The Playing Fields

Chapter 25

William dropped the dirty diaper in a plastic bag, knotted it tightly and carried it out to the garbage pail in the garage. Mary had gambled that the Crofts would be home before Candy would need changing, and she was right. She stood patiently while Shelia went down her check list, accepting her money from William, then waved a cheery good night and left quickly, her ancient Honda grumbling noisily as she drove down the Pathway.

"My poor little darling, did you have to wait for mommy to clean the pooh pooh?" Shelia cradled Candy in her arms, tucking the soft blanket about her chubby legs.

"Everything okay?" William asked, rinsing his fingers under the kitchen tap and drying them on the tea towel.

"Her little bottom was all pink," Shelia pouted in baby talk, "Mary should have changed her earlier."

"Well, she's fine now, aren't you Button?" He chucked his daughter under the chin and kissed her curly hair. "We should be weaning her off diapers anyway, hon."

"She's not ready, Bill. She's only three."

He debated arguing then changed the subject instead. "I thought you were terrific tonight. You have a real flare for acting, Sheel."

"You really think so? I was so nervous when Milo and I were supposed to be arguing. He's very intimidating." She lowered Candy into her crib, checking the locks on the side rails and moving the stuffed toys safely to the bottom.

"Yeah, well that's Milo. If you ask me, he's just playing himself." He gave his daughter a tummy tickle and turned on the combination monitor and night-light. "You want anything before bed?"

"I don't think so." They walked together to the bedroom, splitting to either side of the king-sized bed, and joining again as they crawled under the sheets.

"What did you think of Ti's dress?" She turned to face her husband, resting on one elbow. "If she showed any more cleavage she'd have to polish her knees."

"William laughed aloud at his wife's out of character comment, looking at her with surprise. "From what I gather, her knees get polished regularly."

"William! That's wicked." Shelia giggled, slapping his chest in reply.

"Look who's talking," he countered defensively, "when did you start making such brazen comments?"

She flopped back on the pillow, arms stretched above her head, gripping the headboard. "It is so, not me, isn't it?" She chuckled, searching her mind for an explanation. "I think- maybe playing a role has broken down some insecurities... kind of loosened the gravel around my feet."

What the hell! William stared at his wife's profile with puzzled concern; her eyes glistened with a look of childlike discovery and her lips curled up in a wonderful smile.

THE PLAY

"You look concerned dear," Victoria leaned in the doorway of Nigel's darkened bedroom, "I thought things went quite well." The sudden, angry barking of a dog nearby startled him as he sat fiddling with the mouse by the computer.

"Hah," Victoria grinned, shuffling over to the window. "Sounds like Grouper is after that old raccoon. Grouper's the neighbour's dog next door."

He ignored her statement, moving from the computer to the bed. They both remained silent as the barking turned to growling, finally ending with a loud shout from the neighbour and a painful sounding squeal.

"Well, that was either the raccoon, Grouper, or Mrs. Horowitz." Veronica's smile faded when Nigel lay back on his pillow without responding. "Are we not speaking, Nigel?"