Ladies' Night Andrews, Kay (great novels .txt) 📖

The Bad News Bears and the beginning of Field of Dreams. Somebody was banging on the trailer’s aluminum storm door. Wyatt jumped up, startled by the noise, but Bo, always a heavy sleeper, didn’t move. Sweetie, on the other hand, went on instant alert, running toward the door and barking.

“Wyatt? It’s me.”

He cursed softly. His midnight caller was Callie. “Shush, Sweetie,” Wyatt grumbled. He flipped on the porch light and opened the door.

*   *   *

She was barefoot and rain-soaked, dressed in a low-cut tank top and shorts so tight he could clearly see the outline of her panties. She’d been crying again. And this time, she’d brought baggage. Literally. A large wheeled suitcase rested on the porch, and next to it sat a plastic laundry basket heaped with her belongings.

“Can I come in?” She didn’t wait for an answer, picking up the basket of clothes and stepping inside, out of the rain. He hesitated, then grabbed the suitcase, too.

“What’s all this?” he asked, gesturing at the luggage.

“My stuff. Can you at least get me a towel so I can dry off before you start yelling at me?”

As she walked past him toward the bathroom, Wyatt detected the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. She took her time in the bathroom. He heard water running, and then the sound of a hair-dryer. He waited outside the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest, gathering resolve.

Finally, she emerged, her face pink from heat, hair fluffed, dressed only in his worn terrycloth bathrobe. “You don’t mind, right?” Callie asked. “Just until my stuff dries out, okay?”

“You can have the bathrobe,” he said, keeping his voice low, “but then you have to leave.”

“And go where?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair. “My baby sister kicked me out. You believe that? It’s midnight and we’re in the middle of a monsoon, and she kicks me out. So for tonight, anyway, you’re stuck with me. And I hate to ask, but do you have anything to eat? I didn’t get dinner.”

He took her by the arm and steered her toward the kitchen. “I’ll fix you a sandwich. Keep your voice down,” he warned. “Bo’s asleep on the living room floor. I don’t want him waking up and asking why you’re here.”

She yanked her arm from his grip and followed him into the kitchen. “We’re still married, technically. So why shouldn’t I be here?” She looked around the room and frowned. “Unless your new girlfriend is having a sleepover?”

Wyatt took a package of lunch meat from the fridge, along with a jar of mustard. He slapped the meat between two slices of bread, which he slathered with the yellow mustard, then slid the sandwich in front of her.

He decided not to allow Callie to bait him. “What are you doing here, Callie? What did you do to make Kendra kick you out?”

“Nothing!” she said, biting into the sandwich. “Kendra’s just a bitch, okay? She resents me. Always has. She was always on your side after we split. And she hated Luke, of course.”

She’d knotted the bathrobe loosely around her waist, and it gapped widely at the neck, giving him a too-generous view of her cleavage and a provacative expanse of her bare legs.

The truth was beginning to dawn on him. “Luke came over there tonight, didn’t he? That’s why Kendra kicked you out. Right?”

“I didn’t invite him,” she said indignantly. “He just showed up. He promised to get my car back for me. So I let him in, but then he started with the same old bullshit, and I called him on it. We were not fighting. It was a discussion. But all of a sudden, Kendra goes bat-shit crazy and starts threatening to call the cops on both of us.”

“The two of you’d been drinking, right? And don’t try to deny it, because you smell like a brewery,” Wyatt said.

“What are you, my parole officer? Yes, we had a few beers,” Callie said. “But I am not drunk. And anyway, what kind of sister throws somebody out in the middle of a tornado? Kendra wouldn’t even listen to me. She literally grabbed my suitcase and pitched it out her window. And she lives on the second floor. I was barely able to grab the basket with the rest of my stuff before she locked me out in the rain.”

Callie took another bite of her sandwich, and then another, chewing calmly. “God, I’m hungry. I bet I could eat another sandwich.” She looked down at Sweetie, who was crouched on the floor, her liquid brown eyes focused on her.

“Is this the girlfriend’s dog?” She tore off a bit of bread and tossed it to the little dog, who caught it in midair. “She’s kind of cute, isn’t she? What’s her name?”

“We’re not discussing the dog. And I’m not fixing you another sandwich,” Wyatt said. “You can’t stay here tonight, Callie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re kicking me out? Where do you expect me to go at this hour? And don’t suggest a motel. You might as well know. I’m flat broke.”

“Dammit, Callie!” Wyatt whispered hoarsely. “I’m not going to let you manipulate me like this. I just sent your child-support check.”

“And Bo needed new sneakers. And he’s outgrown all his clothes,” Callie said. “What is the big deal? It’s just one night, okay? I’ll sleep on the sofa. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“I will know. More importantly, Bo will know. You’ve already managed to get him freaked out about where he’s going to live now that you and Luke are broken up. I don’t want him any more confused than he already is.”

But it was too late. They heard light footsteps in the hallway, then the sound of the bathroom door being opened, and then a toilet flushing. A moment later, the sleepy-eyed child rounded the hallway into the kitchen.

“Mom?” he said softly.

She held out her arms and the boy dutifully allowed himself to be folded into an embrace. “Hey, Bo-man,” Callie said, hugging him tight. “Are