Page 32 of The Hard Hitter

Even if she was the staying type, we have no future; she’s off relationships and insists she eventually screws everything up. Not that I’m looking for more from Sam.

I’m not, and those kinds of thoughts shouldn’t be running around my head. We have an arrangement, nothing more, and that’s the way we both want it. Everything is going to work out just fine.

10

Sam

With a warm pie on the passenger seat beside me, I drive toward Zander’s place, enjoying the sleek new rental car he arranged for me. I plan to pay him back for all of this, that’s for sure. As I run my hands over the steering wheel, my phone rings. Since I synched it with the vehicle earlier, I glance at the caller ID, and press the button on the steering wheel to answer the call.

“Hey Mom,” I say.

“You sound funny.”

“I’m driving.”

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t be on the phone when you’re driving.”

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s hands-free. You’re on speakerphone.” When she doesn’t say anything, I add, “I’m in a rental car. Mine is in the shop.”

“You should have told your father. He would have lent you his truck.”

God, the thought of driving Dad’s old beater truck from the twentieth century does not sound appealing. Then again, I drove it back and forth to school when the weather was bad. Beggars can’t be choosers and all, even if I can barely reach the pedals. We certainly don’t come from a lot, and appreciate all we have.

My brain pauses at that thought. What would my folks think of the sports car I’m in, or the mansion I’m driving to?

“I’m calling about the fourth. You can still make it, right?”

Damn, I’ve been so preoccupied with work, not to mention Zander, I forgot all about the annual family BBQ.

“Sure, yeah, I’ll be there.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a knot forms in my stomach. While I love all my uncles, aunts and cousins, sometimes they can be loud, obnoxious, and…nosey. I am so tired of telling them I’m happy being single, that I don’t need a man in my life.

I laugh, but it comes out as a snort. I can just imagine the looks on their faces if I showed up with Zander. They’d be all over him like flies to honey. His presence would certainly take the attention off me, and maybe I could enjoy the BBQ and fireworks in peace.

But I’m not about to ask Zander. That’s overstepping what we have here. But that does remind me of the text I received from Todd earlier today that I haven’t responded to. He seems nice enough; maybe a little too nice. I could always ask him to the BBQ, but I wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea. I’m not interested in a relationship with him, so best not to respond at all. Although I don’t want to be rude.

I make a mental note to talk to Quinn, ask how best to handle the situation. She set it up from the goodness of her heart, and I don’t want to upset her.

“Honey, are you okay? What was that noise?”

Just me snorting…

“Oh, nothing. Just street noise,” I fib, not about to share my innermost thoughts with her over the phone. Or at all.

“Will you be bringing anyone to the barbeque?” Mom asks, and I roll my eyes so hard, I nearly give myself a headache. I guess I knew she was going to ask sooner or later. Any second now I expect her to bring up children, and how she and Dad aren’t getting any younger, and are still waiting.

“No, but I will bring Dad’s favorite ribs,” I say.

“Okay, dear. I believe Marion said something about bringing her nephew Caleb. You remember Caleb, don’t you?”

How could I forget him? Since my fiancé left me, both Mom and her best friend Marion have been trying to set me up with Caleb, the mortician. No thank you.

Dammit, I really should bring someone with me to end their meddling.

“I remember Caleb,” I say.

“Oh, good,” she says, her voice full of enthusiasm. “We’ll see you Saturday.”

“Bye, Mom, love you.” With that, I end the call and practically bang my head against the steering wheel. I take a turn, and push all thoughts of the upcoming festivities—and the mortician—from my brain.

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