Picket Fence Pursuit

by Jennifer Johnson

  “I’m sorry, Ryan.” Kylie pushed her salad away. “That was so unkind of me. And not my business at all. I have a big project due and a test coming. Brad called last night wanting to have another ‘getting acquainted’ dinner. I—I think I’m just stressed. Could you take me home?”

  Brad Dickson. Just the mention of his name sent a wave of revulsion through Ryan. He remembered the way Brad had looked at Kylie as if she were dessert after the main course. The man had been condescending and rude, but Ryan hadn’t missed that Brad also viewed Kylie as a physical beauty. Ryan also recalled Kylie’s kindness toward the snake. “Sure, I’ll take you home.”

  Ryan drove back to her apartment. He watched as she went inside, waved hesitantly at him, then shut the door. He couldn’t fault her for believing he depended on Gramps. In her eyes, he worked at Holiday World. Soon he’d be unemployed.

  His heart stung at the thought of her feeling he took advantage of others, but he had to put his pride to the side, had to wait until she loved him for the man he was and no other reason. His ego had to step aside and wait.

  He turned the ignition as thoughts of Vanessa and Brad whirled inside his mind. Maybe it is about my pride—only in a different way.

  ❧

  I’m such a jerk. Kylie flung herself onto her bed. I can’t believe I said those awful things.

  A tear slid down her cheek. How can I be so attracted to him? She cuddled her pillow. This is worse than falling for a man who works in the coal mines. Ryan doesn’t even have a real job.

  She allowed the spilling of tears. She needed a pity party. Ryan Watkins made no sense. Her love for him didn’t either. She sat up. “I can’t love him.”

  Her perfect job destination, her graduation route flooded her mind. She didn’t want to take a fall-in-love-with-Ryan-Watkins detour. She’d end up worse than her twenty-one-year-old sister, Amanda, who was married to a coal miner and pregnant with twins.

  A vision of herself barefoot and pregnant, kissing Ryan—clad in his Holiday World uniform—filled her mind. Gramps sat on the front porch holding a red-haired toddler while another child played at his feet.

  God, that is not the detour You want me to take. I don’t believe it. I won’t.

  Twelve

  Ryan held up the blond-haired fashion doll adorned in a pink princess dress. Dana will love this. He picked up the dark-haired male doll that wore a tuxedo and laid both in his cart. On Ryan’s birthday his favorite present was to buy for his godchildren.

  Moving down the aisle, he took in the massive assortment of dolls. Little Heidi will want a baby. He selected a box that advertised a doll that could eat and soil its diaper. Yuck. He laid it back down. Another boasted its doll could do flips. Ryan shook his head. I want to get her something soft. He moved down and found a baby that looked real, even had downy skin. Perfect. He placed it in the cart beside the fashion dolls. One more stop.

  He strolled to electronics and chose a handheld car racing game. I’m set. Getting into the checkout line, he knew he had two more stops. One to a favorite local restaurant, and one to the mall. He paid for the toys, headed into parking lot, then loaded the car. He yanked out his cell phone and dialed Kylie’s number.

  “Hello.” Her voice sounded light, happy.

  “Hey, Ki.”

  “Um, hi.” It changed to quiet, unsure. Ryan didn’t know if that meant she didn’t want to talk to him or if she still felt bad for what she’d said.

  “Today’s September twenty-first.”

  “You’re right.”

  “It’s my birthday.”

  “Happy birthday.” Her sincerity sounded in the inflection of her voice. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re six years older than me.”

  “I’m older than a lot of people think.”

  “I just thought—I mean. . .”

  Ryan wanted to groan. His age made her think him even more of a loser. “I was wondering,” he interrupted before she said something they’d both regret, “if you would go out to dinner with me to celebrate.”

  “You really want me to?”

  “Yep. Can you be ready in about three hours?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, see you then.” He snapped his phone shut, drove to the restaurant, and picked up a gift certificate for Neal and Melissa. Afterward, he made his way to the mall in Evansville. He finished at the service center then walked past a glass shop. From the window, he spotted a single, long-stemmed, yellow rose. He thought of Kylie.

  What would she think if I bought her a small gift? The desire to buy her the rose grew. It’s my birthday. She can’t say a thing.

  He smiled as he lifted it off the shelf and took it to the clerk. The college-aged woman rang up the price. “This is my favorite piece,” she said as she wrapped it in tissue.

  “It is?”

  “Yeah. Yellow roses are my favorite. They mean peace and friendship.”

  “They do?”

  The lady laughed. “I think so. I get the colors and their meanings all confused sometimes, but I’m almost positive I’m right.”

  Ryan laughed out loud. “We’ll just say you are.”

  She put the wrapped rose in a bag and handed it to him. “I hope she likes it.”

  Ryan lifted his eyebrows. “I never said that this was for a woman.”

  “What man buys a rose for himself? At the very least it’s for your mom.”

  Ryan laughed out loud again. “Not my mom, and I hope she likes it, too.”

  ❧

  “Kylie, this is Neal and Melissa Nelson.”

  Kylie offered her hand in greeting at Ryan’s introduction. She skimmed the room, laden with aged furnishings. Three children sat on the floor beside an enormous, panting mutt.

  Ryan leaned over and petted the dog’s head. “This is Mutt.”

  Kylie didn’t squelch her giggle in time.

  Melissa shook her head. “The kids couldn’t agree on a name, so we didn’t give him one. Now he’s just Mutt.”

  “It fits him well.” Kylie bent down and petted the dog’s head.

  “Me.” The youngest girl pointed to her chest.

  Ryan grinned and tickled her chin. “This is Heidi. How old are you, Heidi?” She held up three fingers.

  “You’re a big girl,” Kylie chimed in.

  “I’m Dana.” The older girl stood, grabbed the hem of her skirt, and twirled it back and forth. “I’m five, and I’m in kindergarten.”

  “Hello, Dana.” Kylie turned toward the older boy. “And you are?”

  “Evan.” The preteen’s cheeks turned scarlet as he grabbed her hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Kylie smiled then quietly clasped her hands in front of her. She had no idea why Ryan had brought her here. He said they were going to dinner for his birthday—not that she minded meeting this family. They were nice, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

  “You’re pretty.” Dana grabbed a wisp of her hair and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Thank you.”

  “Today is Neal and Melissa’s thirteenth wedding anniversary.”

  “Lucky thirteen,” Neal bellowed in an exasperated tone, then wrapped his arm around Melissa’s shoulder.

  “You’re lucky I’m with you.” Melissa poked him in the ribs.

  “Yes, I am.” Neal kissed her forehead.

  Kylie smiled at their banter. Their love for one another was evident. She nudged Dana. “Are they always like this?”

  Dana pursed her lips and shook her head. “Always.”

  They laughed at the seriousness in Dana’s tone. Ryan smacked his thighs, then knelt eye-to-eye with Dana. “I have a surprise for you guys.”

  “Yea!” Dana jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Heidi watched and then mimicked her sister.

  “Yes.” Evan made a fist, pumping his elbow next to his side.

  “I’ll be right back.
Kylie’s going to help me.”

  Kylie followed him to the car. He popped the trunk, and she gasped at the gifts filling it. “All of those are for them?”

  “Yep. It’s the best birthday gift I could get.”

  Kylie studied Ryan as he placed several presents in her hands then filled his own. Her parents were generous. They’d give the shirts off their backs to help someone in need. She’d never met anyone as giving as they were. Until Ryan.

  Speechless, she followed him inside and helped distribute the presents. She watched in awe as the children squealed over their toys and as tears filled Melissa’s eyes when she opened the restaurant and mall gift certificates.

  “When do you want me to come get the kids so you can go?”

  Kylie’s mouth dropped open. Ryan actually watched the children when they went for their date that he’d paid for. He’s perfect. He’s sickeningly perfect, and he doesn’t work. Her gaze skimmed the room. Who paid for these things?

  “Kylie, will you come, too?” Dana peered up at her with doe-like eyes.

  “Uh. . .” She gazed at the urchin. She couldn’t say no. “If Ryan is okay with it.”

  “You know I am.” He smiled and grabbed her elbow. “Kylie and I better go. We’re heading to dinner. How ’bout two weeks from Saturday?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Melissa wrapped Ryan up in a hug, then embraced Kylie as well.

  They said good-bye and walked back to his car. Unable to speak, Kylie stared out the windshield as Ryan drove to the restaurant. Once there, he grabbed a small, white bag from the backseat. Another surprise, I’m sure. Kylie opened her door before Ryan could do it for her.

  Once settled into the booth, Ryan asked, “What did you think about the Nelsons?”

  “They’re a lovely family.”

  “Melissa and I lived on the same street when I moved in with Gramps. She’s a good five years older than me. Growing up, I always had a crush on her.” He chuckled. “I’d follow her around, and she’d fuss and push me away.”

  “And you’re still pining for her,” Kylie teased.

  Ryan threw back his head and laughed. “Not exactly. Oh, don’t get me wrong, when they married on my sixteenth birthday, I felt as if she’d done it on purpose just to spite me.”

  “They seem to be very much in love.”

  “They are. I’m the children’s godfather.”

  “That’s really neat.”

  Kylie bit her lip when the waitress brought their pops. She felt comfortable with Ryan, yet weird at the same time. Physical, emotional, and spiritual attraction for him churned within her. Logic sent her mind into a tailspin.

  “Ki, I have something for you.”

  “Ryan, it’s your birthday and all you’ve done is buy for everyone else.”

  “I don’t need anything, and this is more fun.” He fumbled with the bag. “I hope you like it.”

  “You shouldn’t have bought me anything. I was so mean the last time I saw you.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “You’re too nice.”

  “Probably why I’ve never married. You know what they say—girls don’t like the nice guys.” He shoved the bag closer to her. “Please take it.”

  “Smart girls do like nice guys, and they marry them, too.” Embarrassment filled her when the statement slipped from her lips then smacked Kylie in the face. Was integrity worth more than stability? What was wrong with wanting both? Kylie dismissed the questions and lifted the tissue-wrapped object from the bag. Gingerly, she pulled off the paper and gazed at a yellow glass rose. “It’s beautiful.”

  “The clerk said it meant peace and friendship, but she wasn’t sure.”

  Kylie noted the nervousness etched in his voice.

  “Friends?” She gazed into his eyes, searching them for honesty.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of peace.”

  He wanted more than friendship. The truth of it was written all over his face. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Ryan, are you a drug dealer?”

  His eyes bulged and he frowned. “No.”

  “Did you win the lottery?”

  “Never played in my life.”

  “Is your grandfather some wealthy landowner or businessman or something?”

  He scrunched up his nose. “He’s a retired military man. What are you getting at?”

  “Where do you get your money? You buy presents for entire families. You take me out to eat and never let me pay. I don’t understand.”

  She trailed the rose with her fingertips. “I worked all summer to pay for my gas and utilities and whatnot. I’m living off scholarships and loans, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what you’re living off of.”

  Ryan took her hand. “Okay, the truth is—”

  “Kylie, well, imagine seeing you here.” Brad Dickson rubbed the top of her arm in a possessive, overly familiar manner. Kylie recoiled as Brad turned his attention to Ryan. “I forgot your name.”

  “Ryan Watkins.” Ryan extended his hand to Brad, who acted as if he didn’t notice and looked back at Kylie.

  She swallowed, willing ugly, spiteful words away from her lips. She wanted to be a witness to the baboon. Oh, God, help me see him as You do. Someone who needs You. “Hello, Brad. Are you here with a date?”

  “No. Business dinner.” He touched her shoulder again, and Kylie shifted in her seat to make his hand fall. He looked at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. “Something I’m sure we’ll have to do. . .often.”

  Ryan leaned across the table. “Well, Brad.” His voice, laced with protection, sounded thick and strong. “We’ll let you get back to your business.”

  Kylie gazed at Ryan. He’d always shown her nothing but respect. Even now he would allow nothing less from someone else. She looked back up at Brad. “Yes. I’ll see you later.”

  Brad huffed and walked away without another word. Kylie smiled at Ryan. She couldn’t deny it. She was falling for him, even without a job. “You were telling me that you weren’t a drug dealer or a lottery winner or a—”

  A shadow fell across Ryan’s eyes. He shook his head. “I was just going to say God always provides.”

  “Yes, He does, but that still doesn’t tell me how you bought all these things. Did someone give you money for your birthday?”

  “Please, just believe me when I tell you I’m not a criminal. My life is surrendered to God and His work.”

  Kylie peered into Ryan’s eyes. She knew he spoke the truth, but it still didn’t make sense. And in her thinking, things had to make sense.

  ❧

  “I was going to tell her, God. It was right on the tip of my tongue when Brad Dickson interrupted us.” Ryan walked in his front door and slammed it shut. “The way he looked at Kylie. God, how can she even speak to him? He’s a snake.”

  “What?” Gramps walked into the room. “You saw a snake?”

  “Sure did,” Ryan growled under his breath then looked up at his grandfather. “No. There’re no snakes out there.”

  “Good.” Gramps shuddered. “I hate them slithering creatures.”

  Ryan laughed when Brad’s face came to mind. “I’m not too fond of them, either.”

  Thirteen

  Kylie twirled her pencil as Professor Nickels passed out their graded exams. Though she’d studied for a solid day before, the test had been more difficult than she expected. Too much of her time over the last few weeks had been spent planning the Belize trip.

  I know I did well on the essays. They were simple enough, but the multiple-choice section was killer, and it was worth half. Nickels passed by her the fourth time but still didn’t give her the test. She laid her pencil down and bit her lip. There can’t be that many left. He ambled toward her and finally laid her test facedown.

  “I can handle a C,” she whispered to herself. “My grades are high enough that I could still pull off the B.” Closing her eyes, she turned the paper over. She peeked open one eye and shut it tight again. “No.”

  Flipping
her test facedown again, she gazed at the board where Professor Nickels wrote the results of the test: 3 As. 4 Bs. 12 Cs. 8 Ds. 3 Fs. “It’s not possible.”

  She turned it back over and stared at the oversize, red F. “There has to be some mistake.” Skimming the first page, she hadn’t missed any of the multiple-choice questions. She turned the page, noting two questions she’d missed. The third page revealed one wrong answer. She flipped to the essay questions. In bright red, the words “Answer irrelevant to question” screamed at her. “Lacks supporting details” blared from the next essay.

  “He’s failed me on my essays.” She scoured the questions and her answers to both. Digging through her folder, she found the notes she’d taken applying to both questions. “These are good answers. Solid.”

  Through her peripheral vision, she saw fellow students leave their seats. Nickels must have dismissed class, but Kylie couldn’t move. She yanked her calculator from her purse and tallied her grades. An F on this test gave her a high C in the class. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t fair. Her answers were well thought out, well written. Nickels had some sort of vendetta against her that she didn’t understand.

  A briefcase shut, drawing her attention. Nickels walked toward the door. I have to talk to him about this. She swallowed, dreading any kind of confrontation.

  “Professor Nickels.” She stood and met him by the door. “Can I ask you about my test?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to say if you can.”

  Kylie sighed, feeling as if her second-grade teacher had just reprimanded her. “May I speak with you about my test?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you may.”

  “I don’t understand why my essay grades are so low.” She pulled out her notes. “My answers look very much like the notes I took from your presentation.”

  “You didn’t explain yourself well. Look.” He pointed to his personal scribbling. “I told you, you lacked details.”

  Kylie cleared her throat. She had no intention of being disrespectful, but something wasn’t right. He’d taken too many points away. “Professor Nickels, you gave me almost no points, and I identified each area with a minimum of a paragraph of explanation.”