“Is that what you think of me, too?” Joey wanted to know.
He stopped walking and took my arm gently, but I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Joey raised a finger to my chin and tipped my face toward his.
“It is what you think of me,” he said softly.
I masked a stab of guilt behind a defensive reply. “Are you going to put that in your newspaper article?”
He shook his head. “I’m not the guy you think I am, Tucker. And in spite of my family’s wealth—which my dad works hard for, by the way—I’m not the one making snap judgments about people based on where they come from.”
My face colored and I made a sweeping gesture. “So if you found out I came from a neighborhood like this one, you wouldn’t feel any different about me?”
“Why would I care?”
“Because my family wasn’t perfect. Because I worked hard to claw my way out of the life my parents gave me. And because Amber and her friends made it pretty clear in high school that I would never measure up, no matter how hard I tried.”
The smallest smile tipped up the corner of Joey’s mouth. “You do realize that even if Amber grew up in a cardboard box, she’d still be a snob, right?”
I refused to let it go. “I’m serious, Joey.”
“So am I,” he replied. “You’re assuming that money is what defines character. I guarantee you it’s not. You think that my family is perfect because we have money? Or that I haven’t spent countless hours trying to dig myself out from underneath the life they gave me? You can go ahead and conclude that because my upbringing was a privileged one, it was easy. But you’d be dead wrong. Life is defined by what we do with it, not by how we come into it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t. Joey was right. I had jumped to conclusions. And it didn’t matter that those conclusions were based on my own experiences. Everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I forgive you,” he replied a wink. “Now show me this place that seems to mean so much to you.”
I nodded and led him up the street.
The community center was a run-down building in the middle of a cement lot, framed by a skate park on one side and an empty pool on the other. There was only one car parked near it, and it was in as sorry a state as the rest of the site.
I was doing my best to pretend that bringing Joey to the community center was no big deal, but it was actually a huge one.
The community center where I’d spent so much time doing that was like the twin of the one at Junction Road. It had the same smells, atmosphere, and run-down appearance. And I felt like it was a part of me.
The part that I don’t really like anyone to see.
It wasn’t that I was terribly ashamed of where I came from. In fact, I was rather proud of what I had accomplished. But that didn’t mean I wanted to advertise it. Liandra was the only who knew my whole story. I couldn’t help but wonder if Joey could become someone else I could confide in.
I watched him from the corner of my eye. It was hard to read his face. If he was at all bothered by what he saw, he hid it well.
“C’mon,” I said.
He followed me up a set of stairs that had definitely seen better days. When we hit the top, the door opened and a distinguished man smiled at us before he hugged me. I squeezed him back.
“Bill, this is my friend, Joey,” I stated, and the man put out his hand for Joey to shake.
“Welcome,” he said. “I’m so glad you’ve come to help. I had the kids set up the tables in the gym, and the last of the flyers got handed out last night.”
“That’s great!” I replied enthusiastically.
I grabbed Joey’s hand and dragged him into an old gymnasium. Cloth-covered tables blocked out the heavily marked up floor, and the scent of burning sea grass overpowered the sweaty sock smell that usually permeated the room.
“Ta-da!” I said with a sweep of my hand.
“This is it?” he joked, and I gave him a playful shove.
“You don’t even know what you’re looking at.”
“I totally don’t.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is my life’s blood.”
“Your life’s blood is a stinky gym?”
“It was when I was teenager,” I replied nervously. “This one is nearly identical to the place that practically saved my life when I was a kid. And in thirty minutes these tables will be filled with people. Twenty couples paid for a meal, and a silent auction, and a chance to win a raffle for a TV.”
“And what do we have to do?”
I grinned and pulled a bow tie out of my purse. “Cater to their every whim.”
* * *
The evening passed quickly as we scooped out piles of spaghetti and homemade sauce onto the community center’s mismatched dishware.
Joey was uncharacteristically quiet. Like maybe he didn’t know quite what to make of the whole thing.
I almost laughed out loud at the fact that I was already assuming I knew him well enough to notice out-of-the-norm behavior.
Joey looked up, caught me watching him.
“Like what you see?” He smiled and winked.
“The prodigal son up to his elbows in dollar store pasta instead of up to his chin his heated pool? Yes, I like it.”
“Hey!” he protested. “I almost drowned in that pool.”
“You did not.”
“Did, too. Now either quit staring at me or take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
I groaned. “How old are you? Ten?”
“About that,” he agreed. “You’ve got some sauce on your chin, by the way.”
“You’ve got some on your top,” I countered with a nod toward the huge splotch on the shirt.
“Someone didn’t bring enough aprons,” he replied.
“I told you it wasn’t in the budget.”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed four plates, balancing them miraculously across his wide palms. He did a little bow without dropping any of them.
“Now that’s something I should photograph,” I said. “Maybe let the papers know about your talent.”
“My dad pays to keep me out of the press.” He sounded almost—but not quite—like he was joking.
“I wish I had someone like that on my side.” My comment was meant to be light-hearted, too, but Joey’s eyes darkened for a second.
“No, you don’t.”
We stared at each other, and I felt a little sliver of worry. Then Joey smiled his dimple-baring grin, and the worry went out of my head.
“Can you straighten my tie?” he asked.
“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing it,” I replied as I let myself be distracted by getting closer to him.
The red satin bow tie—which had once been a part of a Halloween costume—was fastened crookedly around his tanned neck. I reached up to adjust it. My fingers brushed his skin, and I saw goose bumps form in response. Joey’s Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed thickly.
“There.” I stepped back to admire my handiwork.
The tie was still lopsided and, paired with his designer T-shirt, still looked a ridiculous combination of silly and sexy. Joey’s incredible eyes met and held my gaze, and I didn’t move as he took small step toward me. He was so close, I could smell his understated cologne and see the curve where his dimple would be if he didn’t look so serious.
With the four plates still balance on his palms, he bent down swiftly, closed his lips over my chin and sucked.
“Hey,” I gasped as every pore on my body came alive in response to his mouth on my skin.
He stood up again and headed toward the door that led to the gymnasium.
“No more sauce on your face,” he called over his shoulder, and disappeared with the food.
“Friends!” I yelled halfheartedly to his retreating back.
Joey
“I’m totally worn out,” Tucker admitted to me as she grabbed the last dirty dish off one of t
he tables.
“You are?” I teased.
Truthfully, I very nearly couldn’t maintain the pace Tucker set for serving the dinner to the waiting guests, and I was rather disappointed in myself. I hadn’t waited tables since high school when my dad thought it would build character if I worked outside of the family business, and I’d forgotten how draining it was.
When everyone was finally fed, all of the silent auctions items had been spoken for, and the small flat screen had been carted off by one very happy retiree, I was glad it was over. Even if that meant washing dishes.
“At least you weren’t hit on by little old ladies all night,” I told her.
“What?”
I reached into my pockets, pulled out some crumpled bills, and shook them in Tucker’s direction.
“What’re those?” she asked.
“Tips, I think.”
Her eyes widened. “Who leaves a tip at a fundraiser?”
“Like I said. Little old ladies after a good time.”
“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time at college. You could make a fortune as waiter.”
“Or as a male escort,” I replied.
She tossed a wet cloth at my head, and I ducked out of the line of fire.
“Let’s see how you do as a dishwasher first,” she suggested. “Maybe you can escort me to the kitchen.”
“Now we’re talking,” I said as I followed behind her. “Seriously, though. What would you have done without me?”
“I want to say I would’ve been fine,” Tucker replied. “But it would be a lie, and I’m not in the habit of lying to my friends.”
“Wow. I’ve made the cut?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh come on! I just spent hours refilling glasses of sparkling water for you.”
“Not for me.” She shook her head. “For the community center.”
As we loaded the commercial-sized sink and began washing dishes in silence, I felt like there was something we were both avoiding bringing up. After my eloquent little speech about not being defined by our pasts, guilt had been hanging over me like a raincloud. I’d tried to cover it up with extra grins and innuendo, but it all felt hollow.
Did Tucker notice? I wondered.
She’d been genuinely apologetic and now she seemed genuinely pleased with me. That, coupled with the evident passion she had for not just the center itself, but its patrons as well, made me feel even worse.
“Hey,” she said, and gave me a playful hip check.
“Hey yourself.”
“You asleep on the job?”
I forced a smile. “Just thinking about what a great project this is.”
Tucker’s eyes glowed excitedly. “Isn’t it? And this is just a small part of it. You should see the place after school. It’s filled with kids. On Friday nights they have open mike night and local bands play. Oh, and a few weeks ago, a couple who actually met here in high school had their wedding reception in the gym.”
“A sweaty-gym-socks wedding?” I joked to cover up my guilt.
“Shut up. You really were great tonight, too.”
I raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that.”
“Do you ever stop?”
“Rarely.”
“I didn’t think so,” she replied. “And I also think we’re done in here.”
I leaned my elbow on the counter and scrutinized her face. She looked tired, but barely. There was an underlying energy in her eyes that I found attractive. A strand of hair slipped from one of her braids, and I pushed down an urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. My hands itched to touch her, and I breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she moved away to grab our coats.
“I’m going to have to ask you for another favor,” she told me as she handed me the jacket.
“Will it get me into your inner friendship circle?”
“It won’t hurt.”
“I need you to walk me to the bus station, up by the strip mall.”
“What’s wrong with taking the bus from here?”
“Too late. They don’t come this far at night.”
“A cab?”
“Too expensive. And don’t say you’ll pay. I’d rather you give twenty bucks to my cause.”
“I’ll gladly give you twenty bucks for your cause,” I told her.
“I don’t take money from friends.” She smiled.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin with mock thoughtfulness. “I think somewhere in that sentence is a trick.”
“Could be,” she agreed, then called out, “Bill! We’re heading home.”
The older man appeared at the kitchen door. “You kids need a ride home? I’ll be locking up in ten.”
Tucker thanked him but shook her head, and I was glad that she chose to walk with me instead.
“All right,” Bill agreed. “I’m glad the night was a success.”
I followed Tucker out into the cool night air, and let her lead the way down the street. After walking a block in silence, I grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull away, and I was so surprised, I stopped moving and looked down at her.
She smiled. “You scared?”
“Of what?”
“The neighborhood.”
“No,” I said. “Are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you letting me hold your hand?”
“I’m protecting you, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
She laughed and started walking again. I had no choice but to let go or be pulled along. I chose the latter.
“I grew up in an area exactly like this,” she told me.
“Did you?”
“Try not to sound so surprised.”
“I’m just interested in your life. And how you got from there to here.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” I asked.
“Not at all,” she admitted.
“Well, don’t hesitate to be honest,” I teased.
“You’d rather I lie?”
“Kind of.”
We walked for a few more blocks and then Tucker sighed.
“My mom named me after her mother,” she announced.
“What?”
“People always want to know why I’m a girl named Tucker,” she said. “My mom gave me her mother’s maiden name as a first name, and my other grandmother’s maiden name as my middle name.”
“What’s your middle name?” I asked.
“It’s George. I’m not just a girl named Tucker, I’m a girl named Tucker George.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Yes.”
I stopped walking again, confused. “I don’t get it.”
“You wanted me to lie to you,” she reminded me.
She released my hand and kept walking.
“Hey! That was all a lie?” I called.
“Most of it.” She kept moving.
I stared after her for several blank moments before realizing how far away she was getting. I jogged to catch up to her, and she turned to me with a self-satisfied smile.
“You’re a terrible person,” I told her. “What’s the real reason you’re named Tucker?”
For a minute, she didn’t answer. We were almost at the bus loop. I could see the lit bus shelters from where we were.
“My dad was drunk when I was born,” Tucker said softly. “He’d been out with his buddies when my mom went into labor, and when he finally came to the hospital, he really, honestly believed I was a boy, and he chose the name Tucker. My mom always told me it was fate…that I needed a strong name for the life I was going to lead.”
Her face was so sad and so serious that I didn’t know how to respond. She looked up at me earnestly, and I felt a need to protect her.
“Tell me another lie,” I suggested gently, and her face flooded with grateful relief.
“Okay. Joey, I had an absolutely terrible time tonight, and I never want to see you again.”
I grinned. “Likewise.”
We rode the bus back to the stop near her dorm in companionable silence, not speaking again until we paused outside the main doors of her building. She smiled at me with just a hint of awkwardness underneath.
“Thanks again for your help,” she said.
“Anytime.”
“Careful what you promise,” she warned with a smile. “I still have an awful lot of work to do.”
“Did you make enough money to help you with what you need to do? I can always wait tables again tomorrow.”
She laughed ruefully. “I’m getting close, but even once I’ve got it all…I’m worried it won’t be enough. Some rich guy—sorry, but it’s true—has come in and is trying buy the property out from under me.”
“That’s not very nice,” I said as lightly as I could manage.
She gave me a light punch on the shoulder. “Maybe you could talk him out of it. You seem to have a knack for negotiation.”
I swallowed against a sudden thickness in my throat. “Unfortunately, my charm only works on naive young women.”
It sure as hell won’t fly with my father.
We stopped walking, and it took me a second to realize that we were in front of Tucker’s dorm.
“Well?” she prodded.
“Well what?”
“Are you just going to stand there, staring at me for the rest of the night?”
I hesitated, guilt and hope fighting a battle in my heart. “I don’t know. Are you in inviting me in?”
She nodded once, and held the door open.
Tucker
I led Joey through the hall with a warning about being quiet, and didn’t breathe easily until I’d let him into my room and closed the door behind us.
“Home sweet home,” I said, knowing I sounded almost as nervous as I felt.
I had never told anyone the story of how I got my name before, and I felt a weird mix of embarrassment and relief. I was glad I had told him. I wanted him to understand where I came from, even if it meant sharing the more complicated parts of my background.
But I wasn’t sure how he’d taken it.
“What happened in here?” Joey asked with a chuckle as I turned on the light in my room.
My bed was made and my side of the room was tidy, but Liandra’s looked like it had been hit by a clothing tornado.
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