Gun Shy

by Lori L. Lake

  “Good thing.” Luella picked up a rib and held it gingerly in her fingers. “Now Dez, honey, you never told me Jaylynn was a track star.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Now how would I know to ask?”

  Dez shrugged.

  “You didn’t know, did you?” Luella asked.

  Dez glanced over at Jaylynn who was coloring nicely. “I know she’s a fast runner.”

  Luella said, “She went to the U on a track scholarship. How come you never found out about that?” She didn’t ask accusingly but seemed to be trying hard to understand how Dez could have overlooked something so important. When Dez didn’t answer, she said, “Brag on yourself a little bit, Jaylynn. Tell Miss Oblivious here what you’ve done—you must have a few records, hmmm?”

  Jaylynn set her fork down on her plate, her face flaming. “I went to nationals three times, and placed in the top six each time, but I never was able to win, place, or show.”

  Dez asked, “What event?”

  “Four-hundred meters, two-hundred meters, sixteen-hundred meter relay.”

  “You went to nationals for all three?”

  Jaylynn nodded solemnly.

  “That’s good. What’d you have to do to get there—place in the top three in the state or what?”

  “First.”

  “Are you saying you’re the best sprinter from Washington state?”

  Jay chortled. “Not anymore, but I guess you could say I was back in my salad days. And I was never that great a sprinter—more middle distances.”

  Dez nodded and scooped up a cornbread muffin, absently splitting it open and eating half. Jaylynn watched Luella’s face light up in a smile, but Dez didn’t notice.

  Dez said, “I used to run the four-hundred meters—I always called it the puke race.”

  “I know what you mean. When you’re done, that’s exactly what you feel like doing.”

  “I never could break sixty seconds—hit it right on a couple times, but never got below.”

  Jaylynn grinned. “That’s why I got to anchor the relay. Every once in a while I nailed a fifty-five or fifty-six.”

  “Did you ever do any other events?”

  “Oh, some hurdles, some long jump, occasionally a little high jump, but those were never my specialties. Mostly I just ran my butt off. How ’bout you? You do any other events?”

  Dez nodded. “Javelin, shot put, discus. They wouldn’t let women do pole vault, but I liked it.”

  Jaylynn leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. “I bet you were good, too. You’ve got some records yourself, don’t you? Come on, ’fess up.”

  Dez set her fork down, pushed her plate away, and sat back in her seat. “Just in high school. Well, I guess I had the conference javelin record in college, too, but I never went to nationals or anything. I might have done better my junior or senior year, but I quit.”

  “You quit the team?”

  “No, I quit college. I put in two and a half years, got bored with it, and applied to be a cop. As soon as I turned twenty-one, I joined the force. So I never got my degree.”

  Luella said, “I keep telling her to go back and pick up some night classes, but she says she’s not interested.”

  “What were you majoring in?” Jaylynn asked.

  Dez gave her a crooked smile. “Little of this, little of that. Mostly law enforcement related, sports, a few music classes. What’s your degree in?”

  “I loved college. I took light loads during spring track season, but the rest of the year I loaded up and did quantity, not so much quality, so it’s not like I was an A student or anything. I’ve got majors in political science, psychology, and English.”

  “Busy girl, weren’t you?” Luella asked.

  “I figured if they were paying, I might as well get all I could out of it. Of course it took me an extra year to finish, and cost my parents more, but it was worth it, I think.”

  Luella stood and cleared a couple serving plates. “You girls ready for some pie?” Before Dez could make a comment, Luella said, “I know, I know. You pass, right?” When Dez nodded, Luella said, “Fine, but no whining when Jaylynn and I sit here enjoying two pieces of succulent and tasty apple pie with melted butter and cinnamon sugar on top.”

  Dez looked at her in mock astonishment. “Who me? Whine? No whining from this quarter.”

  When Luella ambled into the kitchen, Jaylynn leveled her gaze at Dez. “So, you took music classes?” When her question was answered with a nod, she went on, “What kind of classes?”

  “Mostly guitar and music theory.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Some voice, too.”

  “So you can sing! That’s great.”

  Dez bristled. “I never said that.”

  “If you can sing at all, you’re doing better than me. Sara has a beautiful voice, and she plays piano. Wish I could play an instrument.” She picked up her fork and shoveled up the last chunk of potatoes on her plate. “I guess I can carry a tune, but singing has never been my forte. Must be fun to be able to play and sing.” She swallowed the au gratins and set the fork back down.

  Luella entered the dining room carrying two rosebud plates loaded with generous pieces of steaming apple pie. “Dez, you should go up and get your guitar. Come down and play us that piece you wrote for my seventieth birthday.”

  Dez’s face flushed scarlet. “Oh, no.”

  Luella lowered herself slowly in her chair. “Quit with the shy thing. I’m sure Jaylynn would enjoy it. Go. Get your guitar.”

  Dez stood, pushing the chair back with her heel. “I’m not singing.”

  Luella halted a big bite on its way to her mouth. “Fine. Then play me that nice melodic piece you’ve been working on.”

  As she stalked out of the room Dez tossed back, “That’s not even finished.”

  “We don’t care, girl. Just come back and entertain us.” After she left, Luella said, “You ever notice she’s about as bull-headed as they come?”

  Jaylynn smiled, her hazel eyes sparkling. “No doubt about it.” They talked some more and ate the pie. “Luella, what work did you do before you retired?”

  “Thirty-nine years at the telephone company. Worked my way up from operator to shift supervisor to head of customer service.”

  “So you had to deal with all the cranky people mad about their phone service.”

  “Uh huh. I didn’t mind it at all. But I finally retired about five years ago, and that’s been fine, too.”

  Jaylynn popped another bite into her mouth and smiled. “This is wonderful pie! I don’t think I’ve ever had better. The crust is so flaky.”

  “I learned to make it from my momma. She was an accomplished baker.” She spiked the last apple and popped it in her mouth. “I love pie, but who can eat a whole one? I’m so glad to have guests every so often so I can cook up things I never get to make for myself.”

  “Thank you for this great dinner, Luella.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. Hmmm. Where’s that ornery cuss got herself to? She should be back by now.” She got up and snagged the milk glasses.

  Jaylynn rose. “Let me help you with these dishes.” They worked together and cleared everything away. Luella transferred the food to plastic containers while Jaylynn rinsed and stacked dishes.

  Luella said, “I want to leave a lot of this to soak, so don’t worry too much.” She put her hands on her hips. “What’s keeping that girl so long?”

  Right on cue, Dez came down the hall toting her acoustic guitar. She stood uncertainly in the hallway looking into the kitchen. “I’ll go play in the living room and you two can listen from in here.”

  “Ah ah ah,” Luella said. “Not so fast.” She dried off her hands on her apron, slipped it off, and hung it on the door hook. “C’mon, Jay. Let’s go relax in the other room.”

  They all trooped into the living room. Jaylynn sat in a wooden rocker. Luella lowered herself into a wing chair, and Dez perched on the edge of the couch.
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  “What do you want to hear?” Dez asked in a resigned tone.

  Jaylynn decided to let her two companions duke this one out. She smiled agreeably and settled into a steady rocking rhythm.

  Luella said, “Play that one tune I always like so much—you know, the one where you twang the notes.”

  “Bend? You mean bend the notes?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Okay, give me a second. I have to go to an open tuning.” She quickly adjusted the tuning pegs and Jaylynn listened to the guitar make a wow-wow-wow sound as Dez changed the tone of three of the strings. She put her ear down close to the guitar, strummed it a few times, made one more minor adjustment, and closed her eyes. She picked out a melody with the fingers of her right hand while simultaneously moving her left hand over the strings on the neck of the guitar. Her fingers bent and hammered the strings at the neck in a way that Jaylynn had never heard. What emerged was a melancholy combination of notes reverberating and ringing in such a way that it sounded like two or more guitars playing complementary fugues. The song traveled through three different movements but kept coming back to the same theme.

  Dez plucked the last notes and let them ring out and fade away. Only then did she open her eyes shyly. “That the one you wanted?”

  “Actually, it’s not the one I was thinking of, but that surely was beautiful. Makes my heart feel full.”

  Jaylynn sat thinking silently. Wow! She, too, felt her heart was full; in fact, she felt she could start crying. The piece was mournful, almost a lament. It brought to mind memories of her father, of being a little girl trying to understand why he’d died and left her. On the verge of tears, she shook herself and rocked in the chair more with vigor. “That was remarkable, Dez. I liked it. What’s it called?”

  Dez frowned. “Don’t have a name for it yet.”

  “I know,” Luella hollered, “play that honky-tonk thing I like.”

  Dez nodded knowingly. “I know exactly which one you’re referring to now.” She took a minute to re-tune the strings, then stood up and dug in her pants pocket to remove a black guitar pick. Closing her eyes, she started strumming a rollicking, slapping beat that soon had both women tapping their toes.

  Jaylynn listened and thought about the contradictory sides she’d seen of Dez. Head bashing, rough-and-tumble versus sensitive guitar player. Suspicious and untrusting versus intensely loyal. College dropout versus canny, streetwise strategist. Moody and grouchy versus gentle and obedient toward Luella. She studied her as she played guitar. Her eyes were closed tightly, the tip of her tongue peeking out between the straight white teeth. One foot tapped out the beat, and when Jaylynn closed her own eyes and listened very closely, she could faintly hear Dez humming the melody as her fingers flew over the strings.

  Jaylynn opened her eyes and looked at Luella who was slapping her knee, grinning widely, tipping her head from side to side in time with the music. She let out an occasional, “Oh, yeah! Play it, girl!” which made Jaylynn laugh.

  She glanced back at Dez only to find her staring intently at her. Eyes met and she felt the connection, the same exact gut reaction she experienced the very first time she’d seen Dez in action. It made her dizzy and short of breath. She blinked to shake off the lightheadedness and Dez abruptly ended the honky-tonk tune and stood.

  “Enough fun for one night.”

  “One more,” Luella said. “C’mon, sweetie. Just one more, okay? Play my anthem, why don’t you?”

  Dez exhaled. She paused a moment and sat down again. “Okay, but you have to sing it.” She played a little intro and nodded, and Luella began singing in a true but quavery voice:

  Lift every voice and sing

  ‘Til earth and heaven ring,

  Ring with the harmonies of Liberty . . .

  Jaylynn rocked contentedly to the even beat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she enjoyed the song she had heard a few times before.

  Let our rejoicing rise,

  high as the listening skies,

  let it resound loud as the rolling sea . . .

  Luella slid into the chorus and, unexpectedly, a second voice joined hers, a smoky contralto singing the alto line.

  Sing a song, full of the faith that the dark past has taught us.

  Sing a song, full of the hope that the present has brought us.

  Facing the rising sun of our new day begun.

  Let us march on till victory is won.

  Jaylynn peeked one eye open and through thick lashes watched Luella and Dez sing the next verses of the old spiritual in two-part harmony. Amazement wasn’t even the word for her reaction. The word flabbergasted came to mind. She was totally flabbergasted—and filled with an intense longing so strong that her heart hurt. A lump rose in her throat and she fought back tears. In a way she envied the two women. They seemed so close. She longed to have met each of them much sooner, understanding now that a gap in her life existed about which she’d never even been aware.

  The song came to an end, and no one said a word as the notes from the guitar tapered off and faded out. Dez looked her way sheepishly, and to cut her apprehension, Jaylynn said, “You two could take that on the road!”

  Luella smiled. “That’s always been one of my most favorite songs. My father sang it to me when I was a tiny little girl. Usually brings a tear to my eye. Desiree, my dear, thank you for singing it with me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Dez rose, holding the golden guitar by its neck. “I’ll be back after I take this upstairs.” She sped out of the room.

  “Wow,” Jaylynn said, “she’s got some kind of voice, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, she does, and she doesn’t share it with just anyone. I’m surprised she joined in, but I’m glad she did.”

  “Me, too. I can’t get over it. Wow!”

  The rest of the evening flew by as Luella continued to pry information out of the two of them. Jaylynn looked at her watch. It was past ten o’clock, so she rose to say her goodbyes. She made her way out to the porch, took down her coat, and fished in the sleeves for her thermal mittens.

  Luella stood in the doorway holding a large foil-wrapped package. “You be careful driving out there. Looks to me like it’s snowing.”

  Dez stepped out on the enclosed porch and peered through the window. “It’s only snow flying around off the roof. The street’s clear.” She leaned against the frame of the porch window as Jaylynn slipped on her coat.

  Luella grabbed Jaylynn before she could zip up her huge coat. She snaked her arms inside the coat and around Jaylynn’s waist to give her a big hug. “God bless you, Jaylynn. You’re a special girl.”

  “Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Luella. What a great evening.”

  “Let’s do this again soon.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  Luella handed her the foil-wrapped surprise. “I know you’ll enjoy this later. It’s extra good for breakfast.” Jaylynn slipped the package in a roomy coat pocket, and Luella took the big mittens out of her hands so she could zip up her coat. “These look nice and warm.”

  “It’s like wearing boxing gloves—makes it hard to drive—but I hate it when I get cold.” She pulled her hood up. “Good night, Dez. Good night, Luella.” Dez opened the front door and Jaylynn brushed by, smacking her lightly in the midsection as she passed. “See you Wednesday at work.”

  “Will do,” Dez said in a quiet voice as she shut the door.

  All the way home, Jaylynn’s mind raced. She thought Luella was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. And Dez was—well, Dez was Dez. She had her own grouchy charm. Jaylynn pondered the attraction, for she could not avoid admitting it. She was attracted to—totally smitten with—Officer Dez Reilly. But she didn’t understand why. Something like a magnetic force drew her to Dez, and she felt helpless in its pull. She had a sense of déjà vu, too, that was so strong she couldn’t believe they hadn’t grown up together or known each other at some time in their lives. But growing up on the West Coast preclu
ded them from ever having met. Maybe she had seen her walking around Como Lake, but if so, she thought she’d have a clearer picture of her. She definitely would remember that physique! So then she wondered about dreams. How could her Hero so closely resemble the taciturn cop? She wished she had more control over her dreams because if she did, she would actually like to question her Hero. She would ask, “Who are you, and did I make you up when I was little? Or are you real?”

  When she arrived back at the house, she parked Tim’s Toyota and hustled through the frigid night air into the warm kitchen. She took her coat off, hung it over the back of one of the chairs at the table, and was leaving the kitchen when she remembered the treat and reached into her coat pocket to remove Luella’s foil-wrapped package. Before even unwrapping it, she could smell what it was. Apple pie laced with cinnamon and sugar. She smiled and took it up to her room with a fork and a glass of milk.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jaylynn thought the old saying about March roaring in like a lion and going out like a lamb was true. She had thought January and February were cold, but today, the first of March, was colder than she could bear. The temperature, which was actually only in the middle thirties, wasn’t the problem. It was the stop-and-go rain and sleet and the nonstop wind blowing down the collar of her coat and into every warm fold of her body. She felt that all she’d done the entire evening was shiver, even with the heater cranked up. She checked her watch: 11:10. With a little luck, they’d make it through the last fifty minutes and head back to the station so she could go home to a nice warm bed and maybe some hot cocoa.

  The dispatcher came over the radio reporting a car accident and, upon hearing the location, Dez hit the lights and siren. She whirled onto a side street and reversed course. They traveled only a mile to the crash site and arrived quickly. Jaylynn emerged from the car into a foggy, misty night where the cold bit through her clothes and made her shiver. The two-lane road, on a rise, was wet and slick from all the day’s rain. A gravel shoulder on either side sloped down into wide fields where an occasional stubble of cornstalk poked up from wet ground. Even through the water, Jaylynn took note of the skid marks on the pavement, which dug into the gravel and into the short cropped grass as the hill gave way to the field.