Read Online Round Robin by Joseph Flynn - Free Book Online

caught. And there he went, almost bouncing out the door he felt so giddy. Smart enough, maybe, to pull it off and dumb enough, no, young enough, not to know how badly he was being used.
    Because while Robin would deliver if David did, she wouldn’t give him his kiss until he was eighteen ... and then only if he still wanted it.
    Mimi came over to Robin at the register.
    “That was quite a little conversation you two had.”
    Mimi was still a little ticked at David, and clearly she wanted to know what had been said.
    But Robin only nodded.
    Then she said, “I used to think men were awful.”
    “And now you don’t?” Mimi asked, surprised.
    “Of course, I do. It’s just that now I think maybe we’re even worse. Me, anyway.”
     
    Robin knew.
    Before she ever got home, while she was still three houses down the block, she knew that Manfred had arrived, was in fact present at this very moment. The thought struck her that her home had been changed forever and a chill passed through her. On top of everything else, she smelled something peculiar. Maybe that was how she knew. It wasn’t a foul odor, just something unusual. A scent that was not her own.
    Wintergreen oil?
    Sniffing like a hound — there was a pleasant image, she thought — she followed her nose to the backyard. She was getting close to the source. It wasn’t coming from her house, it was coming from the garage. Robin stepped cautiously over that way and peeked through the garage’s rear window.
    Her eyes bugged out at what she saw.
    A roar that would shame a lion drove her away from the window.
    She backpedaled quickly and stumbled on her bum ankle as a huge, clanking jolt shook the ground. Robin fell on her can.
    She was seated there, dumbfounded, when Manfred appeared in the doorway of the garage and unnerved her even more. Looking up at him, starting at his ankles and tracking upward, she had never seen so much flesh, so much ... so much ... man. He was clothed, if you could call it that, in some kind of spandex unitard with an enormous leather belt around a waist that had the circumference of a beer barrel. He also wore work boots, and a bright yellow headband was stretched around his massive head. But his legs, his arms, his shoulders, his neck, his face, they were all so huge and pink, everything bulging and pulsing...
    Robin felt her head begin to spin.
     
    She awoke seated on the sofa in her living room. She awoke because her right foot was freezing. She pulled it out of a bucket of ice that had been tilted on its side and held in place by a pair of folded bath towels. When her mind cleared and she remembered what had happened, Robin looked around quickly. She saw that she was alone. More importantly, she felt that she was alone.
    Manfred wasn’t here.
    But he must’ve brought her here. He had to have carried her up the stairs. He had to fill the bucket with ice and put her foot in it. So he had been in her apartment. The phone rang. The portable. He’d left it on the sofa next to her.
    She pressed the answer button but said nothing.
    “Manfred Welk here. You are all right?” he asked.
    “Yes, I think so.”
    “I checked your eyes. Your pupils were equal and reacted to light.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Your ankle needed the ice, but I didn’t want the frostbite for you, so I called.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I am a power lifter. The weights, ja?”
    Robin almost said “ja” in reply, but she caught herself.
    “I understand that now,” she answered.
    “I was on the national team. On my way to L.A. Olympics, but Russians said nyet.”
    Robin wanted to crack wise, but she somehow lacked the will.
    “That’s too bad,” she said.
    Manfred asked, “Would you like me to come up and rewrap your ankle?”
    “No,” she said quickly, still edgy, “that won’t be necessary.”
    “Ja, that is what I thought. I left a first-aid pamphlet for you on your kitchen table. Red Cross instructions. They will show you how the ankle should be