“I’m supposed to know that why?” Cubby said.
“I guess, considering you brought her back, and all that Alessi stuff, maybe you’ve been liaising with her.”
“I haven’t seen her. You?”
“She came in for a coffee and muffin yesterday.” Buster made a small humming sound that was usually an indication he wasn’t happy. “She looked off.”
“Off?”
“Pale, jittery almost.”
“Having an Italian crime family putting a hit out on you could make you jittery, is my guess.”
“Guess. Just worries me, you know. I remember the old Katie. She was always smiling, laughing. Happiest girl I knew.”
She was, Cubby acknowledged. “It’ll take time for her to get over what’s happened, Buster. You remember Jake; we just have to support her and be there.”
“Fucking McBrides. If you didn’t love them you’d be done with them.”
“Sounds about right.”
The park was out of town and along the lake and a place where families could picnic or lovers could neck. The town often hosted events here, but today his friends were already throwing a ball around.
“That’s gotta hurt,” Buster said as he pulled his old Jeep to a stop behind Geraldine, Branna’s Mustang. He and Cubby had just watched Jake dive at Newman and the latter hit the ground hard.
“Newman will whine about that for hours.”
Cubby loved a game with his friends. It was usually dirty and physical, and he never tired of it.
“Maybe we should give him something else to whine about,” Buster added as they climbed out.
Someone had placed a cooler filled with beers in the shade, and beside it, a container loaded with food was added, courtesy of Buster.
“Be alert, the local constabulary has arrived,” Tex drawled as Newman peeled himself off the ground with his ribs now relocated in his ass.
“Your ass is mine, McBride!”
“Now, now, Newman, just because you haven’t caught any lately, no need to go after mine.”
“Hate that dry spell shit, bud.” Cubby slapped Newman on the shoulder. “But happens to everyone when your looks start to deteriorate. I hear she dumped you right here in town.”
“My looks are a class above you fuckers,” Newman wheezed as he braced his hands on his knees and tried to inhale. “They improve with age, and on the hot meter, I’m off the charts. Bonnie just didn’t understand the prize she was giving up.”
Everyone hooted denials over this.
“Faith said she was gonna skin me if I came back with another black eye, because it scares the customers.”
Noah Harris had been playing ball with them since school. Big and tanned, his Native American heritage was there in the lines of his face and coloring.
“Maybe you should sit this out then, bud, if you’re scared we may ugly you up a bit,” Buster said.
“At least some of us got something to work with, baker boy. You were bashed with the ugly stick at birth.”
“Willow doesn’t think so.”
“Willow doesn’t think so,” Tex mimicked.
This smack talk was the foreplay to the actual game, and always had been an integral part of proceedings. The teams had stayed predominately the same, with a few changes in personnel over the years. Cubby, Newman, and Tex versus Jake, Buster, and Noah.
