“And I care because…?”
“Same connections as us, so we have to play nice or it could get ugly real fast.”
“Got it.” I stick my hands into my pockets and bump into plastic boxes. I pull out toy poodles with pink bows and hold one in each hand. “I’m gonna go to jail for stealing toys.”
“Why would you steal toys?” Dawson asks. He’s definitely calling the shrink.
“Tammy’s got two girls. Duh. I bought them toys, and she has to play nice now.”
“That’s a dirty tactic, Cap. Bribing the kids is the dirtiest of all dirties.”
I wink. “Whatever it takes.” I grab two boxes of pizza and open them. Ham and pineapple, two combinations on a pizza I wouldn’t eat unless I was in a Pakistani prison and they haven’t fed me for thirty days, but hey, maybe Tammy will eat it. I grab my phone, prepare to dial, realize I don’t have her number.
Senator spits out the digits off the top of his head.
Do you see why my men are the best? Do you? They are. “Thanks, man,” I say when Tammy answers.
“What kind of pizza you like?” I ask.
“Hi, Reed.”
“Hi.” I roll my eyes. Why do we need to say hi or hello or hey or good morning when that crap is self-explanatory? Why can’t we all just shoot for the point of the conversation and end it in five seconds? “What kind of pizza you like?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I don’t want to come over empty-handed.”
“You’re not coming over, Reed.”
She knows I’m coming. “What kind of pizza is it, Tammy?”
“Ham and pineapple.”
“Good. See ya soon.”
“Bring beer, but nothing for my girls, or I swear I’ll shoot you on the doorstep.” She hangs up.
I grin wide and look at the guys, my dick getting hard at what she said. “She wants to shoot me.”
“I’m calling the shrink.”
“Bye!”
It’shard for me to sit still. I’ve been that way since I was a child. I was always on the move, and in high school, I stayed there allday and late into the night practicing either football or baseball, sometimes even basketball before riding my bicycle home.
That one spring after I stole the Mustang, my dad let me drive his car even though I didn’t have a permit. The sheriff knew but looked the other way, and with the car, I moved faster from point A to point B and stayed up longer practicing.
The wind blowing in my face reminds me to enjoy the moment. I force myself to slow down, inhale a lungful of fresh air. Instead of prowling to her house, I stroll, letting my mind drift away even if only for a few minutes so I don’t walk into her house with an aggressive, agitated energy because someone outbid me on the house last minute, and the Suit wants to pull the keys right out from under my nose.
If he succeeds, it will mean another few weeks of living in the cramped motel room and engaging in a back-and-forth with Tammy convincing her that I’m staying for good.
I’ll have to prove I’m settling down here. She won’t let me near the kids if I don’t, and I’m a bastard for forcing my way into her life with nothing to show her that would make her feel more comfortable with me. She’ll have to trust me, which is a stretch since she doesn’t know me.
At the door, I shake off my worries about the house and knock with the pack of beer ’cause I don’t have a spare hand. Beside me, I notice an old metal swing, same model as the one I remember from my parents’ house out here. It needs a paint job, but this metal piece is sturdy and can survive for generations. When my parents left, they didn’t take theirs with them.
I knock again. “Open up, Tammy.”
The door opens a tiny bit, and I stop myself before barging in when I look down and see a small blue eye peek up through the opening.
