by Sue Pethick
“Hey, it’s Travis. Are you busy?”
The woman in the parking lot started backing out of her space.
“Sort of. I’m at the mall, waiting for a parking spot. What’s up?”
“Have you made up your mind about Saturday?”
Renee sighed. The short answer was no, she hadn’t. Since he’d asked her, in fact, she’d been changing her mind on pretty much an hourly basis. This didn’t feel like the right time to be making a firm decision one way or the other.
“Hold on a second.”
As the other car drove off, she pulled into the space and turned off the engine.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said. “I’m really flattered that you’d ask me, but I have a long day at work tomorrow, and when I say I have nothing to wear, I’m really not kidding.”
“What about the outfit you were wearing at the salon? That looked fine to me.”
She shook her head in exasperation, smiling in spite of herself. He certainly was persistent.
“Maybe to you, but I doubt anyone at the ceremony would agree. Anyway,” she said, reaching for her purse, “I don’t have time to talk about it right now. I just got to the mall, and if I don’t get in there fast, my kids will get nothing they want for Christmas.”
“What a coincidence,” he said. “I’m at the mall myself. Tell you what. Why don’t I help you do your shopping while you think about it?”
Renee laughed.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, I’m serious. Come on, you’ve got two boys, right? Believe me, I know all the stuff boys want these days.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
“Fine. Meet me in front of Belk’s in five minutes. Good luck finding a parking place.”
Inside, the mall was almost worse than the parking lot had been. Holiday music blared from unseen speakers, and anxious shoppers scampered from store to store while screeching, crying children waited in line to see Santa Claus. As Renee stepped into the crowd, it felt as though she was being pushed along by a strong, unseen current. There was nothing to do but go with it and try not to be overrun.
Travis was sitting on a bench in front of Belk, grinning at Renee as she approached.
“How’d you get here so fast?” she said, breaking free of the mob.
“Trade secret.”
“Come on.”
He pointed to the bags sitting on the floor behind him.
“You’re not the only one with Christmas shopping to do.”
She glanced at the bags and saw the names of some high-end stores.
“Generous guy. What’d you get?”
“Presents for the office staff and a couple for my brother, Hugh.”
“I don’t remember your telling me you had a brother.”
“Didn’t I?” he said. “I must have forgotten.”
He reached down and picked up the bags.
“Okay. Where to first?”
Their first stop was at Claire’s to get a pair of birthstone studs for McKenna’s newly pierced ears, then off to Sephora for a ten-dollar gift certificate.
“Girls wear makeup in middle school?”
Renee rolled her eyes at him.
“Times change, Gramps.”
“Hey, thirty-eight isn’t old.”
He frowned.
“What? How old did you think I was?”
“I don’t know,” Renee said, embarrassed that her surprise had been so obvious.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s the grey, isn’t it?”
“No! Well, maybe, but it looks good.”
“I was going for ruggedly handsome,” he said. “But I guess ‘good’ will suffice. Where to next?”
Renee smiled at him, thinking that “ruggedly handsome” was just about right.
“GameStop,” she said. “I need something for Kieran.”
They stepped back into the surging crowd and emerged five minutes later in front of the electronic game store. As they walked through the door, Renee felt immediately overwhelmed by the number and variety of titles on the shelves.
“Did he give you a list?” Travis said.
She showed it to him.
“What kind of platform is he using?”
Renee gave him a blank look.
“The machine he plays the games on.” Travis smirked. “Now who’s the fogey?”
“Oh, that,” she said. “Their dad bought the kids an Xbox.”
“Okay, then. You take that half of the store; I’ll take this half, and we’ll see if any of these are left.”
Renee headed down the first aisle, looking for any of the titles on Kieran’s list. There were lots of different games, for different ages and different interests, and they all seemed to need different devices to play them on, but not a single title was one that her son had asked for. Thinking she might find something else that would interest him, she wandered over to the section marked E for Everyone, picked one at random, and started reading the description on the back.
Comic Mischief, Mild Cartoon Violence . . .
Travis walked up, shaking his head.
“Couldn’t find a single one.”
He looked at the cartridge in her hands.
“Wipeout in the Zone? That isn’t on the list.”
“I know,” she said. “I couldn’t find anything either.”
She handed him the box.
“What do you think of this?”
Travis turned it over and started reading the description on the back.
“How old is Kieran?”
“Nine.”
“He into dodgeball, stuff like that?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s find something else, then.”
He put the game back on the shelf.
“What does he like to do in his free time? Does he play sports? Have any hobbies?”
What did Kieran like to do? Renee thought. Collect hair? Count his steps? Neaten up his already spotless room?
“It’s hard to say. He’s sort of an odd kid.”
He nodded. “Nine’s an odd age.”
She swallowed, feeling her stomach clench. Once she told Travis anything about her younger son, the only question would be how quickly the guy would run off.
Well, too bad, she thought angrily. Kieran was a good kid who was doing his best. If Travis Diehl—or anyone else—couldn’t handle that, then they could go take a hike.
“He likes to count things,” she said, feeling more than a little defensive. “And he—he collects things and enjoys keeping them in order.”
Travis’s face lit up.
“In that case,” he said. “I know the perfect game for him. Come on.”
Renee was stunned.
He actually smiled. Who’d a thunk?
Caught off guard, she had to hurry after him as Travis strode away. Where were they going? she wondered. They’d already left the “E” section. He wasn’t proposing she give Kieran an adult game, was he?
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“Do you mind if the game is pre-owned?”
“Uh, no. I guess not,” she said. “But I mean, it’s a gift.”
He stopped at the counter and told the clerk what he was looking for. As the man walked off, Travis turned and looked at Renee.
“Let’s see what kind of shape it’s in, then you can decide if you want it.”
The clerk returned and handed her a box. Renee peered at the title.
“Tetris Evolution?”
“It’s the perfect game for a kid who likes to put things in order. My brother Hugh plays it all the time.”
Renee was intrigued. She turned it over. The box was in good shape, she thought, practically brand-new. If Travis hadn’t told her, she’d never have known it was used.
“Are you sure it’s appropriate for a nine-year-old?”
“Positive,” he said. “There’s no blood and guts, no questionable behavior. The theme song will drive yo
u nuts after a while, but I could buy you some earplugs.”
“It’s perfect,” she said. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Great. How about coming with me tomorrow?”
Renee gave him an exasperated look. Why was he doing this? There must be dozens of women in Bolingbroke who would gladly go with him. She told herself she should just say no and put an end to it.
And yet . . .
And yet, she was flattered. More than that, she felt that maybe—just maybe—Travis Diehl thought that there was something special about her. Something he hadn’t found in any of those other women. The idea made her feel warm and silly and scared, all at the same time.
“Well?” he said.
She shrugged and gave him a wry smile.
“All right, but I’ll have to meet you there. If my last appointment runs late, I don’t want everyone to blame me for delaying the guest of honor.”
CHAPTER 17
The moment school let out, Kieran hurried toward the parking lot, trying to make it look like he was taking the bus home so he could throw Cody off his scent. By the time the first bus passed him, he was already halfway down the street, head down, shoulders hunched.
He was heading for the woods, hoping to find Rex. When Kieran had shown up the day before, the dog hadn’t been there, and he was worried that he might have scared it off. He thought his plan might have worked if he’d been able to buy a real collar and leash, but there’d been no way to get those things without his mom finding out, and he didn’t want her to say no without giving the dog a chance. As he hurried along, he held the piece of fur in his hand like a talisman. Even if Rex didn’t want to be his dog, Kieran thought, he hoped they could at least be friends.
The box in his backpack was thumping painfully against his spine as he hurried down the road, breaking the boy’s concentration as he tried to think of another way to lure the dog out of the woods. Kieran stopped and took out his hair collection, then slung the backpack over his shoulder and continued on. Better to carry the box in his hands, he thought, than to wind up with a bruised back.
It felt as if he’d been walking forever by the time Kieran passed the last house. The first time he’d gone into the woods he’d been running from Cody, and since then, the anticipation of seeing the dog had made him oblivious to the distance it was from school. Now, though, he almost dreaded the thought of getting to the woods. If Rex wasn’t there this time, Kieran feared he might just be gone for good. He saw the place where they’d first met up ahead, but Rex wasn’t waiting for him. As far as he could tell, there was no one around.
He heard a rustling in the bushes, and Kieran almost sobbed in relief. Rex was there; he hadn’t run away. They could still be best friends, and maybe someday, the two of them would even walk the rest of the way home together. Clutching his hair collection tightly to his chest, he hurried forward to see how Rex was doing.
A dark silhouette stepped out of the woods.
“What took you so long, freak?”
Kieran held back a cry of dismay. How had Cody gotten there before him? He’d thought he was so smart, slipping away unnoticed, and all the time his enemy had been lying in wait.
Cody stepped out onto the berm, his hands balled into fists, and his face twisted into an ugly sneer. Kieran felt rooted to the spot. What good would it do to run? Cody was bigger and faster than he was. The only reason Kieran had outrun him before was because Cody had been afraid to follow him into the woods. Now, however, it seemed that fear had been overcome. As the bigger boy raised his fist, Kieran cringed, waiting for the blow to connect. Instead, Cody snatched the box out of his hands.
“What’s this?” he said, tossing the lid on the ground. “Looks like a bunch of junk.”
“Don’t,” Kieran said, reaching for the box. “Please. I’ve got everything in order.”
Cody reached in, grabbed a handful of plastic bags, and squeezed them between his fat fingers. As one of them burst, Kieran flinched.
“This is nothing but trash,” he said. “What are you doing with a box full of trash? Are you a trash man?”
Kieran felt tears welling as panic rose up in his chest. His hair! All the hair he’d collected since he was a little kid was being thrown on the ground like so much rubbish. He watched, horrified, as Cody took every bag out of the box, threw them all on the ground, and stomped them underfoot. He wasn’t just getting the bags out of order, he was destroying them! Kieran balled his small fists in frustration, wishing he was bigger so he could give the bully what he deserved.
Cody saw the tiny bunched hands and laughed.
“You think you can hurt me?” He threw the box into the ditch. “Think again, weirdo.”
He grabbed Kieran’s coat and jerked him forward. He stumbled and fell. Kieran felt the gravel tear into his palms and wished he’d put on the gloves that were still in his pocket. He struggled to his feet and stood tall, his back to the woods, then closed his eyes and waited for the gut punch that was coming. His palms were bloody and his knees stung, but he refused to beg for mercy.
Cody took a step toward him, then paused and looked around.
“What was that?”
Kieran had heard it, too: the rustle of bushes followed by a low, menacing growl. He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Cody’s eyes widened.
“What the—?”
Kieran heard something crashing through the bushes, then a huge grey shape launched itself out of the woods and landed in front of him. Cody scrambled backward as the dog stood, snarling and barking, the fur along its backbone stiff. Kieran was in too much shock to move. He could only stand, agape, as Rex stood his ground.
“Call your dog off!” Cody screamed. “Call him off!”
Kieran shook his head.
“I can’t. He’s not my dog.”
“Then why’s he coming after me?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe he doesn’t like you.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t like him, either,” Cody said, braver now that he’d put some distance between them. “You’ll be sorry for this. I’m gonna tell my dad.”
But the brave talk was just that and when the dog barked again, Cody turned and ran, skittering on a patch of ice as he scrambled away.
Kieran was amazed. Cody Daniels was actually afraid of something! He looked over at the dog, who’d begun to settle as soon as the bully ran off. The fur on its back flattened again, and the stiffness in its limbs relaxed. Issuing one final growl in Cody’s direction, it returned to Kieran and nuzzled his hand.
Kieran beamed.
“That was awesome!”
CHAPTER 18
Wendell sat at the kitchen table on Saturday morning, drinking his third cup of coffee and fretting over this new wrinkle in his matchmaking plans. For the last five days, Renee had been giddier than a schoolgirl over someone named Travis Diehl. Every other word out of her mouth was, “Travis this,” and “Travis that,” and tonight, she was meeting him at some big to-do after work. Never mind that she’d sworn it was nothing serious, he thought. Wendell might be getting old, but he wasn’t senile.
If only the boys down at Clint’s had mentioned this Diehl character when the subject of eligible bachelors was being discussed, he’d be fine with it, but the man’s name had never come up. Either those old guys had been holding out on him or this fella wasn’t as available as Renee thought he was. Either way, he wasn’t going to just sit by and wait for his little girl to get her heart broken again. Whatever it took, he was going to get the lowdown on Travis Diehl. The question was: How?
Wendell got up and started clearing away the breakfast dishes while he worked on a plan. Asking the boys at Clint’s for help would be tricky; Butch’s failure had dampened their enthusiasm, and Wendell wasn’t in the mood to jolly them up. Besides, who knew if that bunch even had any information to give? If they hadn’t said anything about this Diehl character before, it might just mean they had nothing to say. Neverthele
ss, it was worth a shot, and if he did come up empty-handed, he could always head over to Joe’s for a trim and a bit of friendly snooping. Lucky pennies could turn up in the strangest places.
He got dressed, told the kids he’d be back in a couple of hours, and headed out the door.
* * *
Midmorning was always a slow time at Clint’s, and the parking lot was almost empty when Wendell arrived. A couple of the boys’ cars were parked around back, though, and that was the important thing. He went inside to see what was going on.
The “boys” was a misnomer, of course. At sixty-nine, Wendell was one of the younger men who stopped by Clint’s every day to palaver over a cup of coffee, a meal, or a friendly game of cards before picking up some items from the small grocery section in front. The eponymous Clint had passed away years before, and the place had changed hands several times, but the store had been a fixture in Bolingbroke for so long that changing the name would have been unthinkable. Its current owner, Maggie McRay, was a widow who’d bought the place with the proceeds from her late husband’s life insurance.
Jim, Ted, and Bill were playing penny ante poker at their regular table in back, and Maggie was at the counter writing the dinner specials on a chalkboard, her lank grey hair pulled back in a haphazard bun. When Wendell came in, she looked up and pushed a wayward strand out of her face, giving him a smile as he walked by. He poured himself a cup of decaf from the self-serve carafe and took a seat at the table. Ted dealt him in without looking up.
“Just a couple of hands,” Wendell said, setting a handful of change on the table. “Gotta get back to keep an eye on the grandkids.”
The men checked their cards and anted up, then drew from the pile as needed. Wendell, who’d been dealt a pair of fours, threw three cards away, hoping for a full house, and settled for three of a kind. He tossed two pennies in the pot.
“I’ll raise.”
“I’ll call,” Bill said, tossing in another two.
Jim put down his cards. “I’m out.”
Wendell grimaced. “Really? You can’t risk two goddamn pennies?”
“Not with this hand. I’m on Social Security.”