Chapter Twenty-Three
“What did you do today?” Grant asked Ivy, while Tony and Brad sifted through the ball return and made every conceivable ball joke under the sun. Saggy balls, big balls, heavy balls…no balls were safe.
Grant had calmed down since arriving at the bowling alley. So much of the anger and frustration about his day melted away once he got to touch Ivy. He stroked his fingers back and forth across the edge of her neckline, fascinated by how soft her skin was.
“Delivered invitations for Dad’s retirement party, talked Brad off a Tony ledge, managed to pack a few boxes that hopefully my parents aren’t unpacking right now.” She forced a tight smile. “I swear I won’t have accomplished anything by the time I leave.”
Grant’s fingers stilled. Logically, he knew she’d leave eventually, but he didn’t enjoy her saying the words so casually, especially in conjunction with the sickening reminder that her parents were planning to move away.
Did Tony feel this morose about Brad? Were they going to end up on one of their couches, buried under pizza boxes and beer cans, watching Greta Gerwig’s Little Women on repeat so they had an excuse to cry?
“You can always come back again to help them pack,” he suggested, working very hard to make it sound casual and not like begging.
“But that’s what this time was supposed to be for.
” Ivy sipped her beer and then continued.
“It’s frustrating, because I’m losing money being here.
There’s no such thing as remote work for a flight attendant.
And if I’m not working, I’m not making money.
You understand that better than most, I bet. ”
He made a little sound of commiseration that he hoped masked his abject panic. “I do understand that, but you fly for free, so…can’t you just come back whenever?”
“It’s not that easy to get here from Boston,” she explained.
“There have to be seats open on the flight I want to take, which can change at any moment. If people miss their flights and get rebooked, or change their flights, or if a flight gets canceled, something that looked wide open the night before might not be a possibility anymore. Then I still have to get to the airport early, because even though crewmembers have a special security line, we can get sent to the regular security line, and if I’m not going to work, I get sent to the end of the regular security line.
So if that happens when I’m cutting it close, I could be totally fucked, because I need to be at the gate around the time boarding starts, because if they assign me a seat and I’m not there to take it, they might give it to someone else lower on the list.”
Ivy took a sip of her beer. As she was speaking, Grant’s stomach sank. Getting her back here wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. But at least now he knew—
“Even if everything goes perfectly,” she continued, “Coeur-de-Lac doesn’t have an airport, so the closest I can get is Milwaukee, though a safer option is Chicago or even Minneapolis.
Then I’m stuck either renting a car or waiting for someone to pick me up.
Of course, the problem with renting a car is that you’re supposed to return it from where you got it or it can be super expensive, so if I flew into Milwaukee but have to leave out of Chicago, I’m out even more money. ”
Ivy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. That was a long answer when I probably could have just said ‘sort of.’”
Grant felt like she’d tried to teach him calculus using a mirror and an abacus. His brain was still processing the litany of words she’d bombarded him with, but it couldn’t get past one thing. “So…you’re not coming back?”
“Ivy! It’s your turn,” Brad called in a singsong voice.
“Hold that thought,” she said as she got up. Like he’d ever be able to let go of it.
“You can use my ball,” Brad said, taking her seat next to Grant. “Stick your fingers in my holes.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’m really looking forward to your next Botox appointment so you can’t do that anymore.”
“Where did Tony go?” Grant asked as Ivy inspected her ball choices.
“He didn’t like our balls, so he went in search of newer, fresher ones.” Brad giggled at his own joke. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. But he really didn’t like any of the balls in our lane, so he’s roaming the alley looking for different ones.”
“All he’s going to find are blue balls.” Grant shook his head gravely, then winked. Brad burst out laughing.
“Oh, you’re funny. I didn’t know you were funny.”
“Don’t believe everything Tony tells you about me or any other man in this town. He’s trying to make sure he seems like your best option.” Grant admired Ivy’s ass briefly as she bent over to read the number on a bowling ball, then asked Brad, “Are you coming back to visit Tony?”
Brad shifted in the uncomfortable chair, crossing his legs and leaning back, doing his best to look unbothered—but he tried too hard.
“I mean, it’s new and I don’t really want to put a label on things…”
“Is it a job requirement for flight attendants to use fifteen words when one will do?” Grant teased. “Yes or no?”
Brad watched Ivy knock down the middle pins and only the middle pins. “I don’t know. Tony hasn’t asked me to come back.”
“I suck at bowling,” Ivy declared as she did the walk of shame to retrieve her ball for her second roll. “It’s a good thing we didn’t bet on this.”
“We still can,” Grant said, and grinned when she stuck her tongue out at him. “I could include that in the bet.”
Ivy picked up her ball and walked back toward the lane, but he’d have sworn on a Bible that there was an extra swing in her hips.
“Are you asking because you’re interested in my relationship with Tony, or are you asking because you want to know if she’ll come back?” Brad picked up Ivy’s beer and took a sip.
“Look at my big blue balls.” Tony was every inch as proud of that juvenile joke as Grant knew he would be, and he was so grateful his best friend had shown up when he did, because it saved him from having to answer Brad’s question.
He was interested in whether Brad would visit Tony, because Tony was worth visiting.
He also wanted to know if Ivy was coming back.
It was all he’d be able to think about whenever his mind tried to wander until he knew the answer.
Once her parents left Coeur-de-Lac, their new location would be yet another place competing for her attention.
It wouldn’t just be him versus the world anymore.
It would be him versus the world versus her parents.
Ivy returned, having gained no additional pins with her second roll.
“If I’m good at one thing, it is rolling the ball right down the middle.” Her self-deprecation rubbed Grant wrong.
“You have the highest score right now,” he pointed out.
“Because you and Tony haven’t bowled yet,” she corrected. “I’m competing with Brad and that’s—no offense, B—not saying much.”
Brad shrugged. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
Tony turned around. “Can I get some quiet from the lane, please?”
They all clamped their mouths shut and he turned around, taking quick steps toward the line and swinging his arm back. As the ball passed his hip, the intercom blared, “Tony, your pizza is ready. Your pizza is ready, Tony.”
Startled, he released the ball and it went straight into the gutter. Without a lot of force, it slowly rolled down the lane, barely making it to the end before dropping out of sight.
“That shouldn’t count,” he complained, looking to the group for confirmation and sympathy. He got neither.
“I’ll go get the pizza,” Brad said and hopped up.
“I’ll come with you,” Ivy volunteered.
Tony looked at Brad with kicked-puppy eyes. “How are you supposed to watch me bowl?”
“Do you want me to watch you after that last roll?”
Tony clutched one hand to his heart and stumbled backward.
“Are your nose and big shoes at home? Because you’re acting like a clown,” Grant said after Ivy and Brad left for the snack counter arm-in-arm.
“Am I being weird?”
“Always. But that was a bit much even for you.” Grant checked over his shoulder to make sure Brad or Ivy hadn’t doubled back. “He likes you. Stop. Being. Weird. I’m scared you’re going to get a cane and top hat next and try to recruit me to do a vaudeville routine.”
Tony’s ball sped out of the ball return and he picked it up. “What were the two of you talking about?”
“How he wants you to ask him to come back.”
Tony brightened. “Really?”
“Yes. Stop fondling your ball and bowl, dammit.”
Elated, Tony almost floated to the line. This time when he released the ball, it sped down the lane and knocked down all of the pins.
“Show-off.”
“How can I show off if you’re the only one here to watch? I don’t care what you think about me.”
Grant pointed at the poorly animated “spare” sequence playing on the scoreboard. “Even if he didn’t see it happen, he’ll know it happened.”
Tony sat in one of the computer chairs as Grant moved to the ball return. “So you’re going to roll gutter balls the whole time because you’re not showing off?”
“I’m absolutely showing off,” he said. “But at least I can admit it.”
The truth was, though Grant had known Ivy for as long as he could remember, he felt a pressing urgency to impress her however and whenever he could. Try as he might, there was no forgetting that her time in Coeur-de-Lac had an expiration date.
He wasn’t quite delusional enough to believe that bowling a 300 would get Ivy to realize what a catch he was and decide to move back home…but he wasn’t not delusional enough to stop himself from fantasizing about it.
In reality, he had two weeks to make up for ten years of lost time.
Challenge accepted.