As I approached, the carnival committee continued their chattering, faces serious. Whatever had happened, it had gotten them worked up. I tried following the conversation, but they continued talking over one another. Instead of interrupting, I plopped down on the leather couch next to Laurel.
While staring at the ceiling, daydreaming about Tyler’s expression, possibly with my cock in hand. A-ha! I had a stroke of genius. I needed them to slow down so I could ask for their help.
Sheryl shook her head. “That won’t work.”
Walter jabbed Harvey. “Maybe we can get the VFW involved?”
Laurel dismissed the idea. “I love you guys, but there’s a chance somebody would break a hip.”
“Hey,” Walter and Harvey said in unison. Then Walter nodded. “She’s right.”
I finally dared to enter the conversation. “What’s going on?”
“Tragedy,” Gladys shouted. She threw herself back in her antique chair, arms crossed as she grimaced. “The worst thing that could happendid.”
With this group, that could be anything. “Did we order the wrong color tablecloths?”
“So much worse,” Sheryl said.
“Our baseball team doesn’t suck,” Laurel said.
I had attended a home game with Tyler. He wanted to cheer the team, and I wanted slushies and hotdogs. Laurel’s statement was about as polite as I could muster. They weren’t horrible, but they wouldn’t be going to the?—
“They made playoffs?”
Oh, no. No. No. No.
“They’re going to be traveling to Boston for playoffs,” Laurel said. “That means we just lost our volunteers.”
Only Gladys matched my level of panic. “They can’t just abandon us.”
I agreed. She leaned back, crossing her legs, a sour expression on her face. Everybody had grown quiet as reality sank in. Thanks to our better-than-horrible baseball team, we lacked the volunteers to put the carnival together.
“Don’t they have a legal obligation? Can we sue them?” No, Sheryl. However, I paused to consider it.
“Let them go,” Harvey said. “They earned it.”
“We’re the carnival committee,” Walter jumped in. “We can make anything happen.”
“What about the soccer team?” I asked. “Or basketball?”
They all chuckled.
“Wrestling?”
The laughter grew.
Even Laurel patted me on the leg. We had just gonefrom panic to cackling laughter. Shaking my head, I waved them off. “Explain it to me.”
Harvey jumped to his feet. “Jon Olsen, good sir.”
“Such a well-meaning chap,” Walter said. As they completed each other’s sentences, my drawing made more sense. I’m pretty convinced they were the definition of hetero-life-mates.
“We have enough kids in the high school for one sport.” I raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding. “Our summer baseball teamisour basketball team. They’re also our soccer team.”
“Except for Jill,” Walter added.
“Oh yeah, Jill only plays basketball. Did you see she’s been working on her three-pointers? She’s going to?—”
