by Kim O'Brien
Ty’s eyes scanned the menu. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”
When the waitress left, Laney said ever so casually, “Did you play GI Joe with your brother?”
The last remnants of the smile he’d given the waitress faded from his face, leaving his features harsh. She could almost see him draw away from her without moving an inch. “As if you didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
Ty leaned forward until Laney could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Just do me a favor when you’re playing your election games—leave my brother out of it.”
Laney jumped on his words. “I’m not playing games.”
“Stop the concerned look, and tell your father you need acting lessons if you’re going to be believable.”
Laney decided to ignore the comment. She thought hard about the words in the note. He looked at her as if he hated her. This was fine with Laney. At least he was talking. “Something inside you is making you unhappy.” She took a deep breath. “You need to let it out. Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“In one word,” Ty stated flatly, “no.” His mouth twisted. “I came here to figure out what damage you can do to my campaign.”
Laney gritted her teeth. “This isn’t about the election. Tell me about your brother.” She calmed her voice and tried to think of an appropriate bribe. “I’ll give you the note after you tell me about him.”
She thought he would refuse. He appeared angry enough to pick her up, chair and all, and carry her out of the restaurant. Yet something deep in his eyes beyond the anger made her hold her ground. It was a flash of a bleakness of spirit, a glimpse of loneliness and vulnerability. The look vanished almost instantly, and she would have missed it altogether if it hadn’t been so familiar. It was a look she’d seen in the mirror hundreds of times and banished a hundred times.
Her heart gave a tug of sympathy. “Please,” she said. “I want to know.”
His hands lay on the table, his knuckles rising in huge balls of bone that seemed both capable of inflicting damage and swollen, as if they themselves hurt.
When he lifted his gaze, his eyes held a trace of defiance. She met his eyes and deliberately put her hands palm up on the table.
“His name was Mickey.” He looked up at her, but it was clear his mind was somewhere else. “He died three years ago.”
“How?”
“A school shooting. He saved a group of kids in the path of gunfire.”
Without thinking, Laney reached across the table and covered Ty’s fists with her hands. In less than a second, her fingers were comforting the tablecloth. Ty scowled at her, as if she’d tried to stab his hand with the butter knife. Covertly her fingers ran over her fingernails to test their points. The blunt tips reassured her she hadn’t inadvertently jabbed him.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” she said.
Ty’s eyes darkened. An odd light burned in them, as if he were about to play a trump card. “Can you explain why your God would let that happen to someone?”
Laney shook her head sadly. “No, but I do know He has a purpose for all of us and a plan for our lives.” She leaned closer to him. “You have to trust Him.”
Ty made a sound of disgust. “I’d prefer less mystery and a little clearer sign.”
“A sign?” Laney laughed. “Have you ever spent time with Him? He speaks to hearts. What do you want Him to do, beep you?”
As the words left her mouth, Ty’s beeper went off. Laughing in surprise, Laney watched him try to cover up his shock as he dug the beeper out of his jeans to check the message.
“There’s your sign.” Laney couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
He checked the number on the pager. “I have to make a phone call,” he said. “Be right back.”
Laney chuckled, for the first time realizing she had been right to come to the restaurant. She envisioned herself gently leading Ty back to the path of happiness, mending his broken heart. Perhaps they would even be friends. She would be the sister he’d never had.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, soaking up the moment. Lord, the credit is Yours. Even if Ty said nothing else the entire evening, the meeting would be a success. With God’s help, he would soon be surrounded by the love of God and his church family.
When she opened her eyes, Laney saw a tall, thin woman in a light-blue silk pantsuit entering the room on the arm of slightly bald man. Even in the dim lighting and from a distance, Laney recognized the woman. Her heart exploded into her chest as Tilly Weyeth, her future mother-in-law, paused. Tilly’s long nose pointed as accurately as a compass in Laney’s direction.
Laney slid lower in the seat until the stiff, white tablecloth touched her chin; then she took the final plunge and slithered over the edge of the seat onto her hands and knees.
She squeezed between two clay pots and peered through the palm leaves as Mother Tilly and her date, Malcolm Teeters, the president of Southwest Bank, made their way to the smoking section of the restaurant. Further crystallizing her faith in God, she watched them being seated in a booth that faced away from where she and Ty sat.
“Why, Laney, is that you behind the palm tree?”
She recognized the voice, and goose bumps erupted over her flesh. Turning slowly, still in a crouched position, Laney looked up into the amused blue eyes of Gertha Williams, Good Faith’s secretary and leader of the women’s Bible study group.
“Hello, Mrs. Williams,” Laney replied, reaching for her manners in the absolute horror of discovery. “It’s good to see you again.”
Five
Gertha Williams leaned as far forward on her chair as she could without falling. “Are you ill, dear?”
Laney tried to think of an acceptable reason to be squatting behind the palm trees. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Gertha leaned even more precariously forward until she teetered so visibly that Laney feared she might crash. “Is Rock with you tonight?” Without waiting for Laney’s reply, she added, “He always has such nice things to say to me at the coffee table after service.”
“Rock isn’t here tonight,” Laney said, hoping Gertha would leave it at that.
Now eye level with Laney, Gertha peered through the tropical plant. It took less than a minute for her to recognize Laney’s future mother-in-law and her date. Behind their black-rimmed frames, Gertha’s eyes fixed on Laney like blue headlights. “Are you spying on your mother-in-law?” Before Laney could answer, she continued in a shocked tone, “I knew you and Tilly weren’t close, but I had no idea things had deteriorated to this point.”
“I’m not spying on Mrs. Weyeth,” Laney whispered.
“Some people are like heavenly sandpaper,” Gertha noted wisely, quoting Pastor Bruce without attribution. “She’s been put in your path for a reason. She has a lesson to teach you.”
“Teach me?” Laney replied. “She doesn’t even like me.”
“Have you given her a chance?” She sighed. “Laney, we need to do some praying together.”
“I’m not here to spy on Mrs. Weyeth,” Laney whispered.
Gertha’s chair creaked alarmingly. “Then why are you crouching behind the tropical plants?”
Laney fought the guilty giggle that worked its way up her throat. “I’m here on church business,” she finally managed.
“Church business?” Gertha Williams looked puzzled. “I haven’t heard of any church business to take place here.” She pressed her lips together. “As the church secretary, I would know.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you without breaking someone’s confidence,” Laney said.
Gertha’s skin drained of color. She looked positively ill at the thought of something happening within the church that she didn’t know anything about. “Is it part of your Pets-n-Prayers ministry?”
“No.”
Gertha swallowed. “Is it evangelical?” She spoke the words so softly that Laney practically had to lip-read them. Besides her job as church se
cretary, Gertha also led the evangelical ministry.
“Sort of,” Laney said. “I really can’t say more than that.”
Gertha’s eyes stopped blinking. Her mind probably was racing through its data bank of people who might know about Laney’s evangelical mission at Miguel’s.
“I’ll pray for you,” Gertha said. “Just say the word, and the prayer chain begins.”
Laney had no choice except to consent gratefully. Besides, the way things were going, she needed all the help she could get. “Thanks very much,” she said.
A quick glance confirmed Ty had not returned to their table. Although she knew their business was far from over, she also knew she couldn’t stay. Not and keep her business with Ty Steele private. Not only was Gertha watching her every move, but all her future mother-in-law had to do was turn around and see her with Ty Steele.
And so, before Gertha could question her further, she hid her face in an open menu and left the restaurant.
Six
On Saturday evening, Laney had dinner at her father’s house.
“Sorry I’m late.” Laney slid into an empty seat at the dining room table. Angel jumped into her lap and looked hopefully at the chips and dip sitting in generous quantities on the antique mahogany table.
Her father fingered his gray, lariat-type moustache in silent disapproval. He stretched his wiry legs forward, which sent his chair scraping back from the table several inches. Laney recognized another sign of disapproval.
Rock leaned over to peck her cheek. “Hi, honey,” he said. He tried to smooth her hair but stopped when Angel growled. “Bad traffic?”
“A few late shoppers.”
Laney looked around the room at the group assembled. Her stomach tightened as she took in the sight of all her brothers seated in her father’s formal dining room.
Thomas, Laney’s youngest brother, sat at the head of the table, tapping the keys of a laptop. As always, his light brown hair lay in perfect alignment on his well-shaped head. His designer suit hugged the physique of a former high school soccer captain.
“I’ve called this emergency meeting because Dad has dropped another five points in the polls,” Thomas said. He extended a chrome-colored stylus to the computer-generated graph. “As you can read, we’ve been losing points ever since Ty Steele entered the race.” He tapped the wall. “We need to change Dad’s image.”
The slide changed to an image of Ty Steele. Laney shifted uneasily. Even one dimensional, Ty’s presence made her stomach tighten. She supposed this was fair, because he never looked too comfortable around her, either.
Thomas began reciting. “Hero at age nine when he saved his younger brother from drowning. High school valedictorian. Top ten of his class at Emory University. Law degree from the same school. Fifteen years of distinguished police work.”
Her dad waved his hand impatiently. “This is old news, Tommy. Get to the point.” Against doctor’s orders, he scooped up a pile of potato chips and stuffed them into his mouth.
“He’s young and has a good heart,” Thomas said bluntly. “Two things you don’t have.”
His father crunched a chip loudly. “I have wisdom and experience.”
“That and thirty cents will get you an operator on a pay phone,” Thomas said mildly.
The older man slammed his glass on the table. “When I hired your public relations firm, the last thing I expected was insults.” He glared at his son. “I want results.”
Richard, the oldest brother, stroked his hickory-colored goatee thoughtfully. “What about that wedding? There must have been something wrong with him for his fiancée to leave him standing at the altar.”
“I looked into that,” Thomas said. “While he was at the church, his fiancée was at his house loading up the wedding presents. She pretty much cleaned out the house.”
“So why can’t people see he’s an idiot?” Richard asked. “To let someone take advantage of him like that.”
Thomas shrugged. “All the world loves a fool for love, especially someone who looks like Steele. If anything it’s made him more popular.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes at his father. “If you want to win this election, we have to showcase your strengths.” A smile lifted the corners of Thomas’s well-molded lips. “Luckily I have a plan.” All eyes turned toward their youngest brother, who drew out the moment with a long pause.
“Think about it. Steele’s a single man, no local family ties. He’s a loner.” Thomas smiled at his father. “You’re a widower, and you’ve raised five children.”
“That’s yesterday’s news,” his father stated flatly.
“And tomorrow’s ace in the hole,” Thomas said unruffled. “In one week you’re going to make a speech at the dedication of the new municipal building. All the community leaders are going to be there.”
“Anybody in Destiny who gets a paycheck from the state of Texas will be there,” Rock said.
“Right,” Thomas agreed. “That’s why you need to stand out. People need to be clear that you’re a family man.” He pointed his stylus triumphantly. “The person to convey that is Laney.”
Shocked silence followed. Thomas’s smile widened. “Laney is going to be our secret weapon.”
A cry went up from around the table.
“You mean our Laney is going to give a speech?” Richard’s eyes bulged in disbelief.
“Laney? Are you crazy?” added Laney’s brother Joseph, a shorter version of their father. “Don’t you remember the school play when a mouse crawled out of her pocket and all the kids ran off the stage screaming?”
“That was a long time ago,” Thomas argued. “We need to emphasize that a vote for G. C. Varner is a vote for family values. People will eat it up.”
“It’s risky,” Greg Varner pointed out. “Laney has a great heart, but she’s the kind of person who rescues a kitten and gives everyone in the family fleas.” Greg shot Laney an apologetic look.
“I agree,” Richard said. “I have the flea bites to vouch for it.”
“The future of my public relations firm is riding on this election.” Thomas cleared his throat loudly. “I wouldn’t gamble my business unless I was sure Laney could do it.”
Rock raised his glass. “I agree. I propose a toast to the success of Thomas’s campaign.” He blew a kiss at Laney and winked at Thomas. “What a great way to introduce Laney to the general public.”
The eagerness in Rock’s eyes told Laney he was thinking about his future political career. He dreamed of becoming the mayor, a vision he shared often and in detail with her. Once, to her embarrassment, they had even stood out on her deck and practiced waving at imaginary people.
Looking around, she felt the familiar tug to show her family she had what it took to be a Varner. Yet she felt obligated to help Ty Steele. She’d found his note. Now she simply couldn’t turn her back on him just because the timing wasn’t convenient.
“Laney, you’re my only girl.” Her father spoke quietly, but his voice carried clearly in the silent room. “I know you like to play with the animals at the pet shop, but the plain truth is that I need your help.”
There had been times in Laney’s life when she thought her father would rather bleed to death than ask for anything, particularly from her. She looked long and hard at the lines on her father’s face and frowned at the thinness of his gray hair.
Being a sheriff meant everything to him. Without the job, some essential part of him might die. He wasn’t the type to sit home and watch ball games on TV. He had no hobbies, and his friendships grew out of work.
As her glance widened to include her brothers, she saw the open skepticism on their faces. They saw her as their little sister, softhearted and scatterbrained. Here was an opportunity to show how wrong they were.
Thomas cleared his throat, gently prodding her for an answer. Words either to accept or decline clogged her throat.
Beside her, Rock vibrated with excitement. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he shot t
o his feet, spilling iced tea from his raised glass.
“Of course she’ll do it!” Rock cried. “A toast to the star of G. C.’s campaign!”
As everyone toasted Laney’s success, Angel heaved a long-suffering sigh. Putting his head on his front paws, the little dog closed his eyes as if to say it was all too much for him.
Seven
When Ty Steele left work Monday evening, Laney tailed him in her minivan. Although Angel insisted on hanging his head out the driver’s seat window and the engine ran more roughly than usual, she was pretty sure Ty didn’t spot her.
She’d planned to follow him home and then continue the discussion that had been interrupted at Miguel’s. But when he pulled into the Kroger’s supermarket, she parked several rows away and went inside.
Spying from the bakery, Laney watched Ty place an order at the deli. She pictured his solitary dinner—a roast beef sandwich eaten while he stood over the kitchen sink in an empty house where the loudest noise might be the hum of the refrigerator.
Laney knew too much about empty apartments. She’d discovered a long time ago that no matter how comfortable she made her home or how many pillows she placed on the sofa, when she settled down for the night, there always seemed to be a hard lump. The lump, she had come to realize, was loneliness.
Ty added a bag of whole wheat bread to his cart and headed for the produce section. From behind the banana display, she smiled as he picked out a tomato, gently weighing each one in his large hand before he made his choice.
Although he still looked like a tough guy, the sight of him with a fat red tomato in his hand tugged at her heart. It made him seem more of a solitary figure than ever. The words to his note ran through her head, strengthening her resolve to reach out to him.
In the pasta aisle, while Ty selected boxed macaroni and cheese, Laney crouched by the shelves of rice. Although the shelf held nearly every variety of grain, Laney wasn’t looking for rice. She was looking for guidance.
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the background music. Okay, Lord, she prayed, here we are, aisle two in Kroger’s. I’m not sure whether it’s best to jump out from behind the canned soup display or keep tailing him.