Kicks for a Sinner S3 (32 page)

“A fellow named Chet Lovell who left him a brother and two sisters, all sort of grasping.”

“Believe me, Nell, it could have been worse.”

“Joe is taking care of the family problems. I do think you two need to talk. Say, I have skybox seats with some of the team sponsors at the opening game. Want to attend? You can stay with us over the weekend. Nurse Wickersham is in the Madame Pompadour room, but we still have plenty of space since the kids are in Chapelle. Howdy lives a few floors down, you know.”

“I’ve been there.”

“Who knows, you might run into each other in the elevator, or possibly one of you could bring yourself to knock on a door.”

“I could see that happening if you think that door wouldn’t be slammed in my face.”

“I’m fairly sure he regrets his rash words, Cassie. But men, they don’t know how to say it. So, get yourself down to New Orleans right away, okay?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Nell, for this and for forgiving me about going after Joe. You have a big heart.”

“That’s not all that’s big about me right now. Wait until you see.”

THIRTY-TWO

Cassie waited nervously by the entrance to the skybox. Several middle-aged men and a young guy, some carrying laptops, entered, giving her the eyeball in passing as if she were an item on the buffet spread out in the back of the room. They took the seats up against the glass overlooking the field. A latecomer with their group slowed as he approached her and said, “You want to sit with us, honey?”

“No, thanks. I’m waiting for friends.” She hadn’t dressed this way to pick up businessmen on vacation, but for Howdy. He should be able to see her form-hugging, scooped neck scarlet top from the field—maybe. Her low-slung skinny jeans were black of course, to carry out the Sinners’ color theme, and belted with a wide studded leather band. Black high heels ramped up her height. In the crook of her arm she carried one black and one red plastic thunder stick, the promotional items for the opening game of the season.

A little too eager, she’d arrived early and gained easy access to the luxury level with the ticket Joe left for her at the box office. Finally, the elevator at the end of the corridor opened to reveal a stout woman overflowing a wheelchair and her gray-haired, hatchet-featured nurse. Cassie took a moment to recognize the patient as Nell bloated beyond belief and covered in a tent-like black dress worn in a vain attempt to look smaller. The red scarf tied jauntily around her neck failed to distract from the sheer size of her belly.

Behind them, the ever stunning Joe Dean Billodeaux moved along nervous as a nanny with twins at a water park. He passed the nurse who wore the old traditional white uniform, cap and shoes rather than the more comfortable and friendly scrubs and came alongside of his wife. His lips moved a mile a minute, and Cassie heard his lecture as they came into range.

“You have one pain, your water breaks, you go to the ambulance, quick, quick. No foolin’ around, Nell, no waitin’ till the end of the game, you hear you me. The EMTs know where you are. All you got to do is call this number, and they be ready for you,
cher
heart.”

Though Nell seemed a little pissed over his concern, Cassie smiled. Anxiety brought out the Cajun in Joe big time. She didn’t run to him for a hug as she would have earlier in the year. Instead, she waited and accepted that he would only give her a nod and a tense smile as they entered the skybox together. The nurse parked Nell in front of a guardrail on the top level.

The businessmen left their seats and lined up to meet Joe and get his autograph. He thanked them profusely for sharing their box with his wife and her friends at the last minute. When asked if he felt he could beat the Falcon’s young quarterback, he replied, “For sure, we’re gonna win.”

“Even with Howdy Doody McCoy off his game?” the guy who had hit on Cassie asked.

“He’ll be on his game today. Just you let Cassie, here, up by the window to provide a little inspiration for him.”

With a leer in her direction, the fellow answered, “She could inspire me to do lots of things. If it gets too crowded, she can sit on my lap.”

Joe frowned darkly as if debating whether to beat the guy up or not, but evidently decided he didn’t have the time. He only replied, “She’s Howdy’s girl. Don’t you forget that.”

One of his cronies, a pencil-necked geek type who had been engrossed in something on his laptop, suddenly took an interest in his surroundings. “You mean we’re sharing our box with Howdy’s Hottie? I Googled her. Sure, we’ll make space for her.”

“To you, she is Miss Thomas. Got it?” Joe said, his expression going from cordial to dangerous in a second, giving them a close up view of the Billodeaux game face.

The geek paled. “Sure, right. Miss Thomas. Great to meet you in person, Joe.”

“This is my wife, Nell. I expect y’all to take good care of her.”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with her?” the less than diplomatic laptop guy blurted.

“Since you mention it, she is great with child like the Virgin Mary, only we’re having triplets, you see.”

The lean and lecherous one shouted, “Way to go, Joe!”

“Thanks. Look, I have to get to the locker room. Enjoy the game.”

He kissed Nell and left the box, but they heard him greeting others as he made his way to the elevator. The commotion in the corridor increased and headed their way. In burst two of the team wives, Precious Armitage, the plus-sized and then some wife of nose guard Calvin Armitage, and the slim and slinky Sharlette Dobbs who belonged to the tight end, Asa. They arrived with a festoon of pink and blue balloons centered around three big Mylar storks proclaiming, “It’s a boy, It’s a girl, It’s a boy.”

Precious tied the balloon bouquet to the railing, “Look at you, girl. You’re bigger than Fats Domino at his fattest.”

Lovely mocha-colored Sharlette leaned over to kiss Nell’s cheek. “Don’t mind her. You’ll lose that weight and then some running after three more. I certainly did after giving Ace his son.”

“You look great as always. How is your boy doing?” Nell asked.

“As well as any child whose father named him Prince.”

“Others have done that before Ace, so he is in good company. I do wish I could wear animal prints the way you do, but right now I’d only look like an obese tiger.”

“Yes.” Precious smoothed the jacket of her red satin pants suit over her tremendous thighs. With her dark brown skin, she could make it work. “Big, beautiful women should stick to solid colors. But, I don’t know. I’m still wearing the weight I gained with Calvin’s number four around my hips. Fortunately, Cal appreciates a woman with a little heft to her. He’d crush anyone else when he got on top. Joe probably feels the same way with you being so tiny—usually.”

“Don’t upset her! Honey, we tried to visit when we heard you were in the city, but your watchdog over there wouldn’t let us in. She said you couldn’t have any excitement.”

“And we are exciting, yes, we are!” Precious proclaimed. “But, Joe gave us the heads up. Here we are to keep you company during the game. Wait till you see what we got for you. Sharlette, bring it in.”

Sharlette, nimble even in high heels, returned to the hall and came back wheeling a stroller made for triplets. “Our present to the new babies.”

“That is so great! Thank you.” Nell teared up a little. “Sorry, hormones. Ah, Nurse Wickersham, why don’t you help yourself to some of the food while I visit with my friends? Try the barbecued shrimp.” As soon as her caretaker moved away, she whispered. “She’s a former nun from a nursing order. Nadine found her. At least with that face, she’s no temptation for Joe.”

“Not to mention her age, but what about that one? She still giving you trouble?” Precious asked, not bothering to lower her voice. Cassie, hanging out nearby, blushed the color of Sinners’ red.

“No, we’re good. She’s Howdy’s girl or will be again soon.”

“I sure hope so. Calvin says the kid can’t kick an empty beer can across a street right now he’s so tied in knots over her and his family, but Joe is working on straightening things out.”

“Hel-looo! Is this the right box?” The figure of a woman posed dramatically in the doorway. Her huge breasts led the way as she made her grand entrance. The geek goggled. The lecher gave a low whistle of approval.

“Who the hell is that?” Precious asked.

Cassie spoke up at once trying hard to redeem herself in the eyes of Nell’s friends. “Let me introduce Mariah Coy, famous Las Vegas cabaret singer and Howdy’s mother.” Her voice rose above the pre-game noise like the emcee of a floorshow. There should have been applause.

With a toss of her bright red mane in full bewigged splendor, Mariah moved to crush Cassie against her chest. “You can shill for me anytime, girl. I am so glad you could come today. Joe Dean Billodeaux got me the most fabulous gig right here in the French Quarter and the cutest little bright blue cottage in Musicians’ Village to use during my stay. You know, my boy is just too good for this cruel world and needs you to protect him. I told him he threw away the best thing that ever happened to him when you broke up.”

“She’s available, then? How about you, babe?” the lech said.

“For you, not at any price. Come on, Cassie dear, we need to sit near the window where Howie can see us together cheering for him.” She tucked Cassie’s arm under hers.

“First, you need to meet the other ladies. This is Nell, Joe’s very pregnant wife,” Cassie said, stating the obvious. “And Precious Armitage in the red. Then, Sharlette Dobbs.”

Mariah, her own leopard skin print dress stretched tightly over breasts and hips, nodded. “It takes real women to bring off the tigress look or wear red satin. Pleased to meet you.”

“I like her,” Precious said. Sharlette agreed.

Putting one leg before the other in a model’s strut, Mariah moved down the steps to the front row with Cassie in tow, possibly holding her up on her impossibly high stilettos. “Young man, you look like a gentleman and um—very intelligent. How about giving Cassie your seat?”

“Sure.” The geek snapped his laptop closed and tripped into Mariah’s breasts in his haste to move. “So sorry.”

“Not the first time that’s happened to me. Won’t be the last. Now you, lover boy, make way for Mariah.” She pointed a one-inch acrylic nail painted black with a tiny Sinners’ red devil mascot decal attached to it at the mouthy guy. He made no move to get up and relinquish his prime spot.

Mariah snapped her fingers, no easy feat with nails that long, and a hulking figure no one had noticed after her startling entrance came to her side. “Meet my bodyguard, Billy. Billy, remove this man.”

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself,” Cassie gasped.

“He’s stronger than he looks, honey.”

Billy grabbed the guy under the arms and hauled him into the second row. “Hey, hey,” the man protested. “My company pays for this box. You have no right to…!”

“Are we late? Have they kicked off yet?” Two tall, fashionably bony bleached blondes with tennis court tans walked into the box. Both wore smart black sheaths and red devil earrings purchased from the souvenir stand. They carried their free thunder sticks like odd accessories. Between them, big, balding and paunchy Robson Lovell surveyed the room. “Cassie, great to see you again! Is there room up front?” Before Billy could act, three more businessmen removed themselves to the second row.

“Howdy’s half brother,” Cassie announced to the group in general.

“What is this—a baby shower or a fucking family reunion. We came to watch the game,” Billy’s victim complained.

“Shut up, Les,” one of his more mature companions said. “This is priceless. Wait till I tell my wife and kids I met a famous singer and all the rest of Howdy’s family. My teenage daughter has a crush on the kicker. Loves his freckles.”

“So do I,” Cassie murmured.

“These are Howdy’s half-sisters, Meredith and Mimi. Meredith is from Dad’s second marriage and Mimi from third,” Robson continued as if no interruption had occurred.

“Making her the older one,” Mimi pointed out needlessly.

“Only by six years,” Meredith added. “And I’m divorced. She’s still married.”

“Les Webster at your service. You ladies interested in clubbing after the game?” Mariah’s designed lover boy asked. “Divorced, no kids.” He glanced at Nell. “Thank God, no kids.”

“Take me down there,” Nell growled.

Nurse Wickersham dropped her plate of hors d’oeuvres into a trashcan. “Absolutely not! You must stay in your wheelchair and not get excited.”

“Precious, Sharlette, haul me down these steps.”

Nearly as big as her tackle of a husband Precious did most of the work, depositing Nell where she pointed in the third row right behind Les Webster. Gently, she raised an arm between two of the seats to make sure Nell had enough room to be comfortable. Nell beckoned to Cassie.

“Let me have one of those thunder sticks you’ve been carrying around.”

Cassie handed over the black one. Nell waved it experimentally, slashing the air close to Les Webster’s head. He ducked. “Look, Les,” she said.

“His real name is Leslie,” the geek offered. “I’m Simon.” He looked sidelong at the two blondes as he said so.

Nell chortled. “Leslie, I love it. I won’t be naming any of my children that, but I kind of like Simon. Okay, Leslie. You are an asshole. If you say one more ugly comment about women, babies, or pregnancy, I will bop you with this thunder stick.”

Cassie offered her the other one. “Clap them together over his head. They make lots of noise.”

“Then, we should all have some,” Mariah declared. “Billy, go get a bunch of them. For as much as this box costs they should have put them on the seats for us.”

“It’s not your box!” Les insisted. Nell hit him with the thunder stick, then clapped them together above his quarter-sized bald spot for good measure. He cringed while his companions hooted.

“Yeah,” said Precious as she settled herself beside Nell in another double-wide seat. “This little lady gets real feisty when she’s pregnant. I wouldn’t mess wit’ her.”

“Bitchy is more like it,” Les retorted.

Nell bopped him again. Billy returned with a dozen pairs of thunder sticks and distributed them among the women. He offered Nurse Wickersham a set, and she stared at it as if he’d presented her with a naked penis. “No, thank you.” The remainder, he gave to the men who wanted them with Robson eagerly accepting his.