by Nella Tyler
“In fact, I can recall a time when you were less than fully motivated to do your part, Tuck. So why don’t we clear this up and get into that strawberry cream cake your sister made? It won’t get any better sitting around waiting for us to eat it.”
Autumn took her cue and stood from the table as I let out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
“You’ve been great,” Tuck said, sounding almost resentful of that fact. “Guess I’m just tired—long old day today.”
“Bound to get to anyone, this heat,” I said, giving him the most polite smile I could. “No offense taken.”
But in spite of that—and in spite of the way things lightened afterward as Autumn served up the cake—I knew that Tuck had something of a beef with me. It wasn’t just some silly little argument about whether or not I was more dedicated than he was. There was something deeper going on underneath.
My mom always used to say that arguments are never about what they say they’re about. My argument with Tuck at his parents’ table was proof of that.
Chapter Fifteen
Autumn
Days after Cade had dinner with us, I still felt bad about the way Tuck had gone after him. Cade had defended himself just fine, and he’d stayed respectful the whole time, but it still annoyed me that Tuck had started anything at all.
My parents had raised us both better than that, and I wasn’t sure if he’d gone after Cade as hard as he had because he suspected that I had a thing for him or because of something else. Tuck had a real possessive streak about the farm and a real insecurity about his position in the world.
I’d finished all my chores around the house, and Mom had finished hers; with the guys taking on some of the building, painting, and repair work around the farm and the most relaxed part of the growing season on us, there wasn’t as much to do.
I tried to sit with Mom and watch something on TV—some cooking show she followed—but I felt fidgety. I wanted to do something, but I didn’t really have anything to do. Addie was napping in the guest room, and there weren’t any dishes or laundry to be done. We had more than enough food for leftovers, and it was Mom’s turn to cook, anyhow.
“You’re pretty antsy today,” Mom commented, looking at me during one of the commercials.
“I just feel kind of…” I shrugged. “Off, I guess.”
“You should get out then,” she suggested. “Go do something in town for a few hours, get yourself out of the rut.”
“Do you need me to get something at the store?” I would definitely have welcomed the distraction of grocery shopping or even going to the post office—anything that would occupy my time and my mind.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, go out and do something fun.”
I laughed. “I’m a single mom,” I pointed out. “I’m not allowed to go out and have fun.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said, shaking her head. “Your father and I used to go out once a month when you and Tuck were babies. We’d get Genie to come by the farm and watch the two of you. We’d go to dinner, maybe catch a movie or a play, and forget we were parents for a few hours.”
I sighed—that sounded heavenly. “Yeah, but you had Dad to go with you,” I pointed out. “It won’t be as much fun by myself. And besides, people will talk.”
“Since when have I raised you to care about what people say?” Mom grinned, even as she shook her head at me. “Addie is well taken care of here, and you could use the break.”
I smiled, but I was still feeling doubtful. “I don’t want to hang out all by myself,” I said. “That—if I like, go to a movie by myself or something, that’s just going to look pathetic.”
Mom held my gaze for a long moment. “Well, I have it on good authority that the boys aren’t up to very much this afternoon,” she said slowly. “You could invite Cade or Tuck to go with you.” I felt my cheeks burning.
“If I invite Cade, then Tuck will never let me hear the end of it, and you know it,” I pointed out.
“So invite both of ‘em,” she suggested. “And, make sure you do it in front of your father. Tuck will have to turn you down, after that rant he went on the other day about how responsible he has to be, and you and Cade can go see a show.”
I laughed out loud and then slapped my hand over my mouth, thinking I might have awakened Addie.
“You are too clever, Mom,” I told her. I shook my head, thinking to myself. If I was going to go to the movies with Cade—assuming that he even accepted my invitation—I wanted to look a little more put together than I already did.
Since I’d planned on hanging around the house all day, I’d stuck with just a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. But I didn’t want to go out onto the field looking as though I was going on a date. That would give Tuck all the ammunition he needed to suggest I was interested in Cade. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want to hear about it every day for the next month.
“Go get yourself changed into something a little nicer, and get out there and ask the boys if they want to go with you to see something at the movies,” Mom said firmly. “Your dad shouldn’t have any problem letting Cade go for the afternoon, and if that boy has the sense that God gave little green apples, he’ll jump at the chance to spend the afternoon with a pretty girl like you.”
I didn’t even correct mom that I wasn’t a girl—I was a grown woman. To her, I knew, I would always be a girl. I didn’t think she was even capable of seeing me as any older than a teenager.
I got off of the couch and walked back to the guesthouse I’d taken after Addie was born. I considered what I should wear; it wasn’t that simple a question, considering I wanted to look nice but not too nice, and signal Cade, but not Dad or Tuck.
I settled on a pair of nice slacks that I’d gotten a few weeks before and a blouse I wore to church sometimes in a soft, creamy peach color. I grabbed a sweater since the movie theater was always chilly and headed out to where I was pretty sure the guys would be.
I found them camped out in the shade, working on one of the pesticide spreaders. “Hey,” I said, smiling as casually as I could. Dad was working with one of the sprayers nearby, and I kept Mom’s strategy in mind. “I’ve been feeling restless and Mom suggested I go into town and catch a movie—either of you want to come with me?”
Tuck looked up from his sprayer hose and glanced quickly at Dad. “Sorry, Sis,” he said, shaking his head solemnly. “I should stick around and work this issue with the spreader out.”
“You going into town, sweetie?” Dad stepped out from between rows and looked me over. “A movie sounds just about right—you need a break from all the work you’ve been doing.” I smiled at him.
“I just don’t really feel like going alone,” I said, shrugging. “But if Cade and Tuck are both too busy…”
“It’s not that busy,” he said with a shrug. “Would you mind taking a half day, Cade? We’ve just about got this field sprayed, and there’s not much to do after that anyway.”
Cade shrugged, but I could see—for just an instant—that he was interested in going. “If you’d rather just head home, I’d understand,” I told him, trying my best to look neutral.
“I can’t make you go to the movies by yourself when I’m not even working,” he told me. “If you can give me a few minutes to wash up, I’d love to escort you.”
We walked back to the house, and Cade went in. I don’t know if Mom said anything, but a few minutes later, he was back out, looking just as gorgeous as ever. No one at the movie theater would even bat an eyelash at the sweat on his clothes or the little bit of dirt on his shoes. There were enough farmers who’d turn up in worse states as it was.
We had a brief argument about whose car we’d take—at first I argued that it would be easier for us to take my car, since I could bring us back to the house for him to get in his truck and drive home—but Cade pointed out that either way, we’d have to come back to the farm house and it was faster for him to just drop me off when we were throu
gh and then head home. I gave in, climbing into the passenger side of his truck tingling all over.
I was surprised to see that the interior of his truck was actually clean; there weren’t any wrappers or empty cartons or anything like that hanging around. But then, I’d noticed that Cade was basically a clean person: he washed up well whenever he had dinner with us and his house hadn’t been dirty when I’d visited him weeks before, just a little messy.
We talked about what movie we wanted to see on the drive into town, and I realized how little I knew about what was going on in the world around me.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a single movie in the theaters since I got pregnant with Addie,” I told Cade, shaking my head. It was impossible for me to believe it; before I’d gotten pregnant I’d managed to go at least once every two weeks.
“Well, in fairness to you, you’ve been pretty much occupied ever since,” he pointed out. “It’s good of your parents to encourage you to get out, take a break from things.”
I grinned. “Mom pointed out that when Tuck and I were kids, she’d have my Aunt Genie come over and stay with us while they went out at least once a month. So I think they’ve got a pretty healthy notion of what it should be like for parents.”
Cade nodded. I licked my lips and thought about a question that I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to know the answer to. “You ever think of having kids?” It flew out of me before I could even fully think about how to phrase it without sounding nosy.
“Someday, yeah,” he said, nodding. “I like to think I’d make a decent dad, and if I found a woman to settle down with, I’d want to have at least a couple of kids—and help raise ‘em.”
“How would you help?” I couldn’t suppress the amusement I felt at the idea; but then, I’d had Titan as the father of my child and he clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with Addie’s life.
“I’d play with them, help them with their homework,” Cade said with a shrug. “I’d make sure that I taught them what I know about discipline. Make sure that they were eating their dinner, those kinds of things.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling a tight, dry sensation in my throat. It sounded so wonderful. I swallowed and tried to keep my voice light as I spoke.
“I would sure hope you wouldn’t expect your wife to do all the cooking and cleaning all the time,” I said tartly.
“Your mom does what—ninety percent?” I shrugged.
“She likes it, though. That’s her arrangement with my dad. And, he helps.”
Cade nodded again. “I’ve seen that,” he admitted. “I guess if my wife wanted the occasional night off, without going out even, I’d do my part,” he said. “And, of course I’d expect to be in charge of all the outside cleaning: raking, painting the house, power-washing everything, all that stuff.”
I smiled, and felt my cheeks heating up. “You’re going to make some woman a real good husband someday,” I told him.
“I hope so,” Cade said, glancing at me. “Now it’s just a matter of finding ‘some woman’ who’ll put up with me working as hard as I do and deal with me being a stubborn ass.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re a good man. I think maybe your problem is that you’re looking too hard for a specific woman, instead of opening yourself up to the right one.”
Cade stopped at the light just before the movie theater and looked over at me. “You may be right about that,” he said. He smiled again, and I felt my heart skip in my chest. “I guess I’ll have to open myself up a bit.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cade
When we got to the theater, I still wasn’t sure whether or not Autumn was considering it a date. Nothing I tried to say during the car ride into town had given me any clues; and she was dressed the same way I’d seen her dressed more than once when she’d left the farm for something even more mundane than a trip to the movies.
I parked the truck and hurried out of the seat, closing the door behind me and walking quickly to the other side of the car to help her down. She took my hand in hers and I marveled at how soft her skin was, even though I knew she worked every bit as hard as I did, even if it was at slightly different tasks.
We walked up to the ticket window and I wanted—more than anything—to get hold of her hand again, to just hold it the rest of the day. But that wasn’t in the cards. I reminded myself that I’d made a promise, and that unless she made a real, concerted, obvious move on me, I wasn’t going to go back on it. “What did we decide we were going to see?” Autumn frowned as she tried to remember.
“I don’t think we actually decided,” she told me. “I think we got sidetracked.”
I considered that and nodded. “That sounds about right,” I agreed. “Well, we have the big list right here.” I pointed to the board at the back of the ticket booth, and we both studied it while we waited for the two people in front of us to make up their minds. We settled on a comedy—something light, that neither of us knew too much about but had heard, vaguely, was pretty good, and then came the first moment of truth: who would pay for the tickets?
“Why don’t we just each pay for our own?” Autumn held my gaze and smiled slightly. “We don’t want to hold anyone up behind us arguing about who’s going to buy.” I didn’t like the idea, but I accepted it, and we each bought one ticket for the next showing.
We stepped inside the building and the smell of popcorn was almost too much to bear. “Okay,” I told her, my fingers itching to touch her hand again, but staying right where they were. “I am buying us both popcorn. It doesn’t make sense to buy it separately.”
Autumn pressed her lips together and I knew she was debating it just as harshly as I had been. “Okay,” she said. “But just popcorn.”
“No drink?” I shook my head. “Total rookie mistake. You’re out of practice. Popcorn to share, a drink for each of us, and you pick one candy.”
“I said popcorn!” She slapped my upper arm and I saw a quick, admiring look on her face. “Nothing else.”
“You need a soda and candy, too,” I insisted. “The soda will keep you from choking when the half-popped kernels get stuck in your throat, and the candy cuts all that salt.”
Autumn pouted, but when we got to the cashier, she gave in. “Fine,” she said. “A coke and a pack of the nonpareils.”
“Excellent choice,” I told her. I ordered our snacks, and we headed to the theater where our movie was about to start.
I barely paid attention to the movie at all. It was a comedy that I’d figured we’d both like, and a few times I laughed mostly because I heard everyone else in the theater laughing, but I was too aware of Autumn sitting in the seat next to mine to really take in what the movie was even about beyond what I’d seen in trailers.
Every so often, her fingers brushed against mine in the popcorn bucket, I felt her shift next to me in the chair, or I caught the scent of her perfume or her shampoo or something. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the movie, my thoughts twisted right back around to her.
I wanted to actually hold her hand—I wanted to move in my seat so I could just barely feel her body against mine. But nothing that Autumn had done had indicated that she thought it was really a date between us.
I told myself I wasn’t falling in love with her. I just liked and respected her, admired her devotion to her daughter and the fact that she was brave enough to raise Addie without Titan. She was a perfectly wonderful woman…exactly the kind of woman a guy could fall for easily.
I managed to get out of my head towards the end of the movie a little bit, by force of will and nothing else. Autumn’s face lit up from the screen in front of us was beautiful, but I knew she’d want to talk about the movie once it was done, and I couldn’t tell her that I’d spent the whole movie thinking of her, watching her reactions, enjoying her presence. It would be too creepy.
I barely understood how it ended up on the screen because I didn’t really know what the plot had been other than that there was
some misunderstanding between the two main characters—same as just about every comedy that was ever written. We waited for the few people in the theater with us to walk out during the credits, and ate the last of the popcorn and drank the last of our sodas, and I was at a loss. I didn’t want it to end, but I couldn’t think of any way to justify keeping Autumn away from her home and her baby for longer.
“I just need to duck into the ladies’ room real quick,” she told me as we left the theater.
“Good idea,” I said, gesturing to the men’s room across the hallway. “I’ll meet you back out here in a minute.”
I used the facilities and checked myself in the mirror, I didn’t look half bad for a guy who’d been out in a field half the day before coming to the movies. I could have wished that I’d had a chance to change clothes before coming into town, but overall, I thought I wouldn’t shame my mother, being out in public the way I was.
I washed my hands and left the restroom, looking around for Autumn. I’d started to think of a way to prolong the date—but I’d have to be careful about it. I couldn’t make it too obvious or make it sound too much like a date.
I spotted her still drying her hands on some paper towels; she tossed them into the trash and looked up, meeting my gaze, and my heart beat faster in my chest almost instantly. “Hey,” she said, closing the distance between us.
“Do you have to go straight home from here?” I gestured to the theater around us. “I mean, I understand if you want to get back to Addie, but it seems like just the duration of one movie isn’t all that long of a break.”
Autumn smiled slowly and I saw the color rising up in her cheeks. “Mom said she’d take care of Addie for several hours,” she replied. “If you have something in mind, I’d be game. I do need to be back probably by dinner, but that’s still hours away.”
“We could go back to my place, grab a beer,” I suggested. “It’s not that far from here, and that’d be cheaper and easier than finding a bar serving right now.” She nodded.