“He’s okay, I guess, but he’s on the JV team. They don’t count.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say,” said Lucy, grunting as she kneaded the dough with her hands.
“It’s just that the JV guys are immature,” said Sara. “They’re the same age as me but I’m taller than some of them.”
“Give them a chance, they’ll catch up,” advised Lucy, who wasn’t eager to see some senior take a fancy to her little freshman. “You guys can take it from here, okay? I’m going to take the garbage out and then I’m going to watch TV with Dad.”
She was stuffing the black plastic bag into a trash barrel when she noticed Tommy Stanton limping down the road. He was obviously exhausted and stumbled when he got to her driveway so she called to him.
“Hey, want some Gatorade?”
He stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees, and nodded, too exhausted to speak.
She waved and went in the house to get the bottle and when she returned he was sprawled on her porch steps. His skin was white and pasty and his eyes were unfocused, making Lucy wonder if she should call the rescue squad. “You look beat,” she said, handing him the bottle.
He didn’t answer but took the bottle and tilted it up with shaking hands and drank.
“You don’t look too good,” she said. “Should I call your mom or dad to pick you up?”
Tommy’s eyes widened and he put down the bottle. “Don’t do that, please,” he said. “I’m fine. Really.”
Lucy was doubtful. “I don’t think running after practicing all afternoon is a good idea.”
“Coach says we have to,” gasped Tommy. “Every night.”
“Every night? That’s too much on top of practice.”
Tommy shrugged. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave so Lucy seized the opportunity to question him about the hazing. “You know, I’ve been hearing rumors about the team, about the upperclassmen hazing the freshmen. Do you know anything about that?”
He looked at her warily. “Nah,” he said, ducking his head.
“What about your haircut?” she asked, noticing the quarter-inch stubble. “Was shaving your head voluntary or did they make you do it?”
“We all did it,” he said. “Even the coach.”
“But what if you didn’t want to do it?”
He looked at her as if she were crazy and struggled to his feet. “I gotta go. Thanks for the drink.”
“Anytime,” said Lucy, watching as he limped down the driveway.
Back in the house, she’d just joined Bill on the couch in the family room when the phone rang. A minute or two later Sara brought her the cordless handset. “It’s for you.”
“Me?” Lucy was surprised. These days the phone always seemed to be for the girls.
But when she answered she learned there was no doubt the call was for her. “Lucy Stone? This is your neighbor, Fred Stanton.”
“Hi, Fred,” said Lucy. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ll tell you what you can do,” he shouted. “You can leave my son alone, that’s what.”
“I think there’s a misunderstanding here,” she said. “I just gave him something to drink.”
“Yeah, and then you started telling him his coach doesn’t know what he’s doing and asking a lot of questions. Well, listen here. I won’t have it. Mind your own business.”
“But I didn’t…” began Lucy, but she was cut off when Fred slammed the phone down. She looked at Bill with a puzzled expression.
“Forget it,” said Bill, drawing her close. “This is the good part, where Bruce Willis sets off the explosion.”
CHAPTER 6
Lucy was all alone in the Pennysaver office the next morning when the bell on the door jangled and Sue breezed in with a covered dish in her hands.
“Hi, stranger,” Lucy said. “What brings you to these parts?”
“I brought the rest of my Better-than-Sex Brownies for Ted,” she said, pouting. “At least he appreciates them.”
“Everybody loved your brownies. I think they voted against them because they’re expensive to make. Butter’s three dollars a pound these days, and chocolate and nuts are expensive, too.”
“I didn’t get the impression that anybody was concerned about cost,” said Sue, with a little sniff. “They were just sucking up to Chris. The minute she said she didn’t like them they all fell right into line. She’s really something. I never met anybody so intimidating.”
Sometimes Lucy thought Sue was a tad intimidating, too, but she bit her tongue. “I think she’s frustrated, staying at home with Pear and Apple. She used to be a big executive and now all she’s got to manage is a one-year-old and a three-year-old. Sara babysits for her and she says she’s got the kids’ days organized down to the last minute. Sara got in trouble for giving them their healthful, one-hundred-percent organic snack ten minutes early.”
“And then there’s that prissy Bonnie. I mean, ‘Better-than-Sex’ is just a name, it’s not like I’m advocating fornication or anything.” Sue examined her manicure. “Though I always wonder about those goody-two-shoes types. I suspect all sorts of weird, deviant stuff goes on in their bedrooms.”
“I doubt it. Her husband’s quite a bit older than she is.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing nowadays, what with Viagra and all. He’s probably got her swinging from the chandelier like a monkey.”
“I don’t think so,” chuckled Lucy. “Sara says they’ve got some kind of parental control on the TV so that the only channel the girls can watch is PBS and even then the nature shows are forbidden in case the twins might see penguins mating or something.”
“Listen, whose side are you on here?” demanded Sue. “I don’t see why you’re defending the enemy.”
“Since when are they enemies? I thought we were all on the same team.”
“No way. It’s us versus them and you better be very clear about which side you’re on,” said Sue. “Otherwise, you’re going to find yourself losing your old friends.”
Then she was gone, leaving nothing behind except the brownies and a trace of spicy designer perfume.
“Was Sue here?” asked Ted, sniffing the air as he came in the back way.