Whatever You Say

Home > Other > Whatever You Say > Page 12
Whatever You Say Page 12

by Leigh Fleming


  “Well, maybe I do.” She dropped her head against his shoulder, muffling a laugh in his jacket.

  “Don’t you remember what you promised me in the parking lot? At the Brass Rail?” he whispered against her ear.

  “Oh yeah…” She chuckled and leaned back, melting him with a playful grin. “I suggested a deal. If you promise to get back to writing again—”

  “You’ll try to relax…a little.”

  “See you just finished my sentence.”

  “You’re right. I did.” He slid his hands inside her coat and tugged her tight against him. “But you won’t be right about the rest. I promise.”

  FOURTEEN

  “We’re running out of glasses, Kate,” Darla shouted across the kitchen.

  “Coming.” Kate was elbow-deep in hot, sudsy water, washing and rinsing dishes as fast as they were dumped into the metal sink. When she got a break, she planned to peek into the dining room to see how many people were eating Thanksgiving dinner in the fellowship hall of the United Methodist Church. It seemed like the entire town of Highland Springs came out for the free meal by the number of plates and silverware that had passed through her hands. Those endless hours of legal writing were starting to look good.

  “Hey, Kate.” Riley came into the room, tying a floral apron at her waist. “Let me take over for a while. Your back has to be breaking by now.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” It was true, her back was killing her. She had lost track of how long she’d been bent over the deep sink. She reached for a towel and looked around the corner at the busyness in the kitchen as she arched her back. Darla was filling water glasses, Arthur was carving turkey, and Sam was ladling gravy into serving bowls. Several other volunteers were hard at work—folks she’d met that morning, whose names already escaped her. She took a few steps into the cooking area and missed colliding with Brody by an inch.

  “Watch out.” He held an industrial sized baking dish over his head as he swerved out of her way. “Sweet potatoes coming through.” They had been so busy since coming to the church that morning, she’d barely spoken a word to him. As soon as everyone arrived, they kicked into high gear to prepare the annual feast.

  “That was close.” He swatted her bottom with an oven mitt.

  A surging tingle radiated throughout her body and her cheeks grew warm. She smoothed the skirt of her apron and looked down at the floor, doing her best to hide the smile on her face. Brody had worked on the ramp only one day this week, which was a good thing. The trial had started two days ago and she was busy reviewing testimony each day. She didn’t need the distraction of his muscles flexing each time he slammed the hammer or picked up a board.

  “You’re blushing.” Liza was at the coffee maker, waiting for the carafe to fill. “Want to tell me?”

  “Oh, um.” She shook her head and chuckled. “It’s nothing.”

  “You sure about that?” Before she could reply, Liza placed a full decanter in one of her hands and a quart of half-and-half in the other. “Can you walk around and refill coffee? Start at the table by the door. Thanks.” With that, Liza was off to the dining room to clear tables and collect dirty dishes.

  Kate backed into the swinging door, keeping her eyes riveted on Brody, who was talking to Arthur over a steaming pot of gravy. She felt like a teenager with her first crush. Maybe this deal of theirs could work. She’d learn to relax—well, maybe when she was with him—and he’d start composing again. With a little less sleep she could keep up with her work and still have time left over for him. What was it he said? She would give him some valuable writing material. She looked forward to finding out what that was. She drew back her shoulders and put a little swing in her walk, just in case he might notice.

  “Hey, look who’s here.”

  She stopped in her tracks when she heard the familiar, gravelly voice. She turned to her right, finding a table full of guys she recognized from the Brass Rail. It was the group of gas company workers, and Jonas was among them. “It’s a small world, ain’t it?” he said.

  “Hi, everyone.” Kate plastered on a smile and began refilling coffee cups. “Hello, Jonas.”

  “How ‘bout that. You remembered my name.”

  “Yep.” She started filling cups on the opposite side of the table from where Jonas sat, going down the row away from him, hoping she’d run out of coffee before she got to his seat. The coffee pot had only one cup left, but before she could empty it and get away from the group, Jonas walked up beside her with his cup extended.

  “How about a refill before you run out?”

  She obliged by filling his cup and splashed in a shot of cream. She turned to walk away, but he stepped in front of her. “I want to apologize for the other night at the bar. I didn’t realize you were meeting your boyfriend there.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. Not a problem.” The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but she kept a pleasant smile frozen on her face.

  “I just didn’t want you to think I’m some creeper, stalking you or anything.”

  “I didn’t think that. No worries.” Once more she took a step to walk away, but he blocked her exit.

  “It’s just that, I don’t know, maybe I had too much to drink, or I was lonely. Been away from home too long.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, we’ve been working here and I haven’t been home in three months.”

  With her hackles still up, Kate took a deep breath and remembered where she was. If a guy had been so annoyingly persistent back in DC, she might threaten to take him out. But this was Highland Springs, crime rate near zero, and it was Thanksgiving. In a small town like this, she was expected to show a little more kindness and compassion. When in Rome…

  “Where are you from?” she asked, keeping an interested expression on her face.

  “I’m from Texas. Been working for this company ten years. Now with fracking, we get sent all over. Kinda makes it hard, you know?”

  “I can imagine. When will you be finished here?”

  “We’ve got another month or so, then we’re off to God knows where.”

  “Well, I’m glad all of you could come today. It was good talking to you. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Brody stood in the kitchen, watching Kate through the service window talking to the gas company guy she ditched at the Brass Rail. He must have been telling her quite a tale because she had that concerned, sympathetic look on her face. Surely she wasn’t falling for his line of bull. With a churning in his gut and a need to step in, he gripped the handle of the rolling cart used for clearing tables and backed through the doorway, wheeling it in Kate’s direction.

  “Hey, sweetheart, want to help me clear the tables?” he said, coming within a half an inch of bumping Jonas with the cart. Her cheeks took on a deep red blush and her eyes a smoky glare. “Hey, man, good to see you again.” Brody shook hands with Jonas and gave a quick wave to the rest of the guys at the table. “Glad you all could come. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some cleaning to do.”

  He tipped his head at Kate, giving her the signal to follow. She trailed behind him as they crossed the room to a table covered with used plates, cups, and silverware.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered loudly. “He wasn’t bothering me.”

  “You looked a little worried. Thought maybe you needed me to play boyfriend again.” He nudged her with his shoulder and shot her a wink. He liked coming to her rescue, even though he had no right. She chuckled and shook her head as she walked to the other side of the table.

  “Okay, I admit it, he gives me the creeps.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the gas workers’ table. “I feel like he’s staring a hole through me.”

  “Right now he’s diving into a piece of pumpkin pie.” He looked at the workers, huddled together at the table. Jonas looked up and nodded at Brody who returned the gesture. Even if it was just a ruse, he’d continue to let Jonas know it wasn’t okay to mess with his woman. His woman—he liked
the sound of that.

  The notion gave him a chill. She’d prophesied what might happen if they got involved, but he couldn’t help thinking about the possibility. Kate had made it clear she was going back to Washington. They shouldn’t get involved. It was pure common sense…but when did he ever listen to common sense? Hopefully, this little deal they’d worked out might lead to more.

  “I better unload this cart.” He pushed the cart toward the kitchen, resisting the urge to see if she was watching him go.

  Two hours later, Kate was clearing several tables as the last of the Thanksgiving guests were leaving the church hall. There were a few people lingering over dessert, but for the most part, the dining room was empty. As she piled plates into a precarious tower, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find a young woman behind her with an infant on her hip and three children, all appearing to be under the age of five, standing stoically beside her.

  “Excuse me. Is the dinner over?” she asked. Kate found herself staring at the frail young woman sporting a purple bruise over one eye and missing front tooth. The children looked as though they hadn’t seen a bathtub in weeks.

  Finally tearing her eyes away from the filthy kids, she smiled warmly and tried to hide her dismay. “Actually, we stopped serving about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Okay. Come on kids.” The woman turned to walk out, but two of the children stayed rooted, eyeing the leftovers strewn across the table.

  “Wait. I’m sure we have something in the kitchen for you. Take a seat.” She pointed toward an empty table nearby. “Sit over there. I’ll bring you some turkey.”

  Besides the trip out to Cash’s Holler, this was the first time Kate had come face-to-face with poverty and obvious abuse. It was evident by the children’s thin bodies and wan complexions that they weren’t getting the nutrition they needed.

  “Brody.” She rushed into the kitchen, finding him placing the last of the turkey in a plastic container. “Can I have some of that?”

  “Taking leftovers to Virginia?”

  “No, a family just walked in.”

  “We’re finished for the day. They should have come earlier.”

  “No, look.” She grabbed his wide shoulders and turned him toward the service window. “We have to feed them. Those kids look like they’re starving.”

  He looked around at the kitchen: sparkling clean, all food, pans, and utensils put away.

  “Please. We can’t turn them away,” she said.

  He leaned against the stainless steel table and looked down at her. His dark, penetrating eyes bore into her—that soul-deep gaze that always made her wonder what he was thinking.

  “Well?”

  “Well, okay. Give them something to drink and I’ll heat up what we have left.”

  She found five plastic cups on a shelf and a gallon of milk in the refrigerator, partially full, and hurried out to the dining room. Two of the children were crawling under the table while the third child sat as still as a stone, staring longingly at the milk. As soon as she filled the cups, the whole family drank greedily and she quickly gave them a refill. They slowed down and she went back into the kitchen to check on Brody’s progress.

  Within fifteen minutes, Brody, Kate, and Darla had heated up four heaping plates of food, including a small plate of mashed potatoes and carrots for the baby. Kate sat down across from the woman, spooning little helpings of vegetables into the baby’s mouth while his mother tucked into her own plate.

  As soon as the young family began to eat, Brody watched Kate talking with the woman and her children. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but noticed one child smiling at her while the other two laughed. What could she possibly be saying to make the dirty waifs laugh like that? Eventually, she reached forward and pulled the baby into her own lap, making an airplane spoon to occupy him and keep him eating. She looked so comfortable, natural, holding the baby, like she’d done it a hundred times. His impression of her as a hard-nosed career woman—definitely not the nurturing type—might not have been entirely fair.

  “Looks like Kate’s made some new friends.” Liza had silently sidled beside Brody, snapping him out of his musings.

  “Um, yeah.”

  “She looks like a real pro.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and walked back toward the sinks. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

  A half hour later, Kate carried the last of the dirty dishes from the dining room and dumped them beside the deep, stainless steel sink. Brody’s arms were plunged deep in the water and a mountain of dishes were piled in the rack, ready to dry. She picked up a towel and dug in.

  “So, did that family get filled up?” Brody stopped washing to arch the kinks out of his back, but kept his hands dangling in the water.

  “I think so. They seemed satisfied.” She picked up another plate and continued drying, remembering the desperation in their eyes. “I wish there was more I could do. Did you see her black eye?”

  “I did.”

  “She said she tripped on a rug and hit her eye on the newel post. Somehow I doubt it, don’t you?”

  “Possible, but not probable.”

  “Those kids, oh my gosh, I just wanted to take them home with me. Put them in the shower and give them some clean clothes. So sad. I think I’ll call the Department of Human Resources tomorrow and see if they can get some assistance. Obviously she’s being abused. Is there a women’s shelter around here?”

  He stopped washing dishes and dried his hands, concern shown on his face. “Is this something you should get involved with?”

  “Brody, did you see them? They need help.”

  “I know, but it could be dangerous.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if her husband is an angry, violent drunk? You don’t want to mess with someone like that.”

  “I’m just going to call to see if someone could check on them, maybe offer some services to her.” She resumed drying, stacking a plate on the towering pile. If she didn’t do something to help, she would never get their sad, hopeless faces out of her mind. “I know I shouldn’t get involved. I’m not going to be here much longer, remember? But the least I can do is ask someone who can.”

  FIFTEEN

  The next morning, Kate sat on the stairs and watched Travis test the door knob and lock. His long, thick dreadlocks were pulled back and secured with a leather string. She thought back to the morning in the market when he’d approached her about pineapples and she smiled to herself. If someone had told her that day he’d be inside Gram’s house installing a new lock in a little over a month, she would have adamantly denied it. She now considered him a friend.

  “Kate, this door knob and lock are fine, so all I need to do is install a deadbolt, and you’re good to go.” Travis dropped his tools into his canvas bag and stood up, tucking his Allman Brothers t-shirt into his faded jeans. “Let me get a deadbolt out of my truck and I’ll be right back.”

  News of recent and continued break-ins, plus Brody’s concerns over her getting involved with the battered woman and her children she’d met yesterday, had made calling Travis a number-one priority this morning. Besides, it would give her peace of mind knowing Gram would be more secure after she went back to Washington.

  Her laptop was opened and perched on her knees, and with several taps on the keyboard she found what she was looking for: West Virginia domestic violence laws. She’d barely slept last night, thinking about Ashley, the abused woman she’d met at the Thanksgiving dinner. She’d decided not to contact the authorities just yet for fear of Ashley losing the children. Instead, she planned to arm herself with the facts and pay a visit to the family.

  Travis returned and set to work installing the new lock while Kate kept up her research. Once the shrill whirring from his drill died down, she set her laptop aside and took the opportunity to get to know him better.

  “How long have you lived here Travis?”

  “My family moved here when I was thirteen.” H
e kept his back to her, pulling open the lock’s cardboard packaging. “My parents were school teachers, like Brody’s, and my dad came here to become a baseball coach at the high school.”

  “And you must have liked it.”

  “Yeah, I did, but due to some unplanned circumstances, I left town for a few years.”

  “Sounds mysterious.”

  “Not really. I got my girlfriend pregnant and joined the Air Force to support them.”

  “Must be something in the water.” She chuckled as she stepped down off the staircase. “That’s how I came to be, too.”

  “No kidding? Well, it happens.”

  “I didn’t know you had a child. Boy or girl?” She moved behind him and watched as he slid the deadbolt into the door.

  “A girl, Carly. She lives with her mom over on Hillcrest.”

  “Oh, she lives here. Do you see her often?”

  “All the time. Carly’s almost thirteen and comes over a lot. I officially have her every other weekend.”

  “And you and her mother? Get along well?”

  “Yeah, we’re friends. We were young and careless. No one was to blame.”

  “So you came back here after the service because of Carly?” She strolled over to the mantel and picked up a photo of her dad, mom, and herself as a toddler.

  “Yes and no. After the Air Force, I lived in Dallas and then Chicago. Worked as an airline mechanic. Thought I wanted the big city life. Then I spent time in Hawaii, but you already know that. There’s just something about Highland Springs. It’s home. Even if I didn’t have Carly, I would’ve come back.”

  “No regrets?” She set the picture back in its place, turning back to watch Travis at work.

 

‹ Prev