“No, not even a little bit.”
“You never did talk about what happened with her.”
“Nothing to tell, really. I loved her, or at least I thought I did. She said she loved me, but it turns out she didn’t. She found someone else after I decided to give away the Cooper family fortune, and now she’s back. This is good,” he said, pointing to his beaker, which was almost empty of the beer he’d been sampling. He drained the last of it and refilled it from the spout.
“You were going to give all your money away?”
“My family’s money.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not. You know how they were.”
Luis nodded. “Hell, I would have left you too. Dude, what were you thinking? Giving away all that money?”
Cooper gave him a look.
“So you’re going to leave her alone then?” Luis asked, returning to a safer subject. Cooper didn’t talk his family’s past. “Are you going to fire her?”
“No, she said she needed a job, so we’ll see if that’s the truth,” Cooper said, taking Luis’s beaker from his hand to refill it for him. And even though he was still surprised by her presence and didn’t quite trust her, so far she’d just worked—like she’d said she’d do, like she’d been hired to do.
#
Sunday evening
“I’m think I’m going to go for a run before it gets dark,” Kendall said.
Aunt Myra was sitting in front of the television, watching some show.
“Be careful,” she said, turning to look at Kendall. She’d been doing that a lot since their talk. It was like she needed to reassure herself that Kendall was fine.
“I’m fine,” Kendall said in response to her aunt’s look of apprehension. “And there’s no need to worry about me. I run all the time. I have my phone with me in case something happens.”
“That’s not what has me worried,” Myra said.
“I’m a big girl,” Kendall said, and smiled. She plugged her headphones into her ears and slipped out of the front door. She’d gone to church with Myra that morning and had met a whole boatload of people who loved her aunt. It had been a diverse group at the church, another surprise. The last bastions of segregation were giving way to change…all ethnicities in one church. And the world still managed to turn, at least in this one small corner of the globe.
It was a nice evening, and others seemed to share her idea about spending some time outdoors. There were people moving everywhere—kids on their skateboards, little girls with a mix of skin colors drawing on the sidewalk in a mix of differently colored chalk.
She was at the corner now, made a right onto Locust Street. She returned the wave from an older Hispanic couple, sitting on their front porch, as she jogged past. Cooper must have encountered someone like her mother, and it had left its mark on him in a big way. Being played by someone you loved, who you thought returned that love, could leave even the warmest men cold. She had plenty experience, having watched her mother at work so many times.
Three blocks, and she made a left turn onto Highway 1341, the main road—the only road, she corrected herself—into and out of this town. She slowed down to a walk. There were others out walking around here too. The air was filled with laughter, from people who appeared to be happy living here or visiting the good old town of Coopersville. They had all been friendly, many of them smiling or waving as she moved past, which was cool, ’cause she liked friendly, and it was something she’d gotten used to living in Austin.
She passed by the bingo hall, as the sign on door indicated, a really cool, old-styled building from another generation. Next to it was an ice-cream parlor, Ann’s Ice Cream and Sweets. She walked past tables that had been placed on the sidewalk in front of Ann’s. A family of two adults and three children sat around one of them, eating pink, white, and green ice-cream cones.
She walked past several more shops, a Laundromat, and a couple of clothing stores, all open, with people wandering in and out of them. She stopped at the corner of 1341 and New Quarry Road. How many “Quarry” roads did they need in this town? she wondered. Crossing the street would put her into the parking lot of the Brewpub, and she asked herself, What are we doing here, Kendall? This hadn’t been her intended destination, but here she stood nevertheless, some invisible string having guided her to it, an unspoken desire to get a closer look at him and the Brewpub.
She glanced at the city hall and its municipal buildings located across the street. She’d seen buildings like these a hundred times on her drive here from Austin, found in most every small town, remnants of the past. They reminded her of the ones she’d seen in old black-and-white movies. All with those parking spaces aligned diagonally in front of them. Next to the muni buildings were a bistro, a hair salon, and a diner.
She crossed the street, approaching the Brewpub from the right side. It was a nice brick building, dark brown with green trim, and a pretty good-sized parking lot, full of automobiles—a mix of cars, trucks, and minivans. The front part of the pub was all windows, the top half of it anyway, and the windows ran the length of the front of the building, wrapping around both sides.
She walked closer to peek inside. There were people seated around tables, drinking, eating and talking, generally enjoying themselves. It was packed, just like the parking lot had suggested.
She passed the front door, and continued on until she’d cleared the building. On the other side was another dining area, about three times the size of the inside. A five-foot-tall wrought-iron fence that started at the end of the building enclosed the outside patio area, extending the pub an additional ten feet or so. The outside flooring was covered in small stones, light orange interspersed with green. Round tables with umbrellas—green or light orange—played host to a crowd, and sounds of laughter and talking floated over to her.
She peered through the fence and saw him, Barnabus, standing inside a glass-enclosed room within the building, surrounded by huge copper-colored equipment. The brewing room, she surmised. He was engaged in conversation with another man.
Barnabus was a handsome guy; he was dressed casually again, with his T-shirt tucked into his shorts. Today the shirt was a different color. He looked up just as she stopped and caught her gaze. She was the first to break her stare. She turned and headed back the way she’d come.
Eight
“Is that her?” Luis said, catching sight of a very pretty brown-skinned woman standing outside the front of the pub, near the patio area. He and Coop were still inside the pub’s brewing room. He could see her though the front windows. He’d watched her walk by a few minutes ago. Cooper hadn’t seen her, of course, too engrossed in all things beer.
“Is who her?” Cooper asked, turning to see whom Luis was talking about. He felt a small twinge of guilt and something else he wouldn’t name at the sight of Kendall standing outside, staring at him.
“Yes, it’s her,” he said, his eyes cool on hers for a few seconds before she turned away.
“She’s pretty. Now I can see why…” Luis said, exiting the brewing room and leaving Cooper behind as he moved toward the front window, following Kendall’s departure across the front of the pub.
“You should go apologize to her,” Luis said, his eyes still on the professor. Cooper had trailed behind Luis and was standing beside him. Both of them watched her go.
“You helping out tomorrow?” Cooper asked, his eyes still trained on the front window, continuing on with the conversation they’d been having prior to seeing her outside.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be right back,” Cooper suddenly said, and walked away, heading to the front door to see if he could catch her. Luis was right, and now was a good time to get started with this eating-crow business. It didn’t taste good cold or hot, plus now that Aunt Myra felt sure about her, maybe that might mean other things for him…And he was back to thinking that she would make a great addition to his summer activities.
When he stepped out on
to the sidewalk, she was about to cross the street. She must have been getting some exercise. She looked great, dressed in shorts and a sports bra, headphones in her ears, her hair pulled up, sneakers on her feet.
He should not have allowed sex to enter into this, at least not before figuring her out. Now it was complicated. If he’d waited, he wouldn’t be in this position, trying to clear this up, hoping she would forgive him and he’d find a way to entice her into spending more time with him, doing what they did together so well, and sooner was much better than later. And back to the sex part. The two of them were a potent mix…Was there any way he could convince her to try that again with him after everything he’d said? He jogged toward her, eyes glued to her ass.
#
“Kendall, wait up,” she heard. It was Barnabus. When she turned, she saw him lightly jogging to catch up with her. She looked away, and continued walking. She wouldn’t jog, ’cause that would make her look ridiculous, like she was running from him. He touched her arm when he reached her, and she turned to face him.
He sure was one good-looking male.
“It seems I owe you an apology,” he said, and smiled. “I spoke to Myra this morning.”
Kendall didn’t say a word, just watched him.
“Your aunt means the world to me. It’s the only explanation I can give for the way I’ve behaved. She’s been more of a mother to me than my own, and I would hurt anyone before I allowed her to be hurt. I watch out for her,” he said.
She remained silent and watchful.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t here to harm her. I do understand that my methods may have seemed harsh to you, but I felt it was necessary,” he said.
She was quiet, still just watching him.
“Not going to cooperate with me, I see…All of this is your fault, really,” he said, chuckling, going with charm. It usually worked when all else failed.
“How is it my fault?” she asked. Finally, he thought. He hadn’t been sure she’d ever talk to him again.
“I was going to just talk to you as soon as you arrived. I was planning to pull you aside and lay everything out. Right? Tell you that there many of us here who take your aunt’s health and wellness very seriously. That was my original aim,” he said. He looked away for a second, then smiled when his gaze met hers again.
“I took one look at you at the gas station, and I lost all thought of engaging in a conversation, at least one that required words,” he said, still smiling.
“Then I saw that you played the game of golf like it’s meant to be played, and afterwards in the clubhouse…well, I just lost it,” he said, opening his arms like his argument was a perfectly reasonable one. “I honestly hadn’t planned on being attracted to you,” he said, opting for his sheepish smile this time, going for honest. It was always the best policy as far as he was concerned, and it could quickly disarm some huge obstacles. Most people didn’t expect it, and that, coupled with his looks, could unlock a whole lot of anger.
“So I’m sorry for the way it came out and for hurting your feelings, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t here to harm Myra, and I can be brutal in protecting the people I love. I don’t apologize for that, okay? Just for being wrong about you,” he said.
“Fine, I understand,” she said, nodding.
“You do?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure.
“I do, at least the Aunt Myra-protectiveness part. I can understand that, though I’d appreciate it more if I hadn’t been on the receiving end of it. The gold-digger part…well, that was something else, from a different place entirely. I must have reminded you of someone, because I can’t think of another reason why you’d call me that name. Where did that come from?” she asked, anger behind her words. She shook her head, held out her hand. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know. I’m not after your money, and I didn’t even know you had any. Believe it or not, not everyone has heard of you.”
“I knew things about you, though. I met you mother when she was here.”
“Let me guess. She didn’t make a good impression. You’re not the first,” Kendall said, hands on her hips in defense.
“Nope. I bet she doesn’t make a good impression on most folks,” he said.
“I’m trying to be civil here. So tread carefully around the topic of my mother,” she said.
He shook his head, starting to get angry himself. This wasn’t going according to plan, and what was she doing, trying to make this into something this wasn’t? All it had been was a bad assumption on his part. I apologized, so get over it already, he thought.
He looked away for a second before he said something that would only make the situation worse. “Anyway, after meeting your mother, Myra talked to us about you. She wasn’t sure either. And then when your ex, Houston, stopped by the Brewpub on Saturday afternoon, it was another surprise. He thought you might have been after his money too—like mother, like daughter. Add all that up, and it would have affected your opinion of you too,” he said, eyes on her again. He’d dropped the charming bit now.
“Houston was here?” she asked.
“Yes, with his buddy Jordan.”
She looked behind him, eyes glued to some distant point down the street, and he took the opportunity to run his eyes over her again. The memory of bending her nude body over the sofa’s arm and the way she’d felt beneath him came rushing into his mind. He cleared his throat.
“So maybe you could be a little understanding of the predicament I find myself in. You’ve got to see that I had some reasons for making those bad assumptions,” he said.
“Maybe. Fine. Anyway, consider your apology accepted, Barnabus. Myra would want me to, so I will. But I won’t forget,” she said, eyes on his. “Anything else?”
“The name’s Cooper, and no,” he said. So much for the quick route of offering a smile and an apology, so much for being charming. His hopes for more sex came crashing to a halt. Her expression told him that it would only happen when hell froze over. He smiled again anyway.
“I prefer Barnabus; it’s my personal reminder that you can be an asshole. It’s best I don’t forget that, I think. I’d better let you get back to work,” she said. She turned and walked away from him.
He stood there until she disappeared from view, catching her last glance back at him before she turned the corner.
#
“So, did he apologize?” Lark asked later on that night. She’d called Kendall to check in.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?” Kendall asked.
“Don’t make me drag this out of you.”
“Yes, he apologized. He told me that Myra meant the world to him, and he wouldn’t have treated me badly if he’d known the truth. The reason he slept with me was that I was too beautiful to pass up, and he lost his mind because he was so captivated by me, by my golf game…You know, it’s what all the men say,” she said, laughing by the time she finished that sentence. “Of course I accepted it, and I do kind of understand, but not really. So what now?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“Kick his ass, maybe.”
“There is that,” Lark said, laughing at the image of her sister kicking anybody’s booty. She’d have a better shot at it than Kendall.
“I’m not going to do anything. I’ll try and forget about him if I can, pretend it never happened.”
“And that’s another way to go,” Lark said.
“What would you do?”
“If he was as good as you said, I’d probably go back for more, nothing serious, kick it for a time, but that’s just me,” Lark said.
“Maybe, we’ll see,” Kendall said, yawning. “Anyway, got to go, I’m tired. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Sure,” Lark said, and hung up.
#
Monday morning, Memorial Day
Kendall and Myra stayed busy most of the day, serving hot dogs at one of the food stands. Hot dogs, Frito pies, and nachos were the fa
re that they were in charge of selling to the many people who were at the park to celebrate Memorial Day. All money that was raised today would go toward some noble cause. Her aunt Myra, she was quickly learning, was the patron saint of all causes.
The festival was held at the city park, behind the city hall and the municipal buildings. There were all sorts of booths set up today, selling various items from food to small knickknacks, art, and books, all handmade and homegrown.
Myra’s booth was sponsored by the church, which was raising money to fund its charitable work with the local elementary school. Their booth was boxed in between the Coopersville Brewpub and Knit One, Purl Two, a local knitting store. She would have much preferred to be somewhere farther away from Barnabus, but luck was on somebody else’s side today. At least it was a gorgeous spring day.
The park was one city block in size, square in shape, with a sidewalk that served as a border to the green grass. The booths sat on the border grass, between the sidewalk and the street. That left the center of the park free for tourist to pull out a blanket and relax, which many of them had done.
It had been a day of heating hot dogs, stirring the dang nacho cheese, and making sure the chili was not clumping together for the Frito pies. Taxing work it was not. But it had kept her occupied and her mind away from the beer guy next door. After the initial hello they’d exchanged with Myra looking on, she’d kept her head down whenever he came near.
He was hard to ignore, though. Everybody knew Barnabus, although no one seemed to call him that but her. It was LC this or Cooper that, but mostly it was Coop. Lots of what’s up, man and how have you been? He was long-lost buddies with just about everyone in town. Not that she’d been paying attention.
And don’t get her started on the women. “Oh, Coop, you’re so cute,” “Oh, Coop, you’re so funny,” they would say, and she’d fought to keep from gagging. Of course he ate it up, or at least it seemed that way to her.
It was nearing the end of the day, and the sun only had another thirty minutes or so left to shine. Barnabus was done for the day; his booth had closed down a few minutes ago. He stood in front of her booth now, next to the Latino man she’d seen at the pub with him yesterday. He was a handsome man, an inch or two shorter than Barnabus. He was lean, brown skinned, and dark haired. Both men held cups of beer.
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