by Mandie Tepe
“Jimi?” he answered in a sleep-graveled voice. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“I want kids,” Jimi said abruptly.
If he wasn’t fully awake yet, that did it. “Okay . . .” he commented uneasily.
“But I want to be married first,” she continued shakily.
“Umm . . . and you’re telling me this at four-thirty in the morning because . . .?”
“Because we never talked about it . . . and you’re leaving in a couple of hours to resign from your job and . . . I don’t know . . .” She paused and sucked in a breath. “What if you regret doing that if it turns out you don’t want the same things in life that I want? I mean . . . I know I’m not really the reason you’re changing jobs, but maybe I’m a tiny part of the reason.” He thought he heard the beginnings of tears in her voice. “I guess I’m jumping the gun because we just started out and it’s possible you’re not feeling that serious about me. It could be that you never will,” she trailed off. “Holy frig. I-I-I’m probably freaking you out, bu—”
Chance sat up and swung his feet to the floor in one smooth movement. “I’m coming over there.”
“No! No, don’t. It’s okay. You know what?” she asked on a hiccuppy sob. “This call never happened. It’s just a dream. You dreamed this—okay?”
“Peaches, stop,” he implored.
“I ju-just . . . I’m sorry I woke you, Chance. It was stupid. I panicked when I realized that there’s a lot we haven’t talked about.”
“That’s true.”
“And you’re changing your whole life around.”
“That’s true too. But, baby . . . even if you were calling to dump me right now I’d resign from Sparta and take CPD job anyway.”
“You would?”
“I’d advise you not to do that, though, because it would be really awkward for you bumping into me in the hallway all the time,” he teased. She didn’t comment on his lame joke, so he added in a tender voice, “It’s good to know you’re the marrying type and that you want kids. Just another thing that makes you interesting and gives me another reason to like you.”
Jimi sighed into the phone. “So you want those things?” She added quickly, “Not that I’m assuming you want those things with me. I just meant . . .”
He grinned in the darkness of his bedroom. “Well, if you wanted to make those assumptions I wouldn’t be mad, but it might be a little premature. To be clear, whether we’d gotten together or not, I’d be changing jobs anyway. It’s possible my decision came sooner than later because of you, however.”
“Okay,” she said in small voice.
“Now . . . can I come over there?”
“No. I’m too embarrassed.”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed.”
“I don’t know why realizing we haven’t discussed these things sent me into such a panic.”
“Well, we seem to be on the same page so it’s all good—right?”
“I am sorry I woke you. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep?” she suggested.
“My plane leaves in three hours. I should probably get up. My alarm is set to go off in about ten minutes anyway. But you should try.”
“I could make you breakfast.”
“I’m just going to pick up something on the way.”
“Sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?”
“Like I told you last evening, I’ll just leave my car in long-term parking. It’s only for a few days.”
“Well . . . if you’re sure,” she murmured.
“I’m sure. This last deployment is only two or three days in South America. Then I’ll be free and clear. When I called to give them a heads up about the resignation, they requested I take this last short-term job and I couldn’t say no.”
“I understand. Do you think they’ll try to entice you to stay at Sparta Corp while you’re in Houston?”
“They might, but I’m not enticeable.”
“Right. Just be really careful on the job,” she said.
“I always am. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay. ‘Bye, then,” she signed off.
Before she could disconnect he quickly responded, “Hey! Love you, baby.”
He heard her breath catch, but he disconnected before she could respond. He smiled as he tossed his phone to the nightstand and pushed to his feet. Chance hadn’t said those words since he was stupid enough to say them to a middle school girlfriend. He really meant it this time, though.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
A few hours later Jimi was standing in the Crosswinds’ entryway chatting with her downstairs neighbor—Marty Ricci. Marty had been returning from having coffee with some fellow retiree friends as Jimi headed out to work. The Ricci’s hadn’t been part of the almost-impromptu Halloween gathering the night before, due to volunteering at an event for the kids of their parish—St. Brigid’s. He was interested in hearing all about the trick-or-treater turnout.
The two of them had been chatting for awhile when Shad Tyler came stalking up the hallway toward where they stood. Jimi studied him. His head was down, shaggy hair in his face, shoulders hunched. As per usual, he stepped around them without acknowledging their existence.
Shifting her attention back to him, Jimi addressed Marty, “Well, I’d better get to work. Say hey to Leona for me.”
“Will do,” the older man grinned. “Have a good day.”
Jimi hurried out the door, biting her lip in nervousness. She didn’t want to do what she felt she had to, but she squared her shoulders and hurried after Shad anyway. She probably wouldn’t even try making amends if she hadn’t heard he had an alibi so he couldn’t have been the one to trash her apartment.
“Hey! Shad!” she called. “Can you hold up a minute?”
It appeared he wanted nothing to do with her, but he stopped walking down the sidewalk. It actually surprised her that he did that. She assumed he’d pretend to not hear her. He did not turn to face her, however, so she stepped around him and looked up into his face . . . or what she could see of it anyway.
“Good morning,” she greeted him with what she hoped was a pleasant tone.
He didn’t answer. Just jerked his shoulder to adjust the backpack slung over it.
“Listen, Shad,” she began. “I feel bad about what you overheard me saying at the church a few weeks ago. It’s not that I have a problem with you. I was just . . . well, I saw you and your friends out back smoking and I just wanted to . . .”
He filled in her words when she trailed off in uncertainty. “. . . warn her I wasn’t good enough for her,” he mumbled.
“No, that’s not it at all. It’s only that I think you’re into some things that aren’t things she would want to be exposed to.”
To her surprise he reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and stared intensely into hers. His eyes didn’t look angry, but they were beautiful. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them before, which was a shame. They were perfectly almond-shaped with long lush dark lashes . . . the irises a richer brown than hers. Those eyes were considering her very seriously.
Finally he spoke. “You never said anything to my parents about catching me out there smoking. Why is that?”
She shrugged. “Look . . . it’s not that I wouldn’t if it became a regular thing and I kept catching you doing it on the property. But everyone deserves more than one chance.”
“I deserve more than one chance with my parents but not with Bethany?” he challenged.
“I didn’t tell her about you and the weed. I was only trying to give her a heads up that you might be into things she isn’t.”
“You think I’d corrupt her.”
She bit her lip again as she debated how to explain. “I know you think I’m a goody-goody church secretary, Shad. My own family believes pretty much the same thing. But I grew up the daughter of a biker and his biker babe, so I was exposed to some pretty wild stuff at a young
age. I don’t really judge that much. But I know how kids think. I suspect you’ve been influenced by a certain group of kids and I can understand how that could happen with you. But, I think you really like Bethany and maybe she—or someone like her—could be good for you. I just wouldn’t want it to go the other way. Do you understand? Maybe it wouldn’t be good for her to hang out with some of your friends.” She sighed. “I don’t mean any offense by that. Am I messing this up, or do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“I think so,” he allowed. His eyes went even more intense. “I wouldn’t want to bring her around some of my friends either.” He dipped his head and she lost his amazing eyes behind his longish hair again.
“It’s just that sometimes the good girls can be bullied and chewed up by certain kids,” she added.
He nodded, but didn’t look at her or say anything.
“I really am sorry I hurt your feelings, Shad. I hope we’re okay.”
“Yeah, sure. We’re cool.”
Jimi watched as he walked to the end of the sidewalk, stepped off the curb and across the street in the direction of the school. She thought—not for the first time—about how much he reminded her of James Dean’s Jim Stark from Rebel Without a Cause.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
All the way to school, Shad mulled over what Jimi Alexander had said. He guessed he believed that she didn’t mean anything by what she’d told Bethany, but it still hurt. He probably wouldn’t be so quick to forgive her except for the fact that he felt guilty for vandalizing her place. He’d done what he’d done, but by bringing Fitz with him the damage had gone to a whole other level. Shad would have never taken it that far by destroying her art. Every time visions of the weaving room damage or those dead fish popped into his head he felt sick.
One thing was for sure. He would not want to expose Bethany to Jonny or Fitz or Pilar . . . or the rest of the crew, for that matter. Bethany was sweet and nice. He’d never been around anyone as positive and happy as she was—all the time. Even though it made him worry he was losing his grip on reality, he had secretly hoped that he might absorb Beth’s positive outlook just by being around her. Then he’d go home after spending time with her at that church to find his folks fighting over his mom’s drinking and his dad’s running around. He realized that Jimi was right about his crew chewing Bethany up. When Jimi had said that, it seemed like she might know about that from experience. She’d probably been the bullied sunshiny girl back in the day.
He cut across the lawn in front of the school building and skirted around the corner so he could enter by one of the side doors nearer his locker. Almost as soon as he set foot inside, Pilar stepped right in front of and crowded him. She was wearing her seductive expression. She wore that a lot when she and Shad were together without Jonny panting after her. Shad was worried she’d look at him like that where Jonny would see and that would not lead to good things.
She leaned in even closer. “Hey, Shad,” she purred.
“Pilar,” he answered coldly. He had never—nor would he ever—encourage her.
Her heavily-lined eyes blinked and her deep-red painted mouth pouted. She was always made up like she was on her way to a goth-fest. Even this early in the morning on a school day.
“What’s your problem?” she asked.
“It’s a Friday morning before school. What other kinda problem would I have?” He didn’t say his real problem was that her wannabe boyfriend was yanking his chain and he was over it.
“Right,” she agreed, her full blood-red lips twitching. She looked around to see if anyone was paying them any attention, but must have been satisfied because she fell into step beside him and informed him softly. “Jonny wants me to get that key from you.”
Crap, Shad thought to himself. He’d hoped for more time but, since he knew that Chance had left for Houston that morning (information he overheard his dad mention to his hung-over mom over coffee), he had no excuse to not comply. “Why does he want you to get it?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Shad wondered if this was part of Jonny covering his own butt in case things went south. He dug in his front jeans pocket, fished the key out and dropped it in her outstretched palm. “There. I’m out ‘til it’s over. I don’t wanna know when, where, how, or why until you return that key to me when it’s finished.”
Pilar stopped short in the middle of the crowded hallway and grabbed his arm, jerking him around to face her. “Jonny wants you in on it.”
“No way. This is as far as I’m in and it’s way too far, if you ask me. Just remember that I warned you all that this is a bad idea. Now, leave me out of the rest of it.”
“Jonny’s gonna be ticked,” she warned.
“Wanna know something? I don’t give a—”
Someone bumped him hard from behind. It was one of the bulked up jocks that all looked the same growling at him to get out of the way. Normally, he would have cursed the guy out . . . maybe gotten into a shoving match. But at that moment he was on board with the hulk’s suggestion so he took off for his locker leaving Pilar to stare after him with a perplexed look on her face.
She stood there while the crowd ebbed and flowed around her until Shad turned a corner and she couldn’t see him any more. She wasn’t used to being disregarded like that. Usually all she had to do was crook her finger and give a sly look at a guy and she’d get whatever reaction she was after. Now that she thought about it, she never had gotten that from Shad. It was probably why she found him so fascinating.
Jonny was a completely different story. If she flirted with him to get him to jump he’d ask how high and in what direction. Who was she kidding? She didn’t even have to manipulate Jonny for him to give her things and pamper her. But Jonny was no Shad.
Now it seemed Shad had gotten tired of being part of their crew. Then what would she do? He was one of the main reasons she hung out in Jonny’s little circle. Her brow creased in concern. If Shad left, they would bore her to tears.
The first bell rang, so she shoved the key—still warm from being in Shad’s pocket—into her messenger bag and took off for her first class of the day. It was too bad that Jonny was expecting her to hand it off to him at lunch or she might just take off and ditch school that day. Now she’d at least have to suck it up until then.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Jimi’s phone chimed just as she was beginning to do her dishes that evening. She smiled at the display when she saw Chance’s name light up. She connected and tapped the speaker button.
“Hey, honey,” she greeted him.
“Yo, peaches,” he answered. “What’s up?”
“Dishes. I’ve let them pile up a bit since yesterday morning. What’s up with you?”
“I’m done with meetings, paperwork and briefings . . . just got back to my hotel. I’ll be going to bed soon.”
“Already?”
“We’re going wheels up at 0:500, so I want to get plenty of rest.”
“Ooh. Military talk. That’s so hot,” she teased.
He chuckled. “I wanted to hear your voice before going incommunicado for a few days.”
“Yeah? Anything you want to talk about in particular?”
“Maybe. I’ve been wondering about how you feel about marriage,” he said nonchalantly.
Jimi dropped a heavy mug in the sink full of soapy water, splashing it all over the front of her sweatshirt. “Wh-what?!” she exclaimed.
She could hear him laughing. “Whoa. I’m not popping the question. Just in general . . . how do feel about it?”
“Umm . . .” she began uneasily. “I think we discussed it this morning, an—”
“This morning?” he asked innocently. “No. No, I don’t remember talking to you at all this morning.”
The light dawned as she realized he was indulging her earlier attempt to take the conversation back. “Oh. I guess I must h
ave dreamed that.”
“I guess you did,” he agreed, “but don’t dodge the question. We really need to talk about these issues. It’s important for a couple just starting out to make sure they’re on the same page.”
“Okay, Professor McLectureson. Geez. I’m pro-marriage. I hope to be married myself someday.”
“Interesting,” he commented.
“How about you?”
“Well . . . I never really thought I would ever get married, but I feel my outlook has changed. If I found the right woman, I think I’d most likely take the plunge after all.”
Jimi humored him. “That’s nice to hear and I hope you find her someday.”
“Thank you. I don’t know why, but I feel like it’s possible she might be closer than I think.”
Jimi’s breath caught, but she decided to play along with his lighthearted banter and mimicked his, “Interesting.”
He continued. “I don’t know if I’d be a good bet for her, though. I mean . . . marriage was modeled in my family by parents that have nine attempts between them.”
“That’s a lot,” she allowed, “but I have faith in you.”
“At least I’ll know what not to do. I hope.”
Jimi rolled her eyes. “My parents may still be together, but I’ve seen things in their marriage that I would never do.”
“Like what?”
“Like the over-the-top PDAing in front of the children.”
She thought she heard him mutter something along the lines of, “We’ll see about that.”
“What?” she asked. “Did you say something?”