“I’m a pretty good judge of people. It will be fine, I can tell. Now as to Z’s tastes, he’s sort of particular, so you probably should ask him what he wants for this thing.”
“Okay… sure. So which of us is to keep him up to date?”
“You.”
“Okay then. Talk to you later,” Memphis said, standing up to leave. She looked back after she had gotten outside, meeting the eyes of Marisa, staring back at her.
#
Saturday
It was closing in on seven, and Z was seated on his deck, alone, enjoying the end of the day, about to dive into his dinner. Meredith was gone, and who knew what or where she’d gotten off to, back to her and her free spirit thing. He didn’t care or mind. He turned his thoughts to Jones. It’s what he did now when he had free mental space, unwittingly at first, less so now, and growing the more he learned of her.
He was impressed with how she handled things. Didn’t ruffle easily. Took meeting with Marisa well and finding out that she wasn’t going to lead with more than a bit of grace, at least outwardly. Everything in stride was Jones.
He looked up at the sound of a car approaching, pulling into the parking area in front of his home. He didn’t recognize it; however, he did recognize the woman that stepped out of it minutes later. It was Aubrey.
She waved, smiled, and then was en route to him. She’d called him yesterday, a surprised as he hadn’t seen or heard from her since camp. She said she’d heard he was helping Jones. No, he didn’t have any more time to train anyone else, he’d told her. A quick answer to a quick question, but the conversation continued; all her, of course, while he’d mostly listened, and when he’d had enough, made some excuse to go. He wasn’t feeling her, had never felt her, had been bothered by the ease and delight in which she, a friend, had shared Jones’s problems and secrets with him. He placed a high value on his friendships, more so than apparently she did.
She was attractive, he’d give her that. Pretty wearing a dress that flattered; conservative, but nice; body contouring, falling softly over a slim figure.
“I’ve always admired this deck, driving by it on my way to camp. Would you believe I miss camp?” she said, smiling, stepping onto the first step, and then the next one, and over to stand across the table from him. “Hi,” she said, shyly.
“Hi,” he said.
“What am I doing here is what you’re thinking,” she said and smiled shyly again. “To be truthful, I don’t know the answer to that question. I was done for the day, visiting a customer nearby, and I thought of you. It was nice talking to you yesterday, and before I knew it, my car was pointed in this direction and, well, here I am,” she said, her mouth lifted in a small smile. “You’re quiet, so maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she said after a bit of silence that was starting to turn awkward.
He sat staring at her a second more before he answered. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked.
“That would be great, if you don’t mind. If I’m not interrupting.”
“No, it’s just dinner. I don’t mind. I am going to have to kick you out afterward, though,” he said with a smile. “Work, and it’s back to the studio. I have a deadline to meet,” he said.
“No, I understand, this is more than I expected,” she said.
“Let me get you a plate. What would you like to drink?”
“Water’s fine,” she said, pointing to the pitcher on the table.
“Be back in a second,” he said. Aubrey took a seat in the chair across from his, her gaze following his departure. He was moving around his kitchen; she could see him through the French door, pleased that she’d made the decision to stop by, crazy irritated with herself for not doing it sooner, particularly after she’d learned that he was training Memphis. What was up with that? No way could he choose M over her, so she’d decided another talk with him was in order, and had called him yesterday. He couldn’t fit her into his training schedule, but that it didn’t mean he wasn’t interested. He’d lingered on the phone afterward, listening to her, so maybe he was shy or something, and now see, her aggression her yielded her a dinner invite.
“Thank you, this looks delicious,” she said, admiring the plate of food he placed in front of her. Silverware, cloth napkin; who was this guy?
“Sea bass, rice pilaf, and veggies,” he said, taking his seat again.
“You are so many things, and all of them good,” she said, looking at him, not even going to hide her desire.
He chuckled but didn’t respond beyond that, just held her gaze, and oddly she fought against the desire to squirm. He was handsome, sitting across from her, at home in a t-shirt and shorts, feet bare, beautiful greenish brown eyes staring back at her. She fought against fanning herself.
“So how’s training with Memphis? I forgot to ask you that when I called. Is she improving?”
“She is,” he said, smiling. It was a small smile, as if he had some private memory that he was seeing in his mind again. It irritated her to see it on his face.
“She has always needed help of some kind, for as long as we’ve known each other. She and her family,” she said, the same irritation causing those words to come bubbling out. He met her gaze, not that it mattered. She’d always had trouble reading this one.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“They were poor, you know. Not that there’s anything wrong with being poor. They moved in the house next to mine, rented it, to the dismay of the others in our neighborhood, including my parents. It was a nice neighborhood too, where we grew up: middle income, good schools, which was the reason they moved in, that’s what her parents told mine. Wanted good schools for their kids,” she said, taking a bite of her food. “This is so good,” she said.
“Glad you like it.”
“Her dad was a musician, played the sax and her mother stayed home with her and her younger sisters. Her dad was always practicing on his sax out in their garage and M would sit at this little chair and table he’d built for her, and listen to him play, pretend that she was in the audience of a fancy club. M was the ultimate daddy’s girl.
“Her father took side gigs when he could, worked odd jobs when he couldn’t. He died of pancreatic cancer; he found out too late to do anything about it. Not that he could. It’s a hard cancer to beat and even harder without insurance. I’ve always been friends but we became really close after that.”
“That’s an interesting story,” he said.
“It is. It’s the reason I took her under my wing. I’ve always had to watch out for her.”
“That was nice of you.”
“I do what I can. We have to do what we can for those in need, that’s what my mother taught me growing up. She grew up in the south, Mississippi, and she grew up knowing that she would always have to help some people,” she said.
“It’s a good lesson to learn,” he said, sitting back in his chair, watching and listening, his gaze and focus solely on the woman seated across from him.
Aubrey sat up straighter, smiled at him. He was listening so intently to her story, which meant he was listening so intently to her. She smiled again. “We are alike, you and I. We like to help others, the less fortunate, you know?” she said.
“So you and Jones are both insurance agents?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. She went into the business first. Her family’s lack of insurance was the main motivation, the reason she was attracted to the business in the first place, and after her dad’s death, her mother worked for a while, but eventually her depression left her unable to leave the bed, so really Memphis didn’t have much of a choice. Someone had to do something to bring money in. Her aunt, her mom’s sister came to live with them to keep Child Protective Services away, but really, they were better off without her.
“Memphis grew close to one of our neighbors, Billie. She was an insurance agent that gave M her first job. She worked part time, weekends, and in the summers. Then after her mom committed suicide, M dropped out
of school, got her GED and went into the insurance business full time. As it turns out, she has a knack for it. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life so eventually I tried it too.”
“So you’ve always been friends.”
“We have and that’s not easy. Memphis can be a little bit odd,” she said, continuing to eat while he watched her.
“Really. In what way?”
“First there was the thing with her falling all over the place, turning into the class clown to hide it, always making jokes. She went from class clown to acting like a grown-up after she left school. It wasn’t always easy being her friend, but I did and it’s as her friend that I can say this to you. You should be careful not to encourage her while you train her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she likes you.”
“She’s told you that?”
“No, but I know her enough to know, and that’s surprising, really. She’s usually only interested in African American men. You are the first non-African American male she’s shown an interest in, which is why I’m telling you this. I don’t want to see her hurt. She’s been hurt a lot in life, so I don’t have the heart to tell her that you’re not interested in her.”
“I’m not?”
“No, of course not, but you know, they think you might be.”
“Who are they?”
“You know,” she whispered, looking at him through her lashes.
“Nope, sorry, I don’t,” he said, smiling and it was nice to see him smile, she thought.
“Don’t make me say it. You’ll think I’m racist or something.”
“Are you?”
“No, not at all, however I do think that men prefer those that look like them. I’ve see pictures of the women you date, on the Internet, and they don’t look anything like Memphis.”
“Right,” he said, which seemed to be the perfect response.
She smiled and leaned forward. “I knew you thought like me. Some of us, white people I mean, are married to them, and how is that possible? Some white men even prefer them exclusively, and what is that about?” she asked.
“No idea,” he said.
“I mean it’s okay to be friends, but marriage is something else. I’m glad you understand. I thought you would.”
“Me too,” he said.
“I don’t know why we don’t hang out together more,” she said, switching the subject, tired of discussing Memphis.
“You’re going to be on the Ballerz team, and we have that rule,” he said.
“No one has to know,” she said.
“They’d find out sooner or later.”
“I don’t have to play football then.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re too good not to. What kind of coach would I be if I put my needs above the team’s?” he said, smiling.
She returned it. Glad to see it, otherwise she’d have no clue to what he was thinking. He was a tough to read, with or without those shades.
“Maybe after the season then?”
“Maybe,” he said, and he smiled again. “I’d better get going or I’ll fall behind with work. You done here?”
“Yes. I could stay and help if you want.”
“No, I work better alone, but thanks,” he said.
“Oh, sure,” she said, standing up too. “Thanks for feeding me,” she said.
“No problem. I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, walking around to her side of the table. He pulled out her chair.
“A gentleman,” she said, smiling. “You can call if your schedule opens up or if you want to hang out. I’m open to that too,” she said. They’d reached her car and she was sliding behind the wheel.
“Thanks,” he said, closing her door. She lowered her window.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said.
He smiled, waved as she backed out and headed the short distance to the end of his drive. In a few more minutes she was gone.
#
Memphis knocked on the front door of Charlotte’s home later on that afternoon. She’d driven straight over from Marisa’s shop to apprise her sister of this latest Z development. It was her niece answering the door today, looking beautiful.
“Hey, Auntie Memphis.”
“Hey, sweetie. Where’s your mom?”
“In the back, talking to Auntie Alex. My dad is taking me to a birthday party,” she said, smiling and clearly dressed for it.
“Hello, Memphis,” Joshua said, standing behind his daughter now, holding a gift wrapped in sparkling pink paper.
“Hey, brother-in-law,” Memphis said.
“Sorry I can’t stay, but as you can see I’m in charge of getting this one to a party, so I’ll see you later,” he said, smiling and skirting around Memphis.
She watched them until they were in the car and pulling out of the driveway. She found everyone else in the family room. Alex sat on the couch, beside the two boys, watching them play a video game, while Charlotte sat off to the side, in another chair, feeding Simone.
“Hey,” Memphis said, smiling as they looked up.
“Hey yourself,” Alex said.
“Am I glad to see you. Usually Alex and her talk of football would be driving me crazy by now, but she’s quiet today. I didn’t know she could be quiet,” Charlotte said, turning her gaze to Memphis, concern in her eyes. “So, what’s up with you, how are things going with our Coach Z?” Charlotte asked.
“Good, I think. He’s giving me this new assignment,” she said, sliding into the spot on the other side of the boys, before she detailed her trip to Bastrop and her meeting with Marisa. “It was my idea to do more, I asked actually. One more Saturday and I’ll be finished organizing his office. Helping with the opening was his idea. I’ll be working with a friend of his, sort of like her assistant.”
“He does know you’re not anyone’s assistant, right, that you run an insurance agency all by your lonesome,” Charlotte said.
“He knows and I don’t always have to be in charge. She also knows him better than I do, so that’s helpful.”
“He must think you’re trustworthy, right. A man doesn’t turn over something so important to just anybody. You have time for this and training?” Charlotte asked.
“I do,” Memphis said.
“He doesn’t want to stop,” Charlotte said.
“What?”
“He wants you around,” Charlotte said, smiling now like she knew some secret. Not that she did; Charlotte just had this way of being, like she knew all the secrets of the universe or something. As the mother of four, maybe she thought she knew all things motherly.
“I was hopeful like you once, but those thoughts are so gone now. His friend is still around. I heard them this morning, bright and early in the shower,” she said, chuckling at the expressions on her sisters’ faces, identical visages of shock.
“I never said he was a saint, just that the women on the Ballerz team were off-limits,” Alex said, breaking her silence. She’d been listening in apparently.
“She speaks,” Charlotte said, shooting a glance at Alex.
“You stayed to listen?” Alex asked, ignoring Charlotte’s teasing.
“No,” Memphis said, laying her outrage on thick. “I mean I heard some of it, took me a minute to figure out what was going on, but as soon as I did, I put on my music and went to work.”
“You can give up, but I haven’t. He has you around for a reason. You mean more than you think,” Charlotte said.
“Sure, that’s it,” Memphis said, eyeing Alex again. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Alex said.
“You don’t seem fine. You’re too quiet. You sure you’re okay?” Memphis asked again.
“Yes, I’m sure, just tired,” she said, rolling her eyes. The conversation between them shifted to other topics, and it was another relaxing Saturday evening spent in the company of her sisters.
#
Sunday
Z stood outside his side deck, soaking up the sun as h
e waited for Alex to arrive. Once a week she made her way out to his place to train, all to become the best QB possible. Today it was weight room training, strength training, and a little bit of foot work.
There she was now, her small truck driving past. She waved, which he returned, deciding to stay put for a bit longer and finish his cup of coffee before heading back to join her. No need to rush. She still had warm-ups to do before he was needed.
The sound of another auto approaching captured his attention, pulling it back to the entrance to his drive. Another truck, blue with a silver stripe on the side, and unfamiliar to him, pulled in and stopped. He walked around to the end of the deck to get a better look. Whoever it was continued to sit, idling. He started down the steps toward it.
He was at the beginning of the path that would take him to the front parking area, when the truck backed out. Male, maybe; slim, slight in stature, hat pulled low was all he could make of the driver’s features. Curious it was. He’d made note of the license plate to run by his buddy over in the sheriff’s department if it turned into something.
He closed and locked the gate, his instinct driving him. And better safe than sorry anyway, he thought, and then it was over to his home and out back to Alex. He found her running around the track. “Hey,” he said, coming to a stop beside her.
“Hey,” she said, slowing to a stop.
“You notice anything on your way in, anybody driving behind you?”
“Why?” she said, her face a mask of fear and quickly shuttered.
“Wait, what’s up? You alright?”
“A white truck?” she asked.
“No, blue with a silver stripe on the side. I haven’t seen it before and people get lost out here all the time, so maybe it was nothing. You know this truck?”
“No.”
“But you know something. And it’s important.”
She looked away, lost in her thoughts for a second, as if deciding something. “I used to live with this guy, back in Houston, and he didn’t want me to leave,” Alex said, meeting his gaze. The need to tell someone other than her sisters was overwhelming. She should tell them, she knew, just as she also knew they’d worry, and they’d want her to move in with them, which she wouldn’t do under any circumstances. She loved her freedom too much, had worked too hard to gain it. She could trust Z. She felt it in her gut. Everything he did pointed to this really good guy, and so she continued. “It’s been a year and a half, and I’ve started a new life.”
The Odd Ballerz Page 23