Speak of the devil. Mom came in the back door with the boys. She’d gone to Greg and Angie’s place to watch all the little ones today. The preschool was slowly working through the flu issues and hoped that everyone could come back next week. It seemed we weren’t the only ones concerned with this round of flu. Chuck came in lugging diaper bags and groceries.
“There’s more in the car,” he told me.
From the look of him, I decided I would let that slide and walked out and got the rest of the groceries. It did take me longer because I could only carry one bag at a time. Mom had put him to work helping her with the ankle-biters, so he wasn’t a great deal better off than I was.
Duke had gone with Dad and my grandma to be interviewed after she’d turned in the signatures and had them initially verified. I’d tipped off Jeff Delahey as to what we were up to, and he’d told his paper. They’d sent a photographer and a reporter to do a quick story. It wasn’t every day that a dog ran for office.
“Isn’t it racist to suggest that she can cook rice better than I can?” I asked as I put the last of the groceries on the counter.
When you try to be funny, not all your jokes work. Some unpleasant memories should never be thought of again. I pushed that one into a box and labeled it ‘Stupid Things to NEVER Say Again!’
The unfortunate truth was she did cook rice better than I did.
◊◊◊ Thursday October 20
When we picked up Brook, she was in a good mood.
“’Sup,” I said, trying to be gangster.
“He’s
“Guess what?” Brook said, ignoring me.
“Riverside has the flu, and they have to forfeit?” I guessed.
“It’s even better,” Brook said, then paused for dramatic effect. “Destiny went to State to a frat party.”
Brook shoved her phone in my face, and I burst out laughing. There was a series of pictures of Destiny passed out. They’d gotten out the magic markers and had drawn all over her face. Across her forehead, it said, ‘Slut!’ On her left cheek, someone had drawn a male member pointed at her mouth, and on the other cheek, it said, ‘I (heart sign) Dick!’
“Who gave this to you?” I asked.
I saw her glance towards the front seat, and I put two and two together. Don, Cassidy’s boyfriend and Destiny’s brother, must have taken the pictures and shared them with her.
“You can’t show these to anyone,” I said, making a leap of logic.
“Why not? The bitch deserves it,” Brook reasoned.
“Because you’ll be starting World War III at the Crown household. If my brother shared pictures of me with his girlfriend, and she, in turn, shared them with my worst enemy? See where I’m going with this?” I asked.
“But … this is just too good not to use,” Brook whined.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t use it. I want you to think it through. Just be absolutely sure that you find a way to not lose us Don. She’ll kill him if she figures out that he gave those pictures to anyone,” I said to Brook, and then looked at Cassidy. “And you, Young Lady, know better.”
If she planned to be in the personal protection business, her reputation had to be like that of a priest in a confessional. If she shared gossip, or in this case, embarrassing photos, she would be out of a job. I knew that was one of the first lessons Fritz had taught her.
“But I didn’t find out about this while I was working!” Cassidy deflected.
I looked at her sternly.
“You can’t use them. You have to delete the pictures,” Cassidy told Brook.
“No!”
If she’d done the foot stomp just a little better, she would have nailed an impression of my three-year-old niece.
◊◊◊
I sometimes wonder what drives the teenage girl’s mind. My girlfriend decided that if she couldn’t show anyone the pictures, she would let Destiny know that she’d seen the state Destiny was in last night. Destiny was obviously not feeling well from too much drink last night. That didn’t stop her from finding her brother and whaling on him. As you can imagine, he didn’t react well to that.
For the rest of us, all that was missing was popcorn so we could munch on some snacks while we enjoyed the show. Brook stood with her mouth open as Mr. Palm came out and dragged our entertainment to the office.
“Happy?” I asked her.
To Brook’s credit, she shook her head ‘no’ and rushed off to be alone. I probably should have chased after her, but I was decidedly
To compound the issue, he was also our backup tight end, and his size helped wherever he lined up. Much of this week’s game plan was to run the ball, and we needed his size for blocking. Many of my teammates came to the same realization.
“Did that just happen?” Ty asked.
He was the focus of this week’s running game, and losing Don wasn’t something he wanted to see.
“Yep. I’m afraid your job just got harder,” I observed.
“We’ll pick up the slack,” Johan assured Ty.
The bell rang to break up our pity party.
◊◊◊
