Play Date by Casey Grant Page A

affairs with a different grad student each week. “The boys
are cute,” Danielle would say, “But since I’m the only grad student
with a million dollar home, I always end up feeling like a mom—
paying for everything.”
    “It could be worth it,” said Lena.
    “When was the last time you were at the
stylist?” asked Danielle, looking great today in a tight-fitting
long-waisted top with yoga pants.
    “June,” said Lena.
    “That recently?” said Danielle
    “Of last year.”
    “Yep. I can tell. I’m making an appointment
for you tomorrow. You’ve got to get that mess blown, trimmed and
straightened.”
    “I’m fine,” said Lena.
    “No you’re not.”
    “What do you know about Shane Evans?” Lena
said, changing the subject, leaning forward, her voice low.
    “Oh no,” said Danielle.
    “’Oh no’, what?” said Lena. “Is he gay?”
    “No. But he's out of your league. Don’t do
that to yourself. Every woman in Plush Run is after Shane
Evans.”
    “Including you?” said Lena.
    “Even the married ones,” said Danielle,
“Especially the married ones.”
    “You're not being supportive.”
    “Give it up, Lena.”
    “But I see him twice a week! Our kids play
together! We’ve bonded.”
    “He doesn’t know you exist,” said
Danielle.
    “Like you'd know,” said Lena.
    “He’s divorced, loaded and gorgeous,” said
Danielle. “Just understand what a big bull’s-eye that is. His
playing field is HUGE.”
    “Oh shit,” said Lena, looking off to the
side.
    “What?”
    “That’s Brett Crater over there. Ryan got
written up at Fuzzy Pals for throwing blocks at his daughter. We
both got called into a conference. He's a total dickhead.
Threatened to press charges.”
    “Press charges against a four year-old?” said
Danielle.
    Brett was in his mid-thirties with a shaved
head and beard. A general contractor before the housing collapse,
he now spent his days happily unencumbered thanks to his well-paid
corporate lawyer wife. It was also the reason he was sitting at the
bar mid-afternoon on a Wednesday. He caught sight of the two
ladies.
    “Oh great…” mumbled Danielle, “He’s coming
over.
    Brett was good looking with a solid build and
a chiseled face that, along with the trimmed beard, made him look
rugged and a little older than he was.
    “Hello ladies,” he said with what looked like
a sneer.
    “Hi Brett, said Danielle. “Wife out of
town?”
    “Sure is, honey” replied Brett. “What are you
doing tonight?”
    “Cleaning,” said Danielle, cringing.
    “Uh huh,” said Brett as he looked down at
Lena staring out the window. “I’m glad to see your boy hasn’t been
beating up my daughter this week.”
    “He wasn’t beating up on your daughter,” said
Lena still not making eye contact. “He threw a block at her.”
    “In the interests of keeping the peace, I’ll
ignore that comment and wish you ladies a good day,” Brett said
walking out the front door.
    “He’s got a nice ass,” said Danielle.
    “Ewe,” said Lena.
    “And he’s hung. Did you see that bulge?”
    “Oh, God, please, don’t tell me you have
thing for him,” said Lena.
    “Sure. If I had no self-worth or had a tumor
growing out of my head, I’d be totally hot for him— Oh no! We’re
late!” said Danielle glancing at the clock on the wall.
    Lena and Danielle arrived to the community
center as the Casino Night volunteer meeting was winding down.
Walking up to a table at the center of the room, Meg Stauffer, the
event coordinator, told them that the only jobs still available
were cocktail waitresses.
    “Oh,” said Danielle, uncharacteristically
subdued. “What do you think, Lena? Do you want to do it?”
    “Cocktail waitress?” said Lena.
    “It’s for a good cause,” said Danielle.
    “Uh, girls, check out the cocktail outfits
before you say that,” said a weary Meg as she reached into a bag
and pulled out two tiny pieces of fabric. She tossed them on the
table in front of them.
    “Is