Page 15 of Holiday Crush
“It’s legal-ish.”
He chuckled. “What does that mean?”
“It’s common enough for folks to add a splash of something extra to their drink of choice. However, we don’tservebooze, because we don’t have a license for it.”
Court poured lemonade into a red Solo cup, added gin, and handed it over to me. “So if I was a cop, I could arrest you for bringing an open container onto public property and double arrest you for drinking it.”
I snorted. “Yeah, sure, but this isn’t public property because…Town Hall belongs to the church.”
“Ahh, Elmwood.”
“Trust me, I’m not getting drunk on Bingo Night and neither is anyone else here. But a little nip won’t hurt, and big perk—most of us can walk home or get a ride with a friend.” I took a sip of lemonade and immediately choked. “Whoa. That was a strong pour.”
He helped himself to the lemonade and gin, swirling the contents thoughtfully before tipping his cup back. “Not bad. I could see how this makes Bingo fun.”
“Bingoisfun,” I corrected, quelling my instinct to remind him that we’d shared a few laughs here twentysomething years ago. That was too…pathetic. I gave my attention to mixing the returned cards as I changed the topic. “I’m surprised to see you here. Did you get lost?”
“No, I came by to meet some of the kids I’ll be coaching.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That group of little cuties? Oh my God, that’s adorable!”
“Yeah, right.” Court rolled his eyes and gestured to the cards I was in the midst of shuffling. “What are you doing with those?”
“I have to set a stack on each table so they’re ready to go when the doors open for the next group.” I grimaced at the state of the refreshment bar. “I need to set out a new box of cookies too and straighten the napkins and—would you mind doing that for me? Pretty please?I mean…if you have a minute.”
His cartoon-style jaw drop was rather amusing. “Did Vinnie set this up with you?”
“Vinnie? Set up…what? Forget it. I’ve got this.” I gathered the cards and skirted the table so fast, my scarf breezed behind me and clung to Court’s arm as I passed him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to chat, but it was good to see you again. Later!”
“Wait. Hang on. I’ll do the cards,” he grunted, wiggling his fingers meaningfully. “You take care of the food.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“Gah, you’re the best! Twenty cards per group, please, and if you could just tidy that prize table a bit, that would be amazing.”
“You’re pushing your luck.”
“I know, but I have gin, remember?” I handed over the cards and sailed away before Court could change his mind.
Now that he was here, I didn’t want him to go…for purely selfish reasons. And no, not because of an obsolete crush.
See, I wasn’t the only volunteer who’d showed up, but we were minus Stacy’s mom, Court’s mom, and Bryson. That left me with Kathy Anderson and Faith Thompson, who were sweet but notoriously chatty. No offense to them, but they were a tad useless and I understood. This was their social scene.
Their friends and peers made up the bulk of the Friday evening funsters. This was where they caught up with people they might not have bumped into at church on Sunday or in town midweek. They compared notes about their grown children, shared photos of grandkids and pets, and kibitzed about life in general over contraband wine, Henderson’s famous maple cookies, and Rise and Grind’s complimentary coffee.
There were a few families and a handful of octogenarians who couldn’t make the afternoon game. And then there was me, the lone single gay man filling in time on a Friday night.
It was easier with Bryson here. He was gay too and funny and charming and…he was nice company. It was so odd for him to miss two weeks in a row. Maybe he was busy at work or traveling. Or…maybe he was dating someone new and—
“Done. Now what?”
I unwrapped the napkins as I spun to face Court. “Uh, well, that’s a trick question and it depends on how long you can stay.”
He set his hands on his hips and cast his gaze around the hall and at the reception desk, where the next group of Bingo-loving funsters was lined up and ready to roll.
“I don’t have anything better to do, so what the fuck?”