Games We Play (15 page)

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Mustard, relish?” he asked, and followed her finger as she pointed to the small condiments table located next to her booth. He set his beer down on the counter in front of her and walked away, leaving her alone with Barnabus.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

“Good,” she said, as she prepared his two hot dogs and handed them to him.

“Thank you,” he said, taking them from her. “Your aunt appreciates your being here, helping out the way you have,” he said. Compliments always helped, and he was still trying to make nice. It was also the truth. Myra was happy, a mild word for the pleasure she felt at having Kendall here, the niece she’d long since given up on knowing, for the entire summer.

“Good,” she said. She watched as he and Luis traded places. Cooper set his beer down and walked away, taking his turn to pimp out his hot dogs. Luis stood in front of her now, his beer in one hand, the two hot dogs in the other. He took a bite out of one, his sparkling-with-humor gaze glued to Kendall’s. How did he manage to grin while biting into his hot dog? She grinned too.

She looked around, as she’d been doing all day, wiping the counter, keeping things clean. She couldn’t help but glance at Cooper as he bent over, looking good—hard-day-working good—in his khaki shorts, T-shirt, and sandals. She remembered how it had felt when he’d held her, followed by all the things he’d said to her…His apology didn’t seem like it was enough, and just that quick, she was back to being irritated. She turned her eyes to the counter where his beer sat.

People had been setting their drinks on the counter all day, a holding place, as they doctored their orders of whatever. Some had left them behind, and she’d had to throw more than a few away. Kendall picked up the lone cup of beer that sat on her counter and stared into its contents.

No, Kendall
, a voice within her said,
this would be so beneath you
. Another voice said,
Do it, girl, he deserves it, you know he does
. The second voice won out, and she poured the contents of his cup to the ground, then placed it in the trashcan behind the counter, just as she’d done countless times today. Luis almost chocked on his food as he watched her.

Finished prepping his hot dogs, Cooper came back, scouring the counter for his cup of beer.

“Did you see my beer?” he asked, pointing to the now-empty counter. He looked at Kendall, and then at Luis, who stood beside him, coughing up a storm.

“Oh, was that your beer, Barnabus? I had no idea. People have been leaving their cups here all day, and I’ve had to pour them out. I’m so sorry. It’s a good thing you’re the beer guy. You can just pour yourself another cup, and it’ll even be free,” she said, smiling with a what-can-you-do expression, hands on her hips.

He stood there staring, and she stared right back at him.
Jackass
was her only thought.

Luis laughed loudly now, then winked at her. She returned his wink with a smile.

“So this is how you’re going to play it, Professor. I did apologize to you. I meant it too, by the way,” Cooper said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Play what? I think I accepted your apology too. Remember? I meant my bit too,” she said, then tilted her head to the side and waved her hand—all breezy. “We’re cool.”

He smiled, a not-so-nice one this time, and Kendall watched as he turned away.

“I like you,” Luis said, grinning now.

“What’s not to like?” she said, and smiled, winking at him again. He laughed and went to catch up with his friend.

Cooper looked back over his shoulder, and she gave him a nice smile, pure sugar that smile of hers, the new tea sweetener.

She did it on purpose
, Cooper thought as he walked away from her. Maybe he should be happy; at least she wasn’t ignoring him as she done for most of the day. He glanced back over his shoulder one more time. She was still staring at him, that fake smile on her face. He really hated to be called Barnabus, her reminder that he could be a dick.
She had no idea,
he thought.

He’d watched her off and on all day, and whenever he’d happened by, she’d kept her head down, working. He’d spoken to her more than once, especially if Myra was around. He wanted Myra to know that he was at least trying, even if the professor didn’t reciprocate, and he was only going to play the contrite role for so long. He’d apologized, she accepted, so what was up with her pouring out his beer?

He’d followed her nice little booty around today too. It was done up in some short denim jeans shorts, and a T-shirt with the university’s name embroidered across her nice breasts was tucked into the shorts, her nice legs leading to slim feet in tennis shoes. He’d been particularly attuned to those times when she’d bent to pick up something she’d dropped. Bent over was a good look for the professor.

He’d caught her eyes on him more than once. When Myra wasn’t around, her gaze had been all glare and anger, her version of the evil eye, he guessed, and that was fine with him. Two could play that game. He found himself getting angry
. What was that about
? he asked himself, surprised and annoyed, because this wasn’t that serious. Yeah, well…

“I take it she’s still angry with you?” Luis said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yep.”

“Too bad.”

“Yes, it is.”

“You could bring her around if you wanted to. You’re just not trying hard enough,” Luis said.

“Maybe I don’t want to bring her around or try hard enough.”

“Right. Sure you don’t.”

“I’ve apologized. I’m not about to beg. She can take it or leave it,” he said.

Luis didn’t say anything, not sure what to say or why his friend was acting so angry over something that supposedly wasn’t that serious.

“Give her some time, cut her some slack. You accused her of being some not-so-nice things.”

“And I’ve apologized for it, and more than once, might I add.”

“Sometimes it takes more than your pretty smile to move women along. I know you’re not used to working for it, but sometimes—”

“I didn’t work for it the first time.”

“Well, that was then, and this is now.”

Cooper laughed, ’cause how else to respond to that statement? “The things you say.”

“Her eyes were glued to your back the whole time when she poured your beer out,” Luis said, laughing. “She’s funny, you have to give her that.”

I don’t have to give her anything
, he thought, uncharitably, still angry with himself and a little bit with the professor. He’d had perfectly sound reasons for thinking the way he had, and the least she could do was acknowledge that he’d made a reasonable mistake. He hadn’t been a dick—her word, not his—without cause, and yes, there were times when being a dick was necessary.

Cooper looked back again. Kendall was smiling sincerely now at the woman and little girl who were standing in front of her booth.
Funny
was not the word he would use to describe the professor. She was sexy, pretty, fascinating, stubborn, interesting, irritating, and arousing, very much so. The arousing part and his desire for more were the most difficult parts of her to forget.

First week of June, Tuesday

“Morning, Aunt Myra,” Kendall said as she stepped into the back room. She found her aunt seated at the table, newspaper in hand. She bent and placed a kiss on her aunt’s cheek before taking a seat across from her.

“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?”

“Fine. It’s quiet out here,” she said. Her aunt chuckled.

“I’ve been living here so long, I don’t know any other way. Want some part of the paper?” Myra asked.

“No, I already read it from my tablet,” she said.

“Technology is changing the world,” Myra said with a smile.

Kendall grabbed a slice of toast and bacon and placed it on a plate. Finding a carafe of coffee on the table, she poured herself a cup.

“What did you think of our Cooper? He apologized to you, didn’t he?” Myra asked.

“Yes, he did. More than once. He seems nice enough.”

“You accepted his apology?”

“Of course I did.”

“I saw him looking at you yesterday in a way I’d given up on seeing from him,” she said.

“We might want to slow down a little with our wishful thinking,” Kendall said.

Her aunt laughed. “I know you don’t agree, and I can understand why, but—”

“I’m here for the summer, then it’s back to the city and back to being a professor,” Kendall said, interrupting her aunt.

“I know, but I’m going to show you our town in the meantime, and hopefully you’ll have a chance to get to know Cooper too. He’s actually one of the good ones,” Myra said.

Kendall gave her aunt a look, accompanied by a fake smile.

“You’re not going to be nice to him for a while, are you?”

Kendall gave her a sincere smile this time, filled with the promise of wicked retribution.

“Would you?” she asked.

“No, I guess not,” Myra said, smiling. “I like your spirit. Make him grovel. I’ve never seen that boy grovel, not even a little bit, so if you can get him to do that, then he’s your man.”

Kendall smiled, or maybe it was more of a smirk. “Nope. No. Nada, on the my-man part. Remember, I’m spending the summer here, and then it’s back to Austin.”

“If you say so.”

“What are your plans for the day?” Kendall asked, changing the subject before she bit into her slice of bacon.

“I have errands to run.”

“Can I tag along?”

“With me, an old lady running errands? Yes, I guess so. If you want. If you don’t mind, I would love the company.”

“What’s after errands?” Kendall asked.

“Bingo, then if I’m not too tired, I’ll stop in and check on Cooper at the Brewpub.”

“Do you do that every day?”

“Yes.”

“So you really do consider him as a son of sorts?”

“I do. He is the closest George and I ever came to having children of our own.”

“Okay,” she said, mulling that over. “Then what?”

“Well, some days I have an early dinner at the pub—Alex is a great chef—or if I feel like cooking, I’ll come home. I like to watch TV in the evenings, and I try to get in some communing time with the Lord before bedtime,” Myra said, chuckling at Kendall’s pained expression. “My life’s not as boring as it sounds. Cooper stops by most Wednesday evenings. We watch this one TV show together and catch up on the week’s events. We talk. He doesn’t have much time between the pub and the golf course, and the pub is not the most private place for talking about personal matters.

“I stop by the knitting place, but that’s not until Thursday evenings. We have a group that gets together at Sheryl’s shop. Sheryl’s the owner. You sure you want to hang around this old lady for the summer?”

“I do,” Kendall said, smiling. “You’re not that old, and I want to get to know you, remember. It’s the main reason I’m here.”

“Still wondering where all my money is getting off to?”

Kendall smiled. “If not Barnabus, then who?”

“You’ll see. By the end of the week, you’ll have an idea of where my money goes, and it will put your mind at ease.”

“I hope so. Then we can really enjoy our summer without that hanging over our heads,” Kendall said.

“I agree,” Myra said, smiling. “Did you have a good time yesterday at the picnic?”

“I did. There are a lot of nice people in this town. I’m surprised it’s so diverse. I did not expect that. When did it go from you’d-better-get-your-ass-out-of-here-if-you’re-different to this mixture of people? I think I even spotted a few gay couples.”

“Things can change. There is hope in our ability to change, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do. I’m still surprised, though,” Kendall said, realizing again that she was looking forward to getting acquainted with her aunt and checking out what other things small-town life had to offer.

K
endall pulled to a stop outside of a small home about five minutes from Myra’s, in a part of town that was a little more careworn than her aunt’s neighborhood. This home was brown, and the exterior paint was a little faded. The windows were trimmed in white wood, and a white, hip-height picket fence circled the property. The grass had been cut, except for the part growing under the wheels of an old truck that didn’t seem to be in working order. It looked like it had been parked there for a while. This was Kendall’s first stop in her where-is-the-money-honey research. She figured she might be able to suss out who was stealing from her aunt by coming with her on all the stops in her daily routine. Myra had refused to tell Kendall what exactly this first stop was all about.

Kendall followed her aunt up the front steps. Whatever her errand was, it was serious; her aunt held a clipboard in one hand and a satchel filled with papers in the other as she marched up to the front door wearing her business face.

Myra rang the doorbell. An older African American woman opened the door and nodded in greeting. She turned her head away from them and shouted over her shoulder into the room behind her. “Destiny.”

“Hello, Evelyn,” Myra said.

“Y’all come on in,” Evelyn said, opening the door wide for them to enter. She was dressed for home, Kendall guessed, wearing one of those old housedresses that older women sometimes liked, buttoned or snapped down the front. Evelyn’s was yellow, with two large pockets near her hips, one on each side, trimmed in blue. Closed-toe house shoes graced her feet. She wore her hair platted into two braids and pinned up on her head. She looked to be in her seventies, and she had four grandchildren to raise. Myra had told her that much on the drive over.
Yikes
, Kendall had thought.

“Have a seat,” she said, closing the door after Myra and Kendall walked inside. “Let me get some light in here,” she said, going to the front window, adjusting the blinds to allow the sun in. She moved slowly, favoring her right leg.

“I told Destiny to gather all those papers that college done mailed to her. She’s gonna bring ’em in here, just like you told us,” the older woman said.