“Did you just say, ‘bat shake’?” Warren asks, running his hand over his short beard.
“Yeah, I did, but that’s not the point,” Tucker says, leaning back against the table.
“What’s a bat shake?” Jackson asks, looking between Tucker and his dad.
“Who knows, bud?” Warren says, ruffling the kid’s hair. Now it looks even messier than it did when they got here this morning.
Getting the first shift for the stand is a blessing and a curse. You have to be here at the ass crack of dawn, but you’re done in time to go enjoy the event from outside the confines of the concession stand.
We’re down to the last ten minutes before the next group of people is set to come relieve us of our duties.
“Yes, I still think it’s odd,” Warren says. He points to Jackson. “He loves it though, so who am I to judge?”
A few more customers come by. Most are buying hot drinks because even though the sun is shining today, it’s still cold.
“Hey, Sunshine,” I hear Tucker say. Before I even turn around, I know who’s going to be standing there.
Turning on my heels, I’m not disappointed. Sienna is standing there in all her rosy-cheeked glory.She’s beautiful.
She has on an emerald green hat with a pom-pom on top. The color makes her eyes pop. She’s all bundled up, but her coat is left unzipped.
Considering the way her bump is popping out more and more as the weeks pass, I’m guessing it won’t zip up anymore.
That’s a problem I need to remedy very soon.
I step up beside Tucker, and her gaze swivels over to me. “Hey,” we both say, almost in unison.
“Sienna,” Jackson says, pushing his way between Tucker and me. He crawls under the table until he’s right next to her.
She crouches down. “Hey. I like your hat,” she tells him, pointing to his bright red beanie.
“Yours is better,” he says, pointing to the pom-pom. “Balls are cool.”
“Ballsarecool,” Tucker says, nodding his head emphatically. Warren slaps him on the shoulder.
“I’ll let you borrow it sometime,” she tells Jackson, and he beams at her. She stands back up, looking right at Tucker. “I remember you in particular being a fan of attention on balls.” She says the last words a little quieter.
Is she flirting with him?
An evil smirk crosses Tucker’s face as he leans over the table. “How would I not be a fan when you’re the one giving the attention?”
Her body is leaning in toward him too, even if she isn’t consciously aware.
She freezes, obviously realizing what they’re talking about and how far past “friends” it goes. She shakes her head, looking like she’s going to bolt.
“Are you staying to watch everything?” I ask her.
She hesitates for a moment. “Yeah, for a while.”
Jackson grabs her hand. “Can you come with us?”
She looks down at him. Her shoulders lose their rigid stance from before when she was prepared to make an escape to a cabin in the woods, where she wouldn’t have to see any of us ever again.
She looks back up at us.
“We’re leaving in a few minutes,” I tell her. “The next crew is already here.”
With her eyes trained on us, she looks like she’s going to say no. But then we’re saved again by the kid.
