Roper shook his head. “You can have them.”
Stan neatly slit the box and opened the flaps, then Roper took over. He reached inside and pulled out a Ziploc bag, sealed shut.
For good reason. The contents defied description.
Roper looked, blinked and stared again. “Holy—”
“What the hell?” Stan asked, narrowing his gaze and staring at the bag in disbelief. “Is that what I think it is?”
Roper held the bag with two fingers, keeping it far away from him. “It sure is, Stan. It’s a bag of shit.” Probably dog shit.
And written on the bag in permanent marker were the words You Stink.
Roper’s stomach roiled in a combination of nausea and humiliation.
“The nerve of some people. You get on upstairs and take it easy. I’ll get rid of this.” Stan pulled the bag from Roper’s hand, stuffed it in the box and stormed away, heading for the back of the lobby where the trash was located.
Appreciating Stan’s discretion, Roper nodded. Shaken, he headed farther into the building and took the elevator upstairs. He’d just reached the kitchen and lowered himself into the nearest chair when his cell phone rang.
He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced down and groaned, answering it despite knowing better. “Hi, Mom,” he said, hearing the exhaustion in his voice.
“Hello, darling. What’s wrong? You sound down. What happened at the doctor’s?”
“Just some frustrating news,” he admitted. “I’m not getting better as fast as I’d hoped.” He didn’t even think of upsetting her with the news about his recent package in the mail.
“What’s up?” he asked, for the first time almost grateful for his family to focus on.
His mother paused. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m calling about Ben. I visited with him after lunch and I’m horrified by where he’s living. Did you know he’s crashing on a friend’s couch? He gave up his apartment because he couldn’t pay the rent.” Her voice rose in panic. “I had no idea things were so bad. He never told me.”
Obviously Ben had managed to lie about where he was living until faced with his mother in the flesh.
Roper massaged the back of his suddenly stiff neck. “Mom, Ben’s a big boy. There are any number of jobs he could take that would bring in a weekly salary so he could keep an apartment. He chooses not to apply for them. Just like he chooses to ignore my phone calls or discuss potential coaching jobs.”
Just like his mother chose not to take acting roles she believed were beneath her. The difference was that Ben had lost enough of Roper’s money that Roper no longer felt obligated to help his brother.
“You never did understand how frustrating it is for Ben to live in your shadow,” she said.
Roper let out an angry groan. “I’ll tell you about frustrating. I just had a doctor’s appointment where I learned that despite all the work I’ve done in the past few months, my shoulder isn’t strong enough for spring training. I’ve been killing myself and it just doesn’t matter. So I can’t summon much pity for Ben at the moment. He’s brought his problems on himself.”
A long pause followed, which Roper took to mean his mother finally understood how serious he was about not wanting to discuss Ben. “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, her voice softening.
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I want to grab something to eat before my P.T. appointment, so I need to get going.”
“Okay. But just one more thing? I have a situation,” she said.
Roper narrowed his gaze. Did it ever end? “What kind of situation?”
“It seems that Harrison Smith followed me to New York. In fact, he’s staying in the same hotel. He wants me to take that role I told you about and he’s being very persistent. He sent me roses. Not real roses, mind you, but mink roses. Flowers made from fur. They are simply gorgeous. But that’s not the point.”
“What is?”
“He insists on having dinner tonight and I can’t deal with him alone. It’s getting harder and harder to resist him.”
“So don’t.” Roper exhaled hard. “A meaty role would be good for you. Why don’t you just take the part?”