Chapter 6 Miles
SIX
Miles
“Lucy, I should have warned you,” I say as I park my car in front of the bowling alley. “Just because we’re having roommate bonding doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you tonight.”
She smiles up at me with twinkling eyes. “Good. Because I’m not going to give you a freebie either.”
She cackles—freaking cackles—an evil laugh. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Is this going to be a repeat of football?”
“You used physical force to hold me in place,” she says, reminding me about the night when we first interacted with each other—football at Margaret’s.
Margaret hosts game nights regularly, and it’s often a very physical game.
I’ve always thought it was funny that a woman in her eighties organizes full-contact sports in her backyard…
but it was the first time I spent time around Lucy.
That night was what convinced me to give in to Margaret’s nagging to invite her to be my roommate.
“You were exceptionally good. It was the only way we could win. To cheat.” I grin at her as I grasp the door handle and pop it open.
“Well then…I guess we’ll just have to see what happens tonight. I hope you don’t cry easily.” She slips her purse strap over her shoulder and jumps out.
“I thought you said people run in fear.”
“They do.” She runs a hand through her shoulder-length hair. “They run because they’re scared of losing.”
The bowling alley isn’t too crowded when we go in. About three-quarters full. Green Valley is a town that’s big enough to have everything you need, but small enough that you might run into someone you know.
I keep my eyes focused on the front desk. I don’t want to risk making eye contact with anyone I know. I’m here to hang out with Lucy and no one else.
After we get our shoes and lane, we make our way over to the wall of bowling balls.
“It’s been years since I’ve been bowling,” Lucy exclaims as she stares at the wall. “I forgot what you’re supposed to pick!”
I pick up one I think she’ll like and hold it out to her. “Try that one and see if it fits comfortably.”
She holds it carefully away from her, like it might explode if she keeps it too close. “I think so? Maybe?”
She’s funny.
“Why don’t you give it a try? If it doesn’t work, you can trade it out and try something else.”
She smirks up at me. “I think if I do badly, you’ll tell me it’s the perfect ball for me.”
I grin down at her as we walk toward the empty lane. “You’re probably right. I might be a little competitive.”
She bumps my arm with hers in a teasing way, and my heart jumps a beat. Weird. I’ll have to get that checked out by my doctor.
“Do you want me to put the bumper rails up?” I ask innocently as I sit down at the computer to set up the game.
Someone cheering loudly in the lane next to us drowns out her response, but I can see the ornery look on her face just before she sticks out her tongue at me.
“Okay, so no bumpers…”
There’s a large family group beside us, covering multiple generations. Birthday hats all around.
I turn my attention back to Lucy. “Want to go first?” I ask her.
“Nope. I want to size up the competition. You go first.”
“I’m starting to get scared that you are a professional…”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” she replies smugly.
I narrow my eyes at her and give her a weird face. She throws her head back and laughs while I grin.
Roommate-bonding nights should happen at least once a week. This is fun.
I bowl a spare on my first go-round.
“Dang it!” Lucy says as she steps out onto the wooden floor. “I was hoping you were as bad as I am.”
And then I watch as she holds the bowling ball in both hands, walks to the edge of the lane, then proceeds to squat down and roll it forward like she’s trying to shove a boulder down a hill. It’s like watching a toddler bowl, and it takes every bit of my restraint to not burst out laughing.
“It’s supposed to knock over all of them at once, right?” she asks as we watch the ball continue to roll slowly down the lane.
“That’s the goal, yes.”
The ball knocks out three pins when it finally reaches its destination.
“But three is good,” I tell her.
Her shoulders slump.
“The great news is you didn’t have a gutter ball.”
She spins around and marches back to retrieve her ball from the ball return.
“You had two tries. Does that mean I do too?”
“Exactly how long ago did you go bowling?”
“Sixth grade?” She shrugs.
I clutch my chest. “No!”
“Yes.”
“My family would be horrified.”
“You look horrified,” she says with a grimace.
“That’s because I am. In the wintertime, it’s the Granger family tradition to go bowling every Friday night.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re finally bowling with a professional.” She winks exaggeratedly as she picks up her ball again and heads back to the lane.
She launches it with a mixture of a shotput stance and someone throwing a firecracker they forgot was already lit.
It bounces, catching a few inches of air before going into the gutter. There’s a loud whirring sound as it makes its way down, and I glance around to see that the bowlers in the lanes next to us are watching the spectacle with wide eyes. It’s so funny that I can barely contain my laughter.
Lucy turns around and brushes her hands together as though she’s dusting them off. “And that is how it’s done.”
“That is absolutely not how you throw a bowling ball,” I say with a snort.
Lucy plants her hands on her hips. “And I suppose you think you can do it better, do you?” She raises her eyebrows, and her eyes are twinkling. “I’ll have you know, I’m a professional between-the-legs bowler,” she says.
I have to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing.
“It sounds like you’re making some kind of dirty joke there.”
She blushes, then laughs. “Maybe I am. I don’t know. All I know is, I might not be as practiced as I claimed.”
“Well, then, you’ve come bowling with the perfect guy.”
She looks at the lane next to us. A man close to Margaret’s age—somewhere in his eighties—walks up and bowls a perfect strike.
“You’re right. I should go talk to that man.”
She turns as though she’s going to ask him for advice.
I reach out and give her a nudge. “I wasn’t talking about him.”
Lucy grins at me and claps for the man. The man, shuffling back to his seat, glances over at her clapping and gives her a big grin. Lucy motions for him to come closer, and he glances behind him, says something into the crowd of his family, then shuffles toward us.
“You, sir, are an excellent bowler,” Lucy gushes as he stops in front of her.
The man smiles as though he’s not used to using those facial muscles. There’s something familiar about him, but I can’t place it.
“I might be old, but I’ve still got it,” he says in a shaky voice.
Lucy jerks a thumb toward me. “Maybe you could teach Miles a thing or two.”
The old man’s eyes light up. “Of course! I’m Gerry Farmington, and I’ve been bowling for seventy years now.”
He points back at the crowd—who appears to be his family—then waves for someone to join us. “I’m trying to impress my new girlfriend.”
A familiar gray head appears as she works her way through the group of bowlers. Margaret Eventhall. She’s the woman who knows everyone. The one who facilitated Lucy and me living together.
Lucy brightens when she sees Margaret. “Margaret! I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!”
She greets Margaret with a big hug. “Gerry isn’t my boyfriend,” Margaret replies as she pats Lucy’s back. “At least, not yet. It depends on who wins the game.”
Lucy leans back and looks at her in surprise. “You mean to tell me that you’re deciding your relationship status with a bowling game?”
Margaret nods solemnly.
Farmington just grunts. “It’s a good thing I know how to bowl.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I was hoping you could help me with,” Lucy says as she steps closer to him. “I’m afraid I’m a lost cause.”
Farmington straightens his shoulders and pats her arm awkwardly. “Nobody’s a lost cause. Let me show you a few tricks.”
I watch Lucy’s smile grow bigger as he begins to chat with her about the mechanics of bowling.
Margaret stands next to me and watches as Farmington fights a losing battle on teaching Lucy some bowling techniques.
“So, how is your roommate doing?” Margaret asks slyly.
I know what she’s up to. She’s a notorious matchmaker.
She played a big part in Kingston and Willa’s relationship, and even Meyer and Archie’s reconciled marriage.
Meyer is Willa’s best friend and I think my friend too.
She’s always been very welcoming to me anytime I’m around and has tried to warn me about Margaret’s manipulative ways.
“I’ll tell you about my roommate if you tell me about your boyfriend,” I say with a grin.
She clicks her tongue. “You might come across as an easygoing guy, but I know better.”
“I’ve been learning some tricks from a friend.” I wink at her. “But to answer your question, Lucy is nice. You were right. It’s not bad, having her in the house.”
“Good. Very good. I’ve been worried about you.”
I look at her in surprise.
Margaret shrugs. “Your best friend is busy with a new girlfriend, I’ve never seen you deeply attached to anyone, and I’m concerned about your happiness. You needed a friend. And I think Lucy did too.”
I stare at her for a moment. “So, you weren’t trying to play matchmaker with us?”
Margaret waves a hand through the air. “Of course not. You’re both much too busy for that. I was simply trying to coordinate a friendship between the two of you.”
“Congratulations. It was a success.” I hold out a hand and shake hers solemnly.
Margaret laughs. “Yes, I think you two will have a lot of fun together. I mean, just look at her.”
I do. And what I see has me grinning ear to ear. Farmington is enthusiastically reenacting a slider throw.
“What’s with you and Farmington?”
Margaret smiles softly. “Gerry? I know, to you, he might seem like a grumpy recluse…but there’s something more to him.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”