Second Shot K.O.K (The Brooklyn Bears: Season 1)

12. Absolutely Not

TWELVE

ABSOLUTELY NOT

Nalani

I woke up this morning on the old military cot that Paul had given me when I checked on him after walking Sophie out, feeling slightly more rested than I had yesterday morning.

After using the bathroom, I step out into the kitchen/living room area as Claudia is putting Savannah in the car seat. I know her flight doesn’t leave until Monday, and I thought we agreed she’d stay here, so I ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Kyle wants to meet for breakfast.” She clips her in and looks up. “I’m hoping to get a sense of what’s really going on with him.”

“Do you want me to …?” I leave it up to her.

She shakes her head. “I won’t be too long. I told him I had plans. Probably shouldn’t have lied.”

“Then don’t. Let’s make plans.”

She nods, a smile twisting at the corner of her lips. “I know this sounds so cliché, but would you like to do one of those bus tours?”

“Um, heck yes!”

Still smiling, she says, “I don’t know if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m totally being serious. I want to see everything but not freeze. It’s perfect.”

“Maybe get a pizza to bring with us?”

Late last night, Sophie ordered from Joe’s Pizzeria, and I must admit, she was right; it was the best pizza I’ve ever had. There’s something about being able to fold the slice of thin-crust pizza that somehow is still crispy and take a giant bite without the cheese sliding off of it.

“I am never going to be able to eat pizza again without wishing it was New York style pizza.”

Greens and frozen corn in hand, I walk down the stairs with Claudia and Savannah.

At the door, I remind her, “You’re an amazing mom, she’s an amazing baby, and that’s all that matters.” I lean down and give Savannah’s squishy little cheek a kiss. “In the words of Aunt Sophie: F-U-C-K him.” Then I give Claudia a quick hug. “See you in a bit.”

“Have fun with the Henny and Cock,” she says as she walks out.

Claudia is a beautiful woman who requires no makeup and doesn’t spend hours on her thick, long, naturally wavy dark hair. She’s one of those women whose natural beauty radiates from within. She’s taller than I am, which isn’t hard to be, as I’m five-three on a good day. She’s got great curves, too. But the most notable thing about her is even when she’s saying she’s sorry, she carries herself in such a way that there’s no doubt she knows herself and her ability. If I had to describe her in one word it would be fearless. From what I gather, it was hard-earned, but that little girl of hers will inherit that trait and make her world whatever she wants it to be.

Sophie has changed in a remarkable way since we first met, too. I’m not sure if it has more to do with her father’s business blowing up and her being part of it, but she’s not just a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty who just escaped her overprotective parents’ clutches, hunger-set to break rules and experience “all the things.” She’s a boss bitch, which some mistake for bossy bitch.

In a way, this feels like freshman year all over again, and God how I wish I could go back to then.

When I get to the door that leads to the henhouse, it’s unlatched, and when I push it open, I find Paul out by the hen house with a paintbrush.

“Morning, kid.”

“You have an extra brush?” I ask, walking down the ramp, wondering how the heck he got out here and didn’t bust his ass on the ramp.

“Sure do.”

As I get closer, I see the wood looks like new. “Did you replace some of these boards?”

“Sanded the worst of them down.”

“You did this?” I ask.

He turns and hands me a clean brush. “I did.”

“Oh my God, what did that doctor give you?” I ask then quickly realize how rude that may have come off. “I didn’t mean?—”

“Nope, don’t do that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my eighty years, it’s to always say what you mean.” He sits on the edge of the henhouse platform and crosses his arms. “There are a handful of dates that don’t hold a memory”—he taps the side of his head—“that I don’t wanna cope with, so I soak them in a bit of alcohol. And before you give me a lesson, remember, I’ve lived on this earth longer than any website or self-help book has been around. And, contrary to what you youngsters believe, wisdom is more valuable than those damn phones you all seem to focus on.” He pushes up and grabs his brush from the paint tray. “Used to bounce back quicker. Had a stroke not too long ago; forgot to take that into consideration.”

I dip my brush into the paint. “You think you could give me a list of those dates, so if I see a hen wandering around, I know to peek in on you?”

“Suppose I could.” He nods.

After a few too many moments of silence, I ask, “Okay, so honestly, what did he give you?”

“I was dehydrated as hell. He hooked me up to an IV.”

“Damn,” I sigh.

“I’ve always been one handsome son-of-a-bitch, kid.” He chuckles.

Laughing, I nod in agreement. “You’re at least six foot two; don’t sell yourself short.”

“The new girl in 4A has a sense of humor.” He chuckles.

“That I do, but eighty may be the new forty, and you still have all that fabulous hair.”

“I like you, kid.”

“I like you, too.”

Watching him move around the henhouse with his walker, I can tell how annoying it is to him, but he does use it, though it’s more for balance. So one could see how alcohol would cause a fall, which could be far worse next time.

Paul and I paint until it starts to drizzle. Then we head inside, and watching him manage the ramp with that walker freaks me out, but he does it.

He freaking does it.

When Claudia returned, she told me, “I haven’t figured it out yet, but something is going on.” Then she went quiet, which, even though I have only known her a few days, I know when she internalizes.

The bus tour was fun, the different areas of the city all have places I will further explore but, ultimately, I’m happy that I chose the place in Greenwich with the henhouse.

Walking back from the last stop, I can see that Claudia could easily slide back into quietly stressed, so I suggest we grab a couple slices of pizza, bring Paul a slice or two, and then tell her about painting.

When we get back to the apartment, there are several packages for me just inside the door, including a portable crib, which makes Claudia tear up.

“You know I’m leaving in?—”

“Until then, she has a bed and a place to roll around that, unlike the floor, won’t be cold and give her slivers. It’s a gift. You can take it with you or leave it here for when you return.”

“Thank you.”

“No,” I whisper into the phone as I exit the room, quiet as to not wake them.

“Bzzz,” she says over me. “Wrong answer. A sister needs us.”

“She’s your big, not mine. She needs you,” I whine.

“Three things. One, my big is sad and depressed because your big is a giant twatwaffle. Two, I’d like to think I’m the reason you came back, but I’m not—it’s KOK. Three, my father wants me to cover the Bears’ home games, bought a box, and I’m too busy to make new friends to fill it, so you’re it. Four?—”

“You said three.”

“I’m using four because you haven’t caved for twat big, KOK, or box seats.”

I sigh. “When did you get to be such a bully?”

“When my father realized he didn’t have a son, and my ovaries don’t make me incapable, and he’s handing over responsibilities left and right. Back to four, we need to get Claudia a job and settle her. I like her. Bonus, I can steal her baby when I need a fix so I don’t get any silly notions about having my own.”

“She makes my biological clock tick, and I didn’t even think I had one.”

“She didn’t make mine tick; she made it turn into an air horn. Volume, max.” She sighs.

“Her snuggles are like a drug. I want to cuddle the hen when she’s not here,” I admit.

“I’m not saying I want a baby now, but I do think I’m going to start making a list of names. Yours will be added if you literally stop cock-blocking yourself.”

“Fine, whatever, but what if she doesn’t want to bring Savannah to a hockey game with eighteen thousand strangers and her asshole ex?” I sit up.

“You tell her I have a box that needs filling.”

“I fear that could come off as wildly inappropriate.”

Sophie:

I’ve changed plans. I’m doing pregame interviews instead of post-game interviews. A car will pick you three ladies and Noelle up, so we girls are free to do whatever we want afterward. Text me as soon as you pull on to Bears’ property. I’ll meet you at the press gate.

Claudia:

Thank you.

Me:

Aye, Aye, Captain.

From the bathroom, where I’m probably overdoing my makeup and … everything, I hear Claudia giggle and decide to step away from the straightener before my stress primping causes me to fry my hair and embrace the joy that’s right here and right now.

When I walk out, Claudia is lying on the mattress that was delivered yesterday while we were at breakfast and had to be left alone to allow it to expand for twenty-four hours, as instructed. She’s holding Savannah up in the air, and she’s kicking her little feet.

“What did I miss?”

She looks over at me. “Miss?”

“You laughed.”

“At your response to Sophie.”

I sit down beside her and see Savannah smiling. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I actually love hockey, and it will be another first of Savannah’s.” She brings her down and kisses her little cheek. “You truly see everything for the first time again through their eyes.”

I reach over and run my hand down Savannah’s back. “Little one, you’re so loved.”

When we climb in the car, I see Noelle has already been picked up.

“Oh my God, you haven’t changed one bit.”

Is she frowning?

“I mean, that makes one of us.”

She waves her hand in front of herself. “Please tell me I don’t look like I gave up. I put some effort in this. Hopefully, Sophie won’t be so … She’s changed.”

“The first time I saw you was during rush, and I remember you were the Anne Hathaway to Lauren’s Cameron Diaz.”

She cocks her head to the side. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

I take the car seat from Claire, who says, “Hathaway is classic. Diaz is comedic?”

“Yes, beauty versus bombshell.”

“She was your number one pick for a big, so you picked beauty,” Noelle states with a lift of her shoulder. “We took part in matching, so I know.”

“Sophie and I decided to choose for each other. We wanted someone who was least like us to learn from,” I admit.

She gasps. “Sophie didn’t choose me?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times because I’m not sure what answer she needs, but there isn’t another because that was the truth and should be flattering.

She waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter.” Then she smiles at Claudia. “You must be Savannah’s mom.”

“Claudia.” She almost laughs. “And it kind of does seem like it matters to you.”

She leans back into her seat. “Just ignore me. I’m not trying to be a buzz kill.”

“She needed someone a little more focused, and I needed less. It’s a compliment, honestly,” I explain.

“Gah, this shit with Lauren has me questioning why I’m so easily dismissed, you know?”

“What thing?” I ask.

“Sophie didn’t tell you?” she asks and again answers her own question. “She thinks it’s stupid; of course she didn’t.”

“Or she didn’t want to tell your story if you didn’t want to share it,” Claudia offers.

She’s going to be a great shrink.

“She says it’s because we grew apart, but it’s because she outgrew me.”

“Wait, back up. Why did she say you grew apart? What is the because part?”

“She didn’t ask me to be in her wedding.” She crosses her arms. “But she asked some of the other girls.” She leans forward. “Did she ask you?”

“No. I haven’t spoken to her since the goodbye party when I was supposed to transfer to Lincoln.”

“She was so pissed Dash was leaving,” Noelle says with a little twist of her lips. “She never believed he’d make it pro, so as soon as his magic dick left campus, she sank her talons into Louie.”

“Louie, as in the nerdy hot tech geek you were crushing on and afraid to approach?”

“Yep.”

“Fuck her. That’s?—”

“Lauren,” she says. “That’s Lauren.”

Claudia leans over and takes her hand. “With all the kindness in my heart, I want you to accept the truth, and that is you’re a good friend, and she never deserved you.”

“I know. I just …” She shrugs. “She told me I was stupid for buying the bookstore and wanting to be a romance author because I’ve never even had a real relationship, so how could I even know what it was like to be a heroine in a story. She?—”

“You bought a bookstore?”

“My dad got sick and, well, he’s gone and left me some money.”

“She said that shit to you instead of supporting you when you were going through that!” I gasp.

Her face crunches up. “God, what is wrong with me for caring?”

“It’s not about the caring part—that makes you human. It’s the caring about people so small that they need to treat others like shit to make themselves feel big.”

“After her wedding, I’m going to break it off with her.”

“Why go?” I ask.

“It’s her wedding?” she asked, shaking her head. “I need help. I know.”

The car pulls to a stop. “You just need to talk through what you already know and realize how awesome it is that you’re chasing your dreams instead of a man.”

“I need to see this bookstore.”

“It’s small and needs more work. Maybe?—”

“It’s yours. It’s your freaking own business, Noelle. It’s your dream. You made that happen. I wanna see it.” I laugh. “Can we skip the damn game and go now?”

The door opens, and Sophie looks at me. “You were supposed to text when you got close.”

“Apparently, I didn’t need to.” I laugh.

She holds up her phone, and I see an app. “Of course you don’t. We still share locations.”

“When did we start doing that?” I ask, completely confused as to why I haven’t addressed how messed up that seems..

She waves me off. “Let’s go.”

Climbing out, I scold her, “You didn’t tell me that Noelle owns a bookstore.”

Claudia hands the car seat out to me.

“That’s her story to tell.” Sophie smiles at her. “One of many.”