Hungry for Love (19 page)

Kevin returned his gaze toward the pitch
,
but it was too late
,
and the ball smashed into his crotch
,
causing him to collapse.

“
Ball one!
”
said the umpire.

“
Glad she
’
s not soft on me
,”
intoned the catcher.

From where he lay on the ground groaning and scowling
,
Kevin caught a glimpse of Barb laughing on the pitcher
’
s mound.  That bitch!

Butch seethed as she started the car.  Turning toward Wimp righteously
,
she snapped her crop at him. 
“
You totally missed him.  You were supposed to hit him.
”

Wimp
,
his heart still racing
,
spoke up with uncharacteristic assertiveness. 
“
Who do you think I am
,
Ryan Nolan
?
  I
’
m not um-um-um—Kevin Costner.
”

Butch remained livid. 
“
Yeah
,
well—neither is he. And you know what
?
  Neither are you.
”

Butch pulled the car out and sped away
,
barely listening to Wimp
,
who was suggesting that being nutcracked with a softball was punishment enough.

- FOUR –

“
How
’
s Kevin doing today
?”
asked Bill
,
wincing a little.

“
Still icing the crown jewels. Wouldn
’
t he be okay by
now
?”
asked Laura.

“
It can vary.  Look it
’
s right down here.
”
  They were heading toward Angie
’
s deli
,
and as they walked past Zero Tolerance
,
Bill said
,
“
She
’
s a patient.
”

Spotting a couple smoking
,
Laura removed a flyer from her bag
,
handed it to them and said sincerely but with a touch too much emotion
,
“
You
’
re cremating yourselves alive!
”

Holding Angie
’
s card
,
Bill opened the door to It
’
s Delish
,
and looked around at the small deli
,
which had only a few customers seated here and there.  A counter girl gazed at them with an unremarkable degree of disinterest.  After mentioning his reason for being there
,
she shouted
,
“
Hey
,
Angie.
”

It took only a moment for Angie to emerge from the kitchen in her chef
’
s whites.  Recognizing Bill
,
she registered a look of concern.  Why was he here
?
  Had something happened to Dr. Flicker
?
 
“
Oh
,”
she said
,
“
Hello.
”

Bill smiled at her in a friendly way and said
“
I didn
’
t realize this was a deli.  We could have had lunch here.
”

“
We
’
re planning a party
,”
said Laura.

“
Oh
,
I see
,”
said Angie
,
relieved. 
“
A party.  Somehow I thought you were here because….
Well
,
never mind
,
come—have a seat.
”

Bill and Laura sat down and waited only briefly as Angie disappeared and reappeared
,
bringing a large tray holding many small plates
,
each containing only a couple nibbles on them.  Angie took a seat at the table with them so she could discuss the offerings and make suggestions.  With great effort to maintain a polite demeanor
,
Bill and Laura began tasting the food and their faces revealed only surprise
,
concealed dislike
,
and ultimately puzzlement about what they actually were eating.

Angie remained oblivious and said
,
“
Yes
,
that
’
s right—buffalo pâté.
”

Laura couldn
’
t quite believe what she was asking
,
“
Isn
’
t this caramel inside this meatball
?”

Angie smiled excitedly. 
“
Yes!  Do you like it
?
I haven
’
t tasted most of these items—the diet you know—but I
’
m going for real cutting edge cuisine.  Oblivious to what was transpiring behind her
,
Angie didn
’
t notice as Butch and Wimp at a neighboring table gazed at each other with disgust.  Butch began coughing and almost turned green.  Suspiciously
,
Wimp lifted his plate and sniffed it before almost gagging.  Together they rose
,
as she tossed a bill onto the table and they hightailed it out of the deli.

“
You know
,”
mused Bill softly
,
“
Something a bit more simple might be best.  Chinese chicken salad.
”

“
Poached salmon
,”
added Laura.

Enthused
,
Angie replied
,
“
I just created a saffron-curry sauce with chopped octopus and deep fried cilantro.
”

“
Maybe on the side
,”
said Laura politely.

Chrissy was having a horrifically frustrating conversation with someone she was certain was a brain dead liar. 
“
Yes
,
I
do
want to talk to the manager
,”
she said with extreme irritation
,
“
It
’
s just impossible for me to take you seriously.  There
’
s no way you didn
’
t notice.  You
’
re not disabled
,
are you
?”

Nonplussed
,
the little idiot said
,
“
I
’
ll get Joan.
”

“
Hurry
,
will you
,”
said Chrissy
,
seething.  She untied a jaunty bandana knotted around her neck and mopped her brow with it.  Almost gasping for air
,
she wondered would she faint.  Clutching one of the exercise machines
,
she lowered herself down onto it
,
then in an act of extreme desperation pressed the bandana over her face
,
covering mouth and nose.  She took several breaths
,
growing even more agitated.  It didn
’
t help.  It didn
’
t help.  Air
,
she thought
,
oh clean air.

Joan arrived and leaned over her with an aura of deep concern.  She smiled and patted Chrissy on the shoulder. 
“
Are you all right
?”
she asked.

With what appeared to be SARS level terror
,
Chrissy removed the bandana from her face and attempted to breathe but immediately began choking and gasping.  In between gasps for unpolluted air
,
she managed to squeeze out a few words
,
“
This place reeks!
”