Tank knew perfectly well why she was out there. He just wondered where she’d go when it came time for him to leave.
“Thanks again for your help,” John extended his hand and Tank shook it. “We’re doing this all day tomorrow and Saturday if you’d like to join us; next week is a little uncertain with the holiday.”
“Oh, Thanksgiving!” Maddy exclaimed. “I need to talk to Otis.” She made a note on her pad. “Tank, you and your sister are more than welcome. Or maybe you have family close by?”
“Family’s in Connecticut. Not really sure what I’m, or we’re doing.”
“Well, it’ll be informal here, but we’d love to have you.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to Grace and see what her plans are,” he replied, a little unnerved by Maddy’s kindness.
“Meanwhile, there’s an apartment to frame,” Frank reminded him. “Feel free to stop by here anytime. We’ll find something for you to do.”
“I will,” Tank grinned.
***
She was absolutely frozen, but wasn’t about to go back inside until she was sure Tank had left. Since he wasn’t very sociable, she figured she shouldn’t have to wait long, but something kept her from walking back into the house.
‘Something’ walked out onto the porch a moment later. Great. Why couldn’t he have left through the front door like a normal person? Apparently, he’d walked, and now she had to talk to him. It had been almost three weeks since they’d stood in just about the same place, only she’d been on the porch and he’d been on the beach with Burt. Weird role reversal, that means absolutely nothing. She crossed her arms, trying not to look cold. Her heels kept sinking into the sand. She hoped she didn’t tip over.
Burt, the traitor, ran right up to Tank, who sauntered down the steps to greet him. He would saunter, Mr. ‘I’m just as comfortable here as you are.’ Becky pulled her heels loose and eased around the two of them while they had their little reunion. If she could get up a few of the stairs, he wouldn’t look so big.
Tank turned as she got to the second step. “Cold enough for you?”
She swallowed a shudder. “Yep.”
“You’re teaching at the high school?”
Oh, it was Conversation Tank. How did she get so lucky? “Yes.”
“Teaching ...”
“French.”
He looked up in surprise. “Thought you were an artist.”
“I am.” It was kind of fun responding in ‘Tank speak’ - minimal information, with absolutely no encouragement.
“Huh. You want him?”
“Want who?”
“Whom.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” He pushed Burt toward her. “Go on, boy.”
Becky took a hold of Burt’s collar, while Tank, without another word, turned and jogged down the beach. Naturally. She could learn a host of valuable social skills from the bum. She walked into the house, relieved and unaccountably irritated at the same time.
eleven
The coffee shop was warm and welcoming after the long day at school. Becky greeted one of her favorite baristas and ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream. It was cold, it was Friday, and it seemed appropriate.
“How’s it going at the high school?” Daphne asked, sliding the mug across the counter.
“Word gets around fast,” Becky replied. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Daphne grinned. “Well, my little sister’s a senior, so she gives me the details. She’s taking Spanish, so she doesn’t have you, but she definitely knows you’re in the building.”
“That sounds ominous,” Becky said, lifting her mug carefully and tasting the whipped cream.
“Actually, the girls are mad ’cuz the boys are all talking about you. That’s pretty much it.”
“Terrific.” Becky sighed, blowing some of her whipped cream across the counter. “Oh, sorry,” she said, wiping it up. “Well, I will tell you that I actually have those kids speaking French, which is more than they were doing at the beginning of the week. At least the upperclassmen are.”
“I’m sure you’ll be great,” Daphne replied. “The kids will settle down. It’s just a big deal to have a new teacher.”
“Well, it’ll be a much bigger deal if they get the replacement they want for P.E.”
“Another teacher’s out? I can’t believe my sister didn’t tell me.”
“Well, this just happened today, or maybe last night. Anyway, I’m not really sure what the story is, but they’re talking about asking Grace’s brother.”
“The football player?”
“Yeah. Apparently, one of the teachers is related to the real estate agent who set him up with his rental.” Becky grimaced. “Guess that means he could be around a while.”
Daphne smiled. “Well, that should make Grace happy. As if she’s not happy enough already.”
“I know, right? What happened to my serious, reasonable friend?” Becky pined.
“Well, whatever it is, I hope it happens to me,” Daphne said with a laugh. “I’d better get back to work. Good luck at the high school. And don’t worry about those boys. They’ll shape up.”
Becky smiled and walked to her booth in the back of the store. If Grace was around, she’d make a point to stop and say hello. Becky thought she should know about the rumor at the high school. Let her tell Tank if she wanted to.
***
“So, that’s all I heard. I’m pretty sure you need some sort of certification to be a long-term sub, so it’s not like he’d be qualified, but I just thought I’d give you the heads-up.”
Grace sat back in the booth, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, he has his B.S. in science - secondary education - but I doubt he’s kept his credentials, or whatever it is you need, current.”
Becky swallowed. “He was an education major?”
“Well, he never actually did the educating, besides student teaching, I guess. He got drafted and went straight to football. I wonder if he’d want to teach again after all these years?”
“Probably not,” replied Becky, wishing more than knowing it to be so. “He doesn’t really like people.”
Grace laughed. “I know you say that, but he wasn’t always that way. He used to be more sociable - maybe not the life of the party - but definitely comfortable with people.” She sipped her tea. “I think the whole major life change has just left him out of his element. Once you get to know him ...”
“Well, we don’t have to worry about that, do we?” Becky asked brightly. “Anyway, I just thought you should know, in case you want to pass the information along. That way he won’t be caught off guard and take someone’s head off when they approach him.”
Grace laughed again. “I really have to thank you, Becky. This is the second job you’ve found for my brother.”
“Please. I’m not looking for these things. I just keep being an unwilling courier. Tell him about it if you want to.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself, see if you guys can come to some kind of truce?” Grace suggested, still smiling.
“No, I never see him.”
“He works at the inn where you live.”
Becky gave her a dark look. “We make it a point to avoid each other.”
“Really? He said he talked to you last night.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Talk to you or tell me?”
“Pick one.”
Grace grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe he was enthralled with your conversation.”
Her eyes sparkled and Becky wished, once again, for her formerly quiet, serious friend to reappear.
“Not likely. You can tell him if you want, but I’m staying out of it.”
***
“It was probably just a rumor.” Fuming, Becky hiked her school bag higher on her shoulder and glared up at Tank. No matter how she timed her entrance into the house, she always seemed to run into him. She’d thought she was safe, with the holiday just days away, yet here he was, and he ha
d the nerve to approach her about the news that no one was supposed to know. She wasn’t going to last in this small town.
Tank shrugged, and Becky’s eyes were drawn to his stupid traps. She could see their outline under his heavy sweatshirt. She fought the memory of having had her hands all over them. Was he remembering that little episode, too? She sincerely hoped not.
“Grace told me to ask you.”
Becky refocused on the conversation. “Well, I don’t know much. One of the P.E. teachers left suddenly and they’re looking for a replacement.”
Tank’s brows drew low over his eyes. “What does that have to do with me?”
She sighed. “Your name came up because one of the teachers is related to your real estate agent. So now they know there’s a former pro athlete in town, and they were going to send someone to talk to you about helping out.”
Tank snorted. “Helping out?”
“Well, I imagine they’d pay you for your services.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you involved?”
“Believe me, I wish I weren’t.” Becky danced a little, trying to warm her feet. “I just told Grace as a courtesy to you. Didn’t think you’d want to be blindsided when someone approached you.”
Tank’s expression softened the slightest bit. “Oh.”
“I’m not trying to find you a different job, much as I’d rather not have you working under my roof.” She glanced at the house longingly.
“Your sister’s roof.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
He stepped aside so she could go in. She hurried past him, anxious to get warm. She almost didn’t hear him in her rush to get away.
She turned in surprise. “What did you say?”
He considered her for a moment. “I said ‘thanks.’ ”
“Really.”
Tank shook his head and jogged down the steps and out to his Jeep.
***
“To celebrate the upcoming holiday, we’re going to have a quiz.”
A universal groan reverberated throughout the room as Becky handed out the papers. “It’ll be fun! It’s all about Thanksgiving - we discussed this vocab on Friday. I told you to study.”
The freshman class was not impressed. They grumbled as she chattered on about turkeys and sweet potatoes, and then the room quieted as they all tried to remember their vocabulary words.
She walked around the classroom, observing their progress. When they finished, she would divide them into groups and get a little competition going. Boys verses girls, perhaps. That was always a good motivator.
She glanced out at the grey skies. John was replacing the attic windows today; she hoped they’d get the job done before the rain came. Her mind wandered over the conversations she’d heard among the three men while she hid - rested - in her room in the evenings. Tank sounded like a different person with them - laughing and discussing their boring carpentry topics with more knowledge than she would have expected.
“Ms. Jacobs?”
She jumped out of her reverie and looked over at the student who’d called out to her.
“Mademoiselle, s’il vous plait.”
“Oh, right, Mademoiselle Jacobs, are we correcting these, or do you want me to hand this in?”
The girl who asked was sweet and earnest. Sweet and earnest were adjectives that had never landed on Becky for any measurable time. Still, for some reason, she was drawn to this particular student.
“Nous allons regarder ensemble.”
The girl stared at her blankly.
“We’ll look at them together,” Becky said quietly, and the girl smiled, apparently finding a way to equate the two sentences.
Becky smiled back and continued her circuit around the room. There were definitely things about teaching that she enjoyed.
***
Arriving back at the inn, she was relieved to see that Tank’s Jeep wasn’t parked in the drive. There was still a chance that he’d walked, but even he wouldn’t be so foolish on this cold, rainy day.
Then again, maybe he would.
Becky walked right into the group in the kitchen, apparently catching the tail end of a conversation that immediately roused her suspicions.
“Thanks, Maddy,” Tank was saying, with an unfamiliar-to-Becky, friendly air. “I’ll let Grace know.” He looked up as Becky entered the room, and a cloud seemed to come over his face.
The others turned to greet her with a little more enthusiasm.
“Tough day?” Maddy asked.
Great. Apparently, she looked as bad as she felt.
“It was okay. Hey, everybody.” She glanced around at Frank and John with a smile, then turned back to Maddy. “Are you going to get the boys? I’ll go with you.”
“Well, I’m going to pick them up and go back to the house. You’re more than welcome to come with us, but we weren’t planning to hang out here this evening.”
“Oh.” So much for her escape plan. “I guess I’ll stay here and get ready for the weekend. What’s up for tomorrow?”
“Well, I think these guys are going to put in one more long day before Thanksgiving,” Maddy looked apologetically at Tank. “And I’m planning to come over and get a jump on the cooking.”
Even Becky could find a reason to smile at that. Maddy wasn’t very comfortable in the kitchen and this would be her first Thanksgiving meal.
“Have you found a good turkey recipe?”
“I think so.” Maddy looked half anxious and half excited. “I was going to try Mom’s, but I found one online that seems a little more foolproof.”
The men started filing back upstairs after their coffee break, and Becky let the kitchen clear before demanding answers to a few other questions that she had.
“What was Tank thanking you for?”
Maddy looked taken aback at the sudden change in topic. “Thanking me? Oh, just now? Well, we were talking about Thanksgiving, and ...”
“What could Tank possibly have to do with our Thanksgiving?”
“Our Thanksgiving is going to include John’s mother, sister and niece, Otis, Tank and Grace.”
“You’re kidding!” Becky wanted to throw a tantrum like her freshmen class did. “Grace is great, but Tank?”
“I could hardly invite one without the other, and really, Becky, we know Tank better than Grace.”
“But it’s going to be so awkward - we can’t stand each other!”
“Well, you can survive for one day. Think about it, Becky. He’s been playing football right through the Thanksgiving holiday for years. This year will probably be tough for him. I’m actually really glad that he accepted. I didn’t think he would.”
“I can’t believe he did, either.”
“I think he’s starting to bond with John and Frank. He’s an amazing carpenter, so they’re thrilled, and I think they’re getting him to talk about football.” Maddy smiled a little. “I think there’s a lot of cool stuff going on upstairs.”
Becky didn’t really want to think about Tank’s healing process. She tried a different approach. “Why would you want to invite so many people when you’ve never cooked a turkey before?”
Maddy sat down on a bar stool. “Well, I didn’t really think about that when I started inviting everyone.” She sighed. “It just seemed like having Thanksgiving here in our beautiful dining room was a nice thing to offer after everything people did for us on our wedding.”
Becky sat down next to her. “Are they bringing food to help?”
“Well, John’s mom makes pies, so she’s got desert covered.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I know. And Otis has his special rolls he makes, and says he’s going to try his hand at sweet potatoes.”
“Okay. Who’s doing the cranberry salad and mashed potatoes?”
“Well, Tank said they’d do a fruit salad of some kind. Oh, and he’ll bring the wine.” Maddy pulled her list from the counter closer to check her notes. “That leaves the turke
y and stuffing, which I figured I could do. And you make great potatoes, so you can keep that job.”
She turned to Becky with a bright smile, as though promising her the mashed potato gig would make the whole Thanksgiving mess more palatable.
Becky shook her head with a grudging smile. “I hope you know what you’re doing. And you’d better go get those boys.”
Maddy looked at her watch. “Oh, right.” She tucked her list into her purse. “I’ll stop at the store and grab a few things. It’ll probably be crazy tomorrow.” She stood and pulled her coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
“You take Parker and Blake grocery shopping with you?”
“Yeah. They’re usually good sports about it. Parker will sneak something into the cart every once in a while, but Blake polices it pretty closely for me.” She grinned. “He takes care of most of the discipline issues.”
Becky smiled at the thought. “Well, good luck.”
She pulled herself off her own bar stool and contemplated her options for the rest of the day. If the guys were going to work into the evening, she’d get her run in and then make herself scarce. She’d already be spending far more of this weekend with Tank than she’d ever dreamed possible. No need to rub salt in the wound.
twelve
The alarm clock sounded - alarming. Becky rolled over and slapped it repeatedly. The shrill whistle kept blaring. She sat up groggily.
The smoke alarm?
She all but fell out of her bed, trying to wake up enough to land feet-first. She could definitely smell smoke.
The turkey.
Maddy had wanted to try a roast-all-night-in-foil recipe which would leave the turkey thoroughly done for their noon meal. She’d been ridiculously worried about undercooked turkey. Apparently, that was no longer a concern.
Becky hurried into the kitchen, the smoke burning her eyes as she made her way to the oven. Burt trotted up to her, sneezing and whining, and she ran to the door to let him out. Turning back, she tried to make out the damage. Smoke was pouring out of every conceivable crevice of the stovetop, but at least the fire was contained in the oven. By the time she’d loosed the fire extinguisher and pulled the pin, John came flying through the stairwell door, Maddy and the boys close on his heels.
Done With Men Forever (Clairmont Series Book 3) Page 8