Page 3 of Big Balls
I wave to the ladies, my eyes still scanning the box for my Katy. Sheila nods at me, and gives me a finger wave.
I nod at her, distracted. “Hey, where’s Katy? Is she in the potty?”
I cross the room quickly, and as I approach I can hear the sounds of someone getting sick.
All the blood leaves my face. “Oh, crap, is she sick?”
Sheila shakes her head, pursing her lips. “It’s not your kiddo in there, so settle down, Alexander.”
I huff out a deep, relieved breath. “Thank God she’s not puking. There’s nothing worse than kid puke.”
Sheila shakes her head at me. “You can’t be telling me that kid puke is worse than kid poop. That’s not how this goes.”
I flinch as another round of retching begins. “It is too how it goes. Everybody poops. No big deal. But that”—I point toward the closed door—“that’s not okay.”
Sheila nods. “Poor Reina. That first trimester is the worst.”
I nod sharply. “Morning sickness, my ass. It’s afternoon, evening, all day and all night sickness. It’s got to be miserable.”
Sheila gives me one of her megawatt smiles. “It is, but you get a cute prize at the end. Speaking of which, where is Katy?”
I go cold all over. “What do you mean? Why are you asking me where my daughter is when she’s supposed to be in here?”
Sheila gives me a look like I’m being an idiot. I like her a little bit more because of it. She’s one of the only people in my life who treats me like the mess I am.
“She needed to use the restroom, but Reina’s been in here most of the game throwing up things her ancestors ate.”
I shake my hands out, trying to alleviate some of the tension that had gripped me for that split-second I’d thought my daughter was missing. “Okay, so where did she go? I’m sure she’s ready to go home.”
Sheila waves a hand at the door. “She probably went to the one in the hallway. Just head out to the left and you’ll see it right away.”
My mouth pinches up, a little frisson of worry snaking up my spine. I don’t like her being out of my sight, out of the sight of any of the people I trust to watch over her. But she is plenty big enough to go to the restroom alone. She’s been doing it for years now.
Before I check on her, though, I need to check on our WAGs. “Do you or any of the other ladies need anything before I go? Cold glass of water? Sour candy? An exorcist?”
Sheila barks out a laugh. “No, we’ve got it covered here. Thanks. The men are all waiting around for us downstairs, but I didn’t feel right leaving poor Reina in here all alone.”
I nod. “Okay then. I’m going to head out and see whether Katy is ready to go yet.” I wave to a chorus of goodbyes as I head back out to the hallway, letting the heavy door click shut behind me.
I stand outside the ladies’ room that Sheila indicated and wait. And wait. And wait some more.
I check my watch, and it’s now been almost fifteen minutes since I came to the owner’s box. All of which is after I’d been trapped in that ridiculous interview.
Shit. There’s definitely something wrong. I need help, and I can’t take the risk of someone seeing me going into the ladies’ restroom. Not while I’m on this campaign to become the local media darling of the Sinners.
I’m debating heading back toward the WAGs to ask for help when I spot a woman coming toward me down the hallway. Thank goodness it’s not the reporter from earlier.
And while it’s not one of our WAGs, she’s got one of those faces that’s instantly trustworthy. She looks open and honest, like she’s never had a mean thought or told a lie.
Part of why I win as often as I do is because I’ve learned to trust my gut. And my gut is telling me I should at least try asking this woman for help. Because my other choice is to head back down the hallway and see if I can pry Sheila away from her mother hen duties, assuming the women haven’t already left.
So I move into the center of the hallway. Her eyes slip to me then widen as she takes in my frame.
“Listen,” I swallow hard. “I need you to do something for me.”
I watch as the words wash over her face, and she finally does the math on who I am, her eyes lighting up with that starstruck look that makes me instantly queasy.
“Sure. Of course. Anything you want, Big Balls.”
