Chapter Six #2
“I love having friends in low places.” Cleo set a hand on her hip. “I’ll risk the wine. Coming into a place like this and not drinking—unless you’re the DD—is just rude.”
“Got you covered. Rack ’em, Owen.”
While Trey went to the bar, Owen began to rack the balls.
“We’re playing eight ball. Simple rules.
One team has solids, the other stripes. You have to sink all your balls into the pockets, then declare which pocket you’ll sink the eight ball in.
Hit that in before you sink all your other balls, you lose.
Sink it in a different hole than you called, you lose. ”
“That’s a lot of losing. But you win,” Sonya qualified, “if you put all your balls in the holes, then the eight one. That black one.”
“That’s it. We play teams. We can do you and Trey, me and Cleo.”
“Girls against boys.” Cleo walked over to study the cues. “It’s classic.”
“Whatever. Let me show you how to hold that.”
“Can I knock at them first?” Sonya took down a cue. “It’d be like a handicap, right? With the black one in the middle, it’d be harder to get it in a hole right off, and maybe I’d get one of ours in to start.”
“You got it. Listen, but if you do hit the eight ball in on the break, that’s a win.”
“But why—” She broke off, gave a frustrated wave of the hand. “Never mind.”
“You don’t want the cue ball—the solid white one—to go in,” Owen explained. “Not on the break, that’s a loss. Through the game, if it goes in, it’s a scratch, and the other team shoots.”
“This is complicated.”
“It’s really not, once you get going. If one of the solids or stripes goes in on the break, you shoot again, and you can declare solids or stripes.
Then you’ve got to hit a ball from that group with the cue ball, or the other team shoots.
As long as you make a shot, get your ball in, you keep shooting. ”
“What if I hit one of the others—not mine—in?”
“Once you’ve called solids or stripes, unless one of yours goes in, too, that’s a turnover.”
Cleo blew out a breath. “Maybe you can walk us through it as we play.”
“No problem. Sonya wants to break,” he told Trey.
“All right.” He handed Cleo and Sonya their wine. “Abby is bringing your beer and my Coke. You want to try to hit the cue ball right here, cutie.” He held his finger over the table. “With a good, solid smack.”
“Okay.” She took a sip of wine, laughed. “Questionable is high praise.” Then handed the glass to Cleo. “I remember you hold the stick like this.”
“Something like that. Let’s chalk it up first.”
He did it for her, then adjusted her hold on the cue. “You want smooth, with a follow-through.”
“Okay, here we go.”
She slid the cue a couple of times, then rammed it into the cue ball. With a clatter, balls rolled, fell into pockets with a thump. Three found homes, then four. Then the eight ball dropped smoothly into the right-side pocket.
“Oh! Is that the win or the loss?”
Owen just eyed her narrowly.
“That was not a lucky shot,” Trey said.
“It sort of was. I haven’t played in a couple years.” She took her glass back from a hooting Cleo. “I guess it’s like riding a bike.”
“Friend.” He looked across the table at Owen. “We’ve been hustled.”
“You a shark, too?” Owen asked Cleo.
“I taught Sonya everything I know, but I admit, the student became the master.”
“Rack ’em, Trey. And no mercy.”
The band opened with “One Eyed Bastard” as the women won the game. They exchanged fist bumps and exploding fingers.
“I’d be humiliated,” Trey decided, “if the two of you weren’t so damn good.”
“I’m humiliated anyway, but I’ll live with it.”
They went to their table, and Sonya studied the band. Four guys, one girl. Probably college age, though they looked younger to her, with a lot of floppy over-the-eyes hair, ripped jeans, and combat boots.
Then they rolled into Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name.”
“That song’s older than they are,” Sonya pointed out.
“A classic’s a classic” was Owen’s opinion. “But the lead guitar’s no Richie Sambora.”
“Who is?” And Trey let out a quick laugh and rose. “Take a seat.”
His pregnant sister, Anna, did just that. “Whew! We took an ice cream walk after we had dinner out. Then Seth says, ‘Hey, let’s drop in here for a set.’ And who do we find?”
“You look wonderful,” Sonya said. “Glowing.”
“Pretty sure that’s sweat. There’s a nice breeze out there, but I’m running hot these days.”
“Sweat or not, looking good, Mama. How’s she doing?”
“Feisty, Owen, the girl is feisty.”
“The best kind,” Cleo said.
“And you”—she gripped Cleo’s hand—“and you, too”—then Sonya’s. “The nursery mural is beyond fabulous. I swear I can’t count the number of times a day I go in there just to look at it.”
Trey pulled over two chairs, crowded them in, as Seth brought Anna a glass.
“Bottled water on ice, as ordered. I just had an impulse to stop by, check out the band. We’re always looking for entertainment options at the hotel.”
Leaning over, she kissed Trey’s cheek. Then she put Seth’s hand on her belly. “The way she’s dancing in there, she may be a rocker.”
“Let’s discourage any facial piercings. Cleo, we stopped into Bay Arts to deliver a few pieces Anna finished, and saw your paintings. They’re wonderful.”
“Thanks. There’s so much around here that insists I paint it.”
“Good for us. We bought one, the one of the bay, the boats, the two boys about to cast off in a little sloop.”
“Boys on the Bay,” Anna supplied. “I loved how they looked ready for adventure.”
“We’re having one tomorrow,” Sonya told her, and adjusted the volume of her voice when the band took a break. “On The Horizon.”
“We’ve got room for two, and what?” Owen calculated. “Two and two-thirds more, if you’re interested.”
“I’d love it. Don’t know how I’d handle it at this stage, but I’d love it. Except—”
“We’re booked at my parents’ tomorrow. My mom’s birthday.”
“Next summer you’re on. Meanwhile, Trey said you’re going through storage at the manor, changing some things.”
“Mostly adding,” Sonya told her. “We think of it as reclaiming rooms.”
“I think that’s great. And I heard additional photo shoots for the Ryder project are happening.” She sent a snarky sisterly smile toward Trey. “I bet you can’t wait.”
“Shut up.”
“Not a chance. Mom’s already got ideas. I’ve got one now. Home, Daddy. This baby mama’s tired. I do have some more things for the website, Sonya. I’ll get in touch next week.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
“We’ve got it,” Trey said as Seth reached for his wallet. “I think we can spot you a glass of water and a Coke.”
“He needs a guys’ night.”
“Anna.”
“You do,” she insisted, and turned to Trey and Owen. “He does. He’s working more hours so he can take daddy leave, and getting things ready around the house.”
“We’re up for that.” Owen looked at Trey. “Poker, Friday night. My place.”
“Yeah?” Seth smiled. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’m in. Come on, babe, let’s go home and put our girl to bed.”
“And I’m down for that. Talk soon.”
“They’re so pretty together,” Cleo commented. “Not just the looks, which rank high for both. It’s the easy rhythm.”
“Mom says Anna came home with stars in her eyes after their first date, and the stars never went out.”
“Which doesn’t mean we can’t skin him at poker. Pull in Ace and Deuce if they’re not busy. I can get Mike.”
“Leaves us out,” Cleo observed.
“Guys’ night. You two can watch sappy movies.”
“Which we will,” Sonya assured him. “Now, we’ve gone over our two hours.”
“Strict.”
“Yes, my favorite cousin.”
“I’d object, but I’m not sure I want to sit through another set. I’ve got it.” Owen waved Trey back and went to pay the tab.
“I’m going to sharpen up my skills. We need a rematch.”
“Adorable.” Sonya examined her nails. “Just adorable. Remember, you have many other exceptional skills.”
“Right. Where’d you learn to play pool to teach this one how to play?”
“My daddy. He’s such a quiet, unassuming sort of man. People who didn’t know him would think, oh, there’s an easy mark. He’d let them talk him into a game, eight ball, nine ball, cutthroat, whatever. Then he’d quietly, unassumingly wipe the table with them.”
“Good to know. When he visits again, I won’t suggest a friendly game of pool.”
“Play poker with him, prepare to lose your shirt.”
“I’m pretty good at poker.”
When Cleo just smiled, Trey nodded. “So noted.” And rose when Owen returned.
Once they got in the truck, Sonya settled back. “This was a very fine idea.”
“We still have cake coming.” Owen nudged Cleo. “Right?”
“Let’s have it up on the widow’s walk. What do you say, Son? Up there under the stars, the moon, with the ocean rolling below.”
“I say another fine idea.”
They came home to delighted dogs, and a cat who allowed them entry.
Since Yoda still had a ball in his mouth, Sonya laughed.
“Good time with Jack.”
“I’ll let them out awhile.”
“While Trey does that, I’ll whip some cream. Sonya, cappuccino?”
“All over it.”
In the kitchen with Cleo, Sonya got out cups. “It really was a good time. I keep telling myself to get out more.”
“You do fine. You hit your comfort zone. We like to party, but we were never party girls. We’re having ourselves an excellent weekend. Doing our search, fixing up rooms, having a fine meal, going out for pool and music. Tomorrow taking a sail.”
“And Monday back to work.”
“It’s what suits us. Trey, just in time. Why don’t you and Sonya take the coffee up. Owen and I can bring the cake.”
They made their way up, and as they passed the third floor, Sonya looked down the hall.
Quiet and dark. Saying nothing, she kept going, but she’d felt it. Eye of the storm, she thought, and it would blow in before long.
But not, she promised herself, right now. She’d take that calm, even if it proved a false one.
When they reached the widow’s walk, she stood under the stars, the moon, with the ocean rolling below.
“Worth the trip.”
“Do you come up here much?”
“Not as much as I should. It always takes my breath. Cleo talks about painting from up here. She probably will.”
She moved to the rail, breathed in the night. “Do you think I’ll ever get used to it? I hope I don’t. I hope it always takes my breath.”
“You may get used to it, but that doesn’t mean you’d take it for granted.”
“I couldn’t.” She turned, smiled at him. “The same goes for you. I may be getting used to having you haul furniture or just being here when I need you. But I don’t take it, or you, for granted.”
“Here’s where I want to be. You’re why I want to be here.”
She stood, her back to the sea, and the moonlight streaming.
“Sonya, it’s only been a few months, but…” He trailed off as he heard Owen’s voice.
“Jesus, Lafayette, I’ve got it.”
“But?” Sonya prompted.
“Here’s where I want to be,” he repeated.
He reminded himself it wasn’t the time or the place to say more.
He stepped to her, kissed her, soft, gentle. “You’re why I want to be here.”