I look down at my ripped jeans, they came this way and they actually cost me a pretty penny. My shirt is a tee and it doesn’t expose anything that shouldn’t be revealed at a kid’s practice.
So, what in the fuck is wrong with my outfit?
“Shut it, Betty,” a feminine voice says from beside me and I look up to find another woman walking in my direction. She’s short, barely over five feet, but she makes up for it in her confidence as she struts toward the bleachers, her dark curls bouncing against her brown skin. Her dark brown eyes meet mine and her plump lips turn up in a smile as she sits down next to me. She throws a glare over her shoulder, I’m guessing at Betty before she turns back toward me.
She holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Jamille,” Her smile reveals a row of perfectly straight white teeth.
I take her hand, shaking it gently, and being mindful of Lilly who’s still asleep against my shoulder. “Ivy.”
“You’re new,” she states as she takes a sip from a coke can. “I haven’t been here the last couple of practices, working like a mad woman at the office lately, but you weren’t here last season.”
“No,” I agree as I watch her closely. The woman seems to radiate this larger than life aura.
“I’m Aiden’s mom,” she points to the child that I remember waiting with at the first practice as he waited for his mom. “And I’m the resident mess of a mother,” she says with a laugh, briefly glancing over her shoulder, “the rest of them hate me, but they’re just jealous.”
I feel a grin forming on my face. “Jealous of what?” I ask.
She looks at me, holding a hand to her chest dramatically. “Of my boss bitchiness, of course” she says to which a few hisses are let out behind us. “They’re all snobs anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” she raises her voice, making sure the people in question can hear her.
“Ah, well, it seems you now have an addition to the resident mess of a mother list,” I tell her, not bothering to mention that I’m not actually a mother.
She lets out a laugh. “Good, it was starting to get a little lonely.” Her eyes wander out to the field. “I’m assuming the kid with the head of beautiful curls is yours, I don’t remember him being here last season.”
“Yes,” I nod, glancing out at Tanner as he pairs up with Aiden to toss the ball around. “Him and Aiden have been glued at the hip the last couple of practices.”
“Smart kids,” she says as she continues to sip her coke. She looks at Lilly and her eyes soften. “How cute. How old is she?”
“Two.”
She nods. “What school will Tanner be attending when it starts back?”
“Brookridge Elementary School.”
“Oh, that’s Aiden’s school, we’re in the same district.”
“Hopefully they’ll be in the same class, but at least Tanner will know someone there now.” Admittedly, I’ve been worried about the changing of schools and how it may affect Tanner. Even though he seems excited, it’s been a concern of mine that he won’t know anyone else. However, it’s good to know Aiden will be there, even if they aren’t in the same grade. I turn my attention back to the field as Nathan jogs across to a pair of kids, demonstrating the best way for them to turn their hips when they toss the ball. I watch closely as he moves around. He pushes his hair away from his face and briefly looks our way. A smile takes over his face and I feel something deep in me start to throb.
You’re getting turned on by smiles now, you need help.
No, I need to get laid.
“Lord, that’s a hot one, am I right?” Jamille says, looking over at me.
I find myself nodding along, even though I know I shouldn’t. I should be ignoring how attractive the man is, not openly talking about it.
“Finally, someone whose lady bits haven’t dried up. I’ve been waiting years to find someone else to ogle over that man with me,” she says in triumph.
I let out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s hot, but he’s Tanner’s coach, and our neighbor, so I’m going to stay as far away as possible,” I say.
Jamille shrugs. “Hey, doll, you can always look but not touch.”
Oh man, is she right.
We continue to chat as practice moves along and I find myself enjoying conversation with another adult that isn’t my therapist or my grandma, who could also be considered my second therapist. I learn that Jamille is a single mother and that Aiden’s dad has been out of the picture for years, but as she points out, it’s okay because she’s a boss bitch and her and Aiden are both better off without him. I sense that there’s more to the story, but I don’t dig, since we’ve only known each other for five minutes. She divulges that she runs a coffee shop downtown and that she’s in the process of opening up a second location, closer to one of the residential areas. Aiden has been playing for Nathan since he was three and the man has always been nothing but an angel.
Halfway through our conversation, I realize that there’s nothing interesting about me to talk about. Failed artist, college dropout, new failing parent. Fortunately, Jamille doesn’t push me to reveal more when I tell her we just recently moved to the area and I originally lived in Tulsin, an hour or so’s drive from Brookridge.
When practice ends, both kids want to stay a little longer to play around but Jamille needs to get back to work. “We need to set up a playdate,” she tells me as she gathers her things.