Beach?”
“Yes, please,” Derek answered for her.
She giggled.
I sighed. “You guys are too much. Derek, what would you like to drink?”
“Water will be fine. I’m driving.”
I shook my head. “This is why God created Uber, Mr. Hooker.” I signaled the bartender, a tall red-headed man with a beard. “One Sex on the Beach, one water, and…” I looked around the room. “What’s the teal-blue stuff so many people are drinking?”
“That’s the RollerRita. Like a margarita with blue curaçao liqueur.”
My nose scrunched. “Not strong enough for tonight. How about a Long Island Iced Tea, please?”
“You got it,” the bartender said.
“Being brave, huh?” Monica asked, leaning against the bar beside me.
“Or stupid.” I
smiled at the man who’d moved for the sake of our order. “Thank you again. Do you need a drink?”
He glanced down at the amber liquid in his whiskey glass. “I’m good right now. Thank you, though.” He gestured to his barstool. “Would you like to sit while you wait?”
Suddenly, I was keenly aware that my legs looked far better in heels when I was standing. And yes, I should have accepted his offer for all sorts of reasons: my soon-to-be-aching ankles or the ease of reaching the bar, but damn it, I’d worked hard on my dress—someone needed to appreciate it.
“Thank you, but I’m OK.” I leaned against the bar top, straining my hard-earned derby calves at an angle. That’s right. Flamingos dance. Some monkeys flash their nether regions. And derby girls flaunt their calves. When I turned my back to him, Monica caught my eye and smiled. She knew.
“You haven’t seen Lucy, Olivia, or Zoey?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “But, to be honest, I barely looked around and then dragged Derek back outside to wait for you.”
I held up my hands. “No judgment here.”
She leaned against me. “Thank you. I felt so stupid.”
“Not stupid at all.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “They’re badass.” I didn’t need to clarify that I was referring to the veteran members of the Music City Rollers being badass and to us being…not.
At least, not yet, anyway.
“Sex on the Beach.” The bartender handed me a stemmed glass filled with orange pink poison, which I immediately passed to Monica. “And a Vatican Iced Tea.”
“Vatican Iced Tea, huh?” I laughed as I took it from him.
The bartender winked and pointed at the “drunken nun” on his T-shirt. “This ain’t New York, sweetheart.”
I took a sip through the straw. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”
Monica smiled. “Does it taste like bad decisions and a headache?”
“Only if I’m lucky.”
“Don’t forget we have the Christmas parade tomorrow.”
“What time are we supposed to be there?” I asked.
She looked at my drink, then at me. “Seven in the morning.”
“That should be fun.” I stuck my straw into my mouth again.
“Oh look! There’s Lucy and West,” Monica said.
Lucy was waving from a table up in the loft and beckoning us to join her. I took a step back from the bar and turned toward the dark, handsome stranger in the corner. “Thanks again for saving the day.”
He smiled. “I’ll try and hold the spot if you need it again.”
Monica hooked her arm through mine as we walked away, leaving her poor husband to follow us. “That guy was cute,” she said in a loud whisper.
“I know. I might have to drink this extra fast.”
She laughed and leaned her head against mine.
“Grace! Monica!”
We looked toward the dance floor as Zoey ran over. She was barefoot and waving a pair of blue ballet flats at us.
“Hey, Zoey.” I looked down at her when she reached us. She wore a sleeveless teal dress with a kaleidoscope pattern. “You look adorable.”
“Thanks. You look like a fifties pinup.”
I smiled and swished my ruffled skirt. “That was exactly what I was going for.”
West Adler, Lucy’s boyfriend, stood when we approached the table. He pulled out the seat beside him for me, and I turned to Lucy and flashed her an impressed smile as I sat down.
“Wow. I didn’t know men still did that,” I said. “Thank you, West.”
He smiled. “Gotta win over the friends, right?”
“Spice Girls wisdom?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
He laughed. “I guess so.”
“He’s a keeper, Lucy,” I said between sips of my drink.
“I agree.” She beamed at him.
Monica smiled back at her husband. “Derek only does that when he’s trying to get laid.”
Derek took a quick step forward and pulled out the seat beside me. He gave a dramatic bow to his wife. “For you, my lady.”
“See?” she said with a laugh. She gave him a peck on the lips before she sat. “Everybody, this is my husband, Derek.” Then she pointed around the group. “This is Lucy, West, Zoey, and you already know Grace.”
Derek waved and sat next to Monica. “I hope there’s not a quiz later.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Derek,” Lucy said.
He tipped his water toward her. “You too, Lucy.”
“Is Olivia still coming?” Monica asked her.
“She said this morning she was leaving work early to be here.”
“Did you find out any more about what’s going on with her and Styx?” Zoey asked.
Lucy was drinking a RollerRita, rimmed with blue salt and garnished with a lime. “Some kind of love triangle that I don’t quite understand. Apparently, Hale Damage told Styx that Olivia was ‘the one that got away’ and started this whole mess. And I guess Haley and Styx are derby wives, whatever that means.”
“But I thought Olivia and Styx were together now?” I asked.
West leaned forward. “Derby wives are just best friends in the league. They don’t have to be together, or even lesbians for that matter.”
We all looked at him surprised.
He laughed. “What? Medusa’s wife is Maven. Everybody knows that.”
I raised my hand. “Not everybody.”
West had once dated our former team captain. If anybody would know, it’d be him.
“Where is Medusa?” Zoey asked, scanning the crowd below.
“Haven’t seen her,” Lucy answered.
West smiled over his glass. “She’s only known for her punctuality to practice.”
“Oh my god, is that Full Metal Jackie?” Lucy asked, looking past us toward the stairs.
I turned in my chair. I’d seen Jackie recently, but she’d been wearing baggy workout gear at the park. Tonight, I hardly recognized her. She was in a fitted, sequined party dress that perfectly showed off her baby bump.
My heart twisted, and I took a long pull through the straw of my Vatican Iced Tea.
“Hi, Jackie!” Zoey chirped, her typical cheerful self.
Lucy stood and walked around the table to hug her. Then she pointed at her belly. “Look at you! You’ve really popped out since the last time we saw you.”
Jackie smoothed her dress over her bump. “Almost five months now. We found out this morning that it’s a girl.”
“A girl!” Zoey squealed.
Lucy clapped her hands. “How exciting! Have you picked out a name?”
“Harper Elizabeth.” Jackie’s face was flushed and glistening, either she was “glowing,” as they say, or suffering from the hike up the stairs. My cynical side—which was now being prodded by a few shots of white liquor—hoped it was the stairs.
“That’s a beautiful name,” Zoey said.
I sucked on my suddenly empty glass, and the air bubbling through my straw rattled the ice cubes. It was loud, even with the music, and everyone looked at me. Monica’s wide eyes were asking, “What the hell, Grace?”
“Sorry,” I mouthed.
Jackie smiled. “Thank you, Zoey. Are you doing the next round of Fresh Meat training?”
“Yes, ma’am. It starts in January.”
Jackie squeezed her shoulder. “Good to hear. Hopefully, if I’m not otherwise engaged”—she put her hands on her baby bump—“maybe I can come watch you pass.”
“That would be great! When are you due?” Zoey asked.
Oh god. Kill me now.
I took Monica’s Sex on the Beach and sucked down three giant gulps.
“Mid-April, so hopefully I’ll make it.”
Monica kicked me under the table. “Sorry,” I said, sliding her glass back over.
She jerked her head toward the stairs, her eyes wide. I looked over to see the guy from the bar, hopefully coming to rescue me. God, he was cute. Like Batman—or, better yet, Batma
n’s equally hot nemesis. “I could use a hot supervillain in my life right now.”
I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud until Monica whirled toward me. Thankfully, I don’t think anyone else heard.
“Have you eaten today?” she whispered, looking at my empty glass.
I shook my head and frowned.
She said something to Derek, then he looked at me, chuckled, and left the table, passing the hot guy halfway across the loft. I straightened in my seat and smiled.
Then he touched the small of Jackie’s back, and she turned around.
Then she kissed him. Full on the mouth.
Monica looked at me and pressed her lips together. I wanted to thump my forehead on the table.
Jackie turned back toward us with the hot guy standing in that place at a girl’s back reserved for husbands, serious boyfriends, and golf instructors. “Guys, this is my husband, Uriah.” She said other things too, but I wasn’t listening. I was looking at the loft railing, wondering if I could make a tumble from it look like an accident.
“Grace!” Monica hissed.
Had I said that out loud too?
“What?”
“Jackie was talking to you.”
I looked back at Jackie and her supervillain. “Sorry. Distracted by the band.”
“I was just telling Uriah that Monica might start helping with the juniors’ team. I said, I was still hoping I could count on you too.”
“She talks very highly of you,” he added, rubbing the back of her neck.
Meh, he wasn’t that cute after all. I swirled my straw around in my ice cubes. I needed more booze.
“Think you’ll consider it?” Jackie asked with a hopeful smile.
I winked, clicked the side of my tongue, and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Excellent. Well, I’m going to take off and find something boring and nonalcoholic to sip on. You girls have fun,” she said.
We waved as she walked away. I noticed her ankles were a little puffy. Never thought I’d be jealous of that. I took a deep breath and stood. But as soon as I was about to announce I was getting another drink…
“Grace! Britches! Whatever the hell your name is now, sit’chur ass down!” Olivia belted behind me.
I turned. She was carrying a round tray full of shot glasses filled with black liquid toward our table. “Hey! Where did you come from?” I reached to help her, but she swatted my hand away.