Trick Shot

The bodice was a lacy black number from that leather shop next to TJ Maxx and cost as much as four packs of diapers. An irresponsible purchase. Gorgeous though. Leanne squirted some more mousse in her hand and scrunched up her raven curls.

“You’re not a mum tonight,” she told herself sternly, getting into character, “you’re a sexy, single, thirty-something hustler. You take no prisoners.”

“Leanne?” her mother bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. “Where are the extra baby wipes?”

“Just a minute!” She shoved her boobs into place, adjusted the straps, and stepped back to observe her whole outfit: black bodice, silver skull belt, snakeskin-effect leggings, and thigh-high boots.

Did she look ridiculous?

A little voice inside her head whispered that mums were not supposed to behave like this, that she should change back into her baggy, Walmart T-shirt and pants, bake an apple pie and clean the house.

But she hadn’t been out for over a year! Not since before she was pregnant, before the heating and gas and electric and water bills seemed to gobble up every penny they earnt. And she wasn’t old yet. Thirty wasn’t old, was it?

Leanne shook her head, forcing the self-doubt to recede. This wasn’t just a night out. Lately, she’d lost sight of who she was, turning inward, feeling suffocated by her baby and unbearably guilty about it. Drowning in tedium. It had been her mum that noticed.

She needed this.

The bodice was tighter than it had ever been before, but as long as she kept her jacket on it wasn’t that noticeable. As she stood, her inside jacket pocket clinked faintly, making her grin; her lucky marbles were tucked in there, just like always. She rolled her shoulders and winked at herself in the mirror. “Go time.”

At the front door, she thanked her mum again. “Everything you need is in the cupboard under the changing table. And if you want—”

“Ooh! You look nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Rock’n’roll biker night, is it?”

“Mum.”

Her mum chuckled and raised her hands in self defence. “Sorry! None of my business!” Then she shooed her away. “Go! Have fun!”

Leanne rolled her eyes and stepped out into the chill, September evening.

#

Rack-em Rik chalked his cue and eyed the table from underneath his earthen-brown Stetson. The remaining three balls were well placed, with the black just shy of the middle pocket. He could clear it and win the game, but where was the fun in that? It took just as much skill to test his opponent by narrowly missing his shots and letting the white land in a tricky location. It also had the benefit of concealing just how good he really was. Most satisfying. Especially when it was against someone like Big Kev — a pool hall goon if ever he’d met one.

“Thought you said you were good,” Kev snorted.

“I’m just warming up.”

“Yeah, right.” Kev leant over the table, the cue tiny in his meaty hands. One, two, three shots and he had potted the last of his stripes, leaving the black. Rik allowed his eyebrows to twitch: Kev was better than he’d thought.

In one fluid, delicate touch, Kev sunk the black and swiftly pocketed the twenty-dollar bet. “Another?” he asked.

Rik feigned deliberation, rubbing his smooth jaw. Earlier today, he’d made his first sale in weeks: a 2021 Toyota Camry SE with 35,000 miles on the clock . He’d already inflated that $600 commission by fifty bucks, but could he make it go further? The temptation made his fingertips itch.

Rusty’s Pool Hall was quiet. Small groups of players were keeping to their shaded corners. If he was going to make some real money tonight, it would have to be from the delightful Kev. “Yeah,” he said, reaching for his rum and cola. Sometimes, life was about taking risks. “Go on then.”

“Kev! Hey, bro.” Another man — a shorter, stockier version of Big Kev — appeared, handing his friend a pint. “Who’s this then?”

“Name’s Rik.”

“Sid.”

They shook hands and Sid squeezed so hard Rik felt his bones grind together, but he didn’t flinch. You couldn’t show weakness to thugs like these. School yard rules applied.

A door banged shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of women’s boots on wooden flooring.

“Woah.” Big Kev whistled. “Check out what just walked in.”

Rik glanced over and froze. A total babe, decked out in black leather with chains on her boots that clinked with every step, was arriving at the bar, huge curly hair bouncing around her shoulders. Suddenly he was nineteen again, his heart fluttering as she leant one elbow on the bar and scanned the hall: cool, calculated.

“Maybe she wants to play doubles?” Sid said, elbowing Big Kev.

Kev chortled. “I’ll double team her alright.”

Rik grimaced and knelt down to release the balls.

A moment later, the woman approached. She was even more stunning in the green glow of the overhead table lights, which enhanced her impressive curves. Rik wanted to throw her over his shoulder and sprint for the hills.

“Hello,” she said, flashing an innocent smile at the two goons. “Is it winner stays on?”

Rik tried to meet her eyes from under the brim of his Stetson, to warn her, but no luck.

“Yeah,” Kev said, “and we’re playing for money, so…”

“Oh?” She sipped her gin and tonic. “How much?”

“Fifty.”

“Fifty? Gosh, I don’t know…”

Rik grabbed his cue and cleared his throat. “If it’s too much for you, we don’t have to—”

“No, no.” She waved a hand, casually produced a few notes from her bust and placed them on the edge of the table. “I’ll play.”

#

Leanne bent over the pool table, stuck her tongue out a little, and pretended to miscue.

She groaned in embarrassment as the white went off in the opposite direction of her final stripe. But then it hit the cushion, then another, forming a perfect triage of angles which brought the white sailing back towards her intended target.

She gasped. “Oh my god, yes! Come on!”

The stripe sunk. The black now an easy, straight pot.

“I want a rematch,” Rik said, before the black had even hit the pocket. “Your luck can’t carry on like this all night.”

Leanne won the game and counted her winnings, tilting her head away from the light to hide the heat rising to her face. Rik — who looked like a young Clint Eastwood — had been making eyes at her all evening and not in the lewd manner of Sid and Kev, who so far had won more games overall.

“Wanna make it more interesting?” she said, batting her eyelashes. Rik was standing so close she could smell his cologne: a spicy, woody aroma that made her skin tingle.

“How? You got something else hidden in there?” he asked, dropping his gaze momentarily to her chest.

She opened her mouth in mock outrage and slapped his arm. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Hey,” Big Kev interjected, looming at them from the other side of the table. “I’m next.”

“Not yet, buddy. I want to win some of my money back.”

“Tough. It’s my go. You two wanna flirt, shove off and do it elsewhere. Here, we play pool. And it’s my turn.”

Leanne felt Rik tense next to her. “Kev,” she said, smoothing out her voice. “Why don’t we play doubles, hm? Me and Rik against you two. That way everyone gets to play.”

Kev exchanged a look with Sid, who muttered something. Kev smirked. “Yeah, alright toots. We’ll play. Best of five. And the bet is now five hundred.”

Leanne glared. She would not be intimidated by this oversized bully. “Fine.”

“Make it eight,” Rik added.

“Eight?” Leanne almost dropped the money. Steadying herself, she leaned in close to confer privately. “Can we afford that?”

“Not if we lose,” he whispered. “How drunk are you?”

“Not as much as I appear.”

“Good.”

“Ahem,” Kev said. “Are we playing or what?”

Rik nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Great. I’m getting another beer,” Kev said. “Rack-em, Rik.”

Leanne fought to keep the smile from her face as her husband did as he was told.

#

It was just like old times. For now, they were Leanne and Rik again, instead of Mummy and Daddy. No thoughts of bottle feeds or diaper changes entered their minds as they stole lascivious glances and grazed each other's hips in passing.

However, they had to pay attention. After three games, Kev and Sid were winning 2-1. If they won the next game, they won the bet.

And losing eight hundred bucks was not on the agenda.

The notes sat in a thick wad on an adjacent table, drawing the eye. They couldn’t lose. That money represented their rent and food for the coming month.

Leanne knew she should be furious with Rik, but it was hard to stay mad as the thrill coursed through her body like wild fire. She felt alive. Her heartbeat thudding in her chest.

It was her turn to break and also time to put those two in their place. She sent the balls into a nice spread-out pattern and walked the perimeter of the table slowly, chalking her cue and plotting her game.

“Whenever you’re ready, darlin,” Big Kev said.

Rik flickered his gaze to the pocket closest to him and she gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

Five balls went down in quick succession. Then, Leanne ‘missed’ and left the white tucked behind one of her own balls, making Sid’s next shot near impossible.

Sid fouled.

Rik sank the remaining balls and won the game.

“Now for the decider,” Rik said, keeping his tone neutral. “Your break.”

Kev exchanged a few gruff words with Sid, who scowled, clearly reprimanded.

Leanne turned to hide her face from them and poured some of her drink into one of a small collection of dirty glasses on their table. When Sid next looked at her, she appeared to have downed the rest of her gin and gave him a lopsided smile.

Big Kev hunched over the table and broke. He claimed stripes and continued to pot another two. Rik stood by Leanne and lowered his voice.

“What do you think?”

“One,” she said, referring to their yellow spot, “three in the middle, four, two, spin-back to line up the seven, six in the far-right pocket, five. Eight ball in the centre.”

He nodded. “I adore your hand-ball coordination.”

“Focus,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “And get your stick ready.”

#

Rik’s spin didn’t quite take. The white came to rest against the cushion instead of bouncing off it. From there, he couldn’t see the seven.

“Five,” Leanne mouthed.

Rik rolled the white toward the five, nudging the spot closer to the far pocket, but not far enough.

Leanne fought down the panic. That was their first real mistake.

Sid flexed his arms and prowled forward, chalking his cue. Big Kev grumbled something and the shorter man nodded. They had four stripes left.

Sid potted all of them.

Only the black remained. Leanne thought she was going to be sick. Rik stood next to her, gripping her hand in his.

“Get ready,” he whispered. “If they win, we run.”

She swallowed, praying that Sid would miss. The black was snugged right up against the cushion near the centre. Sid would need to hit it just right to roll it toward the pocket.

Sid lined up. No one said a word.

The only sounds were the gentle hum of the overhead light and the background murmur of other pool players sinking or missing their shots. Somewhere farther down the hall, balls were released, rattling down the tunnel for the start of a new game.

Sid played.

He hit true. Gently, the black crept toward the pocket and hovered over lip, but didn’t fall. Leanne held her breath. Their opponents did the same, glaring at the black as if threatening it to go down.

After a moment, once she trusted herself to speak without her voice trembling, she said, “My turn.”

“You can do this,” Rik said, closing one hand into a fist. “No prisoners, remember?”

That comment called her back: the real Leanne. Daring, audacious, cheeky, confident to a fault. So far, she’d only been pretending, acting a part. No prisoners. How long had it been since he’d said that to her? Two years? Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but gosh it felt like forever.

She gave him one curt nod and stepped forward, steeling her nerves. They had three spots left and the black.

With cold, methodical precision she lined them up, one by one, and sunk them. The seven was caught by a fine cut and rolled into the middle. The six smacked into the back of the far pocket. The five didn’t stand a chance.

Leanne finished the game with a sharp, expert hit to the top of the cue ball which potted the black and spun the white backward so it didn’t follow down the hole.

“God dammit!” Sid tossed his cue on the table, and stalked off toward the restrooms.

Leanne screamed and grabbed the pile of money.

Deftly, she split it in half and handed Rik his cut.

“Eight hundred!” she giggled.

“Not bad for a night’s work,” he whispered.

“Shhh!”

She placed one hand on his chest. The scent of the Dior perfume he had bought her for Christmas wafted up his nostrils, mixing with the taste of spiced rum on his tongue. Rik leaned in, without thinking, and kissed the top of her head.

“Hang on a minute,” Big Kev said, his beady eyes narrowing. “Do you two know each other?”

Immediately, Leanne straightened. “Oh no. I just…um…”

Rik met Kev’s gaze and his stomach dropped: he knew.

Rik yanked Leanne away from the table just as Big Kev swung his pool cue in a wide arc, narrowly missing her head.

“Fucking hustlers!” he roared.

They spun on their heels and sprinted for the exit. Rik knocked a few chairs over in his wake, hoping to slow down the pursuit. Speed was on their side, he reckoned, judging by Kev’s weight-lifter build.

Rik threw himself up the stairs, into the door, and stumbled outside, closely followed by Leanne, who paused at the top while Rik straddled his motorbike and started the engine. It spluttered, refusing to start. Rik smacked it with his palm and tried again.

Leanne reached inside her jacket.

Big Kev, now accompanied by an equally-outraged Sid, jostled each other at the bottom of the stairs before storming upward. This was the moment, a second more and it would all be over. Leanne tipped her lucky marbles down the steps. Recklessly, she watched them bounce for a half-second before launching herself onto the back of the now-thrumming motorbike.

Cackling hysterically, Leanne and Rik fled into the night, leaving their victims cursing and howling in their wake.

#

“How do I look?” Leanne asked as they walked up their driveway.

“A bit windswept,” he said, “but don’t worry. Your mum will probably be asleep.”

Sure enough, they found Leanne’s mum dozing on the sofa bed and little Nancy fast asleep in her cot. Leanne and Rik gazed at their bundle silently, not daring to touch her lest she wake up.

Upstairs, Rik fumbled with the ties at the back of Leanne’s bodice.

“It’s so tight,” Leanne said. “Just tear it open.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The material ripped and thumped to the floor. Leanne moaned as Rik’s hands cradled her breasts.

“That got a bit dicey, didn’t it, my dear.”

“Just a tad. We’ll have to cross that place off the list,” she said, speaking as if no time had passed since their last tour. It did feel like yesterday. “And I need to replenish my lucky pouch.”

He nodded and kissed her neck.

Leanne asked, “I know it’s a bit premature, but are we going to teach Nancy how to play pool?”

“Our little Nine-Ball Nancy?” Rik grinned. “How could we not?”