"My grandson is in the second grade. You've been such a help to him, I had to come say hello." She pauses, gives me a meaningful look. "I hear you've been getting somehelplately yourself. From Greyson?"
My cheeks flame, my smile glued on. "He's been helping with my house, yes."
"He's always beenhandy, that one--. He's quite a man, isn't he?" She says with a chuckle and a little waggle of her brows, then pats me on the arm. "Good for you, honey."
All I can do is blink at her.
"Anyway, just wanted to thank you for all your help with my grandson. You girls enjoy the rest of your day," she says and moves along.
I stare after her. Is she implying something sexual? Surely not.Surelythe little old lady didn't just suggest Grey has beenhandywith me. I'm about to ask Cass what she thinks when I catch the glare on her face, now pointed at the old lady.
Oh. Maybe she was.
I’m weightless, falling down the rabbit hole, caught in a dissociated haze. My only thoughts cycle between wondering if I should leave and not wanting to be where Grey isn't. It feels like it's either been hours or minutes. Mercifully, I manage to keep all my food inside my body. But dread twists through me, caging me tight.
When the team is finally through, Cass stands, so I do too.
"I swear, this town," Cass grumbles, packing up their things in the massive bag she brings to all the games. "Sometimes Ifucking hate it here. Come on--let's blow this popsicle stand." We begin to descend the bleachers, Cricket jumping from one down to the next, ignoring Cass's warnings. She sighs, shaking her head at the giggling first grader. Then takes a look at me and sobers.
"Dottie and Evelyn are just a couple of gossiping old biddies. Don't let them get to you."
"They weren't talking to me. They were talking to him."
"Sane thing," she says, squeezing my arm, then follows my gaze to the dugout where Grey is still talking to his team. We're all but alone, finally out of earshot. "So, are you gonna spill it or what? You have not answered any of my texts to my liking."
I chuckle. "Greedy."
She bumps into me playfully. "I mean it. I need details. The juicer the better."
"Well, it started with him teaching me softball and ended with him teaching me sex."
Cass almost chokes, ends up coughing for a second while I laugh at her. "You're fucking kidding me."
"I wouldneverkid about Grey's skills as an educator."
A cackle bursts out of her--she tamps it down when we draw even more attention than I'd already garnered on my own.
But I sober after a moment, watching him still from across the field. "But then…I don't know, Cass. It was all supposed to be no strings. There were all these rules. But we blew past them one by one until now…" I sigh. "This? The way people are behaving? This is what he was afraid of, come to life. And I…I don't know what happens. But I think something's going to happen. I just hope it's not whatI'mafraid of--that it'll be over."
A group of people laugh a little ways off, and when we look, their heads snap away to cover their gawking.
Anger threads through my dread. "Why do they care so much? All of this is their fault. All because they think I can'tmake decisions for myself. I'm not helpless. I'm not stupid. I'm notprey,for god's sake.
"I don't know. I'd say they were trying to look out for you, but I think they just enjoy feeling superior. Plus, the drama. I don't think it has a damn thing to do withyouat all."
"The things they said to him…" I shake my head. "Is that what we're bound for? They'll call him a predator and me a whore all because he's older than me?"
She shifts to face me, her brow and lips set, determined. "No. This is temporary. Whatever they say, whatever they do, it's all just killing time until the next thing comes along. All you have to do is survive it."
I sigh, exhausted. "Is that all?"
Cass lets out a sad little laugh through her nose and pulls me into her side. "Temporary. I promise--"
Before she can finish, someone behind us says, "Excuse me," from. me
An older man smiles gently at me, his eyes almost obscured by the bill of his faded baseball cap. "I think you mighta left this." In his extended hand is my yellow water bottle.
"Oh, thank you." I take it, smiling, expecting him to walk away. But he hesitates. There's something in his eyes--he'slookingat me. Somehow it's not creepy. Just intense. I pray to god he's not about to ask me about Grey. I don't think I can take it.
