Britches Get Stitches

by Elicia Hyder

  With a smile, Jordan shook his head. “We’ve all got to work first thing in the morning anyway. Consider this your service to the City of Nashville, keeping a bunch of cops from being hungover on New Year’s Day.”

  The men stood and began closing their chairs and picking up their cans.

  “Thanks, guys. Happy New Year,” Jason said.

  I went over and stood beside him. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called.”

  “It’s OK. He’s right. They weren’t planning on staying much longer. It was an impromptu gathering because none of us had any plans.”

  He didn’t have any plans because he should have been with me.

  “Is your mom OK?”

  “Yeah. She was ready to go to bed.”

  A few minutes later, we were alone and standing in the cold. He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “What are you doing here, Grace?”

  The cold beer can was freezing my fingers. I put it down beside the grill. “I came by because I miss you.”

  He looked at the ground. “I miss you too, but—”

  “Jason, hear me out.”

  After a second, he met my eyes.

  “This divorce has been the messiest thing I’ve ever gone through. I’m not going to lie and say that it’s over, that nothing will ever happen again, or that I’ve been miraculously healed from it.” I took a deep breath and a step toward him. “But I have no doubt in my mind about what I want. I want to start over. And I want to start over with you.”

  “Why? Why me?”

  My therapist had asked me something similar, and I had spent the last couple of weeks thinking about my answer. “Because I admire you.”

  He lifted his head.

  I started to count on my fingers. “You’re thoughtful. You’re protective. You love your mother. You’re kind to dogs, and you’re loyal to a fault. I love you for all those things.”

  “You what?”

  I let out a deep sigh and dropped my hands to my sides. “I love you. And I know it’s too soon and I know I’ve got a lot of baggage and I know I’m probably—”

  He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me.

  Startled, I froze.

  After a second, he pulled back. “Stop talking. You’ve said enough.” I swallowed as he took my hand and leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you too, Grace.”

  We were in his bed when the clock struck midnight.

  Our ringtones had chimed in the new year, but our well-wishing friends had gone unanswered. Because as the rest of world was turning the calendar from one year to the next, we were ending an old lifetime and beginning a new one together.

  I had dozed off on his chest sometime around daybreak, our naked limbs still tangled in his sheets. His arms were curled around me when we woke up to the sound of the doorbell.

  He groaned and sank further under the covers with me. “Who the hell could that be?”

  “Your aunt?”

  “Nah. She doesn’t ring the bell, and I’m sure she’s already here.” He rolled toward me, and I moved my head to his pillow and draped my leg over his hip. Smiling, he ran his warm hand up my thigh. “Good morning.”

  “Yes, it is. Aren’t you going to get the door?”

  “My aunt can get it. I asked her to come over early so I could sleep off the hangover I planned to have this morning.”

  “I thought you said it was an impromptu party?”

  “It was. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t sure I’d get drunk.” He pushed his hips further between my legs. “I missed you. Bad.”

  “I’m here now.”

  Smiling, he hooked his hand behind my knee. “Yes, you are.” We kissed as he rolled on top of me again.

  Upstairs, someone pounded on the door.

  Jason stopped, and his eyes whipped toward the ceiling. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  He moved over, sat up on the edge of the bed, and grabbed his jeans off the floor. As he stood, he pulled them up over his bare ass. Then he took his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. “Shit.”

  I sat up. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have a bunch of missed calls from Jordan and the station.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll bet that’s who’s here. You’d better get dressed.”

  He put on a T-shirt as he left the room. A moment later, I heard muffled voices upstairs as I dressed in my party clothes. The voices got louder as I walked up the stairs.

  When I entered the room, Jason was talking to Jordan, who was in full uniform at the front door. His mom and his aunt looked worried in the living room.

  They all turned toward me.

  Jason ran his hand down his face as Jordan stepped around him.

  “Grace Evans, you’re under arrest.”

  Twenty-One

  Clay had found the eggs.

  The arrest warrant was almost comical. I was being formally charged with vandalism and destruction of property over $1,000. The probable cause was stated (by Clay) as follows:

  Upon moving into my new house, two rotten hard-boiled eggs were discovered underneath the wooden drawers in my desk. The eggs, now partially liquefied and crawling with maggots, were each marked with letters (C & K) written in blue marker.

  After conducting a thorough search of other pieces of furniture that had begun to smell, more eggs were discovered inside my sofa, inside my recliner, and inside my mattress.

  A photo (which I kept) was found the day after my ex-wife moved out of our house—a photo of her posing with a bunch of eggs, all marked with blue letters. The same eggs that have ruined my furniture.

  By the time Jason finished reading it out loud, I was laughing through my tears.

  “Grace, this is serious,” Jason said, holding up the sheet of paper. “It’s a felony.”

  “A conviction could carry a sentence of up to twelve years in prison and five thousand dollars in damages,” Jordan added.

  I gulped. “What do I do?”

  “You’re going to have to get booked in the jail.” Jason raked his hand back through his hair. “I’ll come down with you and either post bail or see if I can get you released without it.”

  Jordan shook his head. “They won’t do an ROR. Not for a felony.”

  “I’ll post her bond then.”

  “Everybody knows who she is by now,” Jordan said hesitantly.

  Jason sighed. “Of course they do.”

  None of it was funny after that statement. This was an embarrassment for him, on top of it being more drama with Clay. “Jason, I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later. I need to change clothes.”

  Jason wasn’t allowed in the room when they were booking me into jail. It was the most humiliating experience of my life. While the female officer was tactful, I was given a pat down that registered on the invasive scale somewhere between TSA and foreplay. Then I was fingerprinted, photographed, and put into a holding cell while I waited for Jason and the bondsman to get me out.

  How the hell could Clay do this to me? I knew he’d be pissed. But actually have me arrested? Not in a million years. I’d bet my life it was Dr. Vagina who’d made him do it. If only she knew about his behavior the past few weeks.

  Jail was miserable. It was cold, loud, and it smelled funny, like old pee and sadness. Finally, one of the officers opened up the cell I was in. “Evans?”

  I stood.

  “You’re free to go now.”

  But Jason was gone by the time they released me. My brother was waiting in the lobby. He stood when I walked out and took a deep breath of freedom.

  I looked around. “Where is he?”

  Garrett shrugged his shoulders sadly. “He paid your bond but left when I got here. He said to tell you he was sorry.”

  I couldn’t say I was surprised.

  And I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  Roller derby was fun that week.

  Not only did Mo
nica, Lucy, and I get to skate again with Zoey at Fresh Meat practice before our practice, as a hardened criminal now, I was able to bring some serious street cred to the track. That first scrimmage back on Wednesday, I scored thirty-two points all by myself. The whole team had cheered. Maven even hugged me.

  After practice that night, we took Zoey out for drinks at Lettuce Eat to celebrate being back at the Sweatshop. While we were there, I had a chance to talk to the soon-to-be Mrs. West Adler about designing some jerseys for the juniors. Lucy happily agreed. We were set to start production sometime the next week.

  To say the least, there was a lot to distract me from my legal woes and Jason. For that, I was thankful. I had texted Jason to thank him for his help the day I was arrested and had never heard back. I wrote him a check to repay the amount of my bond, and I considered delivering in person. It was obvious, however, he didn’t want to see me, so I put the check in the mail instead.

  The next Tuesday night was my nieces’ first roller derby practice. Garrett couldn’t go because of a meeting at the brewery, so I picked them up after work. They talked a thousand miles an hour all the way across town.

  Full Metal Jackie was coming through the parking lot when we got out of my car.

  “Full Metal Jackie!” Hope cheered, running over to give her a high five.

  Jackie laughed. “Let me guess. Your nieces?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, smiling proudly.

  Jackie knelt down. “And what are your names?”

  Hope stuck out her hand. “Cinderolla. Pleathed to meet you.”

  Jackie shook it. “Great name.” She looked at Gabrielle. “And yours?”

  “Gabzilla”

  “That’s fierce. I like it.” Jackie winked at her. “Are you girls here to skate?”

  Hope raised both fists in the air. “Yeth!”

  Gabby nodded her head.

  Jackie stood and looked at me. “And you?” She cocked an eyebrow.

  I put my hands up in resignation. “I’m here to watch, but I will volunteer if you need to put me to work.”

  “I need you to coach,” she said, leveling her gaze with mine.

  “Yeah, Aunt Grathe.” Hope was clinging to my waist. “She needth you to coach!”

  “I can’t coach and make your new jerseys. What do you want from me?”

  “We want you here,” Gabby said.

  “I like these girls already.” Jackie straightened and turned toward the entrance. “Come on inside and get warmed up, girls. We’ll wear your aunt down later!”

  After lengthy training sessions with technicians from both the printer company and the heat-press company, followed by more wasted material and ink than I could’ve ever imagined, actual jersey production finally began. Lucy had come up with a beautiful design in the league’s signature teal and black, and had even designed a brand-new logo just for the juniors.

  All in all, it was a little over two weeks of trial and error (on my part), but we finally started printing, pressing, and sewing. Kiara and Mom handled the store, Margaret and Carla finished the rest of the Black Friday orders, and I worked around the clock making the jerseys.

  Garrett came out to the warehouse a few days later to see me. He brought a six-pack of beer and opened one with a bottle opener on his keychain.

  “I can’t drink that. I’m working,” I said when he sat it down on my worktable.

  “You’re probably going to want it when you hear what I have to tell you.”

  I sat back in my chair. “I don’t like the sound of that.” I picked up the beer. “What’s going on?”

  “Guess who I ran into today?” Garrett opened a beer for himself and pulled a chair over to the table beside me.

  “Jason?”

  He shook his head. “Clay.”

  I slouched.

  “One of my servers broke a glass and cut his hand pretty bad, so I drove him to the emergency room.”

  “Is he OK?”

  “He had to have a few stitches. While we were there, Clay came in with the other woman. She was in labor.”

  I tilted the bottle up—way up—to my lips and drained a quarter of it before putting it back down. Then I burped. “Good for him.” I took another long drink.

  “I wanted you to hear it from me instead of somebody else.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “No, but it was all I could do to keep my fists to myself. Had we not been in a hospital, it would’ve been a different story.”

  “He’s a lucky guy.” I sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing though. Both of us don’t need to go to prison.”

  “Have you talked to your lawyer lately?”

  “Yesterday. We go to court on Valentine’s Day. How ironic is that?”

  Garrett chuckled. “OK, now that’s funny.”

  I peeled the purple-and-black label on the bottle. “You know, if I get convicted, I’ll be a felon.

  “Surely you won’t be convicted.”

  “My lawyer hopes to get the charges lessened to a misdemeanor with probation time and restitution via a plea deal. She should find out next week. If it goes to court, she’s sure I’ll be convicted. He has the picture.”

  Garrett shook his head. “Why the hell did you take pictures?”

  “Sorry. The next time I commit a felony, I’ll be sure to consult you first.”

  “You’d better. I can’t believe you did that shit without letting me participate.”

  I laughed.

  He pointed at me. “I talked to Mom and Dad the other night, and Dad said the same damn thing.”

  We both laughed harder.

  When the laughter subsided, my brother took a drink of his beer. “Have you talked to Jason?”

  “No, and he never cashed the check I sent him for the bond money.”

  Garrett sighed. “I can’t believe he’d just go MIA like that.”

  “I can. It was a really tough month when we were together. Dating me wasn’t easy.”

  “Now that, I can believe.”

  I held up my middle finger.

  “You gonna be all right, sis?” he asked, putting a hand on the back of my chair.

  “Yeah. It’s time to move on. Let my heart heal, and all that. From Jason, Clay, the divorce…” I sighed. “And the baby stuff. Thanks for telling me about it.”

  He stood. “Why don’t you come over for dinner with me and the girls tonight?”

  “I’d love to, but I have practice.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Your girls have practice.”

  “I knew that”

  I snapped my fingers. “Hey, speaking of practice, you should plan to come next Tuesday. Sylvia and I are presenting the jerseys to the team. It’s kind of a big deal.”

  “I’ll be there. Call me if you need me?”

  “I will. Love you, brother.”

  Garrett kissed the top of my head. “I love you too.”

  Twenty-Two

  “Gra-ace!”

  Even though we were friends now, the sound of my name on Sylvia’s lips still made my insides quiver. I got out of my car and closed the door behind me. Ben was wheeling Sylvia and Miss Taylor—great—across the parking lot of the Sweatshop. Andrew was with them, along with two other women and three kids I’d never seen before, a boy and two girls.

  “Did you bring the whole family?” I asked Sylvia as I walked around the trunk of my car.

  “You think I’m picking up strangers on the highway now?” she asked.

  “I assume nothing with you, Sylvie.”

  “Grace, you know Andrew and Ben.” Sylvia gestured toward Andrew and the woman he was walking with. “This is Andrew’s wife, Brandi, and their two kids, Luke and Ellie. And this is Ben’s wife, Jeanine, and their daughter, Mia.”

  Mia looked a lot like the pictures I’d seen of Lexi.

  “It’s nice to meet you all. And it’s good of you to come.” I opened my trunk and pulled out the large cardboard box inside it.

  Andrew st
epped forward. “Need some help with that?”

  “That’d be great.” Before he took it, I pulled out one of the jerseys and held it up for Sylvia to see. “Well, what do you think?”

  Sylvia reached for it, rubbed the fabric along the back of her hand, stretched it a few times, then held it at arm’s length. “It’s fine, Grace.”

  Fine.

  The word no longer irked me the way it used to.

  Ben nodded his approval. “I think it looks great.”

  “Me too,” Andrew agreed.

  “It would have been better in periwinkle,” Sylvia said handing it back to me.

  With a laugh, I took it from her. “Of course it would.” I turned toward the building. “Come on. Let’s see what everyone else has to say.”

  Gabby and Hope ran to me when we walked inside. Garrett was there. So were Mom and Dad. I waved to them. All the juniors skaters and their parents were seated in the bleachers. A few of my teammates were there as well: Monica, of course; Doc Carnage with her daughter; Madam Veruca because she helped with the team; and Susan, our faithful president.

  Jackie came over, excitedly clapping her hands. “It’s time! It’s time! It’s time! We have a table all set up for you.” She led me to a folding table draped with a teal tablecloth.

  Andrew set the box on top of it. I thanked him and opened it.

  Careful to hide it behind the flaps of the box, Jackie lifted out one of the jerseys. “Oh, Grace, these are amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done these before?”

  I laughed. “Trust me, it was a lot of trial and error.”

  “You can’t tell. I’ve played roller derby for a long time now, and these are the best jerseys I’ve ever seen. Just wait until Susan and the rest of our team sees these.”

  “Come over here, Jackie. I want you to meet the Sinclair family.” I leaned close to her and lowered my voice. “I hope it’s OK she brought her dog. She doesn’t go anywhere without her.”

  Jackie waved her hand. “Dogs come into the Sweatshop all the time.”

  We walked toward the bleachers where Sylvia and her family had settled near my family. “Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Full Metal Jackie, the head coach and president of the Music City Junior Rollers,” I said.