Let It Go (4 page)

“Give me that.” Vangie grabs the bucket of near empty popcorn. “And you two stop it,” she scolds. Looking apologetically at Savannah, who holds Zoey on her lap, she laments, “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Savannah chuckles. “I’m sure it couldn’t be the bucket of popcorn, or the giant soda, certainly not the atmosphere.” She gestures at the rough and raucous crowd, some cheering and applauding, while others hiss and boo.

“I know,” Vangie sympathizes. “I couldn’t find a sitter, and this is Jac’s last game of the season. I thought they might enjoy it.”

“Oh, I think they’re enjoying it all right.” Savannah grins, intercepting Zoey’s arm as she winds up, her hand full of popcorn, aching to release it into the crowd below, a ritual she has witnessed numerous other spectators perform.

Her fun interrupted, Zoey decides to bury her cute little round face into the palm of her hand, snarling and munching at the popcorn, the puffy white snack hanging from the corners of her mouth. This action results in approval from her big sister, Luka, who doubles over with laughter.

“Heathens,” Vangie pipes, throwing her hands up in the air. “I raised a litter of heathens.”

Savannah giggles at the entire scene, knowing it must eat away at her otherwise prim and proper sister, Vangie, that she managed to rear two tomboy-esque girls, similar to her chief rival and eldest sibling, Jac. “Their daddy’s a rough and tumble college football coach, what do you expect?” Savannah justifies.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Vangie dismisses. “What about their Uncle Jack Brigant? Care to give me a status update?” Vangie looks at her with an inspecting eye.

“As of yesterday, we have no status,” Savannah briefs.

“You signed the papers?” Vangie’s voice matches her facial expression, disappointed. “Payton and him got along so well,” she thinks of her husband, “and the kids love him. He’s the only uncle they’ve ever known. Savannah, I was hoping you two could work it out.”

“I hoped for that, too.”

“What happened?”

“We’re too far gone, Vangie. It won’t ever be the same.”

“But, you two were so in love when you first met. Do you still love him?” Vangie asks, hopeful.

“I probably always will love him. Hold some place for him in my heart.” Savannah shrugs. “But, honestly, we haven’t been in love with each other for quite some time.”

“How do you know?” Vangie protests.

“The way we talk to each other. The things we say. Sometimes we’re not very nice at all.” Savannah’s expression grows guilt-ridden. “I guess, after a while all the love gets bogged down and overridden with hurt and resentment.”

“Get her, Aunt
Jac-You-Up!”
They’re interrupted by Luka’s cheer as she watches her Aunt Jac take out an opponent skater.

Much like clockwork comes the anticipated follow-up from Zoey, “Get her, Aunt
Jac-Up!”

Vangie and Savannah clap and whistle for Jac, while another harmless scuffle ensues between Luka and Zoey.

“Break it up, you two.” Vangie looks at the scoreboard, eyeing the time left, calculating how many more altercations she can figure on.

Savannah takes in her nieces, the eldest Luka with her platinum blonde hair, blue eyes and light complexion, favoring Aunt Jacqueline, and Zoey with her hair and eyes both dark brown, her skin olive in its tone, a spitting image of her mama, Evangeline. “It’s like déjà vu,” Savannah speaks her thought aloud. “Just like watching you and Jac all over again.” She chuckles.

“Why is that?” Vangie asks. “That sisters are so competitive?”

“Not all sisters are,” Savannah speaks for herself, “being the
afterthought
and all.” She references her standing among her siblings, being five and six years younger than Vangie and Jac. “Mama and Daddy just had you two too close together. That’s why you’re so competitive. It’s inherent, vying for their attention, pushing each other at every mark.”

“What it is…or was…exhausting,” Vangie retorts. “And now I’m going through it all over again with these two.” She breaks up another
I’m not touching you
debacle Zoey and Luka have engaged in.

“How about I take Zoey off your hands for the evening?” Savannah offers.

“Yeah! I get to go home with Aunt Vannah,” Zoey cheers, her four-year-old vocabulary forgoing the first syllable in Savannah’s name. Immediately turning to Luka, she sings in a taunting tone, “Ha ha ha, I get to go with Aunt Vannah.”

“That’s not fair, Mama. I want to go, too,” Luka says.

Savannah wraps her arms around them, planting kisses on their round cheeks. “I’ll take both of you little cherubs, on one condition. No more bickering.” She tickles them, enjoying their high-pitched shrills.

“Good luck with that!” Vangie says, motioning toward the locker room as the derby draws to a close. “Let’s go see Jac.”

The locker room is loud and boisterous as Jac’s team,
The Pulverizing Peaches,
annihilated their opponents,
The Blitzing Belles.

“What would your name be, if you were a derby girl?” Savannah asks Luka, holding on to her hand as they enter the locker room.

“Well, I’m pretty fast, so I think I’d make a good jammer,” Luka refers to the position that requires speed, where the skater gains points for her team by lapping the other team’s skaters.
“Lightning Rod Luka!”
she squeals, proud of her choice.

“That’s really good!” Savannah high-fives her.

Zoey raises her petite arm in the air, declaring her derby girl name. “I would be
Hello Titty Zoey!”
Her speech not quite up to speed, her k’s still exhibiting the t sound, causes Savannah and Vangie to giggle.

“Oh yeah,” Luka huffs, rolling her blue eyes, “because nothing’s more frightening than a kitty.”

“Aunt
Jac-Up!”
Zoey yells, spotting her in the locker room and running to meet her. Luka peels off behind her, both of them hugging Aunt Jac and digging through her duffel bag, trying on her derby gear.

“Good job, Sis,” Savannah and Vangie congratulate Jac simultaneously, sitting down on each side of her.

“Thanks for coming,” Jac says, unlacing her skates. “Mama come with you?”

Vangie and Savannah catch each other’s gaze, neither wanting to disappoint their sister. “You know your mother,” Savannah pats Jac’s leg, “she’s a little too refined for roller derby.”

“I know,” Jac dismisses. “Be a shame if she actually came and enjoyed it,” she adds sarcastically.

“Ooh,” Zoey purrs, inspecting Jac’s shin. “Mama, Aunt Jac has a boo-boo. I tiss it for you. Make it all better.” She plants a peck on the purple-colored skin.

“Thanks Pumpkin,” Jac says. “It feels brand new.” Jac laces her gold medallion, awarded for winning the derby, around Zoey’s neck.

“Cool,” Zoey whispers, her fingers busily fondling the shiny pendant.

“Mama.” Luka tugs on Vangie’s pant leg. “Can I go over there and get
Wrecking Ball Rita’s
autograph?”

“She’s fine,” Jac assures. “The ladies will keep an eye on her.”

“I want to go, too,” Zoey protests, her eyebrows scowling.

“Take your sister,” Vangie instructs Luka.

Luka’s shoulders slouch, resistant in taking Zoey’s hand. “Fine,” she sputters, carting Zoey along behind her.

“I know how you feel, Luka,” Jac calls behind her while she playfully shoves at Vangie. “I had to drag your little behind everywhere.”

“And you’re a better woman for it,” Vangie affirms with a smile.

“You doing okay?” Jac looks to Savannah. “How’d he take the news?” she refers to Jack and the divorce.

“You already told
her?”
Vangie interrupts. “Why am
I
always the last to know?”

“Easy,
Trigger,
it’s not a competition,” Jac quiets Vangie, waiting for Savannah to answer.

“I’m good. At least we’re not stuck in limbo anymore,” Savannah begins. “He’ll be fine, too. Just might take some time. Says he wants to be friends.”

“That’s not a good idea, Savannah. Trust me, I’ve been there, done that. It never works. You can’t be friends with an ex,” Jac warns.

“Yes they can,” Vangie argues. “Just because Savannah divorced him doesn’t mean we did. I like Uncle Jack. My kids like Uncle Jack.”

“And I want you all to continue to be kind to him. Treat him like you always have,” Savannah says.

“I’m telling ya, it’s not that easy,” Jac intercedes. “If the man still wants you, he can’t just be your friend. He might say that, if he thinks that’s the only way he can be in your life. Just wait until you start seeing other people, then his true colors will be in full bloom. And they won’t be friendly.”

“That’s just it, though. He
thinks
he wants me, but he really doesn’t,” Savannah deduces.

“You got all of that because he’s calling and texting other women?” Jac asks, trying to make sense of Savannah’s reasoning. Savannah nods as if to say,
Well duh.
“Those other women, they’re filler for the interim, until he can win you back.”

“Other women? What?” Vangie asks, confused.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Savannah pipes. “He can’t have filler, and then have me. That’s like going out to dinner and ordering an appetizer. By the time you get through with the appetizer, you don’t have any room left for your meal. If the man wants calamari instead of steak, then let him have it!”

“Other women?” Vangie asks again.

Jac chuckles at Savannah’s mealtime metaphor. “I don’t blame you, Savannah. I would feel the same way. I’m just telling you where his mind is. You’ve moved on. You’re done, finito, divorced. He’s not. If he can come at you from the friendship angle, he’s going to.”

Vangie reaches across Jac, her hand lacing around Savannah’s chin, her fingers squeezing her cheeks. “Savannah…focus. What other women? And why am I just now finding out?” She shakes Savannah’s face, her grasp matching her emotion, frazzled.

“If you’d let go of my face,” Savannah says calmly, her speech slurred from the pressure Vangie exerts to her cheeks, “maybe I could explain.” Vangie releases her hold, her eyes still pressed and expectant, severely unhappy that she has been left out of the fold once again. “I didn’t want to tell you because I know how you feel about Jack. And I don’t want to change your opinion of him.”

“You’re my sister, Savannah,” Vangie sputters, “my blood.” She thumps her hand off of her chest, her teeth gnarling against each other, as
gnarly
as the petite, well-spoken Evangeline can get. “If that little punk is cheating on you, don’t you think I have the right to know? The right to be mad as hell at him!”

“Vangie,” Savannah whispers, pulling their escalated chatter back down to an audible hum. “He’s not cheating on me. He can’t cheat on me when we’re divorced. And we’ve been separated for a year and a half. It’s not like we’re in a loving, committed, monogamous relationship…not anymore.”

“He’s just been calling and texting girls behind her back for the past several months, that’s all,” Jac scoffs sarcastically.

“I thought you two agreed not to see other people during the separation,” Vangie plays catch-up.

“We did,” Savannah says.

“You did,” Jac corrects. “Apparently, he’s of the same mindset as most other red-comb wearing domestic fowl. They get to strut their little banty rooster selves all about town, but we’re supposed to be good little hens and stay cooped up.”

Jac’s banty rooster bantering, accompanied by the animated flapping of her arms, provides much needed comic relief for Vangie and Savannah, who break out with laughter.

Jac refuses to join them, clearly attempting to establish a point. “I’m serious. They all have double standards.”

Catching her breath, Savannah grows serious. “It’s not like I’m some kind of saint, either. There’s this guy at my gym. I swear it’s like an episode of
Clash of the Dinosaurs: Mating Season
on the
Discovery Channel
every time I’m near him.”

“Clash of the Dinosaurs?”
Vangie mutters, drawing out the title. “That doesn’t sound very sexy. Couldn’t you pick
Jungle Love
or something like that?”

“That’s not sexy either,” Jac interjects. “Female monkeys are screamers. I read that somewhere. They scream bloody murder until the male ejaculates. How
sexy
is that?” She rolls her eyes.

“How do you come up with this stuff?” Savannah giggles, enjoying her sisters’ company, a welcome distraction.

“Back to this guy at the gym,” Jac redirects. “Is he fine?” She smiles.

“Ah Jac,” Savannah exhales dreamily. “He’s big. And thick. And brawny,” she drawls out every adjective, her hands miming his size. “Chest and shoulders out to here. Quads like a tree trunk.” She growls, a heightened purr, while rounding her palms as if she’s squeezing melons at the grocery. “The guy has an ass you could break glass off of.”

“Does he carry a stick and say ‘ooga booga?’” Vangie chuckles at the caveman-esque image Savannah provides.

“I mean it’s just so round and juicy,” Savannah continues, her mind still lingering on his backside.

“Does this man have a face? A name?” Jac asks, her wide smile beaming at her youngest sister.

“Brody,” Savannah informs, still getting used to the newly familiar title. “Surprisingly, he’s very well-spoken,” she contemplates her initial impression, taking him for a superficial jock, her usual attraction to a more intellectual appearing male. “He’s got a warm smile and genuinely curious eyes. His hands…they’re huge, but gentle.”

“His hands?” Vangie questions, suspecting of their
roaming.
“And you know this how?”

“From his handshake, Vangie.” Savannah rolls her eyes at her sister’s insinuation. “I just met him yesterday.”

“Will there be future meetings?” Jac continues, her eyebrow rising.

“Maybe. Think I’m going to meet him for a run this weekend.” Savannah looks to her eldest sister, a bit of approval seeking in her glance.

“Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast, Savannah? I mean, you’re newly divorced,” an always cautious Vangie points out. “I think you should take some time for yourself.”