Second Base (6 page)

‘We’ll talk,’ he muttered. ‘And I’m watching
you,
too.’ With a last hard glare at Pete, he returned to the house.

Pete stared at his toes.

Karen slapped him, one solid crack to the side of his face. ‘What the fuck?’ she roared. ‘Are you insane? Do you go blurting everybody’s sexual deviances to their parents?’

‘Sorry, I—’

She hit him again. ‘No, Pete. No ‘sorry’. I have too much going on right now to stand here and hold your fucking hand while you crush on me. This is the way it is: I’m with Dan, not you. The relationship Dan and I have is exactly that,
his
and
mine
. What we choose to do with it is none of your fucking business, is that clear?’

‘But he’s so selfish. It’s always about him—does he even care what you want?’

She hit him a third time, a full punch that made her entire hand throb. ‘Fuck you,’ she snarled. ‘You don’t get to ask that. Get out. You’re not going back in there, just leave. Use the back gate.’

‘Karen—’

‘Get out! And take your book.’ She whirled away from him, yanking open the door in time to hear a loud shout came from the living room and the crunch of breaking glass.

Dan reached the door to the kitchen as Cindy arrived on the other side. She saw the tea, frowned and shoved him back into the room. The door slammed. ‘What’s going on with you and Karen?’

He put the mug down and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Nothing. Why?’

‘She’s out there moping like a kicked puppy. I know you guys have your problems, all couples do, but I can’t handle seeing her like that. She’s like a sister to me. If you’ve done something, I swear I’ll rip out your pubes and use them to stuff a cushion.’

‘Colourful and direct as ever, Cindy. I haven’t done anything. If she hasn’t told you herself then she’s not ready for you to know.’

‘Bullshit. She tells me everything.’

‘Maybe she needs time to deal with it first.’

‘Was it Robert?’

Dan’s hands tightened in his pockets. ‘You know about him?’

‘Of course.’

‘She told me he was dead.’

Cindy’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. ‘Yeah? Fucked up.’

‘I know.’

‘She sometimes might wish he was—the way he treats Charlaine—but the creep is very much alive. And he’s taken a shine to your mother.’

He raised his hands. ‘I’m trying not to think about that. Apparently space-cakes squeeze the racist dowager right out of her.’

‘Well something had to loosen her up.’ She grinned. ‘Come on, Dan. Tell me. Maybe she’s testing you. Maybe she did it on purpose. She must know I’d ask. I’m supposed to be getting tea for Sam.’

Dan nudged the mug towards her. ‘Then why don’t you take it and stop pestering me into telling you things I shouldn’t?’

‘Did she say don’t tell me?’

He hesitated.

‘Exactly. Tell me. I’ll find out eventually.

Dan glanced at the door, drumming his fingertips against the counter. ‘You can’t tell anybody else.’

‘Fine, just tell me what’s wrong with my friend.’

‘Charlaine has cancer.’

Cindy froze. She barely breathed. ‘Fuck off.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘Damn. That woman is the healthiest human being I’ve ever known. No wonder Karen’s a mess. Why aren’t you sending everyone home?’

‘She told me not to.’

‘Always the idiot.’ Cindy leaned against the counter and trailed her finger through a puddle of wine. ‘You’d better look after her, Dan. She’s going to need you.’

He bit his lip over a scathing response. Instead he said, ‘I look after her just fine.’

‘Then why are you here while she’s out there?’

Too much. Every barb, every threat of violence, no matter how comic, finally became too much. He leaned down, using their height difference to his advantage. ‘Because I just ordered her to give me a hand job and now she needs recovery time.’

A slow smile claimed Cindy’s lips. She stared at him for long, intense seconds before backing off. ‘Maybe you
do
know her. Forget I said anything. Pervert.’ With that last jab, she grabbed the mug of tea and swept out of the kitchen.

Dan exhaled and wandered over to the fridge. He opened it and gazed inside without seeing. The air swirled over his face and arms until goosebumps peppered his skin.

The kitchen door opened and an unfamiliar face looked through. He paused in the doorway before giving a brief thumbs up. ‘Great party, man.’ The man slouched away.

Dan slammed the fridge shut and sat at the table. In his mind’s eye he saw Karen again, face streaked with tears. He longed to hold her, to kiss her soft cheeks and wipe away the glimmering drops with the pad of his thumb.

But I can’t. She won’t let me.

On his feet again. Stopping at the site of their latest mini scene to relive her delicate touch.

‘Fuck it,’ he snarled, stomping from the kitchen and back into the living room. He aimed straight for his father, seeking comfort in his calm and unflappable exterior.

Julian met him with a pat on the back and a small smile. ‘You okay, my boy?’

‘Fine, Dad. Where’s Mum?’

‘Somewhere. Probably snooping the rest of your walls and carpets.’

Dan grunted, but said nothing. He had no fear of her finding anything she shouldn’t; everything was very well hidden. ‘The spare room isn’t ready yet, but if you tell me when you want it I’ll make the bed.’

‘No, no, we aren’t staying here. Maxine booked us a hotel.’

Dan paused his scanning of the crowd. ‘What?’

‘We figured you’d want some alone time with Karen.’

‘That’s never bothered Mum before.’

Julian smiled. ‘She’s paying a bit more attention to my ideas at the moment. Besides there’s a tea room close by and she’s adamant we have brunch there.’

Dan laughed. ‘Thank goodness. I couldn’t cope if I thought she actually wanted to give me space.’

‘She loves you, Daniel. That’s all.’

He thought again of Charlaine’s devastating news. He caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and promised never again to whine about his mother. Who knew how long he’d have her. She was far older than Charlaine and less health-conscious, despite her airs and graces.

‘I know, Dad.’ He clapped his father on the shoulder and turned, in time to meet Robert marching in from another room. He stumbled as the bigger man barrelled into him, chest first. He skipped back to avoid crushed toes.

‘You been hitting mi daughter, big man?’ he snarled.

Dan felt sick. He looked up—and up—into those narrowed eyes and tried to wet his mouth enough to speak.

Robert’s sheer bulk forced him against the snack table which creaked under his weight. ‘Well? Talk to mi, yuh piece of filth.’

Dan found his voice. With effort. ‘No.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course he doesn’t.’ Julian stepped forward, his hands raised palm out. ‘Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?’

‘Stay out of this, snowy. I’m talking to this skinny creep.’

‘This ‘skinny creep’ is my son.’

Dan touched his shoulder. ‘It’s okay, Dad. I’ve got this. Robert—’ One look at the bigger man’s face changed his approach. ‘Mr Owusu, I don’t know what you’ve heard or who you’ve been speaking to, but I’ve never hurt your daughter. Ask her yourself.’

‘I just came from her. She said otherwise.’

‘Karen did?’ He failed to keep the shock from his voice. ‘That’s ridiculous. There must be some mistake.’

‘You calling mi girl a liar?’

‘No, I—’

‘Me then?’

‘No!’

‘I won’t be called a liar to mi face. Not by the likes of you.’

Stars exploded in front of Dan’s eyes. The world tipped upside down and he caught a vague impression of a fist flying passed his face before he hit something hard. It gave beneath him and dumped him on the floor along with food and half-full cups of beer and fizzy drinks.  A smashing sound, then a wash of thin, red liquid washed over his chest and shoulder. Impact against the floor jarred his neck and back and a stab of pain raced up and down his spine. His fingers brushed a sharp edge.

What the . . .

When he next opened his eyes, he saw dozens of shoes and a pair of shiny black boots an inch away from his nose. Someone screamed. A shrill voice cried ‘Don’t!’ Another sound, like a roar, rolled over him, then the air exploded with loud voices. The scent of crushed grass and mud filled his nose and the black boots slammed down near his face.

A dull rush of pain lanced up and down the right side of his jaw. The world began to blur. Sounds of a scuffle filtered through, then a filthy pair of steel toe boots appeared, battered and dotted with white paint.

Distantly, Dan knew those shoes and their owner, but the buzzing in his ears prevented him from naming him.

He rolled onto his back and saw the shattered remains of the snack table. A frantic voice called his name. Something grabbed his legs and pulled. The debris vanished and bright light speared his eyes.

‘Dan!’

‘What?’ An explosion of pain blossomed in his jaw. He didn’t try to speak again.

Then Karen appeared, her beautiful face fuzzy and uneven. He reached out to touch her and saw his fingers perform the same wobbling, blurring dance.

‘Dan, can you sit up? Can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?’

He blinked. ‘Six.’

‘On one hand? Shit, Dan, try again. How many?’

He squeezed his eyes shut then looked again. The world swam. Colours bled into each other. Then, with a snap, the images rocked together into one solid whole. ‘Two,’ he said with confidence. As the word left his mouth, his jaw creaked in protest, fresh pain spreading from his chin to the top of his head.

‘Oh, God, that hurts!’

‘Shh, don’t talk. Come on, stand up.’

Several hands tugged his sleeves. He stood and found Karen beneath his arm, supporting his weight. His father stood opposite, holding the other arm across his shoulders.

‘What happened?’ he managed, blinking through waves of pain.

No answer. Just a sea of stunned faces.

‘Talk to me.’ On his feet, his thoughts were less foggy. He looked up. Remembered Robert. But the big man was nowhere in sight. But he could hear him. Shouting. Threatening. Calling his name.

Suddenly his jaw didn’t hurt so much. ‘What happened to Robert?’

Karen tightened her grip on his waist. ‘Pete kicked him out.’

‘Pete? Why? What happened?’

‘He punched you, Dan. I think you were actually out of it for a second or two. I’m so sorry. This is my fault.’

‘No . . .’ That didn’t seem right. ‘You didn’t do anything.’

‘If Pete hadn’t run in I don’t know what would have happened. Robert was going to kick your head in.’

Dan remembered the black shoes so close to his face. The scuffed work boots.

His stomach gave a little flutter.

‘I’m taking you upstairs.’ Karen walked on, forcing him to join her, slow, but steady. By the time they reached the door, Dan’s vision was no longer blurred. Only then did he notice the silence in the room.

Almost silence.

The music no longer played and the living room was thick with tension. But through it all, on the edges of his hearing he heard soft laughter. With effort he turned his head.

Sam sat on the sofa, a steaming mug in her hands. Her shoulders bucked as she tried, without success, to keep the giggles in. Beside her, rubbing her shoulders, sat Cindy, for once, utterly serious.

Could this evening get any more fucked up?

Upstairs, he let Karen lower him into bed.

Julian tugged off his shoes. ‘Don’t let him fall asleep, my dear.’ He brushed off his hands and smoothed back his hair. ‘He’s a tough lad, but so is your father. Look out for concussion. Keep him awake for at least an hour and watch his eyes. If he gets dizzy or sick call me, okay?’

Karen wiped her cheeks with the flat of her palms. She spoke clear and firm, but Dan knew her well enough to recognise the tremor in her voice. ‘I’ll look after him.’

‘Dad,’ he began.

‘No.’ Julian raised his hand. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow. Maybe in the afternoon? I’ll make sure everyone leaves and then I’ll lock up. You stay here.’

He longed to argue, but the pain returned to his jaw and could no longer be ignored. Every time he moved his head, colours swam before his eyes and pain raced around his skull. ‘Fine.’ Only when he heard the door click shut did he realise he’d closed his eyes. He didn’t bother opening them. ‘Kaz?’

The bed sank on his left side, then Karen was there, her soft hands stroking his face. He smelled the faint sweetness of her cocoa butter moisturiser and the mint oils she used to soften her hair.

‘Kaz . . . what a colossal fuck up.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. It went so wrong so fast, I didn’t mean for him to find out.’

Dan waved his hand around until she grasped it. ‘Whatever you said, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.’ It hurt to speak, but he felt compelled to say it. ‘Robert is—I don’t know. But don’t blame yourself for his actions. I get the feeling you’ve done plenty of that in your time.’

She stroked his hair. ‘Don’t you go all social worker on me, Daniel Scotney.’

He laughed. It hurt, but he did it anyway. ‘Sorry. Just, please, don’t blame yourself.
He’s
the crazy one.’

‘Is that a professional term?’

‘The professional term is ‘fucking nut-bag’ but I’ll stick with lay terms for you.’

He opened his eyes in time to see her lean forward, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his face.

‘You’re going to have a huge bruise in the morning.’

‘Makes a change.’

She smirked. ‘I have more fun getting my bruises.’

‘Ain’t that the truth.’ He tried to sit up, but it was half an effort. She put a hand on his chest to ease him back into place and unbuttoned his shirt.

‘We need a new table,’ she mused. ‘And a punch bowl.’