Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories Read Online Free PDF

I’m all right. I’ve got a boring meeting in half an hour, but otherwise I’m good.” She must have looked skeptical because he added, “I’m not thinking of ending it all in this fountain, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    “It’s possible. You can drown in two inches of water.”
    “How?” The man shook his head. “You must be somebody’s mother. I should have known from the ruthless way you handed that kid over. Now tell me to put the stick down before I poke my eye out.”
    Zoë glared at him. “I think somebody needs a nap.”
    He laughed suddenly, a real full laugh, and said, “You
are
somebody’s mother. I knew it. Got any pictures?”
    “No,” Zoë snarled.
    “What are their names?” he asked and without thinking, Zoë said, “Bianca. Bianca and … Toby.”
    “Bianca?” The man scowled at her. “You named a helpless baby Bianca?”
    “It’s a lovely name,” Zoë flared. “What did you name yours, Dick and Jane?”
    “Harold,” the man said. “Harold and Annabelle.”
    “Harold.” Zoë splashed her foot in the water, disgusted. “You named your son Harold. How often does he get beaten up on the playground? Daily?”
    “Harold happens to be the star of the Little League.” Harold’s father stopped, distracted for a moment. “If I can just get him to stop choking on his swing, I think we’re talking big league potential.”
    “I bet you yell at him from the stands,” Zoë said. “Poor Harold.”
    “I do not yell at Harold from the stands.” He shook his head at her obtuseness. “I coach. I yell at him from the bench. Which he understands because he is All Boy. You wouldn’t understand this stuff, because you’re a girl.” He grinned at her. “How do you do, Bianca’s mother. I’m Ben.”
    His smile was a real killer, lighting his long face with intelligence. Zoë felt a moment of regret that he was Harold’s father and not someone unattached that she might start a Bianca with even though she did
not
want a baby. “I’m Zoë. Nice to meet you.”
    “Hello, Zoë. Now look, you’ve got to get Toby into Little League—“
    “Why Toby?” Zoë asked. “Why not Bianca? What does Annabelle do? Stand on the sidelines and watch?”
    “Annabelle is in the six-year-old league, of course. My wife Juliet—who also has excellent legs—coaches. And when Annabelle plays, Harold and I stand on the sidelines and cheer a lung out for her.”
    Zoë smiled at him and he smiled back at her, and the air around the fountain grew warmer. “Then what?” she said, torn between envy and longing. “After the game, what happens?”
    “What?” He blinked as if he’d lost his place in the conversation. “Oh. Well, then, uh … we all go home and I grill hamburgers. And my wife mows the back yard and when it gets dark, we watch videos.”
    “Oh.” Zoë felt a stab that went to the bone. Lucky Juliet to have Ben who liked being a dad. Although she did have to mow the yard. He lost points for that. “That’s nice.”
    “Yep,” Ben said. “That’s what we do. I suppose you and Ned have Toby in the ballet. That’s no good. You’ve got to—“
    “Nick,” Zoë said. “And no, we do not have Toby in the ballet. Toby is into kung fu.” As she spoke, she could see Toby, blond and serious in his little black pajama kung-fu outfit. It probably had a special outfit name, and he’d keep reminding her, exasperated, but he’d love her anyway, he’d come running out to the car after his lesson—
    “Violent kid,” Ben said. “Little League is a friendly sport.”
    “And Bianca plays tennis,” Zoë said imagining her little blonde daughter. “She has a match tonight and then we’re going out for pizza and home to watch videos.” She stopped, conscious that she’d co-opted Ben’s life.
    “The kids always fall asleep halfway through the movie,” Ben said, staring into space. “So it always ends up just me and Jeannette, stretched out on the couch, watching the