by Tessa Gray
She studied the beige, chambray shirt Adam wore, the way it hugged his chest tightly. As he stood cross-legged, she decided that the man was totally at ease at the Gathering. The L.L. Bean image of him had all but disappeared, and had she not known this man, she would have passed him off as one of the poets.
Adam looked up the instant she spotted him, and she decided that avoiding him would prove more awkward than acknowledging him.
She strode over to where he stood, trying to settle on an icebreaker, it would either be, “Enjoying the poetry, Adam?” or, “Wow, look at you dressed like an honest to goodness cowboy.”
“Hello, Meredith.” He managed to rumble out the greeting before she beat him to the punch.
“For a Boston guy, you pretty much look the cowboy part,” she said, staring into his dark eyes. For a millisecond, his mouth nearly tugged into a smile. But then, once again, he grew serious, just like he typically did whenever the two of them spoke. It occurred to her that whenever she was around, Adam ended up in a funk. Although, for all she knew, that might just be the way this guy was wired.
“I’m one of the designated staff members who introduces the poets to the audience just before they speak. Apparently, we’re supposed to dress for the part.” He started to look down after he’d spoken, but when she reached over, straightening the collar of his shirt, their eyes locked. Feeling flushed, she quickly looked away.
Adam uncrossed his legs and moved away from the tree. Plopping his cowboy hat back on his head, he moved closer. “You know, Mere, I’m not much for beating around the bush, so I’ll just come right out and say it.”
Here it comes. He’s going to ask about the phone call you made, about you’re telling him you didn’t want a physical relationship.
“I probably should get going . . .”
“Do you think there’s a snowball’s chance in hell the two of us could actually sit down and have a normal conversation? One that doesn’t revolve around whether or not I’m trying to talk you into sleeping with me?” This time when he looked over at her, there was a twinkle in those dark eyes. He widened his eyes, and offered the subtlest smile, waiting for her answer.
His bluntness stunned her, and she was at a loss for words. He had just put himself out there, and didn’t seem a bit embarrassed.
She decided right there, under the beautiful, cumulous-clouded afternoon sky that Adam Lightfoot preferred total honesty. As little as she knew about him, she suspected he detested pretentiousness. And that intrigued her.
She exhaled and realized the toll that trying to ignore this man had taken on her. As she searched for a reply, Meredith realized this was one of those rare occasions that Adam smiled. She studied his face, the tan complexion of a man bearing the last name of what was probably a long lineage of Native Americans. His dark hair hung loosely about his chin, glistening in the sunlight. But it was his eyes that drew her in, the way they danced when he smiled, reminding her of a campfire’s glow on a cold winter’s night.
“You’re staring at me, Meredith. What’s wrong?”
“The cowboy stuff—I don’t know—all of it. You seem, well. You seem different.” She shrugged and smiled back.
Initially she assumed the comment would embarrass him. To her surprise, it had the opposite effect. Adam gazed at her with intensity—his dark eyes penetrating her. He worked the muscles in his jaw and continued staring.
When she heard the large clock on the ad building chime, she checked her watch to compare the time. Time to get a move on. She was due at the diner at three.
“Guess maybe we won’t be having that normal conversation any time soon.” Adam’s face twisted into a frown as he spoke, and it was as though this moment had never taken place. Realizing she was the one who’d need to toss out the olive branch, she made the first move.
“I head to work in an hour, but if you’ll walk me to my car, I’d like to have that conversation right now.” After she made the comment, his eyes widened.
The look of relief on Adam’s face was comical. As much as this man tried to downplay his emotions, beneath that tough exterior lurked a man she suspected had more baggage than the underbelly of a Greyhound bus.
~ ~ ~
As Adam and Meredith walked silently to her car, he contemplated how to share his thoughts, surprised that she agreed to have what he termed that ‘snowball’s chance in hell’ conversation so quickly after he’d suggested it.
It wasn’t until they reached her white Lexus that Meredith finally spoke. Turning to face him, her expression was one of solemnness as she told him what he already knew. “We’re very different, Adam, you and me.”
He felt his mood shift as he considered she’d dragged him clear out to the parking lot to remind him once again how ill-suited the two were for one another. “I believe we’ve covered that, Meredith.”
He wanted to add, “Tell me something I don’t know,” but decided to behave himself. No use pelting her with sarcasm, which he was pretty damn good at.
As she continued staring up at him, her blue eyes drawing him in, he studied the fullness of her pout. She hung her head, swallowed several times, then glanced up once more. There was a look of determination on her face he’d never seen before.
“Things have been awkward between us, Adam, and that’s been my doing. I’ve handled myself poorly at times, and even been rude to you, in fact. Like the time I pretended I didn’t see you at the train station.”
As much as he wanted to bail her out, to assure her it was okay, he didn’t. And in all honesty, it really wasn’t okay. But in spite of how frustrated he was with Meredith, he found himself moving closer to her. Before he realized it, he’d placed his hands squarely on her shoulders.
That seemed to unnerve her, and within seconds, the words came tumbling out. “That time I called . . . I guess I did it more for myself really. When I kept telling you I didn’t want a physical relationship, I wasn’t being totally honest.”
When he squeezed her shoulders, she sighed, her eyes widening. As he looked at her, he struggled as to what he should do. What he really wanted to do was take her in his arms, back her up against the car and kiss the hell out of her. But going from zero to ten in a couple of seconds probably wasn’t the best way to handle this.
“You’re not one to mince words, are you, Meredith? I find that refreshing.”
After he made the remark, she looked as though she was about to say something. But she turned away from him, as though she might have already said too much.
Eager to lighten things up, he gave it his best shot. “And they say women aren’t attracted to cowboys.”
The comment drew a laugh from her, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“How about you drop by around eight, so we can finish this conversation?” Adam arched his eyebrows and Meredith laughed again. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Okay. I really need to get going. I’ll see you in a while then.” She gazed up at him, a playful expression on her face. Had he been great at reading people, he’d have guessed she wouldn’t be opposed to him kissing her. But since body language wasn’t exactly his forte, he made the decision not to do something stupid.
Once again, he tried to keep things light. “Roy Rogers or the Absent-Minded Professor?”
“What?” She stared over at him, a puzzled expression on her face.
“What’s your pleasure, Ma’am?” He pulled off his hat and dipped his head. “You prefer the Western duds or something more in line with a college professor? A tweed jacket and pipe, perhaps?”
He realized his nervousness was showing because the comment was beyond corny. He wanted to take it back, but couldn’t.
“Surprise me, Adam. I love surprises.” Meredith moved closer and leaned into him, splaying her fingers across his chest. “I’ll see you later, then.”
/> “Most definitely.” He backed away from her car as she climbed in and then started up the engine, wondering what had prompted Meredith Chapman’s change of heart.
As he headed back toward the campus, he felt a swagger in his step that hadn’t been there before.
Chapter 11
Meredith massaged the back of her neck, exhausted from the four hours she’d just spent waitressing. Normally, the afternoon shift at the diner wasn’t terribly busy, but when two coach buses filled with passengers had pulled up at five o’clock that evening, she knew full well the remainder of her shift would prove grueling, which it had.
As eager as she was to see Adam again, fatigue had already begun setting in, zapping her of any energy she had left.
She’d extended that dinner invitation to Adam while somewhat refreshed, but after putting in a hectic four-hour shift waiting on customers, her energy level had waned. Thank god she didn’t have to cook but had opted, instead, to order takeout. There was a real upside to working at Penny’s Diner.
Carly had phoned her three times at work, changing her food order, and Meredith decided that as kids went, her two were definitely spoiled.
As Meredith stared up into the evening sky, she wanted nothing more than to drag herself home, take a long, hot shower, and get a good night’s sleep. But she’d promised Adam, and she couldn’t very well cancel.
She sauntered over to the car, wondering why she couldn’t just let go of the notion that she and Adam might begin a relationship. They were an unlikely match, that, she was certain of.
And yet, she felt drawn to him, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. Although most wouldn’t take notice, there was a certain charm about this man. She suspected it was that dry sense of humor of his, not that he demonstrated it all that often, but when he did well, he was actually pretty funny. His Roy Rogers/Absent-Minded Professor comment amused her. For a guy so well-respected at the University, Adam sometimes didn’t appear to take himself all that seriously.
Pulling open the car door, she set the takeout order on the passenger seat. She’d ordered Adam a corned beef on rye. Stephanie had mentioned that was Adam’s favorite, with the exception of his usual lunchtime special, a burger and salad.
Pausing for a few seconds, she glanced back at the doorway leading inside the diner. The soft lights cast a warm glow on the silver colored building, and she thought once again of how closely it resembled the diners she’d eaten at in New Jersey when visiting her grandparents. Maybe that was why she felt more at home in this small town than she ever imagined possible.
She slipped the key into the ignition, then breathed a sigh of relief when the Lexus started. She pulled out of the parking lot, wondering how her talk with Adam would go.
As weary as she felt, she decided to focus on the positive. Maybe after taking a long, hot shower, she’d feel better. And, of course, the apartment would be clean. Carly and Travis had promised to pick up after themselves. She prayed they’d carried out her wishes because if she returned home and faced a sea of clutter, heaven help anyone within a ten-mile radius. When it came to the children, her patience was wearing thin.
~ ~ ~
“Travis, get your butt in gear. Mom’s on her way home.” Carly grabbed the stack of magazines piled on the sofa and jammed them underneath several cushions. “She’s going to kill us if we don’t get a move on.”
As Travis scrambled toward the kitchen, Carly followed him to make sure she wasn’t the only one cleaning up the mess they’d made. Mom would kill them both because they’d spent all afternoon on the computer playing video games. Carly closed her eyes briefly, feeling another headache coming on. The algebra test was tomorrow and she hadn’t even started the study packet.
“Can’t we just hide the dishes?” Travis grabbed several dishes from the sink and began opening cupboard doors, trying to find a place to put them.
“No, Travis. Listen, you go pick up the living room. Just toss stuff in the closet or something. I’ll get the dishes loaded into the dishwasher. I can do that faster than you can.” When her brother nodded obediently, Carly realized that at least the two of them had a game plan. Maybe this wouldn’t take as long as she thought.
But the longer Carly spent straightening up the place, the more frustrated she became. Every single time she’d phoned her mom that afternoon, she’d received a lecture on cleaning the house so that it looked nice when Adam Lightfoot came over. It was stupid, all this fuss about him. He wasn’t really a bad guy, a little dorky maybe, but so were most teachers as far as she was concerned.
Her mom had actually gotten a little weird too during the past month or so. She’d begun dressing differently. The bling-bling jeans Mom always wore were gone, replaced by plain, simple ones. She’d purchased the last pair at a garage sale, of all places. And she was starting to wear her hair different too. Adam Lightfoot seemed to be having an influence on her mom.
Of course, they’d be returning to Dallas when Mom finished school. Carly’s dad had promised that once her mom got her degree, the three of them would head back home so Mom could find a teaching job. As Carly thought about the last phone conversation she and her dad had, she was pretty sure he wanted to get back together with her mom.
She liked Mr. Lightfoot, but she secretly hoped her parents would get back together and be like a regular family again.
Something suddenly occurred to her, something she could do to make sure the college professor saw Mom at her worst.
Carly stared out the window briefly, noticing darkness had begun setting in. Pulling the dishwasher open, she collected the dirty dishes she’d piled in there and slowly placed them back in the sink. She scattered a few more things about the counter, making sure it looked cluttered. It was almost more work to mess up than to just clean it.
“Travis, get in here.”
Her brother came barreling into the kitchen, and she decided to draw him into her plan. “Mom just called. Mr. Lightfoot isn’t coming over after all. We can stop cleaning.” Carly grimaced after she said it, realizing that during the past year, lying had become pretty much a normal thing for her. But this time felt different. This time she realized the effect this would have on her mother. Still, they needed to move back to Dallas so they could be with Dad and be a family again.
A few minutes later she heard a car pull up and peered outside again. Two vehicles were parked in the drive, and she decided one of them probably belonged to Mr. Lightfoot. It looked as though he was carrying the takeout order. Panic gripped Carly as she considered how upset her mother would be about how messy the apartment was.
When she listened to the sound of her mom’s laugh, a laugh she hadn’t heard in a while, Carly felt even worse. The door opened, and her mother stepped in first, Mr. Lightfoot just behind her.
“I brought us all something from the diner. You and the kids should go ahead and eat, Adam. I’ll just freshen up a bit. It won’t take me long.” Her mother’s jaw dropped as she glanced over at Carly. She stopped in her tracks and was surveying the mess Carly had left.
The look on her face was indescribable, kind of like the time Carly had gotten kicked out of school. The luster in her mother’s eyes had vanished, and when she chewed on her lower lip, Carly knew she’d hurt her mother deeply.
“How could you do this, Carly?” Suddenly her mom stopped talking and brushed away several tears. “I asked you to do one thing, to clean up after yourself and you couldn’t do it?”
“Mom, I—” Carly began.
Her mother ignored her and turned to face Adam. “Maybe we’d better do this another time.”
Adam Lightfoot glanced over at Carly, an angry expression on his face.
She felt compelled to do something, anything to get the focus off herself. “Yeah, maybe it would be better, Mom. I didn’t think you were coming home so soon.”
When Adam clenched his jaw and stared over at Carly, she wished she’d done what her mom had asked her to do.
As Carly watched Mr. Lightfoot place the takeout order down on a counter, he continued to train his eyes on her, while speaking to her mother. “Meredith, you go take care of whatever you need to. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you’re exhausted. Carly and I will have this mess cleaned up in no time. Won’t we, Carly?”
Unable to answer him, Carly just nodded.
~ ~ ~
Adam began loading the plates into the dishwasher. He almost wished Carly would leave the room because he was afraid of what he might say. Meredith had been deeply hurt by her daughter’s unwillingness to help with chores, and that wasn’t sitting well with him.
“I’ll go help Travis pick up in the other room.” Carly got as far as the door when he decided to put this kid in her place. Someone had to.
“You know, it’s pretty transparent what you’re trying to do here, Carly. There’s an old saying, ‘I didn’t arrive here in a turnip truck.’” He paused after he said it, pleased he hadn’t let his anger dictate what he said. Because what he really wanted to say was, ‘You think I have shit for brains? I get what you’re trying to do here, Carly.’
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her tone was flat, as though she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
He decided to let things fester for a second, let the girl think about what she’d done.
As she hung her head, he noticed the dark roots. The notion that a kid dyed her hair at this age seemed ludicrous. According to Meredith, they were barely scraping by. So, if that was the case, why the hell was she paying for her daughter to color her hair?