She squinted and studied him before saying, “Of course not. Good luck.”
Picking up a ball, he geared up for his throw.
“I want you to feel confident,” Retta shouted from behind. “You can do this.”
He looked over his shoulder at her, seeing right through the mind game she was playing.
“Come on, roll the ball,” she said, giving him two thumbs up.
His preoccupation with what Retta might do resulted in abysmal bowls. Meeting her where she stood, he said, “So, you wanna play dirty, huh?”
She lightly pressed her finger into his chest. “You started it.”
Instinctually he grabbed her finger.
Her eyes widened, and she looked at where he held her and back to his face. He’d never dated anyone this tall, but he decided he liked that she could easily meet his eye.
“It’s on, Majors,” he said, before releasing her.
“I’m ready.”
But before they could find out how this newly inspired vigor would play out, jarring beeps rang through the bowling alley.
He and Retta jumped back and looked around them. The other patrons similarly searched for answers, but all Duncan could offer was a shrug.
A short man in his sixties emerged from an office behind the front desk. Duncan, Retta, and the group beside them watched as the man took steps in tempo with the lethargic beeping sounds toward the other corner of the large room.
A minute later he arrived at his destination, and the noise stopped soon after. However, they didn’t have a chance to relax or get back to bowling before the older man bellowed from his spot inside the room, “Meredith, it’s fucked!”
In unison, everyone whipped their heads to the only other person working.
The older woman at the front desk didn’t look up from her computer when she shouted, “You sure?”
Everyone turned to look at the door the man had disappeared behind.
“Yeah, I’m sure!”
Eyes back on Meredith.
The woman visibly sighed before standing up, retrieving a megaphone on the shelf behind her and positioning it over her mouth. “Folks, if I could get everyone’s attention.” She scanned the room for several seconds.
God knows why. The nine of them were silent and waiting.
“We’re having some technical difficulties, so we’re shutting down the lanes for the rest of the evening.”
“Wait, are you joking?” someone from the group next to them asked.
Meredith, with a bored expression, looked over to the man who’d spoken. “In an orderly fashion, you can approach the desk to collect your shoes and a refund, if you choose.”
The older woman then returned to her seat and continued to do what she was doing behind the computer. Meanwhile, the lights illuminating the lanes dimmed and the screens where their scores were tracked shut down.
Everyone retrieved their belongings and left the building mumbling their disappointment.
Retta was in her purse, fishing for her keys, when she said, “I promise I checked the reviews for this place. They were decent.”
“Well, on the bright side, you don’t have to go home a loser,” he said.
She laughed. “A little too confident for someone who spent half the time with balls in the gutter.”
