Layne smiled and said, “Good news, sweetcheeks.”
She placed her pop in her holder and went back to the bag. “No, Layne, not good news. Great news! I was freaking out!” she declared and Layne’s smile died. “My attorneys told me they called his attorneys and they phoned back in, like, thirty minutes. He offered ten K at first but my attorneys pushed it and got fifty!” He glanced at her to see she had her own sandwich in her hand and she sat back, wiping the fingers of her other hand on her brow and emitting an adorable yet annoying due to its cause, “Shoo!”
That fucking jackass. Ten K? He should give her fifty times that, he had it and she’d lived with his bullshit for ten years so she’d earned it. Not to mention, she’d lived a week with the worry she couldn’t make her rent.
Right before she took a huge bite of her sandwich, she said, “I wonder what happened.”
Layne knew what happened. Devin Glover and Natalie Ulrich happened.
“Maybe he isn’t so stupid,” Layne replied.
“Or maybe he’s moving on,” Rocky suggested through a mouth full of sandwich he knew she swallowed before she went on. “That would work for me, maybe he’ll settle and this will be done and I can get on with my life.”
Layne glanced at her before his eyes went back to the road, knowing, one way or the other, Dr. Jarrod Astley would settle so Rocky could get on with her life.
“Beginning of the end, baby,” he muttered.
“I hope so,” she replied.
Layne ate and drove and when he heard Rocky’s hand crinkling the chip bag, he spoke.
“Need you to think about doin’ somethin’ for me.”
“What?” she asked and he heard crunching chips.
“You know Sean O’Leary?”
“Of course,” she replied, reaching for her orange soda.
“His sister’s in a bad way.”
She took a slug, put the pop back and Layne heard the foil move on her sandwich as he peeled back more on his.
“I know,” she said softly. “Meghan’s had it tough. She was having symptoms for ages and no one knew what was going on. It took five years to diagnose her, can you believe that?”
Jesus, five years?
“There’s a treatment that they think can help,” Layne told her. “Colt stopped by, told me about it.” Layne took another bite of sandwich and said while chewing. “It’s expensive.”
“Most of them are,” Rocky murmured and he heard her moving foil.
Layne put his sandwich in his hand at the steering wheel and dug into the bag of chips. “She can’t afford it and I thought you could do your magic.”
He knew she’d turned to face him when she asked, “My magic?”
He shoved the chips in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, glanced at her and saw she was looking at him. “Yeah, baby, your charity magic. Raise some money for her. Help her out.”
He glanced back out the windshield and reached for his pop as she whispered, “Shit.”
Layne took a slug and put the soda back as he said, “Roc, your plate is full, you don’t have to –”
“It’s not that, it’s just that Halloween is just around the corner. A charity haunted house would be the bomb. We did that three years ago, ran it for the whole month of October and we raised a fortune. But now, I don’t have enough time to pull it off and, to rake in the dough, we need it to run awhile.” She paused for several long beats before she muttered, “I’ll have to think about this.”
Layne smiled before he ate the last bite of sandwich and asked, “So you’ll do it?”
He was balling the foil and grease paper in his fist when he saw her hand reach out in front of him to take it and he gave it to her as she said, “Yes, Layne, I’ll do it. Sean’s a neat guy and Meghan’s lovely. I’ll be happy to help.”
He reached out, curled his fingers around her upper thigh and squeezed. It was high enough that it was far more intimate than a squeeze on the knee, low enough not to be too forward.
“Thanks, baby,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer. Instead, surprising him, her fingers curled around his on her thigh, not to pry them away, but to give them a squeeze.
Then she let his hand go and she asked, “Do you want a cookie?”
“Yeah,” he answered and she immediately leaned forward and started digging in the bag again.
By the time they made it to the field at the high school two towns over where the game was, he had his three cookies, she’d had her three cookies and she’d cleared everything but the pops away. He parked and met her at the rear of the SUV, getting close and sliding his arm around her shoulders. She reciprocated, her arm gliding along his waist under his jacket, her hand curling in at the side. There were others heading toward the gate and Layne knew the ones from the ‘burg because they were watching Layne and Rocky walk to the field like they were two movie stars in the middle of filming a romantic comedy.
He paid and they made their way to the away team’s bleachers, Layne spying Colt and Cal standing at their normal spot at the fence. Keira was standing with them and with her was a red-haired, freckle-faced girl who could do Irish Spring commercials.
“Hey Ms. Merrick!” Keira shouted as they approached.
“Hey Keira, Heather,” Rocky greeted back, showing no reaction to being referred to by her maiden name then she smiled at Colt and Cal. “Hi guys.”
“Rocky,” Colt smiled at her and Cal smiled as well but didn’t verbalize his greeting, he just lifted his chin.
Rocky looked up into the stands and scanned. Layne’s eyes followed hers and he felt her move, looked down at her to see her waving at someone and he looked back into the bleachers to see Dave sitting with Spike and Ernie. He gave them a chin lift, got them in return and felt Rocky turn into him. He dipped his chin to look at her as she tipped her head back.
“You want coffee?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
“I’m going to go say hi to Dad.”