The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County (14 page)

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Authors: Magan Vernon,H.J. Bellus

BOOK: The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County
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Chapter Twenty-Five

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I’ve been waiting for Blanche to crack, but she’s shocked the shit out of me. Her and Clancy have been hooked at the hips and when he’s at work, it’s Luna or myself hovering over her.

“Shit.” Blanche throws her arms up after setting up her chair at the game. “I forgot fucking snacks.”

“Language,” Luna warns with her baby on nipple. “I figured you would, so I sent Brady to the farmer’s market.”

“Thanks, Luna.” Blanche plops down in her chair and begins chugging from my insulated mug.

“Slow down, pony, that’s the straight whiskey one.”

“Shit is stout.”

I shake my head at her and pull out another thermal mug, filling it half with soda and then the rest whiskey. She remains quiet, sipping her drink while the game begins. Blanche waves to Sadie on the field every once in awhile, but for the most part she zones out.

She doesn’t constantly check out Clancy’s ass or make a mean comment when Moira joins the group. Luna reaches over and clutches her hand when a very pregnant woman waddles past us. It’s been nearly two weeks and the pain of loss is still very fresh.

Brady places his hands on her shoulders and gives her a gentle squeeze. I’d love to see someone fuck with Blanche right now; Hulk on Brady would be downright sexy and fucking wet dream worthy.

“The league officials are here today. You need to be on your best behavior.” Douchey Doug does a hip pop that’s gag worthy in front of us.

“No worries, sweet cheeks,” Moira stands twirling her hair.

“Yeah, no worries, Dougie.” Blanche pops up to her feet, shimmying her titties nearly free out of her V-neck. “We’ve got your back in more than one way.”

“Fuck me,” Brady mutters.

And so it seems, the fighting Blanche has come out to play—no doubt fueled by the whiskey.

“Queenie, keep these girls under control.” Doug sends me a wink before jogging back on to the field.

Moira and Blanche turn their death stares on me instead of each other. Brady must sense my pain as he steps up to me. The two vicious hound dogs don’t relent with their evil stares. I only shrug which causes them to close in on me. Their teeth are bared and ready to pounce, until the scream of a child draws their attention from me.

We all zone in on the area where the cries come from and exhale when we notice it’s on the other team. It’s still not a great feeling, but at least it’s not my Annie. Miles and Clancy have all the kids down on one knee and silent, while the other player is lifted to his feet and finally helped off the field.

When you can’t beat them then join the assholes. My fingertips curl around my very own ice-cold metal tumbler. The liquid goes down easily, leaving a burn down the back of my throat. I keep an eye on Blanche, shit; I sit right next to her and pay close attention to the game, coaches, and the fucking awkward ref. The game floats by, and I don’t miss the nip slips and crotch shots from Moira and Blanche, I can’t control them so I sip again on my drink and give Doug the same thing. My nuts, cock, and nips slip just like the girls next to me. This amount of alcohol, soccer, and us should never be mixed.

Mrs. Morningwood finally steps in and ushers all the young ones from the huddle. They won four to zero. I’m thinking she may have got one too many nip, and or nut slips, and I feel like a jackwagon, but the alcohol streaming through my bloodstream overwhelms everything else.

Annie kisses me on the cheek with her toothy grin and the morsels of granola from her chocolate chip bar hanging between her teeth. “Love you, Q. You’re the best.”

My hand is numb, but I pat her back, and feel all emotions stream through me from her love and acceptance. It may be difficult or near fucking impossible being me here in the butt crack of Iowa, but when Annie smiles and loves like there’s no tomorrow, then I know my job is fucking easy.

“Love you, Sissy.” I hug her tighter feeling genuine love course through me. “Annie…”

“I know, Q, I can be whoever I want to be.”

I give her one last squeeze, wondering where in the hell the time has gone, from the time I came home to my brother’s funeral watching the weeping child by his casket. I’ll never forget when a lawyer told me she was mine. I flipped and drank a bottle of Vodka. My brother had just died. He was the idol. The perfect child, quarterback, hometown hero, the pride of our father, and ultimately the best father and solider, and now gone forever.

And even though with all of the liquid courage flowing through my bloodstream…I’m a complete failure. The child whose parents would never accept him. There was no adoption or forced parenthood with my mom and dad. Nope, I was born of their genetics and they fucking hate me, but ironically enough my perfect older brother, Mr. All-American, left his daughter to me.

I’ve read the damn blogs and even the fucking what to expecting when you’re expecting when waiting for the next client…and I know all too well how you can truly fuck up being a parent. I have a penis; but can do hair like a fucking magician stuck in butt crack fucking Iowa raising a little girl.

I’d do anything for that girl. Sink my ding-dong into any sinkhole or rat old ladies’ hair until arthritis attacks each of my knuckles.

“Claaaaa…I mean Quinnncyyy…” Blanche drawls out, and I’m not sure if it’s her Iowa drawl or L.A. whatever. I have to stop and pay very close attention, but when Moira slips a nip in front of Blanche my nuts fucking quiver in fear. The men have left the field.

Clancy and Brady left a while ago, after checking there were no weapons around any of us. I didn’t miss the look both of them shot me before leaving. It was “you better watch Blanche or else”.

Death By Nipple

Even the few hairs I missed on my ass cheeks while shaving this morning, oh yes, they cringe. The fucking hairs on my ass curl watching Moira talk into a microphone via Blanche’s nipple. I relax, then Doug’s dick and nuts and his lips wrapped around my dick invade! His liquid popped Blanche’s cherry and fertilized Moira the Whoira’s eggs.

I gasp, but it doesn’t seem to stop Moira from screaming into Blanche’s tit. My knuckles, then palms, then knuckles again, scrub my eyeballs. When my pupils focus back in, it’s Moira’s belting the words to “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey around Blanche’s areola, that lets me know we are all fucked. There is no way in hell this night could turn out okay.

When Blanche and Moira stand together signing in their fake water bottles, I finally relax and smile back at them. Thinking maybe the world will go on without fucking world war whatever. Then they sync into air guitars, while nailing each word like they’re a regular cover band.

The carefree vibe running through all of us spirals me right back to our high school days. The only thing different is that Luna isn’t wrapped up in Brady and the other girls don’t have men by their sides. Glimpses of time pass, as the sun sets over Beaver Falls, where I see opportunities to bring up the shit between Moira and Blanche, but I fear ruining the moment of joy between all of us.

Luna nudges my shoulder while sipping on a beer. “Look at those two.”

“I know I was just thinking the same thing.” I glance back to Moira and Blanche continuing to sing the next song. “Should you be drinking?”

Luna shrugs while wrinkling her nose. “Brady’s been telling me to quit nursing and one beer won’t hurt.”

With each sip of beer she takes, I see her relax into the chair. Blanche stumbles and falls to the ground in a heap of sobs when “November Rain” by Guns and Roses begins to play.

“What’s wrong?” Moira slurs and falls next to her.

Luna and I are both up on our feet and over to them, until we all sit in a circle around Blanche. Blanche’s tears stream down her face and Moira begins to sing the song in Spanish.
Is this really happening, right now?

Luna covers Blanche’s hand and gently squeezes it. Moira doesn’t seem to be concerned with the current situation as she continues singing a bit louder. Her high pitch squeals begin to grate my nerves.

“Moira, go suck Doug’s dick and shut-up.” I finally spit out and flop back on the grass. The night sky is pitch black speckled with a few stars.

She promptly shuts up and sticks out her bottom lip. “I need a dick. Hell, I’d even take Doug’s dick.”

Blanche’s tears dry up quickly and her typical anger towards Moira rears its ugly head. “You’re a dirty slut, Moira.”

“I think we’ve all heard that before.” Moira rolls her eyes.

“Oh shit,” Luna mumbles and then chugs down her beer.

The two women are drunk as fuck and ready to spar.

“Just get it out, you two, and get the hell over it.” I throw my hands up in the air while still lying on my back.

“Queenie, don’t antagonize them,” Luna warns.

“Fuck it. They need to work this shit out,” I growl expecting the war to bust out.

“You sucked Doug’s dick first,” Moira lashes out.

I hear Blanche moving, but don’t even try to look up. “Yeah, no shit. He was my love, my boyfriend, and I caught you two fucking in a locker room.”

Luna tries to get between the two women and that’s when I finally sit up, spinning from the effects of the alcohol. Blanche nearly has Moira by the throat while still yelling.

“You dumb bitch, you always wanted what was mine, and never stopped until you had it all. Head cheerleader and fucking Doug’s dick.”

“You only fucking hate me, Blanche, because I’ve been the only person in the tiny town to let you know that you’re not all that. You don’t run this town and I can fuck whoever I want.”

“No shit, you’ve made that clear as day,” Blanche lunges the rest of the way forward, successfully clutching the front of her throat. “You better stay away from Clancy or I’ll kill you.”

“Enough.” Luna dives between them.

I let out a hearty laugh watching the wrestling match in front of me. It’s not funny, but I’m sick of these two fighting. Blanche needs to get her anger out and get the hell over it.

“He told me I was a better fuck than you.” Moira fights to get out.

“Stay away from Clancy.”

“You afraid he’ll like me more than you.” Moira’s voice is barely audible from Blanche’s hand wrapped around her neck and Luna’s flailing body trying to break them up.

“Fuck off, Whoira.”

“Doug said everything about me was better than you.”

“Jesus.” I jump up to my feet, swaying from side to side. “Enough. Enough. I sucked Doug’s dick in high school, and he sucked me off the other night.”

The attention of all three girls is now focused on me. I wait for Blanche’s anger to boil up in her, but it never comes. Moira looks completely shocked and Luna mumbles something about needing more alcohol.

I ignore them and only focus on Blanche, knowing that I probably just ruined a friendship with my best friend. She sits still, her complexion ghost white, with trickles of tears streaming down her face.

“Blanche,” I whisper.

“I don’t hate you, Moira.” She finally speaks, but it’s low. It takes several more moments before the other two pay attention to Blanche. “I don’t hate you or hate Beaver Falls. I’m scared and it’s easy to hate what’s easy. I’m scared and just lost the life I knew in L.A. with Sadie, then I just lost a baby, and I’m halfway living life happily and I don’t want to lose all of it.”

I sink down to my knees and pull my sobbing best friend into a long hug, just holding her. Luna reaches over and clutches to Blanche’s hand, while Moira does the same thing clutching her other hand. The four of us sit in silence letting Blanche cry away her fears.

“You deserve happiness, Blanche.” I mumble into the top of her head. “Don’t let fear or anger ruin it.”

Luna begins to speak. “Fresh start for all of us from here on out. We’re a group of soccer moms reunited to stand together for their kids.”

“Yes,” Moira adds.

“I’m afraid to love you guys because it seems something will go wrong.” Blanche never looks up.

“We’re soccer moms who’ve all shared Doug’s dick, except for me,” Luna holds up both hands. “…if we can get through that then we can get through anything.”

Luna’s final comment sends moments of silence through our group. Moira’s not gloating, Blanche isn’t brewing up her next string of mean words, Luna has finally gone silent, and it’s as if a dash of magic has been sprinkled over the four of us.

The stars of our worlds have finally lined up and we don’t have to have deep love for one another as best friends, but respect fills all of us.

“I just can’t lose Clancy or leave Beaver Falls,” Blanche finally mumbles through her streaming tears.

Moira crawls across the circle and wraps her up in a long hug. “Doug was your first and I was wrong. Completely wrong. I’m sorry.”

Luna scoots her way over to my side and we listen to the two finally reconnect.

“No, I should be sorry for the way I’ve treated you.” Blanche wraps her arms around Moira. “It was because of you and what happened, that helped me leave this town and ultimately you gave me my Sadie, Moira.”

“Truce?” Moira asks.

“Truce, you whore.”

We all erupt in laughter. I check, double, and then triple check that no hair pulling or fists fly with the two hugging and working it out. It seems that bit of magic that was sprinkled on us Beaver Falls Alumni was real.

“Salon time, bitches.” I leap up to my feet and clap my hands together.

“Who in the hell thinks of salmon in this time of need and forgiveness?” Luna looks up to me puzzled.

In unison, Moira and Blanche both slowly enunciate, “Salon.”

God bless Luna’s granola loving ways, but her true ditz shows every once in a while and I only get to chuckle about it when Brady isn’t around. I mean if he was here I’d be sporting wood or thinking about tapping some...The same moment Moira rises from the ground in her golden sequined hooker dress, revealing half of her ass cheeks. My dick shrivels on fucking demand seeing her lady ass.

“Salon.” Each sound vibrates low from my chest, none of these drunken hoes can even begin to second-guess between salmon or salon.

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