Page 70 of Love on the Main Stage
“Baseball references, really?” I groaned. “I tried to explain things to you?—”
“It’s boxing,” Pappa sighed.
“Ofcourseit is,” I grumbled.
Pappa held out his hand. “Picture.”
Before I could protest, Alicia snatched my unlocked mobile and scrolled through my photos. There were a host of ridiculous snaps Betty sent from the road—mostly pictures of her kissing horse noses orselfies with a horse.
“See, she’s cute,” Alicia offered.
Dad nodded, as if impressed. It was his pat on the back that somehow sold his approval of my new girlfriend.
“She’s young,” he gave a dorky thumbs up.
“Jag dör här,” I groaned, wanting to die there.
“You didn’t die,” Dad said. “Nej.”
The baby woke, suddenly angry at his transatlantic travel surroundings. Alicia stood to bop him around.
Dad continued in Swedish, “But she has a horse. Why? And this does not look like Norway?”
“She was showing in a competition in the U.S.. She’s an equestrian. She does this for a living.”
Sort of.
“She doesn’t have a job?” He tutted. “She needs a job. Riding horses isn’t a living.”
“She’s on her way to the Olympics,” I said. “And last I checked, you made all your money by slamming men into the boards harder than some other asshole, right?”
He quieted. “Well, I just know that horse girls… they want someone to support their habit.”
“I think she’s gonna be okay,” I said. “Fortunately enough for her, money isn’t an issue.”
“Rich? Young? Pretty? Good. Horses?” He pulled a face.
I snickered, “Well, it could be worse, Pappa.”
“She’s really sweet, too,” Clarice added, guessing context by tone. “Thinks the world of Mary. She’s lovely.”
Dad handed my mobile back, satisfied.
Almost on cue, my phone rang. It was Betty.
I answered. “Yes?”
“Are you in Palm Springs yet?”
“Negative. We’re at the gate in New York.”
“Cool.”
“Why?” I asked, confused.
“Well, I am doing a catch ride at an event in RanchoMission Viejo. Someone got knocked up and then someone got run over.”
“What?”
