Sledgehammer (Hard to Love 2)

Audrey is seconds from tears, the expression familiar. I can’t count how many times Eileen’s had me in tears over the years. Not that I’ve ever let her see it. The organ under my sternum throbs and I know it’s time to leave. I can’t get caught up in this. I have too many battles of my own to fight.

Eileen follows me into the kitchen without answering Audrey.

“I went to see Grandma.” I cross my arms and lift my chin, readying for battle. Unfortunately my mother is three inches taller, six with her heels on, so I’m still forced to look up. She sighs tiredly and lifts an eyebrow. As if I’m an annoying mosquito buzzing in her ear she’d like to swat away.

“They’ll evict her if you don’t pay the damn bills. You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m a little late sometimes. Big deal. I’m busy, you know.”

Busy? My blood pressure skyrockets, irritation transforming into full-blown anger.

“It’s not a little late! You haven’t paid for two months! I’m warning you, pay the bill or I’ll take you to court.”

“Take me to court? With what? You can’t afford it.” She scoffs. She loves scoffing, does it any chance she gets.

“I’ll borrow against my inheritance if I have to. Or I’ll get a loan. But I promise that if we have to move her, I will make your life a living hell.”

“You’ve done plenty of that already! I’m used to it by now!”

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on here?” Dan says as he walks into the kitchen. His green eyes, the same color as his daughter’s, meet mine. I can’t help comparing that while my mother’s are filled with righteous indignation, as if she’s the victim, Dan’s are filled with empathy.

“Your wife stopped paying Grandma’s bill. The Sunnyvale manager told me that they’ll evict her if it’s not paid asap.”

“I’m a little behind! That’s all,” Eileen shouts. Dan shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis.

“Everybody calm down. Your grandmother is not going to be evicted. We’ll send the payment out first thing tomorrow morning. I promise you.” I don’t doubt Dan. Not for a minute. In the twenty-two years I’ve known him he’s never disappointed me. Not once. Dan Peterson is a stud in every way that should matter––he’s smart, kind, and dependable. “You have my word, Amber.”

Hearing his vow makes every muscle in my body go slack. I give him a brief hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Dan.”

He gives me a sympathetic, lopsided smile partially hidden under his blond goatee and pats my upper arm.

With that, I march out of the kitchen and out the front door without a backward glance at my mother. I’m almost at the end of their street, on my way to the bus stop, when I hear Audrey calling my name.

I look over my shoulder and find her running toward me, skinny arms flailing, purple Uggs flying. When she reaches me, her cheeks are pink from running in the biting cold, her expression unsure.

“You forgot your purse.” She hands me my messenger bag. “I programmed my number in your phone.” Her expression stills, waiting for me to comment. When I don’t, she continues, “Maybe––I don’t know, maybe we can hang out…sometime?” Her gaze moves around nervously. She fidgets with the sleeves of her jacket, pulling them over her hands.

“I’d like that.”

Her eyes slam into mine. “You would?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cool,” she says grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll text you.”

“I’ll stay here until you get back inside, so run your butt off.”

“Okay,” she says cheerfully and takes off in a sprint back home. Maybe something good can come out of this mess. Maybe, in the process, I’ve gained a sister.

Chapter Nine

It’s Sunday––the big day––and we’re all at the stadium in the Coach’s club across from the locker rooms where the players’ families sit, waiting for the AFC Wild Card game to begin between the Titans and the Cincinnati Bengals.

Most of clan Shaw is in the house, the box loud from all the enthused members of our party. Which includes Amanda, Calvin’s sister, and her son Sam, who have been here since Christmas. Three other Shaw brothers, who I hadn’t met before, and Camilla’s parents.

“I’m starting to understand why you love this game so much. Hot, ripped men running around in tight, shiny pants––” Mrs. Football Hoe, otherwise known as my best friend, arches an admonishing brow. “No need to be embarrassed. I approve.”

I called the nursing home this morning and confirmed that Eileen had sent the check. No doubt with Dan standing over her, making sure it got done. Which is the only reason why I can relax and enjoy myself now.

“Tackling each other to the ground? What she-devil thought this up? I’d like to shake her hand. The only thing that could possibly be improved upon is if they took off their jerseys.”