Page 114 of Clint & Ivy
“I need to stay strong, so I can keep up with the grandchildren.”
Elle sat next to me on the floor and told Darby, “Get one of those motorized carts and chase them on that.”
“Elle Reed, you only pretend to be lazy. I know you work out.”
Nudging me, Elle smiled. “I don’t know why Clint didn’t ditch you at my house rather than here.”
“He didn’t want you to go with them, Elle,” Stevie said before I could speak.
Elle grunted and frowned at me. “Did he say that?”
“No,” I insisted.
“I put shit together using my big brain,” Stevie said and acted ready to grab the weights when Darby’s arms trembled. “Don’t show off. No one is impressed by anything around here. I mean, Rowdy threw a peanut across the room and I caught it with my mouth. Did anyone applaud? Nope.”
“I would have applauded,” I told Stevie. “I’ve never caught anything in my mouth like that before.”
Elle smiled at Stevie. “Do we have any peanuts at the house?”
Minutes later, Darby was working with the leg press equipment. Nearby, Stevie and Elle took turns throwing peanuts at me. I got close several times, yet caught nothing.
“Well, we should leave,” Elle announced. “Clint is on his way back, and he wants Ivy at the condo.”
“You are not leaving me to clean up those peanuts!” Stevie yelled.
Elle shrugged. “Can’t you just vacuum them up?”
“You lazy motherfucker.”
“Hey, now, watch your language around Ivy’s. She’s just a wee girl.”
“Don’t pull that shit with me. I know how old she is.”
“I’ll clean them up,” I said and squatted. Elle yanked me back up. “No, it’s okay,” I insisted, unsure if this argument was real or not.
“No, it’s never okay to bow to Stevie. It only encourages her. Best to push her buttons and make her crazy.”
“I’m trying to listen to music,” Darby griped. “Argue quieter.”
Stevie and Elle smiled at each other, but I was starting to sense they were genuinely angry. Clint told me once how his club was full of aggressive personalities. They might smile and laugh, but they were people prone to throwing punches.
“I’m cleaning up the peanuts,” I announced.
“No.”
“You and Stevie should help me. You helped make the mess.”
“I don’t want to,” Stevie whined and held her wrist against her chest. “I’m injured.”
“Why not use your uninjured arm like when you were throwing?” I asked as I grabbed a trash can.
Stevie stared at me with that faraway gaze she and Cher often wore. Meanwhile, Elle eyeballed me with that “fuck you” look she frequently flashed at Sabrina.
“Are you kidding?” I asked them loudly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to have shit thrown at me if I knew you wouldn’t help me clean it up.”
Acting angrier than I felt, I knew if I didn’t stand up for myself, I’d never get any respect. I was smaller than they were. I didn’t wear the club vest. I was just Clint’s girlfriend.
“Why do you think Clint didn’t take me with them?” Elle asked and started cleaning up.
