Free The 90 Day Rule by Diane Nelson Page B

there’s a first time fer everthin’.”
    Leveling coal black eyes on my inappropriate dress—yes, I should have suited up for the court, my bad—Coach said, “Six thirty. Don’t be late. We’ll work us up some patterns. You’ll need—”
    He rattled off a list that contained most everything I was familiar with, then he handed over a thick sheaf of papers with an admonition to ‘study this’ and we were done.
    Chazz waited patiently in the hall, alone.
    I told him. “Go on back to the apartment. I need to get some uniforms and a locker. I’ll grab a bite at the student center. Coach wants me here at six-thirty.”
    Chazz trotted off and I pulled the cell out and pressed speed dial. Etty answered on the second buzz.
    “Hi, Hon. Everything’s going good. Be home late.” She made some mewling sounds of approval. “Um, Chazz is on his way. He’s, uh, he’s… um.”
    He’s going to fuck your brains out before dinner.
    I loved my daughter.
    And sometimes I hated her. Like right that minute.
    The walk to the locker room took forever. Jack Ryan’s office door was shut.
    And I got to feeling left out. He had my cell number. Didn’t he?
    With a sigh, I knew I was probably right. Pigs didn’t fly…
     

 
    Chapter Eight: Doomsday
     
     
     
     
    Tapping on the calendar, I smiled and made my big announcement, “I’m going apartment hunting this afternoon.”
    Chazz looked up, mildly interested. Hopeful, even.
    My daughter, not so much.
    “Mom, we’ve been over this. Staying here is no problem.”
    The usual ‘it is, it isn’t’, punctuated with examples and quid pro quos, followed in a see-saw pattern. It got repetitious fast so I opted to go for reinforcements.
    “Chazz? A little help?”
    The big man nodded noncommittally, but I knew I had his support. During practice the previous night, I’d gone where no potential mother-in-law had dared tread before, talking frankly about his and Etty’s relationship and how my presence was not conducive to good study habits and … other things. I even went so far as to specify what those ‘other things’ were.
    Our game got a lot less physical after that but he did allow as to how I was ‘pretty fucking cool’, to use his term.
    What I didn’t say was that they weren’t the only ones feeling cramped and sexually frustrated. Robert’s house had been too big and always too empty with just me rattling around in it, only making do and paying lip service to a life. Now I missed that space and the quiet time with my own thoughts.
    As for the sexual frustration? That was a whole new side to me that I needed to cogitate over. Feminist values aside, the urge to sit by the phone awaiting the call that never came required due process. Being modern allowed for a cell phone, along with the old standbys of white wine, tissues, endless chick DVDs and a comfortable couch on which to curl up. Check, check, check … futon, fail.
    The weighty tomes of my finance and econ books promised me plenty of metrics, but nothing that would clue me in as to how long to wait for a man professing ‘Christ Almighty, I want you’ to make good on that.
     
    Fool, you set the time limit.
    Yes, but…
    You took half the chains away so does that cut the time in half too?
     
    Good conservative Jessamine stalled at the ‘after twenty-two years why’ scenario, liberated Jes didn’t have a clue but she did have hope, senseless gut-wrenching hope.
    “Mom?”
    “Um, yeah, sorry.” Holding up the real estate section, I pointed to several circled ads of rooms available within walking distance of campus. “Chazz said he’d help me vet the landlords so I don’t end up in a bad situation.” Those had been his words, his concerns, so I took them seriously … and with no small amount of gratitude.
    What passed between Loretta and Chazz at that point didn’t bear thinking on.
    Hands on hips, Etty said, “Go with her.”
    And that was that.
    On our way down the stairs I said, “I need to