Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  But he wasn't ready to say good-bye.

  "Maybe it's not on display. Maybe they're cataloging it, whatever that means," Elizabeth said.

  "Let's wait and see what they say," Tommy said.

  While they waited, Granny told them a story about a trip to find someone's fern patch and they ran out of gas. All these ladies up in the mountains, having a great time, unconcerned about how they would get home. "Be camping there still if someone hadn't come found us," she said. "And happy to do it."

  Tommy sat next to Elizabeth and she reached over to hold his hand. They were people who held hands now.

  Time slowed until he could barely keep his eyes open. He couldn't imagine how the museum staff stayed awake inside there all day.

  "Did you call Linda?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I intend to," Tommy said.

  She gave him a smile that promised many things. "When?"

  "As soon as we know what's going on. Should I ask again?"

  "I don't know," Elizabeth said. "Now that we've come this far I want Granny to see that dress. But does it matter?"

  At last the museum guard returned. "Dr. Murray isn't here today. She's expected in tomorrow if you would like to return then."

  Tommy squeezed Elizabeth's hand. One more day.

  Granny made an unhappy sighing sound.

  "I'll bring the car around," Tommy told them.

  On his way out the door, he finally called Linda and was relieved when the call went straight to voicemail.

  "Sorry. It's me. You wanted me to take care of your family, so I am. That sounds like a bad excuse. Your car is fine. We're on a mission. One more day. I will have it back to you tomorrow night. Promise. I'll call again."

  15

  Arnie pushed the door of his house open and peeked inside. The television was on.

  "Hey, kids," he said.

  The three teenagers on the couch looked up.

  "This is my friend, Linda." He introduced each kid and family connection. In the back of his mind, all he could think about was how weird it was to have Linda in his house. When they'd first met, he'd always wanted to bring her to his home place and show her around. Now she was here and he felt strangely unsure of himself.

  All three kids jumped up. They gave Linda a careful once-over. "Bye, Uncle Arnie," one of them called as they left.

  "Welcome to my tiny house." He used the remote to turn off the TV and opened the curtains to bring in the daylight. The kids had left a bag of chips and some open cans of soda on the coffee table.

  Arnie picked up the sodas, still half full, and took them to the sink.

  "You trust them by themselves?" Linda took her time looking around the room. She paused to scan his bookshelf.

  Arnie laughed. "They're family."

  "Do you know how teen parents are made? You don't think about them bringing their boyfriends and girlfriends and calling this the make-out house?"

  After a pause, Arnie said, "Now I do. I hope you're okay with meat and bread for lunch because that's what we're having."

  "I'm starving. Anything is fine. Bathroom?"

  Arnie pointed down the hall. As soon as she closed the door, he worried whether it was clean enough. He opened the fridge and pulled out the leftover meatloaf and gravy and set it to reheat.

  Linda returned and didn't have a look of horror, so it must have been okay. She walked around the main room studying the old photos and heirlooms on the walls. Arnie opened a bag of dinner rolls and threw a few in foil and put them in the oven. He pulled the butter out of the refrigerator.

  "How long have you lived here?" she asked.

  "When I got home from college there was an ancient mobile home on this lot. I lived in that for a year and, after freezing my ass off all winter, convinced the family to help build this. I know it's small. I always figured if my situation changed, I could knock out a wall and build on." By situation change, he meant starting a family. He'd had a version of this conversation with Katie, at her instigation. That woman loved to seize on a project. She’d sketched out some ideas for rearranging the place—knock down that wall and put a master bed and bath on this side—like it was an undertaking for them together. They were not on the same page in the relationship, that was for sure.

  Linda nodded. "Sounds about right. The house Granny lives in started out as a two-room cabin. They did two additions but not like they examined what they had to make a plan. They would add something on and then cut a door in the wall. It's a funny old house. I haven't been there in ages."

  "Coffee?" he asked, surprised by a flare of nerves like he'd brought home a date and wasn't confident how to proceed.

  "I can make coffee," Linda said.

  Arnie pulled a filter out of a drawer, intending to toss it on the counter, but it fell to the floor. He grabbed another one. "Coffee beans in the freezer. Grinder on the counter. This is the extent of my hosting. If there's something you want, help yourself."

  Everything he said sounded like it had two meanings.

  Linda prepared the coffee with ease, more at home in his kitchen than he was at the moment.

  She said, "Those photos, the historical ones. All family?"

  "I come from a long line of leaders," he said.

  "I've heard all about your family." She gave him a patient smile.

  "Right," he said. He put plates and utensils on the counter. "Coffee cups are in that cupboard."

  They each prepared a plate and carried it to the table.

  "Not bad for sad bachelor food," Arnie said.

  "Since when are you a sad bachelor?" Linda said, her lips turning up into a bemused smile.

  Arnie didn't know why he’d said that. The joke fell flat. "I meant I eat like one."

  There was the sound of tires in the driveway, and a familiar truck flashed by the window.

  Terrific.

  "That's my mom. The kids must have mentioned your name. I should have known she would want to meet you."

  A strange look passed over Linda's face. "How does she know who I am?"

  There was a knock on the door.

  "You can come in, Mom," Arnie yelled.

  Diane Jackson, professional busybody, charged into the room while dragging a bulky plastic bag. She had short hair that she dyed dark brown to hide the gray, and eyes that missed nothing. His entire life he couldn't get away with anything. He'd throw a rock at a car on one side of the rez and thirty seconds after he arrived home, Mom would know and punish him for it.

  "Grandma replaced her comforter, but the old one was practically new. I thought you might—" She feigned surprise at seeing someone there as she gave Linda a careful look. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

  "Nothing that can't be interrupted by Grandma's blanket," Arnie said.

  "It's a comforter," she said.

  "Mom, this is my colleague, Linda. She's meeting with some folks after the budget and planning meeting."

  "Why aren't you there?"

  "Because I'm here." He got up and took the bag with the feeble-excuse-for-a-visit comforter and threw it in the guest room. "Thanks. Linda is borrowing the green car because…well, it's a long story. Linda, this is my mom, Diane."

  "Nice to finally meet you," Linda said, wiping her mouth and standing up.

  "The kids said you had someone here and I wanted to see what was going on," Diane said, her cover story already forgotten. "What about—?"

  "She didn't come with me this weekend," Arnie said, not wanting to explain everything in front of Linda.

  "Is everything—?"

  "Mom, do you remember when I was young and complained about your nose in all of my business? You said when I grew up and paid my own bills then you would leave me alone. Remember that?"

  Mom made a production of thinking it over. "Not really." She turned her attention back to Linda. "And you're lending her the green car? I thought you were friends."

  "It's not that bad. She only needs it for one day." To Linda, he said, "You won't have any problem w
ith it, promise. I'll be back in town next week if there is any trouble."

  Arnie hoped this wouldn't be weird, but his hopes were quickly dashed. His mom pulled out a chair to sit with them. "I remember stories about Linda when you two were in college. I can't believe we never met before. I thought he'd bring you here eventually, but it never happened."

  "If I had a chance to go home, I wanted mine," Linda said, clearly enjoying this bizarre interruption.

  "Will you be staying for dinner?" His mom eyed their plates, no doubt preparing a lecture for later about how poorly he fed his guests.

  "I can't today. I've been busy with company, and I need to get back home so I can get organized around the house," Linda said with complete seriousness.

  Arnie stifled a laugh. Linda was a competent mastermind in many fields, but organization was not one of them.

  "We'll try to change your mind. I know others in the family would love to meet you."

  Arnie urged her to leave using the power of his glare. "Thanks, Mom. We have to work now."

  She ignored him. "How late will the meeting go? You'll need dinner if it's late."

  "Hard to say," Arnie said. He got up from the table and took his empty plate to the sink.

  "You're welcome if you change your mind," Mom said.

  Linda turned into the woman who knew how to bend people to her will as politely as possible. "I appreciate your generous offer," she said. "Another time, for sure."

  "I will hold you to that," Mom said, with no doubt that she meant it. She gave Arnie a knowing look as she left.

  Linda continued eating while failing to pretend she wasn't amused. When the truck was gone, she said, "Relax, Arnie, I know how moms are, and I can see where you get your stubborn streak."

  "You have no idea," Arnie said. "If the discussion goes too late you can stay here." He didn't know why he said it or even thought it. The words had popped out, pure hospitality, and now the idea of Linda spending the night made his mouth go dry. He hoped it didn't come to that.

  "I wouldn't want to trouble you," she said.

  "It wouldn't be trouble," Arnie said, not wanting her to dismiss the terrible idea so easily. "We're colleagues. There's a guest room. It has a lock, clean sheets. Grandma's comforter." Why would she need a lock on a guest room door? Also, the sheets were probably dirty.

  "It's not that far to drive," Linda said. There was a long pause before she added, "I think it would be awkward."

  "What if Ester needed a place to stay? Would that be awkward?" Why was he still talking about this? Of course she would want to go back, she had her own thing going with ol' whatshisname.

  Linda took her plate and coffee cup to the kitchen and put them in the sink. "I guess not, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to get home, so we don't have to worry about it."

  16

  They went through the business of finding a motel. Tommy thought Elizabeth was exaggerating, but Granny wasn't happy until they’d found the reassuringly named Sleep-Right Motel tucked between the freeway and a major thoroughfare. The bright red neon sign was missing the last "L," so they kept joking about their mote room.

  They took her to a nearby diner where she skipped the patty melt in favor of an unappetizing looking open-faced turkey sandwich swimming in gravy and ate every French fry on her plate. Tommy and Elizabeth exchanged amused looks while they picked at their dinners.

  "You want some of my fries?" Elizabeth asked, making it sound like she was offering something else. They sat across from each other in the booth. She had her feet on his.

  "Sure," he said, "you want some of mine?"

  Elizabeth leaned forward and took one.

  He liked to think Granny was oblivious to the tension, but she'd been around long enough that she was probably enjoying being the obstacle. She took forever to finish her meal because she kept telling them stories about traveling with Leo. Like the time he got a speeding ticket trying to keep up with a freight train on tracks parallel to the highway. Another time he slid into a ditch to avoid hitting a cow in the middle of the road.

  Tommy might have enjoyed the stories more if Elizabeth hadn't been caressing his shins with her toes, a simple gesture that made it nearly impossible to form complete thoughts.

  At last, they took her to the motel and made sure she was settled. Tommy sat on the second bed, pretending to look at his phone, but really he was waiting to see what Elizabeth would do. After the dinner entertainment, there was no way they were going straight to bed.

  "We're going out for a little while. Is that okay, Granny?"

  "Set up my TV and be gone with you," Granny said. She wore a baggy T-shirt that said, Elders Do It With A Trick Hip and black stretchy pants.

  Tommy set up her program and put the remote on the bed.

  When he got out to the car, Elizabeth sat in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, staring intently at the imaginary road ahead. She hit the turn signal and looked over her shoulder.

  "Did you want to drive?" he asked.

  "Playing around." She turned the signal off and faced forward again.

  "I can take you driving."

  "I'll think about it."

  "I would be right next to you," Tommy said.

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  Elizabeth crawled over the center console, her dress riding up so that he got a peek of lacy white panties. She took her time pulling the skirt back down.

  He'd already forgotten what they were talking about.

  "Let's get a six pack and go somewhere," Elizabeth said.

  A six-pack.

  She'd given the perfect opening to explain. He could have water. There was no reason to make a big deal about it. Except right at that moment, he didn't want to have a drinking problem. He wanted to drink a beer with a beautiful girl and pretend it was a date and not worry about Angie or his car or anything else.

  "Maybe not tonight," Tommy said, doing his best to sound as if this was a great idea for another time.

  "Probably right," Elizabeth said. She nudged his arm aside and popped opened the storage compartment of the center armrest and picked through it. "Tissues, sunglasses, coupons, gas rewards. Ah-ha." She pulled out a curled blister pack and held it up. "Gum. Want a piece?"

  "I'm good," he said. She popped a piece from the wrapper and put it in her mouth. She waved it at him again.

  Back in the day, he'd gone through buckets of gum, trying to hide his alcohol breath. Gum or sometimes coffee.

  His breath.

  Her eyes sparked with lust. She licked her bottom lip. The pangs of desire that had been building all day collected into a blaze of heat.

  "I'll take some."

  Elizabeth took her time pushing a piece out of the wrapper and slipping it into his mouth, her fingers grazing his lips. His brain sputtered at the contact. He could barely get his jaw to work on the gum.

  "You have nice hands." She took one hand and turned it over in a business-like manner. The small gesture sent a spasm through him. She drew on his palm with her finger.

  "I get that a lot," Tommy said, the mint blast and the shift between them clearing his head.

  Elizabeth hung on to him as if considering whether to keep him in her pocket. "No, it's not. What are you known for?"

  The only things that came to mind were uncomplimentary. Things you wouldn't say to a woman that you wanted to regard you with something other than pity or annoyance. "I'm not known for anything. What about you?"

  "Granny. If I show up anywhere around the rez, that's the first thing people ask, 'Where's Auntie?' It could be midnight around a bonfire on the beach. Don't get me wrong, I love her like crazy. I'm taking care of her until she's gone."

  She laced her fingers with his and squeezed. She had the look of a woman on a mission. She shifted in her seat, filling his senses with her. The minty scent of her gum and sweet girl smell, her eyes making clear she knew something that he didn't. She rustled around until she found what she was looking for. He couldn't see in th
e dim blue light. She wrapped the gum up and crammed it in the stuffed ashtray. Every move was deliberate. She knew he waited for what would happen next.

  In a low voice, she said, "Would you want to get in the trunk?"

  "What?" The warm fuzz of anticipation hiccupped.

  She covered her mouth while she laughed. "The back seat. I meant the back seat." She grabbed his arm. "Get in the back seat with me." Warm again. Not a shy request. She knew he wanted it too.

  "Here? In the parking lot of low-rent motel? They have surveillance cameras. They don't want people to get it on in their parking lot."

  Elizabeth broke eye contact long enough to glance around the parking lot as if she needed to remember where they were. "Are we getting it on?"

  "Or discuss the Dawes Act and the right-up-to-the-current-day impact it has on tribal communities. Or whatever you had in mind."

  Elizabeth gave him a funny look.

  "You hang out with Linda, the stuff rubs off on you," he explained.

  "I approve. We're almost on the same page. Let's go," she said.

  "What about?—" He pointed his chin at the motel door.

  "She's an adult. She's probably happy I'm off with you rather than one of those miscreants. She likes that word, miscreants. It sounds hilarious when she says it. She also likes to call people bums or rotten cabbages."

  "I'm honored Granny likes me more than a rotten cabbage." Tommy started the car, ideas reeling through his head. They could try a parking lot but a business would have cameras. "Ideas?"

  "Are there any woods around here?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Woods? Don't you watch horror movies? It's like we're begging to be murdered."

  "Where I come from, everything is woods," Elizabeth said. "I haven't been murdered yet. How about a park?" She took out her phone and he followed the directions she gave him. The first park was small, only a brightly lit playground with a few benches and a half court.

  "That won't work," she said as he drove past.

  Back when he drank, there had been many nights like this. Him and who knows who else, driving around looking for parties, or people they knew who had money, or people like themselves, hammered and seeking kindred spirits, people who would be easy to talk to.