salute.
“Ha!” Sandra crowed as they slid into their seats. “Pathetic, those Brits.”
“Sandra, you’re holding a bat. What did you think they were going to do?”
Sandra ignored her, looking around. “Not too many old ones in tonight.”
“
Strictly Come Dancing
is on, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Erin’s parents were among the show’s devoted followers. Often, when she was in her room studying, she couldhear it blaring from their TV. Sometimes she’d come in and watch it with them. It made her mother happy. It also helped Erin take her mind off the fact that she was home alone on a Saturday night.
She and Sandra had no sooner gotten comfortable at their hobbit-sized table than out of the corner of her eye Erin spotted Old Jack waddling toward them, his expression uncharacteristically grave.
“Evenin’, ladies.”
“Hey-o, Jack,” said Sandra with a broad smile. “It’s been a while.”
“Too true.” Jack held out his hand. “Gimme the bat.”
Erin groaned.
Sandra looked offended. “What, you think I’m gonna club someone?”
“San, just give him the bat,” Erin urged.
“It’s not you beatin’ on people I’m worried about,” Jack explained. “It’s some of the other elements here.”
“Tourists?” Sandra mouthed.
Jack nodded curtly. “All I need is for a few of them to get pissed out of their skulls and grab it away from you, and I’ve got a real situation on my hands.”
Sandra frowned. “That’s never gonna happen. When’s the last time there was a good punch-up here?”
“A month ago. Two of them PJ people were in their cups and got into an argument over whether the Salmon King could triumph over the Guardian of the Toadstool or some such nonsense. Before you knew it, they were throwing punches and crackin’ each other over the head with chairs. If it wasn’t for Liam, they’d have smashed the place to bits.”
“All right,” Sandra grumbled, handing over the bat.
“Thank you.” He leaned over the table, looking like he was going to burst with a secret. “What d’you think of Frick and Frack over at the bar, hoisting a few?”
“Who?” Sandra asked innocently.
“Laughin’ it up like the old days, letting bygones be bygones,” Old Jack continued, looking for a reaction from Erin.
“Good for them,” Erin replied flatly. It made perfect sense. Angry as Jake had been at Rory cutting him dead, it had always been plain to see that it pained him deeply, like being shunned by your own flesh and blood. She wasn’t all that surprised to see them together, though she doubted Jake had welcomed Rory with open arms.
Old Jack looked disappointed with her answer. “Is that all you have to say about it?”
“Stop being a mixer, Jack,” Sandra warned.
“Right, right.” Old Jack sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “What can I get you two? Black Velvets?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Erin.
Sandra agreed. “One of us’ll be over in a few to pick them up.”
“Good enough,” said Jack. He held the cricket bat in both hands, weighing it, assessing it. “I think I might get one of these permanent.”
“Just remember to hide it from Bettina,” said Erin with a grin.
* * *
Jack gone, Sandra plunged immediately into the topic of the night.
“What do you think happened with Jake and Rory?”
“Obvious: Rory went and begged for forgiveness and Jake accepted his apologies.”
Sandra looked disappointed. “I know. He’s good at spouting the tough words sometimes, is Jake, but in the end, he’s a big softie.”
“I know.”
“I hope he’s making Rory crawl a bit.”
Erin rested her chin in the palm of her hand and studied her friend’s face. “You’re very big on the crawling, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you think he should suffer at least a little bit for what he did?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there you go, then.”
Erin couldn’t quite see the bar from where she and Sandra were sitting, and she was glad.
“Ha!” Sandra crowed as they slid into their seats. “Pathetic, those Brits.”
“Sandra, you’re holding a bat. What did you think they were going to do?”
Sandra ignored her, looking around. “Not too many old ones in tonight.”
“
Strictly Come Dancing
is on, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Erin’s parents were among the show’s devoted followers. Often, when she was in her room studying, she couldhear it blaring from their TV. Sometimes she’d come in and watch it with them. It made her mother happy. It also helped Erin take her mind off the fact that she was home alone on a Saturday night.
She and Sandra had no sooner gotten comfortable at their hobbit-sized table than out of the corner of her eye Erin spotted Old Jack waddling toward them, his expression uncharacteristically grave.
“Evenin’, ladies.”
“Hey-o, Jack,” said Sandra with a broad smile. “It’s been a while.”
“Too true.” Jack held out his hand. “Gimme the bat.”
Erin groaned.
Sandra looked offended. “What, you think I’m gonna club someone?”
“San, just give him the bat,” Erin urged.
“It’s not you beatin’ on people I’m worried about,” Jack explained. “It’s some of the other elements here.”
“Tourists?” Sandra mouthed.
Jack nodded curtly. “All I need is for a few of them to get pissed out of their skulls and grab it away from you, and I’ve got a real situation on my hands.”
Sandra frowned. “That’s never gonna happen. When’s the last time there was a good punch-up here?”
“A month ago. Two of them PJ people were in their cups and got into an argument over whether the Salmon King could triumph over the Guardian of the Toadstool or some such nonsense. Before you knew it, they were throwing punches and crackin’ each other over the head with chairs. If it wasn’t for Liam, they’d have smashed the place to bits.”
“All right,” Sandra grumbled, handing over the bat.
“Thank you.” He leaned over the table, looking like he was going to burst with a secret. “What d’you think of Frick and Frack over at the bar, hoisting a few?”
“Who?” Sandra asked innocently.
“Laughin’ it up like the old days, letting bygones be bygones,” Old Jack continued, looking for a reaction from Erin.
“Good for them,” Erin replied flatly. It made perfect sense. Angry as Jake had been at Rory cutting him dead, it had always been plain to see that it pained him deeply, like being shunned by your own flesh and blood. She wasn’t all that surprised to see them together, though she doubted Jake had welcomed Rory with open arms.
Old Jack looked disappointed with her answer. “Is that all you have to say about it?”
“Stop being a mixer, Jack,” Sandra warned.
“Right, right.” Old Jack sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “What can I get you two? Black Velvets?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Erin.
Sandra agreed. “One of us’ll be over in a few to pick them up.”
“Good enough,” said Jack. He held the cricket bat in both hands, weighing it, assessing it. “I think I might get one of these permanent.”
“Just remember to hide it from Bettina,” said Erin with a grin.
* * *
Jack gone, Sandra plunged immediately into the topic of the night.
“What do you think happened with Jake and Rory?”
“Obvious: Rory went and begged for forgiveness and Jake accepted his apologies.”
Sandra looked disappointed. “I know. He’s good at spouting the tough words sometimes, is Jake, but in the end, he’s a big softie.”
“I know.”
“I hope he’s making Rory crawl a bit.”
Erin rested her chin in the palm of her hand and studied her friend’s face. “You’re very big on the crawling, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you think he should suffer at least a little bit for what he did?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there you go, then.”
Erin couldn’t quite see the bar from where she and Sandra were sitting, and she was glad.
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