A Reason to Stay (15 page)

Faith cringed. Sure, she wanted children when the timing was
right, but certainly she didn't want Geary's family weighing in on their personal decisions.

Dilly said she was about two months along, and that she wasn't even getting sick this time.

Faith gave her sister-in-law a hug. “I'm so happy for all of you,” she said, while trying not to think about how Dilly and Bobby Lee barely controlled the offspring they already had.

As if on cue, the twins tore across the badly stained industrial carpet toward the arcade room—that is, until Bobby Lee hollered and told them to get back. Without acknowledging their father's instruction, they diverted and chased each other, running in front of the neighboring teams.

Dilly marched in that direction. “Gabby! Gunner! Get over here,” she shouted.

The twins ignored her as well and raced over to the vending machines near the back wall. “Dad, can we have a quarter?” they shouted over their shoulders while pounding the glass.

Faith looked over at Geary. Normally, their eyes would connect in solidarity, exchanging a silent understanding that they would raise their own children differently when the time came.

Geary wasn't paying attention. He grabbed his rental shoes and bent to put them on.

She picked up her own rental shoes, set her resolve, and sat in a seat opposite him. She removed her leather flats and shoved on the ugly brown lace-up rentals, wondering how many pairs of sweating feet had been inside. She pulled the laces tight and tied them, then stood, primed for a face-off.

Bobby Lee frowned. “Well, look who's here.” He pointed toward the door.

Her eyes followed where he directed. Walking toward them was Stacy Brien. Her dark hair was pulled up and carelessly clipped at the top of her head, showing off large gold earrings dangling from her ears. The image gave off the exotic look of a gypsy.

The vixen waved.

Great. That'
s all I need this afternoon on top of everything
else.

Bobby Lee wiggled his fingers in a wave at Stacy, then turned back toward Faith, his eyes flashing yellow lights of caution.

Wendell clapped his hands together. “Well, look who's here. You up for some bowling, Stacy? You're welcome to join us.”

She smiled and shook her head. “No thanks, just heard y'all were over here and thought I'd come watch for a bit before my massage appointment.”

Wendell nodded. “Ah—well, okay then.” To everyone else he said, “Okay, Marins, y'all ready for this?” He moved to the ball rack and tried several out, finally settling on a dark navy ball with tiny white specks.

Veta set up the electronic score sheet, seeming to punch buttons randomly. She hollered back over her shoulder, “We're the Lane Changers. What's your team name going to be?”

Dilly pulled her long red hair back and secured it with a rubber band. “Uh, we'll be the King Pins.”

Bobby Lee pointed at his wife's stomach. “More like the Diaper Pins.”

She playfully slapped his arm. “People don't even use those anymore, silly.”

Stacy slid into a seat not far from Geary. He nodded hello and she gave him a brilliant smile, which irked Faith to no end.

Bobby Lee sidled in next to the vixen and pulled off his boots. “Whew,” he said, waving one near her. “Dilly, I think you'd better buy some more of that foot powder.”

Stacy didn't hide the fact she was repulsed by the smell. She darted up and moved over behind Wendell and Veta.

Bobby Lee winked at Faith.

Wendell seemed to second-guess his initial choice of bowling ball and eyed another on the rack. Dilly sidled up next to him and bumped her dad's shoulder with hers. “C'mon, Dad. The
ball doesn't matter. It's all in the follow-through.” She showed him by example, though her practice swing seemed a bit off-kilter.

“The mighty King Pins will whoop on the Lane Changers any day of the week, and twice on Sunday,” she bragged. “Oh, well, will you look at that? It's Sunday,” she said loud enough for the entire bowling alley crowd to hear.

Bobby Lee grinned. “That so?”

Dilly nodded. “Yup, you just wait and see.” Her head turned. “Gabby! Gunner! Stay close now.”

Bobby Lee waved his children back. “Do what your mama says or there will be consequences.”

Faith let out a heavy sigh. Critical work hours were ticking away, and she was stuck in a bowling alley of all places, with misbehaving children wreaking havoc on her mental state. And a dark-haired diva who set Faith's nerves on edge every time she came near.

Still, she'd agreed to sing along, no matter how off-key the situation. Now she just needed to make the best of it.

Dilly was up first. Her sister-in-law positioned her ball against the top of her stomach, then took several quick steps toward the foul line and swung through, releasing the ball down the lane. She scowled after discovering she'd only knocked down five pins.

Her second try resulted in a disappointing gutter ball.

Little Sam popped the thumb from his mouth and clapped his chubby hands together.

Dilly returned to her seat and kissed the top of his head. “Thank you, baby.”

Geary looked back at his sister and gloated. “Ah, too bad. Guess it's my turn now.” He stood and retrieved his ball from the return. Acting like a pro or something, he waved first one open palm then the other over the air jet.

Faith rolled her eyes.

“Watch and see how it's done,” he said to no one in particular. Stacy mouthed “good luck” in his direction and flashed him another brilliant smile.

Dilly scooped up Sam from the adjoining seat and handed the toddler off to her family's friend. “Stacy, do you mind? I swear, I seem to have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.”

Stacy opened her mouth to protest, but Dilly scurried away.

Geary lined up with confidence.

“Careful,” Wendell warned his son with a wide smile. “Pride goes before a fall.” He stood with his hands on his hips and watched as Geary made his approach and drove his ball down the lane.

In a near perfect arc, the black bowling ball made its way down the right side, very near the gutter, then turned at the last minute to knock down all the pins.

Geary pumped the air with his fist. “Strike!”

“Very good, son. Very good,” his mother commended.

Stacy clapped. Little Sam mimicked her and pressed his pudgy palms together several times.

Faith sighed. Obviously, Geary was not new to this bowling business—a game she'd only occasionally tried, each time playing badly.

Veta turned. “Faith, dear. You're up next.”

She stood. She needed to save face and not make a fool of herself. Stepping forward, she tried to ignore the pressure and mentally conjured the little she remembered about how to line up and just where to aim the ball.

“You got this?” Wendell asked, hopeful.

Faith nodded. “Yup, I got this.” Her words sounded far more confident than she felt. Still, she drew a deep breath, suddenly hearing her mother's voice in her head.
Fake it until you make it.

She stepped onto the wooden platform and positioned herself at the foul line. All she had to do was aim her ball at the center arrow painted on the lane several feet ahead of her. She might not
make a strike like Geary. But she wouldn't completely humiliate herself.

She squared her shoulders. From behind, Geary was no doubt watching her every move. As was Stacy. Even though it was a long shot, she wanted to score a strike and wipe off the smug smile she imagined on that woman's face.

With artificial confidence, she took one step and pulled the ball back. Her feet moved through the rest of the approach and she followed through, letting the ball make its way down the alley.

She held her breath, watching as the ball slowly rolled forward, a little too much to the right, she was afraid. Then, in a stroke of pure luck, pins flew.

“Attagirl.” Wendell watched from the sideline. “A baby split.”

A what?

She looked over at her father-in-law, trying to hide her confusion.

“You can pick up the two and the seven. You can do it,” he assured her.

She nodded and retrieved her ball from the return, passing right in front of Geary on the way. Not daring to look at her husband, she mimicked drying her palms on the air jet.

Just fake it
, she reminded herself.

Her second try wasn't as big of a success. She only took down the seven pin.

“Ah, better luck next time,” she heard Geary say, in the same syrupy manner one might use to give condolences to a child whose pet frog had died.

She didn't need any superfluous sympathy, thank you very much.

She parked her bottom in the hard orange chair, then yanked her iPhone from her bag and scanned some of the articles she'd bookmarked.

Little Gabby planted herself next to Faith. “Are you all mad again?”

Dilly quickly waved over her daughter. “C'mon over here and
let me do something with that hair.” She licked her fingers and settled some wild blonde tresses behind the little girl's ear.

Gabby wiggled away and went back to chasing her brother around the seating area, accidently bumping against Faith as she ran by.

Frustrated, Faith slipped her phone back in her purse. Her sister-in-law stood and rubbed at her back. “I think I'm the one needing that massage.”

“Yes, and on that note I'd better get going.” Apparently, Stacy had quickly tired of sitting on the sidelines, in more ways than one.

Everyone bid her goodbye, then focused back on the competition.

While Geary leaned over his mother, explaining again how the automatic scoring worked, Faith folded her arms tightly against her chest and waited for her next turn.

“Hey, are you guys hungry?” Bobby Lee plopped down several white cardboard containers on a nearby table. “Anybody up for some spring rolls or crab Rangoon?”

Gabby and Gunner slammed up against the table, out of breath. “I'm hungry,” Gunner said, brushing sweaty hair off his forehead with his arm.

Gabby leaned over with her arms on the table. “Me too. I'm starving, Daddy.”

Faith's own growling stomach suggested she was hungry as well.

“Okay. Now, stand back,” Bobby Lee instructed. He motioned little Sam over and opened the tops of the steaming containers. Before he doled out food, he handed the twins and Sam fortune cookies, reversing the common “dinner first” mantra.

Her brother-in-law saw her watching and tossed her a fortune cookie. “Here, catch.”

She ripped off the clear cellophane and broke the crisp cookie in two, shoving a piece inside her mouth. The fortune inside read,
He who climbs fastest doesn't always climb higher.

She groaned and crumpled the piece of paper, no longer hungry. Even the fortune cookie was laying guilt on her.

Wendell stood behind his wife, looking up at the scoreboard. He rubbed his wife's shoulders—even though she was the competition.

Maybe she'd gone a bit overboard with her reaction. Truth was, she really could hang out with Geary and his family for another couple of hours and still make the broadcast. She'd just hoped to squeeze in more research before tomorrow. And Geary's attitude had rubbed her wrong, the way he didn't understand her priorities.

Of course, she didn't initially embrace his either.

If she let this battle escalate, would she really win? Her parents' relationship was a clear answer to that question.

Still, it wasn't easy when what she wanted to do and what she
should
do were in conflict.

Bobby Lee stepped up and aligned his shot. He pulled back his arm and let his ball go, sending it speeding down the lane and knocking down the entire ten pins. A strike!

Her brother-in-law celebrated with an embarrassing amount of gusto. First he squatted and waddled along the foul line, screeching like some waterfowl in mating season. Then he stood and grabbed his mother-in-law's arm, pulling her out of her seat. He twirled her around. “So how does it feel to be a winner, Queen Lane Changer?”

Veta laughed. “Good. Feels really good.”

Faith couldn't help but smile. No doubt Geary's family was a bit offbeat—even annoying at times. But they were also kind and generous and devoted to one another.

Hadn't both Dilly and Bobby Lee had her back when it came to Stacy Brien?

Geary patted his brother-in-law on the back. “Nice one, Bobby Lee.”

In the end, the Lane Changers won, leaving the King Pins licking their wounds.

Wendell didn't bother to hide the fact he hated losing. Frowning, he scooped a fortune cookie from the table and broke it open. He popped some of the hard cookie in his mouth, then read the fortune. “Now I'm warned this will not be my lucky day?” he complained, raising the piece of paper in the air. “Ah, what does some cookie maker know? Every day with this pretty lady is my lucky day.” He took Veta into his arms and dipped her, ending with a Rhett Butler/Scarlett O'Hara kiss that made even Faith blush. He puffed his chest. “That's how that's done, boys.”

Geary laughed and eased his feet out of the rental shoes. “You know what they say—those who can't bowl, kiss.”

Dilly joined them with little Sam on her hip. “Oh really? Who says that?”

Their eyes met then, Faith's and Geary's. His gaze lingered.

She swallowed the lump building in her throat—and her pride. With a timid smile, she mouthed, “Congratulations.”

He rewarded her feeble conciliatory gesture with a smile of his own, the same one she'd seen on their honeymoon when she'd suggested they might go for a hike on the island, take in the scenery.

“The only scenery I care to enjoy is right here,” Geary had teased while pulling the coverlet up over their bare shoulders for the third morning in a row.