Drummer Boy

by Toni Sheridan

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “Can you blame me? I’d have an excuse to get nice and close.”

  Jane snorted. “I don’t know if I’m flattered or irritated by that comment.”

  “Go with flattered.”

  “All right. I’m flattered.”

  “Excellent.” Tim grinned and glanced over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway.

  “What are you wearing?” Jane asked as they walked toward the big glass doors of the church.

  Tim raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “A drumming t-shirt.”

  His grin broadened, and she noticed the eye tooth on his left side stuck out just a little bit further than its brothers, overlapping the lateral incisor beside it just a smidge. Jane loved the tiny irregularity.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “What does your shirt say?”

  “Guess.”

  She shook her head. “No idea.”

  “Try.”

  “Hmmm…How about ‘a drum for all seasons’?”

  “No, but that’d be a good one.” He unzipped his jacket and looked down at his stomach, keeping the picture hidden from view. “Try again?”

  “Parum pum.”

  He laughed and a petite red-haired woman looked at him censoriously. He lowered his volume a tad. “No, but I actually do have one like that. It says ‘Little Drummer Boy’ really small across the top and has a cartoon guy waving his sticks madly. Am I that predictable?”

  “Nah, you just wear your obsessions on your chest, so everybody and their dog knows what to get you for Christmas and birthdays.”

  “You got that right,” said Tim. “It’s an off year if I don’t score at least two new shirts. Now lean in.”

  Jane peeked into his jacket as bidden. Tim’s army green shirt featured a tough-looking cowboy yelling at a little bow-legged guy who stood shamefaced in front of a set of red drums. A speech bubble above the angry cowboy’s head read, “I said it was time to pull out the big guns. Big guns.”

  “Heh!” Jane said.

  “You may be the only woman who’s ever appreciated my t-shirts properly.”

  Jane smirked. “What can I say? You work so hard to drum up compliments.”

  Tim groaned, and then they were inside, being ushered to the fireside room—a large meeting room on a separate floor from the sanctuary, used for special events.

  ****

  The tea was very polished and went off smoothly, but that was the best thing Jane could say about it. Something about the event felt contrived and when the guest speaker got all choked up, and waved her hand over her face, stuttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I’m just so moved by these young people,” before she started her speech, Jane felt like a bad person, but all she could think was that the woman seemed fake. Like she was making a show of how much she cared. Jane also resented the plug for various local businesses. This was supposed to be about a group of nine kids who’d been clean for a year—not about coupons to buy junk at a discount.

  Seeing Sarah at the end made the whole thing worth it, however. She was radiant in an old-fashioned dress and striped leggings, eyes huge beneath her raven-wing hair, cheeks flushed a deep rosy pink, when she stepped up to accept a big bouquet of mixed flowers. She dipped her head in small curtsey. “I’d like to say a special thank you to my mom, to my Uncle Tim, and to my friend, Jane. Mom, for not giving up on me. Tim, for being whatever I need him to be, whenever I need him and Jane, for being the kind of person I want to be.”

  Jane was touched and gave a little wave.

  “So what could you possibly do to gain such undying gratitude and respect from our Miss Sarah?” Tim whispered, leaning in close to her.

  Jane shrugged and tried not to feel stung.

  His eyes were warm and friendly, so what kind of comment was that?

  “I don’t have the foggiest.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said and then went quiet as each of the other eight kids said a few words.

  Ouch.

  “So you think she’s doing all right?” Jane asked on their way out of the building after they’d said good-bye to Sarah and congratulated her once more.

  “Who? Sarah?”

  “Who else?”

  Tim started the car and let it idle. “I think,” he started. “I think…she’s doing well, yeah. Maybe better than most of us, but life’s a forest. You can be on a good path, but you’re never fully out of the woods, and you’re safer when you don’t forget it.”

  “I’m worried that she’s too sunshine and roses. I want to believe God’s healed her as miraculously as He’s seemed to, but—

  “It seems too good to be true, maybe? Like she’s still putting on a persona instead of facing the things that eat at her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tim drummed his steering wheel with both hands.

  Jane was sure the movement was unconscious and it made her smile.

  The guy fidgeted almost as much as she did.

  Finally, he turned to look at her. “I’ve wondered that, too. Enough that I’ve broached the subject with her, and we’ve talked about her dad’s choices, too.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That I shouldn’t worry. That she was ‘all good.’”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought, and that you’re a bit worried, too, gives me pause.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “We’ll?” Tim asked.

  Jane scrunched her face. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I think I do,” Tim said. “But I hope one day you mean what I mean.” He let the car roll back slowly and then turned onto the street.

  “And what on earth does that mean?” Jane asked, wanting to laugh but feeling weirdly solemn.

  “We’ll know when you know.”

  “Oh, thanks. That’s really deep.”

  Tim grinned.

  Jane smacked his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. What did you mean?”

  Tim pulled up to the intersection and then meticulously looked both ways, twice, before proceeding.

  “I like how you do that,” Jane said before he had a chance to answer her.

  “Do what?”

  “How careful you are at stop signs. How you drive. I mean…” she stopped. Could she sound any dumber? “It’s not how I would’ve expected.”

  Crinkle lines appeared at the corners of Tim’s eyes, but he kept watching the road ahead. “How so?”

  “Well, you know.”

  “No, no, I don’t.”

  “I followed you a bit when you were with Pick Axe,” she blurted. “I had all your cassettes.”

  “Cassettes.” Tim laughed loudly. “Right. Those were the days, hey?”

  “Whatever. I even have one of your posters.”

  Tim darted a look her way. “Really? Now that’s pretty cool. There were only about fifty printed.”

  “What can I say? I was a fan.”

  “See, I find that hard to believe—and a bit disappointing.”

  “Why?”

  “We were beyond terrible—all that yelling and wailing. And the hair. The hair was too much.”

  “I don’t know. They had a pretty cute drummer.”

  Tim turned his head and held her gaze for a minute. “But I was the only drummer.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows, and Tim blushed.

  “OK, back to the driving thing,” Tim said, sounding the tiniest bit flustered. “Explain.”

  “Let’s just say I thought you’d be a little more of a bad boy, a little less like…er…an old lady.”

  “Ha, maybe I was a bad boy once upon a time, but I try not to think of those days much. I hurt a lot, and I hurt a lot of people, too.” Tim’s expression darkened for a moment, similar to how it had in his apartment when he discussed his tattoos. Then he smiled. “But I’ll have you know something. Even at my worst, I always drove very car
efully.”

  Jane shook her head, smiling. “Excellent, excellent. Now about your good old days that weren’t so good. Will you tell me about them sometime?”

  “If you want.”

  Jane nodded.

  “And now you tell me something.”

  “OK.”

  “When are you going to go out with me?”

  “I am out with you.”

  “Very funny. You know what I mean. A real date. Dressed up, maybe. Dinner.”

  “You don’t want to date me.”

  “No, as per my request that we talk after Sarah’s tea about what you are to me, this is it. Our talk. My talk. I’m pretty sure—actually, make that totally sure—that’s exactly what I want: you to date me. Fall in love with me. Maybe even marry me.”

  Jane wished she’d gone home. His face was so open. She could read all sorts of flattering things in it: attraction, kindness, affection, good humor, and it scared her.

  “Or,” he said, shooting her another quick look, “we can just keep it friendly.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, wanting to study his eyes for a moment, but he’d refocused his attention on the road ahead. This was exactly what she was afraid of. He was already back-pedaling. Had she misread what she thought she’d seen in his expression just seconds earlier? Maybe his heart didn’t race every time he heard her voice. Maybe her feelings were all one sided—nah, she couldn’t lie, even to herself. She knew full well he had feelings for her.

  But people had feelings for each other all the time. And look how many relationships worked out long term. She didn’t want the pain of trying and failing or the agony of letting him in all the way and having him bail.

  Jane rested her temple against the cold, hard window and watched the darkness streak by. The warm, happy buzz his initial words—and her imagination as he spoke—had triggered dissipated. She couldn’t believe she’d almost succumbed. Almost let them wander into romantic territory where there’d be no turning back without something having to officially end.

  Tell him your fears. Put it in words, a small, tiny voice implored her. She shivered. No way. No, thanks.

  “You’re quiet,” Tim said. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” she said. “Just tired.”

  “So…” he said, and his voice was so sad that she felt terrible. “I take it, you just want to be friends?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m not really into seeing anyone right now,” she said, worried that she sounded as unconvinced as she felt. She forced herself to sit a little straighter. She had to send Tim the message they both needed to hear, even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

  11

  Jane flexed her left hand gingerly, watching her fingers. She sighed and looked at her reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that in her tank dress and strappy heels. Not bad from the right side.

  Kaylie popped her head out of her bedroom when Jane was in the hallway. “It’s August 1! Did you know that means it’s less than five months ’til Christmas?”

  “The whole household knows, doodle.”

  “Candy says you’ll have your own place by then. Is that true?”

  “I think so.”

  “Do you want me to make you your own countdown calendar?”

  “Do I ever.”

  “Excellent!”

  Jane shook her head, but smiled. Crazy kid.

  “Wow, look at you!” Candy said when Jane entered the kitchen. “Got a hot date with Tim?”

  “Tim?” Jane opened the fridge and leaned in, looking for something, but she wasn’t sure what. “Of course not. Edward.”

  “Edward? Who’s Edward? And why not Tim?”

  “What is this? Twenty questions? Tim’s not my type, and I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. And Edward? Well, he’s probably not for me either, but he’s drop dead hot. I met him at the ski hill just before…well, before.”

  Candy shook her head to Jane’s silent offer to pour her a glass of cranberry juice.

  “Hot-sch-mot. Tim’s cute, too, but more importantly, he’s got substance. You should see how nice he is to Kaylie, and how he interacts with Matt and Michael. It’s great for them to have him around. He’s somehow still “cool” to them, but he’s such an integrity-filled guy, too.”

  Jane shut the fridge too firmly. “Yeah, he’s fantastic, right? Mr. Perfect?”

  “Er, I don’t think that’s what I was saying, or if I was, sort of, I didn’t mean it badly. What’s up with you? I thought you liked him.”

  “I do like him. Of course I do. What’s not to like?”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Oh, come on, Candy. What’s the point? He’ll see through me in six months, or I’ll tire of him, and then where will we be? It’s easier this way.”

  “But—”

  Jane shook her head, downed the rest of her beverage in one gulp, and then set the empty glass down. “I’ll see you later. Don’t wait up.”

  ****

  Only forty-five minutes had passed and their entrees, wild salmon with spinach salad and wild rice pilaf, both ordered by Edward, were just finished, but Jane could hardly keep from yawning, literally.

  Edward’s ramblings about his prowess in various sports, how much he could bench, what his daily diet consisted of, and—not even kidding—what product he used in his hair, made Jane’s eyes glaze over.

  Was this what talking with her was like? That was the worst part of the ordeal. She thought she saw similarities between her and Edward. Although, to her credit, she could honestly say she never spent a whole meal with her gaze fixed on someone’s chest.

  “So,” he finally said, locking his hands behind his head and stretching so his biceps flexed, “what do you want to do next? Dessert, maybe, or some other after dinner treat?” Unbelievably, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Wow. Just wow. She shook her head. “No dessert for me. I’m kind of impatient to be out of here.”

  “Great, me too,” he said, smiling.

  Their server arrived with the bill.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jane said. “Do you mind separating them?”

  The server nodded wordlessly and disappeared.

  “Ah, a modern woman,” Edward said. “And hot. My favorite.”

  Jane’s revulsion probably showed on her face, but she didn’t care. She hated that there was a time she would’ve giggled and felt a bit flattered by his comment. For the umpteenth time, she wished she’d been cleared to drive. She loathed being dependent on others for transportation.

  She headed for the cashier’s booth, shuffling out of reach when Edward started to drape his arm over her shoulders. She contemplated bugging Candy to pick her up and then remembered Candy and Dean were out on their date night. Maybe she should call Tim, but that might be weird.

  “Hey, Edward, would you mind just taking me home? I know we talked about a movie or something, but I’m not feeling up to it.”

  One of Edward’s eyebrows shot up, and then a slow smile revealed his teeth. “Sure, yeah. I’m good to take you home already. No problem.”

  Something like relief unwound in her stomach and then re-knotted. Why had she agreed to go out with him in the first place? She’d seen through him from the get go. Was her ego so big that she always had to have someone on the line? Was she so pathetically like her mother that she constantly needed to have some man in tow, no matter how much she knew someone wasn’t for her?

  You know full well why you said you’d go out with him. And you know full well it hasn’t made you stop thinking about Tim. This only shines a spotlight on all the things that are different about him, that you like, even more.

  She sighed.

  “That’s a pretty big sigh. Anything I can do to help you relax?” Edward asked.

  She didn’t bother to reply.

  He pulled into her driveway, and she calmed down a bit. The night was almost over. He put the car into park but didn�
��t turn off the motor, another good sign. Then her nerves ratcheted up again. He was leaning into kiss her. Seriously? Was he completely delusional? How on earth had he gotten any vibes like that from their awkward meal?

  She unlatched her seatbelt and reached to open the door, but like almost every stupid new car on the market these days, the door was locked because the motor was running: date rape door locks her friend Terri called them.

  She glanced up at the dark house. Candy was out, as she already knew, and had, no doubt, dropped Kaylie at a friend’s house. The twins were probably working.

  Jane pressed her right hand firmly against Edward’s chest.

  He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Not into kissing in the car?”

  Jane wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, not so much. Sorry.”

  “So you wanna take it inside? I was going to tell you I’m not that kind of guy, but that’d be a lie.” He winked.

  Irritation and disgust heated Jane’s cheeks.

  His lines probably worked on some women.

  “I only wanted to have dinner and get to know you a bit. I think we’re looking for different things in a relationship.”

  “Well, that may be so.” Edward straightened up, stared out the window, and then back at her, rubbing the steering wheel with one thumb. “But I don’t think ending a night with a kiss is too much to ask. And who knows? You might like it.”

  What are we, teenagers? Like peer pressure is going to change my mind?

  Edward’s seatbelt clicked as he undid it and he turned, put his arm around her, and leaned in more forcefully this time. “Come on. Just one kiss. If you really aren’t into it, I’ll let you out.”

  She shoved him away. “I’m already not into it.” Dear God, please help me get out of this. Please. “It’s totally uncool to try to force someone to kiss you.”

  “Oh, c’mon. Relax. I’m just joking around.” He stroked her cheek but didn’t release her shoulder.

  A vehicle pulled into the driveway behind them, and Jane was even more irritated. It probably looked like she was smooching this jerk. “I don’t share your sense of humor, and no means no. Maybe you’ve never heard that before?” She yanked away, and then someone tapped on the window and a familiar voice made her freeze.