Callie’s Last Dance

56.

CONNIE SAW TOM as some sort of invincible being. To his credit, he was, in fact, a tough son-of-a bitch. I told her that, and said he gave a good accounting of himself, so she’d have a good memory of him. Nevertheless, she didn’t believe I could possibly beat Tom Bell in a fair fight.

By way of proof, she said, “You don’t have a mark on you!”

“Not true,” I said, and rolled my sleeves up to prove it. “My fists are so swollen I can hardly close my hands. My wrists are sprained from the force of the impact, and my forearms are bruised to the bone.”

“That’s it?” she said. “I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay. I’m not trying to impress you.”

“Why do you keep looking at your watch?”

“I’m waiting for it to be exactly three-sixteen.”