Play Fling

by Amber Scott

  Millie scooped Brooke out of Elliott’s hold and lowered her to the floor. She pinned him with an icy enough look, he assumed she shared Brooke’s low opinion of him. Girls talk. Great.

  “Do something,” Millie ordered.

  He let go and strode to the kitchen. Mrs. Munkle was pulling the turkey out of the lower oven. She met him with wide eyes as he explained. Turkey settled, Nancy stuffed a towel full of ice and scurried after him.

  Brooke lay against Millie, covering her nose and moaning. Crimson red blood seeped between her fingers, oozing down. Dripping everywhere. Elliott wobbled. The room tipped. A gag curled inside his mouth. Not now! He struggled to squat down and hand the towel over. Not in front of Brooke. His dad’s favorite joke echoed in his head. “He’ll never be a doctor. Not a nurse either. (hearty chuckle) Better hope you can talk a candy striper into marrying you, son. You’ll need…,” the blurring room swallowed him up.

  Millie could scream. “He did not just pass out, did he?” If this day got any worse—how, she didn’t know—she would shred the rose wallpaper with her stubby nails.

  “Oh dear, I think he did.” Nancy wrung her hands and stared at AJ who barely hid gut busting laughter.

  Brooke was staring switchblades at her. A timer in the kitchen bleated over and over again. And they all lived happily ever after.

  “Hi there,” Nancy said, a little giggly herself.

  Crap.

  “AJ, meet Nancy. Nancy, this is AJ.” She almost forgot. “My boyfriend. Brooke said one more stray was okay.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course. Welcome, AJ.” The woman’s poor cheeks splotched like the fourth of July. “Wonderful to meet you. Now, could you be a dear and help me with this one?”

  With a nod, AJ came around Millie and dragged Elliott to the living room. One Nancy shriek and a few crowd bellows later, AJ returned to do the same for Brooke. Except, he carried her.

  Millie wished AJ could drag her away, too. What a mess. What was Brooke doing talking to Elliott? After hours of recognizance, Millie’d been certain Brooke hadn’t seen the guy in days, and only had the one brief encounter. Had Brooke known he’d be here? No. Couldn’t be. She’d blanched ghost white when she’d seen Elliott.

  She had to stay calm. She needed to think.

  If only Brooke had revealed what had happened between them. Something definitely happened. But, Brooke wasn’t friggin’ talking. Millie had to maintain the proximity factor with Jason, not Elliott. And who in the hell was Jason kissing?

  Surely, Elliott hadn’t made the impact Millie feared. Brooke had gotten upset about the kiss after all. Excellent progress. If Millie could have just kept Elliott and Brooke apart five more stupid minutes.

  Too late now.

  She had to keep cool. Attend to matters at hand. “Mrs. Munkle, can you—.”

  “Nancy,” Mrs. Munkle interrupted. “Call me Nancy, dear.”

  Jesus. “Nancy, can you help me get Brooke cleaned up? I’m sure one of these fine male specimens can tend to the turkey, maybe turn that timer off?”

  “Oh yes, of course. Jason, could you be a dear?” Nancy said, hands aflutter.

  Millie swore, one more “dear” out of the woman, she might end the holiday in the clink instead of at home mulling over her notes.

  She helped Brooke walk, thinking fast. What went wrong and how? Okay. They’d not only seen each other, they’d talked. If they kept seeing each other, a one night stand risked becoming much more. Worse, Brooke had been injured. Elliott attempted to play hero and now he’d gone and passed the F out and Brooke might get a dose of Florence Nightingale syndrome. Great. If Elliott turning up sent Brooke back into his arms, well, she’d have to do something drastic.

  In the bathroom, Millie sat Brooke onto the toilet lid. Nancy soon left to get Brooke a new blouse as Millie dabbed at the blood with a wet cloth.

  “How bad is it?” Brooke asked.

  “You’re going to have two black eyes.” Millie’s mind pounded with guilt over what happened. This was her fault. She’d been distracted and didn’t make sure Brooke followed her out. “I am afraid it may be broken.”

  “Fabulous.” Brooke teared up. “That’s all I need right now. To look like someone kicked my ass.” She laughed. It didn’t sound sincere. “Actually, this fits perfectly. I feel beat up, why not look it, too?”

  That was one hot statement to pounce on.

  “Whoa. Hey, I know Jason bringing someone home to meet mom is hard.” Man, oh man, did she ever. Maybe AJ could work some mojo on Jason and Brooke despite this door to the face fiasco. “It’s gotta be hard. You two had to be very much in love to last so long.”

  As far as Millie could calculate, whoever had Jason sprung up must be new on the scene. His file showed zero signs of an affair. If she played this new love twist right, maybe it would help, not hurt. Brooke had definitely come back out red-eyed.

  Brooke moaned.

  “Try not to move.”

  “Sorry. I’m new at having my face bashed in.” A tear slid down Brooke’s cheek.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Millie said. “This is all my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have been standing there like a big mumbling dummy.”

  Nancy came back in. “Brooke, dear. I don’t have much but this should fit, and if I’m right, the color will really bring out the green in your eyes.” Nancy billowed a frilled, multi-colored shirt open, beaming.

  Millie turned to hide her gag. How in the world could that God-awful shirt bring out anyone’s eyes? The pattern looked like sofa roadkill. Not even Elliott could find Brooke hot in... hmmm. Nice. The shirt might actually help. Three points to Nancy. Good form.

  Millie smiled, ignoring Brooke’s pleading look in those blackening eyes.

  “I can’t remember this much excitement on Thanksgiving since the year my water broke with Walter.” Nancy’s joy chimed in her voice. She hummed and fussed around the small pine scented space. “Oh, what a glorious day that was. My own little holiday miracle.”

  Was this woman for real? Millie didn’t know moms like her really existed outside of the Brady Bunch. Nancy made Carol Brady look like the Wicked Witch.

  “But don’t you worry, Brooke,” Nancy said. “We’ll get you fixed up then we’ll eat and have dessert. And we’ll all have a good laugh. You’ll see. Jason will take good, good care of you.” Her hand went to her mouth but the gasp snuck by. “Oh dear, listen to me ramble. You know we’ll take care of you, Jason or not, don’t you. I didn’t mean anything by that, Brooke.”

  “I know you didn’t, Nancy.” Brooke clasped the older woman’s hand.

  Nancy looked about to cry, too.

  Brooke’s make-up was officially shot. Good. Jason would see her, want to rescue her. Nancy was clearly an ally. Millie figured they’d go out, Elliott would feel stupid for fainting, asinine for chasing a woman twice his age who clearly belonged elsewhere. Nowhere near Brooke. He didn’t belong in this world. He belonged at a keg party. “It’s definitely a story,” Millie injected.

  She wondered what he’d said to Brooke before Millie opened that door. Forget it. Better to assume the worst. A date. A second encounter. For the hundredth time she wished she had already learned AJ’s talent. All this would be far easier if she could witness love chemicals in the air like he did.

  “I’m not going to say I haven’t hoped,” Nancy continued. Millie’s neck tightened but her ears perked up. “I have, Brooke. You and Jason were meant for each other. I’ve always said so.”

  “Oh, Nancy.” Brooke hugged the older woman.

  Nancy’s dam broke. She began to cry in earnest. Millie stepped back. This was getting far too emotional for comfort, regardless of how much it might help.

  “When I asked Jason to invite you, well, I admit it. I did have ulterior motives. I hoped if you two got a chance to get some time apart…to think… to miss each other. Then if you came back grown and matured. You’d both see.”


  Millie stifled a gasp.

  Brooke’s tears looked to have dried up. “Oh, Nancy. I’m so sorry. I do miss you all. More than you can know. And I have missed Jason. How could I not? He was my best friend for fifteen years.” No, wait, tears on. “I didn’t just lose my husband. I lost my best friend.”

  “Well.” Nancy wiped her face. Her tone changed. “Actually, you didn’t lose him, dear. Let’s not forget. He lost you. We all did. You left him, remember?”

  Brooke’s intake of air hissed in the sudden shocked silence. Millie braced herself, unable to look away.

  Brooke got to her feet. “Actually, I do remember, Nancy. I remember being stuck in a farce of a marriage.” She stabbed the air with her finger. “If only he’d been cheating on me. That would have made sense.” She yanked off her bloodied blouse and took Nancy’s, shoving her head through, impressively avoiding her swollen face. “Cheating, somehow, would have been easier. Something to point to and say, see? I’m not crazy. We don’t work. But he didn’t cheat on me. You raised him better than that.”

  Nancy’s hands clasped over her chest. “I will not fight with you, Brooke. I know, I shouldn’t have said a word.” She looked stricken. “I promised myself I wouldn’t and so, you’ll just have to ignore my big butinski nose. When you have kids of your own one day, you’ll understand.”

  “When I what?” Brooke’s hands flew to her hips. Nancy’s mouth made like a fish but no words came out. Before Brooke asked her question again, Nancy promptly left the room. The door swung open where she’d stood, the noise of football filtered through to them.

  Millie realized her hands were holding up thin air and the bloody towel. She put them behind her. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “That, Millie, was classic Nancy Munkle, mistress of passive aggression.” Brooke faced the mirror and blanched at her reflection. Gingerly, she touched her nose. “Kids! I can’t believe she has the gall to bring up kids.”

  “Touchy subject?”

  “I’m thirty-seven, Millie. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Nancy used to stalk Jason over when we were going to start a family. It got so bad, he yelled at her over dinner once.”

  Millie shrugged. Not so bad. Lots of families yelled. This uber repressed one could, too.

  “In public.”

  Oh. “I see.” Kind of. “You two didn’t want kids?”

  “I don’t know, Millie.” Brooke sat on the sink’s edge. “Looking back now, I think I did want kids. I mean do, I still want kids. If that’s even possible. Maybe I just didn’t want kids with him.”

  Yikes. Millie had to hit reverse fast. This dark alley was not where she wanted to go. She plucked Brooke’s couch patterned sleeve. “Remind me to ask Nancy where she finds such interesting fashion.”

  Brooke smiled, relief showing in her puffy eyes. “Don’t be jealous. You too can pass for furniture. Just be lucky enough to get on her Christmas list. I’d give it one more conversation and she’ll be asking your size.”

  “Don’t jinx me.” Seeing the Brooke she knew and loved returning, Millie’s hopes flounced back to life. No more of the watery eyed poor me girl from a moment ago. “I don’t mean to be dense here, but, are we getting the hell out of here now?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elliott doubted a more emasculating reaction to an injured woman existed. Running, flailing his arms, screaming like a little girl wouldn’t be as embarrassing. He’d actually fainted. And a table full of witnesses took turns making certain he knew. Brooke’s opinion of him must be really skyrocketing.

  First, he chickens out of calling her, then before he can undo the damage, bam. To the floor. At least he still had some appetite left because Nancy had insisted he stay and eat.

  Stay? Absolutely. So long as Brooke was still there, every man present, and he counted eleven, couldn’t drag him away. Well, unless one of them started bleeding.

  Brooke had nearly gotten away before dinner, too. Thankfully, Nancy nixed that idea fast. Her friend, Millie, was fuming over it, too.

  “Now, Elliott, tell me,” Nancy said between forkfuls. “Where is your family this holiday?”

  Elliott considered the question a moment. Should he lie? Give her the polite but vague answer? No one here knew him except Gordon. Sure, Gordon was hoping for a future among them but by the looks of things, that red box wasn’t getting opened today. “My brothers both had to work today,” Elliott said. “My father is currently incarcerated and my mom passed away six years ago.”

  Nancy covered her gasp with her napkin, probably preventing her food from launching out, too. “Oh, you poor, poor dear,” she said then visibly swallowed. “Well, let me say I am so sorry for your loss and that you are welcome in my home any holiday. Your brothers, too. Must be difficult, being separated like you are during the holidays.”

  A couple of throats cleared. Stilled forks began resuming on plates. Elliott didn’t mind. He couldn’t blame people for not knowing how to react.

  “It can be,” he said. “It’s hard on my dad. But the three of us will get to see him tomorrow. We’ll have some turkey, some pumpkin pie.”

  Of all the opinions rapidly forming in the room, he only cared about Brooke’s. He chanced a glance her way. Her head was down. But she was listening. He could see it in the slower way she moved. Softer than before. “We do the best we can,” he said, wishing she’d look at him.

  “What’s your dad in for?” Millie asked.

  Elliott moved his gaze to her. Animosity glared back at him. If he’d wondered if Brooke told her, now he knew. “Armed robbery,” he answered, not intimidated. “Two more years and he’s eligible for parole.”

  An “oh my”, a snort, a cough, more nods invaded the silence. Brooke rotated her fork, again and again. She had to want to look his way. Who wouldn’t? In turns, he felt every pair of eyes in the room take his measure. Was he lying? Was he a criminal like his father?

  “He’ll be welcome here, too, when he gets out, Elliott,” Nancy said. “I’d love to meet a man who obviously did a fine job in life if he got a son like you out of it.”

  She’d had known him all of three hours, but Elliott believed her. She didn’t welcome people because it was her Christian duty. She wasn’t naively looking the other way. Simple faith in people. Rare, but true in her case.

  “Now Gordon, you’re Elliott’s cousin paternally or maternally?” Nancy asked.

  His cousin shifted in his seat. “Maternally. Our mother’s were—are—sisters.”

  Jason’s coming out announcement, which Gordon had called Elliott incessantly about for a week, looked to be canceled. Instead of less, Gordon seemed more agitated, though. Elliott imagined he should be.

  Elliott needed Gordon to relax. Getting up and storming out would only put Jason on the spot. And leaving now just wasn’t a consideration. Not with this much damage control ahead of Elliott. He didn’t miss Brooke’s friend’s constant watch checking. She and her newly arrived boyfriend kept exchanging subtle looks and head shakes.

  First opportunity, Millie’d be dragging Brooke away from him. Out of his life. Brooke leaving might not be as final as forever, but it felt possible. He should have called her. He knew that. A short note was no way to leave her for five days. He knew better. Tell that to the knots tied up inside him. He had hoped in taking a few days, he’d unravel them. They’d only tightened and tangled.

  Not enough to stop him from approaching her today, though. She drew him right back in, alluring and mysterious. Despite how foreign his reaction felt.

  Just looking at her sitting three chairs away made the room fade. The line of her jaw lured his attention. The light against her skin. Glowing warmth beneath cool aloofness. Jesus. What had he sunken into? How could she make it so hard to breathe?

  “Speaking of sisters,” Nancy said, pulling Elliott’s attention back. “Jason, have you spoken with your Aunt Sheila recently?”

  Like a spell broken, everyone sagged a bit and fell into conversation. Small talk a
nd chit chat, the focus off of him. Elliott hadn’t realized the mention of his mother had caused such a silence until it dissipated. He peered at Brooke. She chewed. Her nostrils flared. Her fork trembled in her hand.

  Because of him? Did she feel what he did? The invisible tug?

  Look at me. One glance. One tiny peek my way.

  How could he get her alone? What could he say to erase the last five days once he did?

  “I forgot to tell you, Elliott,” Gordon said, ire lacing his tone. “You owe me much bigger than you let on.”

  He looked at Gordon. “What do you mean?”

  “Michelle? The favor?”

  “Oh that.” He’d given Gordon’s number to Michelle, for the car help. “How’d it go?” He might have thrown his cousin under the bus on that one. He deserved it after what he’d pulled at the mall and all his damned phone calls this week. Elliott couldn’t help grinning. “Did you two hit it off?”

  Gordon huffed. “She thinks we did. She must be some kind of hung up on you to be trying to use me to make you jealous.”

  Elliott laughed out loud. “What did she do?”

  “More like, what didn’t she do? Everything except rape.”

  If the body language was any indicator, their table neighbors were catching the conversation. No biggie. In fact, Brooke overhearing might aid the cause. “Michelle’s a little obsessed.”

  “Yeah, to say the least.” Gordon’s voice rose with his emphasis. He began including everyone in on the story. “First, this girl uses me to get her car looked at for practically nothing, then she grills me about Elliott. Your childhood, your family, the works.” He paused to drink his wine.

  “Sorry. I should have warned you.”

  “Yes, you should have. She even started throwing herself at me. Can you believe that? She was like a groupie trying to get a back stage pass.”

  Elliott chuckled again. Nice. If he’d had doubts over his instincts about Michelle, he didn’t any longer. “How’d you manage to peel her off of you?”

  By now, Jason had perked up. “Peel who off you?” Jealousy hinted in his tone.