Page 7 of Rebound

“Damn, those Chastain men are fine,” Layla says. She looks at me, eyes me up and down, and adds, “Unlike present company.”

I look at her, determined to throw her off by being nice. “Hi, Layla,” I say, giving her my best smile. That smile will get me in any woman’s panties, but not this one. I’m sure she has a chastity belt underneath that dress. Not that I’d go near that. Instead of pubic hair, she probably has cactus needles.

“What up, Whorekowski?” she says once she looks back at me, deliberately mispronouncing my name. Then she flips her hair, looks away, and sticks her cute little nose in the air.

“Dada,” Jasmine says, pointing at me.

“He is,” Layla says, caressing my daughter’s head. “But I won’t hold that against you since you’re so pretty.” Jasmine grins, showing all six of her teeth. “Good thing you don’t look like him.”

“Did you bring your bathing suit, Layla?” Jeannie asks. “Come in the pool with me.”

“I’m melting. I’m melting,” I say, mimicking the Wicked Witch of the West. I put both my hands up and pretend to be shrinking. Jasmine laughs and claps her hands, which makes me do it again. “I’d stay away from water if I were you. And that’s not because I think you’re made of sugar.” I point at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You do the same. Contrary to popular belief, the chlorine won’t cure your crabs.” She doesn’t look at me when she says that. A server comes by with a platter of appetizers and drinks. She grabs a fruity drink and a small plate of meats and cheese.

“Crabs? At least I—” I stop talking when Jasmine reaches for Layla. The only women she feels comfortable with are Jeannie and Vickie. Layla takes her and sits her on her lap. My daughter goes for the cheese, and Layla breaks a little piece and puts it in her mouth.

“At least you what, Whorekowski?” she asks.

“At least the opposite sex finds me attractive,” I say. “Did you see how quickly Chastain ran from you?”

“Attractive? That’s a big word for you, isn’t it? Three whole syllables,” she says with an eye roll.

“How about a word with just one syllable?” I challenge.

“Oh, you wish, but I’m not a fan of community—” She looks around and covers Jasmine’s ears with both hands before she whispers, “Dick.”

“On that note,” Jeannie says. “I’m taking this one in the pool. Layla, go change and meet us. Seth, go—” Her words get cut off when Chastain, Coach, and the rest of the team come charging at our table.

“Wakowski, come on. Let’s go play,” Harris, one of my teammates, says.

I stand, ready to get into something physical. I grab my daughter and toss her in the air. She laughs.

“Game face!” I yell. We both grimace and bare our teeth like two wild bears. “Grrrr,” we say in unison. “Grrr,” we say louder. From the corner of my eye, I see Layla put a hand to her chest and take a step back in shock. “Game kisses.” I kiss both her fat cheeks before I hand her back to Jeannie.

“Keep her away from the witch,” I say to Jeannie before I follow the rest of the team inside the house.

Chapter 5

Seth

About an hour later, we leave the indoor basketball court to go outside. Everyone is sweaty after our game, and I’m ready for a cold drink. The backyard is still filled with people, but now the kids are running around the yard. I spot my daughter and she’s in Layla’s arms in the pool. She’s still wearing the sunglasses, but now Layla has a big straw hat on her head.

She looks over, and our eyes lock for a minute. At least until I lift my hand and give her the middle finger. She does the same to me and looks away. To piss her off, I peel off my T-shirt and get in the pool. I take Jasmine from her and hold her in my arms.

She rubs her eyes and puts her head on my chest.

“As I was saying,” she says, turning back to Jeannie, ignoring me completely, “it was a complete disaster. I mean the man was fine with a capital F. He checked all my boxes in the looks department. Tall? Check. Bald? Yes, please. Dark? The perfect shade. The problem happened thirty seconds in when he opened his mouth. He said he was looking for a woman who would listen to her man. What the fuck do I look like? A dog who needs to obey? And that wasn’t the worst thing he said,” she says, completely outraged.

“What can be worse than that?” Jeannie asks. I pretend to be busy playing with Jasmine but I’m eager to hear what she says next.

“He says it’s a requirement that his woman cook him three meals per day. Then he asked me to list all the dishes I can cook.”

“He saidwhat?” Jeannie asks. “No way.”

“I told him the thing I make best is reservations.” She cackles at her cleverness, and so does Jeannie. I reluctantly admit to myself that’s a good answer.

“I mean, I like cooking for my husband,” Jeannie says. “He loves it, but he appreciates it whenever I do it.”

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