Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“No, I came by to meet some of the kids I’ll be coaching.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That group of little cuties? Oh my God, that’s adorable!”
“Yeah, right.” Court rolled his eyes and gestured to the cards I was in the midst of shuffling. “What are you doing with those?”
“I have to set a stack on each table so they’re ready to go when the doors open for the next group.” I grimaced at the state of the refreshment bar. “I need to set out a new box of cookies too and straighten the napkins and—would you mind doing that for me? Pretty please? I mean…if you have a minute.”
His cartoon-style jaw drop was rather amusing. “Did Vinnie set this up with you?”
“Vinnie? Set up…what? Forget it. I’ve got this.” I gathered the cards and skirted the table so fast, my scarf breezed behind me and clung to Court’s arm as I passed him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to chat, but it was good to see you again. Later!”
“Wait. Hang on. I’ll do the cards,” he grunted, wiggling his fingers meaningfully. “You take care of the food.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“Gah, you’re the best! Twenty cards per group, please, and if you could just tidy that prize table a bit, that would be amazing.”
“You’re pushing your luck.”
“I know, but I have gin, remember?” I handed over the cards and sailed away before Court could change his mind.
Now that he was here, I didn’t want him to go…for purely selfish reasons. And no, not because of an obsolete crush.
See, I wasn’t the only volunteer who’d showed up, but we were minus Stacy’s mom, Court’s mom, and Bryson. That left me with Kathy Anderson and Faith Thompson, who were sweet but notoriously chatty. No offense to them, but they were a tad useless and I understood. This was their social scene.
Their friends and peers made up the bulk of the Friday evening funsters. This was where they caught up with people they might not have bumped into at church on Sunday or in town midweek. They compared notes about their grown children, shared photos of grandkids and pets, and kibitzed about life in general over contraband wine, Henderson’s famous maple cookies, and Rise and Grind’s complimentary coffee.
There were a few families and a handful of octogenarians who couldn’t make the afternoon game. And then there was me, the lone single gay man filling in time on a Friday night.
It was easier with Bryson here. He was gay too and funny and charming and…he was nice company. It was so odd for him to miss two weeks in a row. Maybe he was busy at work or traveling. Or…maybe he was dating someone new and—
“Done. Now what?”
I unwrapped the napkins as I spun to face Court. “Uh, well, that’s a trick question and it depends on how long you can stay.”
He set his hands on his hips and cast his gaze around the hall and at the reception desk, where the next group of Bingo-loving funsters was lined up and ready to roll.
“I don’t have anything better to do, so what the fuck?”
Okay, that wasn’t the spirit I was looking for, but I’d take it. “Awesome! This is going to be fun!”
Court lifted a brow. “If you say so. This is volunteering, right?”
“Well…sure.”
“Okay, then what do you want me to do?”
“You can either call the numbers like you just did or…you can run around checking the winners’ cards, provide new cards, and make sure Kathy and Faith aren’t giving away the whole damn table.”
“Those are terrible choices.”
“Sorry. That’s all I have.” I hiked my thumb toward the women hooting with laughter at the prize table. “That’s their domain and if I somehow convinced them to switch things up, we’d be here till midnight. That’s not an exaggeration. It’s happened.”
“Uh, okay. I guess I’ll do numbers,” he replied as if the job description required him to swallow a shot of broken glass.
“Fabulous. I’ll do the welcome bit and introduce you once everyone is seated.”
“Sounds easy. All I’m doing is reading numbers out loud, right?”
I nodded and gave my best jazz hands. “With pizzazz!”
Court scowled. “I don’t do pizzazz.”
“You can do it! I believe in you.” I squeezed his elbow reassuringly and picked up the mic to address the hall. “Welcome to another fantastic Friday, people! Do we have any Bingo lovers here tonight?”
The crowd went wild.
Okay…no. I got a single “woot woot” and a weak round of applause from the forty-or-so attendees.
“We love you, Ivan!” Mrs. Yeager, my fifth-grade teacher, yelled.
“Thanks. Hey, I have exciting news! Court Henderson is here for a visit, and he’s graciously agreed to help run things up front tonight. Show him some love, Elmwood!”
This time, the crowd did go wild. Raucous cheers and a few wolf whistles echoed off the walls. Nice.
I handed the mic over to Court, who seemed more freaked out than pumped up by the enthusiastic welcome.