I glance down at the pink panty strap fully visible on my hips. I could be in there wearing only a thong. What would he do then? He seemed anxious when he arrived and saw me dressed like this.
He’s probably a lost cause. I try to switch the idea to any of the other single men in the club. I’m slowly getting to know them.
Fancy isn’t too bad, named for the way he likes to dress. He’s thirty or so, with a curly mop of hair over a clean fade. He hasn’t looked my way, though, not even last night when we served beer on the back deck.
Hoss scares me just by his size. He could smash me into a wafer. But I’ll manage, I figure, if it ends up being him. He did fight Merrick for me.
I really don’t want to go with Chain. He’s always sweaty, with stringy gray hair. No, I can’t think about that.
It won’t be Iron Jack. He’s been clear about his disinterest. Betz and Carol like to talk about that. He will sometimes accept the gift of a call girl from another club when he’s visiting elsewhere, but he won’t take up with a regular woman and certainly not close to home.
Betz says he doesn’t want an ol’ lady. Carol thinks he never got over losing his mama.
He scares me, too. Although if he changed his mind about me, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. That man’s muscles have muscles.
I dump the last bag. If only Merrick would come around. But I sure don’t know how to seduce a man. I’ve already flashed my boobs at him twice.
My face heats thinking about it. I can’t seem to impress him, not even when I show off my stripper pole moves. Maybe he doesn’t like dancers. But it’s fun to do, and my stomach is getting taut as a trampoline.
“Stop daydreaming and load some beer into the coolers,” Betz snaps. “They have to be icy cold by the time church is over, or you’ll have a pissed-off club.”
I stuff the empty chip bags in the trash can and scurry to the pantry to lug out several cases of beer. We can’t keep enough in the fridge to be cold when the entire club is assembled.
“You know where the big ice maker is, hon?” Carol asks.
“Not yet.” It wasn’t on the quick tour Betz had given me yesterday before we prepped the burgers for Hoss to grill. I barely had time to pile my boxes and suitcases near my bunk in the big room full of narrow beds.
“It’s in a built-in on the far end of the porch, where they store the winter stuff like the fire bowls.” Carol waves toward the back door. “You’ll see the door. If it’s padlocked, let me know, and we’ll get you the key.”
“I unlocked it earlier,” Betz says.
I’m more than happy to lug the cases of beer outside and get away from their scrutiny. Betz was mad Celia was still in bed and not helping. There were other ol’ ladies, but they lived in their own homes, like Merrick, and not at the clubhouse. Even so, some of them ought to show and help out at times.
I set the beer by the coolers stacked along the wall. The morning is cool and clear. The back of the clubhouse is nice, with a wide wood deck running alongside the house.
There are a couple of steps down to a stone slab where three grills are set up. Then a huge patch of grass before the trees grow thick and heavy as the ground turns to swamp.
The air smells earthy and crisp. I breathe it in. This is better than the city, at least for a while. As long as I can put up with Betz, I can make it through the end of the school semester and however long it takes to finish my thesis.
I remember Merrick saying Iron Jack wouldn’t like me writing up the club’s business, but they don’t have to know. Most of them seem caught up in their own grievances. They won’t pay any more attention to me than staring at my ass.
I turn to the end of the deck and spot the door I hadn’t noticed in the dark last night.
Inside the small room is the whirring ice maker, plus a deep freezer and fire bowls alongside packs of fire starter sticks, charcoal, and cans of lighter fluid.
I open the deep freezer. It’s stacked from top to bottom with meat. Carol said we worked with a butcher since we needed so much.
The ice maker makes a crunching sound as it drops a load. I lift the metal lid. It’s full. Perfect.
The men will certainly grab their sandwiches and head out here, so I load the beer I brought into two of the coolers and wheel them closer to the ice.
It’s satisfying, filling in and around the bottles. I fetch two more cases. Better to have too many than too few. When all the coolers are full, I close up the room and head back to the kitchen.
Betz doesn’t look up as she says, “Carol had to lie down. Pains were coming. Cut up the tomatoes and make a pile of lettuce.”
“Is she in labor?”
“Nah, it’s those fake pains. She gets them pretty often.”
