Britches Get Stitches

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Britches Get Stitches Page 32

by Elicia Hyder


  “Girl, anything but tombstones.”

  “OK. Let’s go.”

  We walked out the back doors of the sanctuary and through the lobby that was filling with people. Near the exit, I spotted a familiar smile.

  Jason.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t Officer Eye Candy,” Kiara said quietly. She touched my arm. “I don’t want any part of the awkwardness that is about to unfold right now, so I’m going to take my ass to the bathroom. I’ll be back in three minutes. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She went to the left and I continued on toward the door. He met me halfway. “I was hoping to catch you. I saw you come in and sit down.”

  “You came to her funeral?”

  “She’s an unforgettable lady. Plus, I thought I might bump into you.”

  God, that smile.

  He reached up and ran his fingers through the ends of my shoulder-length hair. “You cut your hair.”

  “And bleached it,” I added with a smile.

  “I like it. You look great,” he said, looking down at my dress.

  “So do you.” Did he ever. I let my eyes drift over his charcoal slacks and fitted gray button-up, then higher to his square jaw dusted with golden stubble around his full lips—

  No. No. No! Geez, Grace. You’re at a funeral. What on earth would Sylvia think?

  My head tilted.

  Actually, Sylvia would probably agree…

  “Grace?”

  My eyes snapped up to see that his brow had crumpled, and he was grinning. “Sorry. It’s been an emotional day.”

  “It’s all right. How have you been?”

  I hugged my arms. “Well, I didn’t go to jail, so that’s good. Clay dropped the charges.”

  “I saw that. I’ve been following your file.”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  He put up his hands in defense. “Not in a creepy way. I just wanted to make sure you are okay.”

  “You could have called.”

  “Trust me, I wanted to.” He looked down at the floor, then shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “How’s derby?”

  I nodded. “It’s going well. Our big tournament is next weekend in Indiana.”

  “Oh right. What’s it called? Something really funny…”

  “The B-Cup Tournament.”

  “That’s it.” He laughed and cupped his hands under his pecs. “Golden-bra trophy.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Good. I got moved back to the dayshift, so I’m no longer a night walker, which is excellent.”

  “I’m sure you’re happy about that. And your mom is well?”

  “She’s great. Thanks for asking.” He looked past me. I turned and saw Kiara crossing the room. “I guess I’d better let you get going. It was really good to see you, Grace.”

  I forced a smile. “You too, Jason.”

  He opened his arms, and I gladly stepped into them. Then he held me for a moment past the “this is really over” time mark.

  My fingers curled into his shirt.

  Finally, he pulled away and disappeared out the door.

  The car ride was silent until we reached the interstate. “Girl, if you don’t start talking soon, I’m going to pull this car over and beat it out of you. What did he say?” Kiara asked, gripping the steering wheel so hard I could see the whites of her knuckles.

  “He really didn’t say anything. Asked how I was doing. That was about it.”

  She laughed and changed lanes. “Judging by that goodbye hug, I’m calling bullshit.”

  “Call it what you want. He said nothing important.”

  “That man loves you. It’s all over his face.”

  I leaned my elbow against the window, cradling my head in my hand. “Sure doesn’t seem that way.”

  “Grace Evans, will you please stop being Negative Nancy? I’m one of the most positive people I know, and you’re going to make me depressed.”

  That got me to laugh. “Oh, Kiara. What will I ever do when you’re gone?”

  “Gone? Am I going somewhere?” She turned toward me. “Are you firing me?”

  “No, but I’m sure you won’t stick around here forever. After you graduate, I assume you’ll—”

  “You assume I’ll what? Because if you know, you’re way ahead of me.”

  “I figured that you couldn’t wait to get out of this place. You know, go somewhere fabulous like New York City and soak up the fashion scene.”

  “Nah. I think I’d like to visit New York City more often, but I don’t want to live there. Have you seen how expensive rent is in Manhattan? I could live like a Sinclair for that in Tennessee.”

  I nodded. “That’s true.”

  “Davion wants me to stay here too. He’ll inherit his family business someday.”

  Her story was beginning to sound a lot like mine.

  “Think you’ll marry him?”

  “Hell, not anytime soon. Not until that boy learns to do his own laundry. You know his mama still washes his underwear? I love him, but I’m not about to marry that mess.”

  I laughed.

  She pointed at me. “If he ever does get his shit together and I do marry him, when he inherits that hobby store, I’ll have all the satin and tulle in the world. So you know, one tick mark in the plus column.”

  “You’re too funny. So you think you’ll keep working for me for a while?”

  “I like working for you. Besides, Professor Sleight called me yesterday. It looks like the school is going to pass the city-wide competition next year for decorating store windows. She’s asked me to help run it.”

  “Kiara, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

  “Thank you. So simmer down, cupcake. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “That’s excellent news.” I pointed at the next exit sign. “You need to get off on Wedgewood.”

  “What are we doing here again?” she asked, taking the exit.

  “Last year, when I went through Fresh Meat training, I became friends with a girl named Zoey.”

  “Oh! I know Zoey. She helped me on Black Friday.”

  “Yes! I forgot all about that. When we were going through training together, she had just finished cancer treatment. Her health wasn’t really good enough then to let her play. Today, she’s taking the test again. I’m hoping we make it there in time for them to announce who made the team.”

  “In that case…” Kiara pressed down on the gas pedal.

  The parking lot at the Sweatshop was nearly full when we pulled in. I checked the time on my phone again as we got out of the car. “I hope we didn’t miss the announcements. I’m sure it’s almost over.”

  We hurried to the door, and I pulled it open with a loud creak. Everyone inside turned to look at us. Most everyone was seated in the bleachers, except Styx, Shamrocker, Medusa, and Maven, who were down front.

  Lucy and Monica were standing in the corner. “Hey, guys. What did I miss?” I asked quietly when I dragged Kiara over to them.

  Monica pointed to where Zoey was sitting nervously on her hands in the middle section of the bleachers. “She passed her skills test and her 27 in 5s trial.”

  I made a victorious fist. “Yes.”

  “And they just finished calculating the written test.”

  “You made it just in time,” Lucy whispered.

  "If I call your name, you can come get your test and your new skater packet. If I don't call your name, you’ll be eligible for the next round of Fresh Meat this summer.”

  Lucy, Monica, Kiara, and I all held hands. The girls in the bleachers were doing the same.

  Shamrocker held up the first test. "With a written test score of ninety-six percent, Pow! Mia, number 8008!”

  Everyone in the bleachers cheered.

  "With a score of ninety-four, number .01, Penny Pinch ’er!"

  More clapping as the girl walked down to claim her test.


  “Also with a score of ninety-four, number 29, Rhea Volt!”

  I leaned over to Monica. “I’m more nervous now than when we were up there.”

  “I know! Me too!”

  “And with a score of ninety-two percent…” Shamrocker paused. “I’ll let Maven do the honors on this one.”

  Monica and squeezed my hands even tighter. Lucy squealed. Maven held the test high in the air.

  “Her derby number is”—Maven’s voice broke—“stage zero. Chemosabe!”

  Twenty-Four

  Most of the next week, I spent at the warehouse working on jerseys while managing the chaos of the store from afar. With the Easter season right around the corner, the dress business had been crazy again, so the jerseys were taking longer than I’d expected.

  On Thursday, I had no choice but to pack up early and head home to get ready for junior-derby practice. I’d promised my nieces I wouldn’t miss it. It was their very first scrimmage.

  I stopped first at the store to check on Kiara. She was in the back, printing off online orders. “Just popping by to see if your offer still stands,” I said with a grimace.

  She scrunched her nose. “You didn’t get them finished?”

  “I ran out of ink. I was able to get some more, but he didn’t show up until about half an hour ago.”

  “How many more do you have to do?”

  “Only three. We can do that many tomorrow, right?”

  “What time do you have to be there?” she asked.

  “Worst case scenario, as long as I’m there by Saturday morning, I can still skate.”

  She nodded. “We’ll get it done.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was already five-fifteen. “I’ve got to run. My nieces are having their first scrimmage tonight.”

  “Oh fun! Tell them I said good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I walked back through the store and outside to my front door. I punched in the code and pulled it open. Bodhi jumped up with all fours and slammed them against my chest.

  I screamed.

  He barked.

  We tumbled out onto the sidewalk together.

  Immediately, I burst into tears. “Bodhi! Bodhi, what are you doing here?” Then I launched into my high-pitched dog-speak as he bounded happily around me.

  Kiara ran out the store’s front door and skidded to a halt when she saw me. She was grabbing her chest. “Sweet Jesus! You scared me to death. I heard you scream.”

  “Look!” I was holding Bodhi by his collar. “How did he get here?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Come on, boy,” I said, tugging him back inside.

  Kiara walked into my stairwell. “Here’s a bag of his stuff.” She dug around inside it. “I found a note.” She handed it to me.

  I unfolded the half sheet of notebook paper and immediately recognized the handwriting as easily as I would recognize my own.

  Dear Grace,

  I hope now you know I’m truly sorry. For everything I did to you. For everything I did to us. I hope someday you’ll be able to forgive me. And I hope with all my heart that you’ll find someone who loves you as well as I should have.

  Take care of him for me,

  Clayton

  PS Tell Jason I’m sorry too. Had I really cared about anyone other than myself, I wouldn’t have tried to keep him away from you. He’s a good guy. You’d be lucky to have each other.

  Now I was really going to be late to practice. I didn’t even bother to change clothes or grab my skates’ bag. I just put Bodhi in the car and we left. I need to say that again…I put Bodhi in the car and we left!

  My dog was back. And I’d never let anyone take him away again. His tongue wagged in the passenger’s seat our whole drive across town. Thankfully, we made it to the Sweatshop in record time. There was an empty spot next to Garrett’s truck, so I parked beside him and led Bodhi inside.

  Mom and Dad and Garrett were helping to set up for the scrimmage. Monica was on her skates in the middle of the track with a few of the girls. She skated over when she saw me.

  “Look! A dog!” one of the girls yelled.

  Several of them followed Monica over.

  She did a quick tomahawk stop. “You can pet the dog later! Back to the track!” She turned toward me and raised her arms. “Look at you, screwing up my practice. What’s Bodhi doing here?”

  “He was waiting at my apartment when I got home today. There was an apology note and everything from Clay.”

  “No way. Are you serious?”

  “I never joke about my dog.” I looked down at my clothes and pointed at my sneakers. “I didn’t have time to get my skates today. Sorry I won’t be much help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk after the scrimmage, OK?”

  “You bet!” My phone buzzed as I walked across the room to see my family. My heart dropped half an inch, worried that it might be Clay changing his mind. I pulled out my phone. It was a message from Ben Sinclair.

  Is now a good time?

  I tapped out a quick response. Only if you want to come to the Rollers’ Sweatshop. I’m at juniors’ practice right now. You’re welcome to join us.

  He sent back a thumbs-up.

  For the scrimmage, I sat on the floor with Bodhi. As a new level-three, Gabby was able to jam. Hope, still a level-two, was only allowed to block with limited contact. Gabby scored seven points in the first half of the scrimmage. A hell of a lot more than I ever scored the first time I played.

  Behind me, my brother laughed and cheered for his girls.

  The bout ended, and I didn’t even see which team won because Gabby was skating toward me with her fists pumping the air. I caught her in my arms. “I’m so proud of you! You should have seen yourself out there!”

  Hope came next. “Aunt Grathe! Did you thee me? Did you thee me?”

  “Of course I saw you. Wow, you’re both so very good!”

  Jackie walked—err, waddled—over. Her “baby bump” was now a full-blown mountain. “Congratulations on your first scrimmage,” she said to the girls, slapping high-fives with both of them.

  “Good job to you too, coach. They look really good out there. How are you feeling?”

  She took a deep breath and rested her hands on her belly. “Like I’m going to explode any day now.”

  I didn’t realize mom was standing behind me until she spoke. “How much longer do you have?”

  “About six more weeks.”

  I rocked back and forth on my tennis shoes. “Then I guess you are going to need a replacement around here.”

  Her eyes doubled. “Yes…?” she said, drawing out her answer into a hopeful question.

  I looked at my nieces. “What do you say, girls? Think Aunt Grace is good enough to coach?”

  “Yes!” Gabby said.

  Hope folded her hands in the prayer position. “Oh pleathe! Oh pleathe! Oh pleathe!”

  I laughed. “I’ll start next week.”

  Hope squealed and threw her arms around my waist. Gabby raised two victorious fists in the air.

  Jackie put her hand on my arm. “You’re going to be great.”

  “I guess we’ll see.” I grabbed my purse off the bleachers. “I have something for you.”

  “For me?” Jackie asked.

  I nodded, reaching in to the bag. Then I handed her the newborn onesie, printed like the juniors’ jerseys.

  She covered her mouth and laughed before accepting it. “Oh my god. I love it!” She hugged me. “Thank you so much.”

  “Your little girl will officially be our tiniest member.”

  “She must have heard you. She’s kicking!”

  I gestured to her stomach. “May I?”

  “Of course.” She put my hand on her stomach. There was a thump thump thump against my palm.

  I smiled and hugged her. “I’m so happy for you, Jackie.” And for the first time, I truly meant it.

  Mom
tapped me on the shoulder. “Grace, I think someone’s trying to get your attention.” She was pointing toward the door.

  I looked over and saw Ben Sinclair-Hoyt. “Jackie, excuse me for a second. Girls, I’ll be right back.”

  Bodhi and I walked to meet Ben at the entrance. “Hi. You made it,” I said.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Not at all. The girls just finished a scrimmage.”

  “Is this your dog?” he asked, leaning down to scratch Bodhi’s head with his free hand. In the other, he carried a thin box.

  I smiled. “Yes, he is. Bodhi, say hi.”

  Bodhi barked.

  Ben laughed. “That’s pretty good. Grace, I won’t keep you. I wanted to give you this.” He handed me the box.

  I took it and carefully opened the lid. Inside was the album Sylvia had shown me at her house. Immediately, tears filled my eyes.

  “We made copies of all the photos for the family, but she wanted you to have this,” he said.

  The tear slipped down my cheeks. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it always.”

  There were legal papers underneath the album.

  “We’ve transferred ownership of the sublimation printer and the heat press to you.”

  “I thought you said they were rented?”

  His head bobbed from side to side. “My mother lied sometimes.” He chuckled. So did I. “She was afraid you would object to us purchasing them.”

  “I would have. I know how much those machines cost.”

  “You can still continue the jersey business or not. There’s no pressure from us. But if you do, the contract guaranteeing you exclusivity in the roller derby market is in there as well. We’ve already signed it. There’s also another agreement in there guaranteeing you a discount on all our fabric for as long as you are in business.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand. “Ben, I don’t know what to say.”

  He grinned. “I think my mother would say, you say ‘thank you.’”

  I nodded. “Probably followed by something snarky.”

  He laughed. “Probably.”

  Closing the box, I held it to my chest. “Thank you, Ben.”

  “You’re very welcome. Mom also designated, in her will, a sizable donation to this team. Part of it, she intended to be a scholarship fund for girls who might need it to pay for skates, gear, or whatever they might need to allow them to play. Our attorneys will spell that out for the league’s board. I just wanted you to know.”

 

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