Britches Get Stitches Page 2

  I sat down beside Lucy. “A box of old college basketball trophies I forgot in the attic and the rest of the stuff I got in the divorce. The record player and the vinyl collection. The KitchenAid mixer and the velvet Elvis. They’re really the only material objects in this den of sin worth fighting for.”

  “Not the velvet Elvis,” Monica said with a laugh.

  “Always the velvet Elvis.” I smiled and put my hand on Lucy’s. “I really just wanted you guys here for moral support.”

  Lucy smiled. “You’ve certainly got that.”

  “Thanks. I know I do.” I pointed toward the back door. “I also really want to move the pergola. Think I could strap it to the roof of my car?”

  “Jesus, Grace, do you want to go to jail?” Monica asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re so dramatic. They don’t send people to jail for moving pergolas.”

  “They will when it breaks loose on I-440 and kills a pedestrian!”

  “West says we can borrow his truck if you need to move anything big.” Lucy’s cheeks flushed at the mention of her new boyfriend’s name.

  “That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lucy,” I said.

  Monica leaned over the bar toward me. “You need to leave the pergola here. I know you love it, but you don’t have a yard at your apartment, remember?”

  I sighed. “You’re right.”

  “Grace, have you moved into your new place yet?” Olivia asked.

  “Last week, actually. It’s small, but I like it.”

  “She really likes not living with her parents anymore,” Monica added.

  “Definitely. I appreciate them letting me stay for a while, but it’s nice to be back in a home that’s mine. And it’s even nicer to only have to walk downstairs to go to work.”

  “I bet,” Olivia said. “I keep thinking about doing the same thing at the restaurant, but I’d have to buy the building first.”

  Olivia owned one of our favorite restaurants in East Nashville, a trendy farm-to-table place called Lettuce Eat. The names of her menu items were as creative as the food. My go-to dish lately was the smoked salmon with honey-glazed butternut squash. Or as she called it, Sofishticated.

  “Check the zoning laws before you build above the restaurant,” I warned. “We had to get a special permit.”

  “Good to know. So you own your building, then?” Olivia asked.

  “Sort of.” I looked up as Zoey put a piece of chocolate cake down in front of me. “Thanks, Zo.”

  “You’re welcome, Grace.”

  I picked up a fork. “My parents own that section of the building. Mom ran a bridal salon out of it before she retired. I’ll inherit it someday, but for now, they rent it to me for far less than it’s worth.”

  And I could hardly pay that.

  Olivia looked impressed as she picked up a slice of cake. “That’s nice.”

  “It is. Trust me, I know how fortunate I am.”

  “I need to stop by and see your shop,” Lucy said.

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Why? You’re not thinking about babies already, are you?”

  “Noooo,” Lucy said, dramatically drawing out the word. “Grace is my friend, and I want to be supportive.”

  Olivia looked at me. “She’s thinking about babies.”

  I groaned and reached for the champagne bottle again. “Ugh.”

  “No.” Monica snatched the bottle out of my reach. “You’ve got to drive home sooner or later, and we have practice tomorrow.”

  I frowned, but I knew she was right.

  “Your first practice without me and The Prodigy,” Zoey said, smiling at Olivia.

  “You can really stop calling me that. The Prodigy wouldn’t have been my derby name even if I was playing.” Olivia took the champagne and refilled her glass. “And Zoey, you’ll make the team on your next go round. We all know you will.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed.

  Zoey smiled. “I know I’ll make it eventually. I won’t quit.”

  I glared at Olivia. “Like some people.”

  She shrugged. “I was there to help Lucy. She made the team, so mission accomplished.”

  “We’ll really miss skating with you,” Monica said.

  Lucy wilted in her seat. “Seriously miss you.”

  “It’s not like I won’t be involved with the team. You guys will see me at the awards thing next month,” Olivia said.

  My head tilted. “The what?”

  “Oh! I forgot to tell you.” Monica slapped her own forehead. “The Slammy Awards has been scheduled for the first weekend of December. Shamrocker told me to tell you we are invited.”

  “What are the Slammy Awards?” I asked.

  “It’s the team’s annual awards-night celebration,” Zoey said.

  Monica nodded. “There was a post about it on the app, and I asked Shamrocker if it was open to us newbies too.”

  “We have an app?” This was all news to me, but to be fair, I’d been so consumed with the finalization of my divorce that I was lucky to have passed my basic-skills test.

  “I just found out about the awards this week too,” Lucy added.

  “Are you and West going?”

  “Yeah. They do some sort of appreciation thing for all the team sponsors.” Lucy’s new boyfriend, West Adler, was one of the biggest donors for our team. To say it had caused some drama when they started dating was an understatement.

  I wrinkled my nose. “It’s a couples’ thing?”

  Monica put her hand on my arm. “If you go, I’ll tell Derek to stay at home.”

  “Aww, Monica.” I formed my fingers into the shape of a heart. “Thank you, but Derek should be there. He’s sacrificed a lot of time with you for the sake of the sport. It’s only right to let him have some fun with it too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” I cut another bite of cake with the side of my fork. “Besides, who knows? Maybe I’ll ditch my therapist’s advice and find myself a date.”

  Monica smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  “I’ll be there too,” Zoey added with a bright smile. “I’m volunteering as an NSO, non-skating official, until the next round of Fresh Meat. And they invited all the volunteers.”

  Lucy clapped her hands. “Yay! The whole group together at derby again.”

  “Here, here,” Olivia said, holding up her glass.

  “So you and Styx are good?” I pointed my fork at Olivia. “Things looked a little tense with you two at the Monster’s Brawl.”

  She shrugged. “We’re OK now, I think. I got a little too excited that night about seeing an old friend of mine—Hale Damage, your coach for the B-team, the Rising Rollers.”

  “You know Hale Damage?” Zoey asked, surprised.

  “We went to college together, but we lost touch. I heard she played a while ago, but I didn’t know she was still there.”

  “It didn’t come up with you and Styx?” Monica asked. “You’ve been seeing her for weeks.”

  Lucy grinned over a bite of cake. “She and Styx haven’t done a lot of talking since they’ve been together.”

  Olivia pointed at her. “You’re one to talk, Ms. Screwing-Around-with-a-Team-Sponsor.”

  Lucy’s cheeks flushed again. “Yeah.”

  “And yes, we did talk about Styx’s friend Hale Damage”—Olivia said with extra emphasis—“but I didn’t know what Haley’s derby name was. And she wasn’t at any of the practices when I was there.”

  “She travels a lot with her job,” Zoey said.

  “I know that now.” Olivia turned back to me. “Anyway, Haley and I have some history, and it didn’t go over very well with Styx. We’re working through it though.”

  “Look at you. Not even on the team and still causing shit.” I playfully shoved Olivia’s arm, but it threw me off-balance on my chair instead. I caught the edge of the countertop and laughed. “Whoa. Yeah, no more booze for me.”

  Bodhi scratched the back door, and I moved carefully off my stool and
across the room to let him back inside. “Good boy,” I said, scratching his ear as he trotted through the door.

  “Weren’t you guys fighting over the dog in the divorce?” Lucy asked. “Who won?”

  I scowled and sat cross-legged on the floor with Bodhi. “Clay did.” I patted the hardwood and Bodhi flopped down beside me. “Word of advice, if you ever want to have dual ownership of something, don’t give it as a gift for a birthday or a holiday. Bodhi was a birthday present.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” Zoey said.

  Monica nudged her with her elbow. “Yeah, but Grace’s anniversary diamond was also a gift. A two-carat gift.”

  I raked my nails through Bodhi’s fluffy golden fur. “I’d rather have my dog, even if I did sell the ring to pay off my car.” I kissed the top of his head and tears threatened to spill again.

  “Enough sadness already!” Olivia theatrically gripped the sides of her head. “Geez. I’m going to slit my own wrists over here!”

  I cracked a smile and the tingling of my tear ducts faded.

  “She’s right.” Monica walked over and stood in front of me. “No more tears tonight.” She reached down, grabbed both my arms, and hauled me up to my feet. “Come on. This is a party. Let’s celebrate by hiding these damn eggs all over the cheating bastard’s house and praying for maggots!”

  Two hours later, there were twelve hard-boiled eggs stashed ingeniously around the house. Two were sewn inside the frame of the sofa. One was hidden in the pillow headrest of Clay’s recliner. Two were behind the drawers inside his desk. One was carefully placed inside each of the four hollow wooden legs of our farmhouse bed. One was in the mattress. And the remaining two were brilliantly hidden by Monica inside the hollow decorative balls that capped the ends of the curtain rod.

  Olivia had marked each egg with a letter. And someday, if Clay ever found them all, he’d be able to spell out exactly what we all called him many times during our malevolent game of egg-hunt revenge. A twelve-letter name that rhymes with Mother Trucker.

  The only time I cried was saying goodbye to Bodhi. As I crouched and hugged him at the door, I lost it when he laid his snout across my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you here with that awful man.”

  Monica reached down and gently took my arm. “It’s going to be all right, Grace. You’ve got to let him go.”

  When I stood, I realized all the girls were teary-eyed as well. Zoey was flat-out crying for me. I dried my eyes on my sleeve and sniffed back painful sobs. We walked outside, and Bodhi whimpered as I closed the door behind us.

  I froze and shook my head. “No. Screw this.”

  Throwing the door open again, I marched back inside. Bodhi jumped up and down like I’d been gone a year.

  “Grace?” Monica asked cautiously.

  “Someone come help me grab his bowls!” I called out.

  “Yes!” Olivia cheered. “I’m coming!” She and Lucy ran in after me as I grabbed Bodhi’s leash and a few toys from the laundry room.

  “Come on, boy.” I snapped the leash to his collar, and he trotted outside beside me.

  Zoey’s wet, red eyes were now wide and frightful as I led my dog to the car. “Is this a good idea?”

  I laughed as I opened the door to the back seat and Bodhi jumped in beside the record player. “Are you kidding? This is the best idea I’ve ever had.”

  She looked down the street like the cops might already be on their way to haul us all downtown.

  Olivia handed me the dog’s bowls, and Lucy was behind her with both arms wrapped around a giant bag of all-natural, no-additives dog food. My choice, not Clay’s.

  “Thank you,” I said, putting the bowls and food in the passenger’s seat up front.

  “Are you sure about this?” Monica asked hesitantly as I straightened out of the car.

  I took a deep breath and held it for a second. “You know, I’ve slept alone for the past six months. Completely not by my choice. That stops now. Even if only for tonight.”

  “Clay’s going to be pissed.”

  I smiled up at the star-speckled sky. “I hope he is.”

  Two

  All hell was about to break loose.

  That was evident from the buzzer sounding through my apartment, ripping me from the shallow dreams I’d just drifted off to. I rolled over and grabbed my phone. It was 12:47 a.m., and there were three missed calls and five text messages.

  Very funny. Bring Bodhi back now.

  What were you thinking?

  You know what the judge said.

  Are you going to make me call the cops???

  Damn it, Grace.

  All from Clay.

  Someone pounded on the door downstairs.

  I groaned and pushed myself up. My head throbbed. Definitely too much wine. Bodhi barked and darted off the bed, his back paws sliding with the comforter. He nearly face-planted on the floor, but he recovered and scrambled out of the room.

  As I trudged across the room, I grabbed the short, fuzzy pink bathrobe hanging on the door to my bathroom. There was no way in hell I was about to confront my demon ex wearing a see-through tank top.

  I crept to my front window to see exactly what I was in for. Was it just Clay or was Dr. Vagina and the swollen uterus in tow as well?

  “Shit.”

  It was the cops. A white and blue Metro patrol car sat at the curb in front of my store downstairs. The rest of Twenty-First Avenue looked mostly empty.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I was wringing my hands as I shuffled in my socks back to the foyer. I pressed the button on the wall for the call box to the front door downstairs. “Hello?”

  “Grace, it’s Jason. Open the door.”

  My head snapped back. Jason Bradley was Clay’s best friend and old roommate from college. “Clay called you?”

  “Would you rather him call the station? Let me in.”

  “Are you here to arrest me?”

  “Of course not.”

  With a groan, I pressed the button to unlock the outside door. There was another loud buzz and then heavy footsteps on my stairs. He knocked, and I bent to grab Bodhi’s collar with one hand as I pulled open the door with the other. When I looked up, I froze.

  I’d rarely ever seen Jason in his black uniform, and I hadn’t seen him at all in well over a year. Since before the separation and before Clay’s schedule got so busy juggling a job, a wife, and a mistress.

  As I straightened, I gathered the neckline of my robe that was gaping in the front. “What are you doing here?”

  His brow crumpled, and he folded his thick arms over his plated chest. “You know what I’m doing here. And you’re lucky it’s me and not someone else. Clay’s really pissed.”

  “Good! That was kind of the idea.”

  “Grace, it’s in the divorce decree. He could legally press charges.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You and I both know he doesn’t have the balls for that. If he did, he’d have to explain to even more people what he did to me.”

  Jason’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he reached down and scratched Bodhi behind the ears. The dog’s tail whipped from side to side so violently I worried he might dislocate a hip.

  “How’d you get involved in this anyway?” I asked.

  “Clay called me wanting advice. He said Ginny—”

  “Dr. Vagina,” I corrected.

  His mouth twitched again. “She wanted to have you arrested.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “They could have, you know? Like it or not, Bodhi belongs to Clay now. This is theft.”

  “Are you going to take him?” I asked, emotion rising in my throat.

  Jason’s face softened. “No. I told Clay I’d talk to you, and for him to come get Bodhi in the morning. Try not to make a big deal out of it.”

  “But this is a big deal. You know it is.”

  “Just don’t make this worse for yourself, Grace. Please.”

>   Nausea churned in my stomach. Maybe it was the wine, but I doubted it.

  “Sorry you have to be involved in this mess, Jason.”

  He stopped petting Bodhi. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through it. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

  I knew that already, but it was nice to hear it from someone in Clay’s camp. Before I could thank him, Bodhi took off through the space between Jason’s legs and the front door frame.

  I sighed. “He thinks it’s time to go out and potty.” Bodhi’s heavy paws thudded down the hollow stairs in the hall.

  “I can take him out if you want,” he offered.

  “Thanks, but I can do it. You’ve handled enough of our shit tonight.”

  He cracked a grin, and I stuffed my feet into the fuzzy UGG boots sitting in the foyer. I grabbed Bodhi’s leash off the hook on the wall, then followed Jason out into the hall. Bodhi was whining at the bottom of the stairs as I closed the door behind us.

  “I guess it would be pretty dumb to ask how you’ve been,” he said.

  “I’m better now than I was. Honestly, I’m just glad it’s over. It’s been a long year. How are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you since…”

  “Clay’s birthday trip to Tahoe.”

  “Has it been that long?”

  “A year and half.”

  I hooked the leash to Bodhi’s collar before pushing the downstairs door open. Just as the cold air hit my bare legs, I straightened and patted the empty pockets of my robe. “Oh no.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  I looked up the steps. “I think I just locked myself out of my apartment.”

  Dragging Bodhi behind me, I jogged back up. Sure enough, the knob lock was engaged. I thumped my forehead against the door.

  When I turned back to look down the stairs, Jason was biting down on the insides of his lips to keep from laughing.

  I trudged back down. “Don’t say a word.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” But he did crack a grin.

  Bodhi barked and scratched at the door. Jason pulled it open for us, and the biting cold air blew through the slit in my robe. “Is it safe to close this door? I’d hate for you to be trapped on the street.”