Chapter Twelve #2
‘Mostly I just talk to the girls back in Philly.’
‘I meant an in-person friend. Like IRL.’
‘Don’t you have to get dressed? You’re gonna be late for Lemon.’
I look at my watch. ‘Shit, I am.’
‘Go, go, your majestic greatness,’ she says and shoos me away. Her attention goes back to the TV.
I take the white Tesla to the Country Club, not the pickup. Technically, it’s my Dad’s Tesla, but I bought it. On arrival, the car is taken away by a valet.
I straighten out my shirt and jacket, blow my cheeks out. Last time I was stood in this spot, I was talking to Serenity. Now I’m here about to go on a date with a different woman altogether, and I can’t get Serenity to go out with me.
I feel like all the staff’s attention is on me when I say who I’m here to see.
Maybe they feel sorry for me. I’m led through to a lounge area that I didn’t see at the wedding.
It looks a little tropical, the chairs surrounded by cheese plants.
Lemon sits on a bar stool with her back to me.
Her white dress is cut low in a V-shape all the way down her back.
It occurs to me that if it was Serenity wearing that dress, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.
Yet, this is Lemon, and if I’m honest, it’s a little dressy for a first date.
‘Hey, handsome,’ she says to me with a big grin on her face when she sees me, the same smile that bares all her teeth. ‘You look gorgeous.’
I look down. I’m wearing a pretty standard shirt and tie matched with a pair of chinos. ‘Thanks, Lemon. You look nice.’
I think I see a flash of disappointment in her eyes when I don’t compliment her further. Yet I don’t want to give her the wrong idea. This is a one-time only deal and I feel shitty enough about it already.
‘Shall we have a drink at the bar before we go into dinner?’
She has this habit of looking deep into my eyes for longer than is necessary.
‘Uh, sure. I can’t really drink, what with Monday night’s game being the season opener. I’ll just have a soda.’
More soda. Lemon glowers at me playfully.
‘My, my, aren’t we a good boy?’ she breathes, and just as I suspected, it feels like she’s flirting with me off the bat.
I don’t understand why someone with her confidence couldn’t ask me out on a date herself.
She’s a grown woman. Why her mother has to do the work for her, I’ll never understand.
Lemon orders me a non-alcoholic cocktail and I ask her if she wants to move to seats by the window, shielded behind some more plant life and away from prying eyes.
‘Are you interested much? In football?’ I ask, once we’ve sat down.
‘Oh, you know,’ she says with a wink. ‘I can’t not be interested. My grandpappy force-fed me football my entire life. Can I try your drink?’
‘Uhh, sure,’ I say as I pass over the glass. She holds onto it and drinks from the straw, then puckers her lips. ‘Ooh, I like that one,’ she says. ‘That’s tasty.’
I look down at the drink. I need to get to the bottom of whether Lemon was the whole reason I was drafted by the Mutineers.
‘So do you give your grandpappy your picks for the draft?’
She bats my question away with a wave of her hand. ‘Oh, I mean, for sure, but he ain’t ever gonna listen to the likes of little ol’ me.’
A bubble of relief floats up in my chest.
‘I mean most of the time…’ she continues, and the bubble bursts.
‘You wanna know the truth? I don’t think he was one hundred per cent gonna pick you in the build-up to draft day.
There were a lotta meetings.’ She rolls her eyes as she says it.
‘You know how it is. Everybody’s got their own opinion.
The coaching staff for sure wanted you, but my grandpappy needed a little…
you know. A little push in the right direction.
He took me out for lunch one day and said “Lemon, gimme my answer”.
So, in a way… I guess you could say that this year I had final say over who got picked. ’
I sit with my back straight while she drinks. She seems like your average southern belle, yet there’s something odd about her, like she’s just saying all this to get attention. Maybe she’s invented the whole thing. There’s a sad look in her eye that I can’t figure out.
‘You’re a franchise man,’ she continues. ‘You’re gonna have a looong career with the Mutineers, I can tell.’
She averts her gaze as she drinks, almost like she doesn’t wish to make eye contact with me. ‘What’s your role in the organization, Lemon?’ I ask. ‘I mean… what is it that you do?’
‘Oh, I do plenty. I mean, my brother Brody, he got the brains. He’s the future of the Mutineers brand, for sure. I work for my Momma. I do all kinds of things. I go where I’m needed. I know all the staff at the Danube on a first name basis.’
I nod my head. Seems like a pretty good way of saying she does nothing at all. ‘Right. I guess, I mean, is that what you see yourself doing in life?’
‘I wanted a career in fashion. But Momma says… it’s better I stay in the family business. My grandpappy only has two grandchildren. Brody and me.’
‘How old is your brother?’
‘Twenty-seven. I’m twenty-three.’
‘What about your father?’
She stiffens, then glowers at me. ‘We do not talk about that man. He left. Then Momma cut him out of her life when he started seeing somebody else. He got remarried.’
Lemon’s attention seems to waver. I look around the bar and it’s quiet. My heart sinks because I want to be on a date with Serenity, getting to know her better. No offense to Lemon, but I don’t wanna be sat here. It’s not like I’m ever gonna be her boyfriend.
I think about the note I left for Serenity at the diner. When she’ll get it. If she’ll read it. If she’ll respond to my request.
Lemon’s talking again. I know I should be listening.
I just want this so-called date to be over.