Blood Sports by Eden Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

Beckham got red-carded. England in flames. Footballers rioting.”
    “Oh, yeah,” Tom said. Afterward, Tom had deliberately kept asking which Spice Girl Beckham was dating because it bugged Stan. Which would be more entertaining if he wasn’t so easily bugged. Still, anything to make the hours pass. “I thought you said it was soccer.”
    Stan glared at him.
    “Weird time for a game anyways,” Tom said, turning back to his
Enquirer
.
    “It’s in France,” Stan said slowly. “It’s a half a day ahead of us.”
    “Ah,” Tom said. “Some guy said it was 4-2 on the penalties.”
    “Do you even know what that means?” Stan said.
    “Nope. Not a clue.”
    “It means we missed a fucking great game because we’re stuck in a shitty little hole in the wall, that’s what it means.”

    “It’s not like I’m asking for the moon, am I?” Cindy said, tapping her high-heeled foot. “He’s got a fucking forty-thou-a-year job. Bobby’s clarinet lessons aren’t going to break him, right? But, no-oo. Clarinet is a fucking girl’s instrument. Bobby has to play sax. Well, I’ll tell you what. Bobby hates sax.”
    A customer came up to the counter, and Cindy gave him a wide, insincere smile. “Twelve-fifty. Thanks, have a nice day.” She turned back to Tom, chewing her gum furiously. “So that asshole won’t pay unless Bobby changes instruments.”
    “What does Bobby say?” Tom said.
    Cindy sighed. “I haven’t told him. How do I tell him his dad thinks he’s a weenie?”
    “What does your mom say?”
    “Please. What she always says. You made your bed, missy, you go ahead and sleep in it.” She pulled a compact out of her purse and examined her eyes. “God, I’m so puffy.” She clicked the compact shut. “Destiny’s molars are coming in, and she’s a basket case, an absolute basket case.”
    “I should get going,” Tom said. “Paulie’s waiting.”
    “How’s she holding up?”
    “She’s wrecked.”
    “Oh, the poor hon. Did you guys try the clove oil?”
    “Yeah. But Mel’s got four teeth coming in and she’s not sleeping –”
    “Bauer,” Stan said as he put on his jacket on the way out. “You’re such a girl.”
    Cindy popped her gum. “Spoken like a man who hasn’t been laid in years.”
    “Shut your pie-hole,” Stan said.
    “Stick it in your ass and rotate, perv.”
    “You’re begging for it. You’re just begging for it.”
    Cindy snorted. “When I want a pencil dick, yeah, I’ll come begging for you, perv.”
    “Are you going to let her do your talking, Bauer?”
    “You betcha,” Tom said.
    “You’re both fired.”
    “What-EV-er, perv,” Cindy said as Stan stomped out the door. “I don’t know how you can stand working with him. He’s such a creep.”
    “He’s okay.”
    “If you think perverts are okay, yeah, I guess he is.”
    “See you Saturday,” Tom said.
    “Kiss your honeys for me,” Cindy said.
    As he walked, Tom swung the plastic grocery bag filled with milk, digestive cookies, and caramels. He wondered if he should get his Americano early or save it. The chill damp in the morning air was already giving way to a humid, glass-shimmering, smog-inducing heat. They’d have to hang out somewhere with air conditioning today, maybe splurge on a movie. Or take a ride to the beach. Sit in the sand and eat ice cream and screw everything else. He had three days off before he had to go back to work.
    He yawned, his eyes watering as he fiddled with his apartment keys. Mel had a nasty habit of rising with the sun no matter how late she’d been up. He always hoped to find them both asleep when he got home, but Mel was usually playing on the living-room floor while Paulie sat blankly in front of the TV , waiting forhim to come home so she could catch a few zees before taking a shower and heading off to her meeting.
    The TV wasn’t on, but he heard a telltale crash. The coats were scattered down the hallway and the coat rack was on the floor. Tom straightened