Marlena jogged to catch up, balancing the tray of smoothies in her hand. “One question. You said that’s a catapult, but I would’ve thought building and competing with weapons would be frowned upon in the schools, even medieval ones.”
“It’s a trebuchet, not a mere catapult. Only a peasant would call it that.”
Marlena grinned affectionately at her BFF. “Are you going to talk like a medieval science diva for the rest of the morning?”
“Maybe. You have a problem with that, sorcerer?”
“Nice. It’s not every day I get called a sorcerer.” They walked around Locks to the canal. Marlena peered through the windows as they passed. When she caught sight of Harper sitting at a table in front of a stack of paperwork and a printing calculator, she waved her phone and mouthed I’ll text you. “Okay, so the suspense is killing me. What’s the challenge this year?”
“To get as many 50-gram orbs into a basket on the other bank of the canal without cracking them, any way we want as long as all the mechanisms are homemade.”
The green-tinted canal water glittered in the morning sun. In the park on the opposite bank, the treetops danced in the light breeze. Marlena loved this not-quite-summer time of year, when the plants peaked in lush greens, the local brooks and canal were full and flowing, and the flowers bloomed with abandon.
Across the commons from Locks sat Allison and Theo’s canal cruising boat rental company, Cloud Nine. Business seemed to be booming. There were cars in their parking lot and, despite the relatively early time, Theo was on a boat, giving what appeared to be a boat captaining lesson to a couple.
“What kind of orb? Like, a ball?”
From the bag she’d brought, Olivia donned a white lab coat. “Eggs.”
Eggs. Of course. “You scientists have it bad for eggs. Which brings me to my question: why didn’t you just say eggs?”
“Orb is a cooler word.”
“Orb is a nerdier word, which is what I love about you.”
Olivia slid safety goggles on, then handed goggles to Marlena. “Here, to protect against flying shells or splinters.”
Marlena pocketed the goggles. “I’ll take my chances. So, your plan is to use this tribute thingy to launch the eggs?”
She snorted. “Sure, we can call it a tribute thingy.”
Marlena eyed the opposite bank. That was a long way to send eggs flying and not expect their shells to get cracked. “I’m assuming you’re also taking shell-cracking prevention measures?”
“That’s the second most important component of the challenge, right after getting the eggs across the canal with accuracy and consistency.”
Marlena took a first sip of her smoothie, considering the various challenge rules and how she might get eggs across the canal without breaking them. It seemed to her that the whole point of scientific advancement was to be able to use the technological fruits of science’s labor, not reconstruct technology from the dark ages, such as Olivia’s catapult. “Couldn’t we just, like, buy a remote controlled helicopter to fly a basket of eggs to the other side?”
Olivia scoffed and held her palm up to Marlena in a “talk-to-the-hand” gesture. “Hater, step back. I’m busy doing science here.”
Marlena bit back a chuckle. “Won’t the city have a problem with a bunch of students and teachers pelting the canal with raw eggs?”
“We’re hard boiling them.”
“And they’ll still weigh 50 grams?”
Olivia gaped at her through her safety goggles. “It’s okay. You can still be my best friend.”
Marlena smiled indulgently. She wasn’t quite as science-ignorant as she let on, but it was just too much fun to push Olivia’s buttons. “The science challenge is one of my favorite days of the year because I get to wear my ‘Ms. Mac is the Queen Geek’ T-shirt and cheer you on.”
Olivia aimed her contraption at the canal and fiddled with the weighted end of the catapult’s arm. “I love that you, Harper, and Presley do that.”
“I’ll have to have a shirt made for Allison this year. One for baby Katie, too.” She held the second smoothie out. “Drink this before you get rolling. Even medieval science divas need sustenance.”
Olivia took a sip, then removed her goggles. A serious shadow crossed her face. “Hey, before we get too busy, I wanted to tell you that, yesterday, your mom called my mom, like you warned me she might. She wants us to rent your brother an apartment.”
Marlena swallowed hard. She’d been expecting this and, therefore, had no reason to be anxious, but she was. “What did your mom say?”
“She said it’s up to me because I’m in charge of new renters.”
“Good.” Olivia knew better than to rent to Michael.
“But my mom also told her that of course I would rent to him because you’re like family.”
Marlena’s heart plunged. “What? No.”
In all the years Marlena and Olivia had been best friends, their parents had never gelled. Marlena’s parents hadn’t liked leaving Michael home alone so they could go out with friends, and by the time Michael had moved to his first group home, her mother was too bone-weary, and her father too surly, to do much more than watch TV in the evenings. It would only be out of courtesy to Marlena that Olivia’s mom would refer to Marlena’s parents as family.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “I haven’t called your mom back, but don’t worry because I won’t rent to him. I’ll figure out a way to turn her down gently.” She took another sip of smoothie, her expression turning sharp. “Or maybe Liam can talk to her tonight during your family dinner.”
Grateful for the sunglasses that masked her eyes flying wide open in surprise, Marlena walked to the edge of the canal’s walking path and stared at the water. There had been no mistaking the acidity in Olivia’s voice. Marlena had the best of intentions to stay out of the middle of Olivia and Liam’s twin feud, but getting embroiled in their drama seemed inevitable. “My mom told your mom about that?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s a big deal to bring a guy home to meet your parents. You’re my best friend. And ever since you slept with him, you’ve been hiding things from me, like where you’ve been all weekend or that you asked him to repaint apartment 710 green. You don’t talk to me anymore. I had to hear about something important in your life from our mothers.”
Olivia was right; she had retreated from their relationship, but . . . “Liam coming to dinner isn’t a big deal. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to turn it into one.”
“It is a big deal. Look, we’re not twenty-one anymore. We’re too old to let the guys we date become all-consuming at the expense of everything and everyone else.”
There had been years like that, in high school and their early twenties. When one of the two of them had a boyfriend and dropped out of their friendship temporarily, in favor of spending every free moment with her guy. They’d vowed to never do that again, but Olivia had a point.
“I tell you everything,” Olivia said. “Every little thing that happens to me. You used to do the same with me. But you won’t talk to me about Liam. Did he tell you not to?”
“What? No. He didn’t, and if he had, I wouldn’t be with him anymore because I don’t have any interest in petty, immature jerks.”
“So, you and Liam are together? You’re a couple?”
“I don’t know.” They’d gone dancing after Bomb Squad’s loss against Puck Norris, followed by a quickie in his truck, followed by hours of fun in her bed, followed by more hours of fun after Friday night’s Bomb Squad yoga class. Yes, he’d offered to join her for dinner at her parents’ house that night, but throughout the whole weekend, they hadn’t talked about future plans, not even about tonight’s family dinner. She still didn’t know where he lived or have his phone number—basic couple musts.
“How can you not know?” Olivia asked. “He’s going to your family’s house for dinner, and Liam doesn’t do the whole meeting-his-girlfriend’s-parents thing. Never has, as far as I can t
ell.”
She could see him not being willing to step out of his comfort zone like that, but he was doing so for her. It’d been his idea, even. She didn’t know what to make of that, even though a stupid, girly thrill coursed through her at the idea that he treated her differently from the other women he’d been with.
“Tonight’s dinner isn’t about meeting the parents as, like, a dating ritual. He’s coming because it’s my first time seeing my brother in my parents’ house in nearly ten years. Liam offered to be there for moral support. Like I said, not a big deal.”
Some of the hurt vanished from Olivia’s expression. “Your parents’ house, that’s where Michael . . .”
That was where he attacked her when she was ten. In the kitchen. “Yes. I’m nervous about being there with Michael, and I don’t know why. I mean, I do, but it’s frustrating that I can’t get over what happened to me so long ago.”
“You don’t have to get over it. You were attacked. You’re allowed as much license as you need to not be okay.”
But you won’t extend that same courtesy to your brother, she almost said. Almost. Except that wasn’t fair to Olivia because Liam had done a terrible job communicating to his sister the scope of the trauma he’d suffered while deployed. Until she could convince Liam to let his guard down and share himself and his struggles with Olivia, the two had no hope of negotiating a peace settlement.
“Thank you. I definitely need to be reminded sometimes that it’s okay to not be okay.”
Olivia roped her into a one-armed hug. “I would’ve gone with you to dinner tonight, you know.”
“I know. But I was in denial that I needed the moral support until Liam insisted on coming.”
Olivia did a slow nod of dawning understanding, though the tightening at the edges of her eyes hinted that perhaps her acceptance of Liam’s place in Marlena’s life was bittersweet. “It sounds like he gets you. For all his faults, even I can admit that’s a very good thing.”
“Hey, girls!” Harper hollered as she strolled toward them.
Marlena turned to her with a smile. “Hi. I didn’t have the chance to text you yet. We’re about to witness Olivia’s latest science challenge invention.”
Harper’s face lit up. “Time for the Queen Geek shirts and pink feather boas again? Can’t wait.”
“Don’t forget the tiaras,” Marlena added. Any excuse to wear a tiara was a good excuse in her book.
Olivia loaded a rectangular Styrofoam brick with four eggs, then nestled it into the sling-shot pouch of the catapult. “Speaking of moral support, I’m going to need as much of it as I can get. The school’s new shop teacher thinks he’s going to beat me this year, and those in the know think he has the chops to do it.”
Harper tapped her chin. “Would I know this shop teacher?”
“I doubt it, because he’s new to town this year. The name is Jesse Church.”
“Really? In that case, I do know him. He comes to Locks every time I hold a darts tournament,” Harper said. “He’s a cutie, but if he’s the opposition, then I say, down with him.”
Olivia took hold of a rope that was rigged to the weighted end of the catapult. “Okay, ladies, ready to witness history?”
Marlena set her smoothie cup on the sidewalk and clapped. Harper joined her. “Let ’er rip!” Marlena cheered.
Olivia pulled the rope. The arm of the catapult swung down and around, slinging the Styrofoam rectangle through the air. Marlena held her breath, watching. They all leaned forward, as though willing the eggs to reach the other bank, but they landed in the middle of the canal with an unceremonious plop.
All three women peered over the edge at the bobbing Styrofoam.
“Oh, balls,” Olivia said.
Oh, balls was right. Suddenly, Olivia’s six-year undefeated streak looked perilously close to coming to an end.
***
Marlena heard the brazen rumble of a truck’s diesel engine and poked her head out the bedroom window to see Liam pulling into the parking lot of her complex ten minutes before his expected arrival time. A quick scan revealed not a single available parking spot, so she rushed to the balcony to let him know he didn’t need to worry about finding parking because she was on her way down.
When he noticed her waving, he stuck his head out of his truck window.
“Great view of your tits from down here,” he called. “Lean over the railing a little more, would you?”
Despite the tempest of nerves swirling through her about bringing Liam to dinner with her parents and seeing Michael, his crass levity made her smile. She pulled the scoop neck of her cornflower blue cotton dress lower and gave him the eyeful he’d requested.
“That’s more like it. Why are we doing the Romeo and Juliet thing?”
She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Don’t bother looking for parking. I’m on my way down.”
He snorted. “I swore to my mother not ten minutes ago that I was going to be a gentleman tonight, so you’d better stay there and let me come up and get you.”
“You’re kidding,” she said. But Liam had already rolled his window up. She hadn’t heard him mention his parents before and couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea that he and Vikki had been talking about her tonight.
She watched him double-park and pour out of his truck. He was wearing a collared white dress shirt open at the neck, tucked into dark gray slacks. The only other time she’d seen him dressed up since senior prom had been at the Wounded Veterans International charity gala—the event where he’d won the massage gift certificate.
That night, he’d worn a classic black tuxedo, as had the rest of the team. He’d held her entranced from a distance that night. Only a few of the Bomb Squad players had looked comfortable in the formal wear, and Liam hadn’t been one of them. He’d been the only teammate who’d taken his bowtie and jacket off faster than Will.
Tonight, Liam didn’t look any more comfortable in his fineries.
Marlena met him at the door before he could knock. “You and your mom talked?” she said by way of a greeting. She held the door open wider so he could enter, but he remained in the hall.
“Briefly, and not by my choice. She pounced on me as I left my apartment and gave me a different version of the lecture Olivia gave me about you on Monday.”
Olivia had neglected to mention that, as had Liam. She could guess the nature of his family’s lectures, but she asked anyway. “Which was?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “My being with you is a terrible idea, and I’m an asshole and I’d better treat you right or else I have to answer to them, and so forth and so on.”
Marlena slid her arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure your mom didn’t call you an asshole.”
“Mom, no. Not in so many words. But she was very persuasive.”
“I love your mother. I used to wish she was my mother, too.”
He reached his hand up her skirt, worked his fingers under her panties, and took a firm hold of her backside. “That would have been really inconvenient for me.”
She would’ve thought that the staggering number of orgasms he’d wrung from her body that weekend would’ve tempered her need, but seeing him dressed up like a wolf in sheep’s clothing and the uncouth liberties his hands were taking had her hot and bothered in an instant.
She fingered the collar of his dress shirt. “I thought your mother told you to be a gentleman tonight.”
“This is me being a gentleman. Otherwise, you’d be on your knees right now.” He gave her ass a squeeze. “You’d better lock up so we can get out of here.”
She retreated into her apartment again. “I think I’d rather stay here.”
“Me, too. But ignoring what you need to do tonight isn’t going to do you any good.”
He was right, damn it, and so she grabbed her purse and the bottle of Cajun Devil hot sauce from the counter, then followed him out the door and locked up.
�
��What’s with the hot sauce?”
“Emergency backup, in case there isn’t any at my parents’ house.”
He cringed, then waved her in front of him on the stairs. “Is your mom that bad of a cook?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’m a hot sauce addict. When I’m stressed, it’s the only thing that calms me down.”
“You’re kidding,” he said.
“Nope. As a de-stressor, it works even better than yoga.”
“So, instead of taking you out for a drink right now, I should be taking you to The Wing Palace down on Bridgeton Avenue? That’s the place that puts a box of tissues on every table because everyone who eats their Fifth Circle of Hell Buffalo Wings starts to cry, right?”
“Oh my God, I love those Fifth Circle of Hell Wings.”
“This, I’ve got to see. Let’s go.”
The Wing Palace was one of Harper’s biggest competitors, so Marlena didn’t advertise that she frequented it, but as far as stress eating establishments went, it was second only to Pancho Pete’s in her book. A ten-dollar wristband got the wearer access to the unlimited chicken wings buffet. Besides boasting the hottest wings in town, they also carried a huge selection of beers on tap. Marlena wasn’t much of a beer drinker except at hockey games, but while dining on Fifth Circle of Hell Hot Wings, nothing else sufficed.
Liam took a nibble of one of the ultra-spicy wings, but devolved into a coughing fit. “How do you have any taste buds left?” he wheezed.
She slid a plate of celery toward him. “Here, palate cleanser.”
He chugged his beer and eyed the celery suspiciously. “Are you kidding me? That’s stuff’s only good as a paint color. But, listen, now that you’ve got a fair amount of hot sauce and beer in you, I have to ask: how did my mother find out I was going to your parents’ house for dinner?”
A fair question for as private a man as he was. “I told my mom so she could set another place at the table, and she told your mom when she called to ask if you had an apartment to rent to my brother.”
He cursed under his breath. “This is the first I’m hearing about that. What did she tell your mom?”
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