Only in Dreams(52)

I close my eyes and try to recall all of the instruction Christian has given me. Middle finger, ring finger, and thumb in holes—check; four to five even steps as I approach, stay low, good knee bend, make sure of a stable follow through, and release. Release, damn it! The ball makes a loud popping noise as the suction around my thumb suddenly releases, the ball now at eye level.

I flinch, drawing my arms and head into my chest, preparing for the loud thud as the ball connects with alleyway. I can’t look up, I don’t want to see the descent, which in my mind, I have made peace with the fact this most certainly must end in a gutter-ball.

As I turn and see Christian’s expression, he fist pumps crazily in the air, and I realize things are not as I assume. Spinning around, I watch, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. I hold my breath as my ball crashes into the pins, sending them flying in all directions. I gasp in disbelief as one pin rockets into the lane next to us, knocking down the four standing pins from Emmie’s last roll.

I scream, turning to look at all of my friends’ faces. They aren’t shouting as I expect; instead, they are all staring, their bottom jaws hanging low.

“So does that mean I get fourteen?” I ask before delivering a wide and satisfied grin.

The utter shock quickly fades into riotous laughter and yelling. “We’re not worthy,” Colin repeats, acting as though he is bowing down to me.

“I say they automatically win, for that move,” Emmie suggests.

“Hey woman, ten poop-filled diapers are on the line here,” Colin reminds her.

“True,” she replies quickly, hopping to her feet and rubbing Colin’s shoulders, giving him a pep talk. “Are you going to let them take this away from us, babe? I know you can do this, you’re Colin Bennett. You’re the best at everything you do.”

“Yeah! That’s right,” Colin says before beginning to woof as if he were a dog.

“That was amazing,” Christian praises me.

“I know, and now I need to head to the little girl’s room,” I reply, racing up the stairs without a moment’s hesitation.

When I return, everyone is patiently waiting and watching. Emmie has already taken her turn, as well, and things are looking grim for her and Colin with only three pins knocked down.

“What happened?” I ask, walking into the pit area, looking at Emmie.

“Why don’t you ask Christian?” Emmie huffs, crossing her arms playfully.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re so easily distracted.”

“He kept chanting ‘choke’ when it was my turn.”

“Christian!” I scorn.

He looks at me, lowering his eyebrows. “Ten, we’re talking about ten stank-ass diapers.”

I laugh, walking past my friends and rolling the ball, this turn much less epic and with a total of four pins. The game continues in such a way for the next couple frames. Ultimately, my strike is enough to clench the win, but by only a few pins.

“Sorry honey,” Emmie says, running her fingers through Colin’s shaggy hair.

“We were so close,” he grumbles. “I should have never agreed to the handicap.”

It’s such a fun evening, and I’m sad to see it come to an end, but much to my delight, the rest of the crew feels the same way, and we head home for pie. It is a beautiful night, with incredible friends, and my heart feels full, at least until Christian gets me alone.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks, stepping off to the side.

“Sure,” I reply hesitantly.

“Yeah, umm—I wanted to tell you I had a lot of fun tonight,” he begins.

“I did too,” I reply, but I can tell something is bothering him. “Are you okay?”

He looks at the floor, before his eyes begin shifting nervously around the room. “Not exactly,” he says at last.

“What’s wrong?” I question, now deeply concerned.

“I’m leaving.” His reply confuses me. I stand there in silence, trying to process what he means. “I got a job in Dallas.”

“What do you mean you got a job?” I attempt to clarify.

“You know, an order. It’s a referral from that last big rush I did. They need me to help with a hand-carved stairwell banister for a home there, so I’ll need to do it on site.”

“Oh, okay. Why are you telling me this?”

He seems slightly annoyed and insulted by my question. “I’ll be gone for a couple weeks.”

“I go home in a couple weeks,” I remind him.

“I know, but we have one more date,” he adds.

“What?”

“You promised me three dates,” he repeats.