Lights Out (Indigo)

by Robinson, Ruthie

  Later on that night, Joe called Piper. He didn’t owe her any apology that he could see, but he wanted to offer one anyway. She had been good to and for Shane, had been good to and for him, and he’d acted today like she’d wanted the key to his heart or something larger when all she’d asked were questions regarding Shane. He’d clammed up. It’s what he did when he was probed. He hated being probed, so maybe he’d gotten a little bit short with her.

  She’d just asked a simple personal question, something anyone would want to know, especially if they were responsible for the care of that person.

  “Hello,” she answered in a cool voice.

  “Hey,” he replied, pausing for a second. “So, in case you’re angry at me, I wanted to apologize to you for today. I don’t talk about Shane much, but I’d be willing to for you if you have any more questions that you’d like to have answered.”

  “Now?” she said.

  “Now.”

  It was quiet on the phone for a few moments. “Nope, I’m okay. I know how much you value your privacy Joe. I just thought we were becoming friends and I know you’ve noticed I’ve been telling you my life story. You probably know more than you want to know about me,” she said, laughing, hoping to lighten the moment. Silence still reigned. “I kind of hoped you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me yours at some point.”

  Silence again.

  “It’s okay, though, it’s your business. I’m okay with that. You don’t need to tell me anything. Just promise to tell me if there’s anything I need to know for Shane’s safety and protection. The rest you can keep to yourself,” she said, a little hurt. It was quiet for another minute.

  “It works better for me this way, Piper. I’ve found that it’s just better to keep personal things to myself. I’m sorry if that offends you. It’s not my intention to hurt your feelings.”

  “No problem,” she said, and it was quiet again.

  “So we’re good?”

  “Yes, we are good,” she said, working to make her voice sound upbeat.

  “You’ve got Shane tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “See you then,” he said.

  “Yep. See you then,” she replied and hung up.

  * * *

  Third week in November

  Later on that week Piper walked into the front doors of the school headed in the direction of Kennedy’s classroom. She had gotten here early at the request of Mrs. Samson, Ken’s teacher, who wanted to talk to her about something.

  She usually made the right to Kennedy’s class without thinking, but today she glanced left and saw Shane standing outside in the hall, his face a mask of contrition as Mr. Marshall was speaking to him. About what? she wondered. She stood there, partially out of view, and waited until he and Mr. Marshall were finished and they re-entered the classroom.

  Okay, I wonder what was going on with that?

  Pressed for time, she turned and continued on her way to Ken’s classroom, hoping it wouldn’t take long.

  Twenty minutes later—longer than Piper had anticipated—she was free and she and Kennedy were making their way toward the front office. She debated whether or not to seek out Mr. Marshall to find out what happened with Shane. He wasn’t her child, but she wanted to know and didn’t want to wait for Joe to tell her, either. She was not in the mood for tight-lipped Joe today.

  Lucky for her—and proof that the stars aligned sometimes—Mr. Marshall was headed toward the front of the school, same as she. He looked up and caught her eye. She smiled.

  “Ms. Knight, do you have a moment?” he asked, stepping over to one side of the hall.

  “I do,” she said, coming to stand next to him. “Ken, will you wait for me by the couch?”

  “Sure,” Ken replied and walked away, stopping to talk with some other child, apparently always happy to talk to her friends.

  “I just spoke with Shane. He’s been bothered by one of the newer students in another class. He exchanged words with the student. They were having difficulty communicating. I was listening to his side of things earlier. I saw you standing there,” he said gravely. “I also know that you’re close to his uncle. Taylor and Shane are good friends and I understand that you’re responsible for Shane sometimes.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I left Joe a message to call me tonight. I wanted to talk to him about it. Would you remind him? He’s busy, I know, but make sure he returns my call tonight,” he said.

  “Sure,” Piper responded, and tracked his departure as he turned and walked back toward his classroom.

  She and Ken did their normal wait for Shane-and-Taylor drill, and they all headed back to the coffee shop. Piper found out the details of what happened to Shane as she listened to Taylor drill Shane about what happened today between him and the new kid.

  About an hour later Piper walked into the kitchen at her shop, groaning at the stack of boxes she encountered. A delivery was waiting for her to dispose of. She left Shane and Taylor in her office on her computer, working on some paper or project they’d been assigned. It was due in two weeks, they’d told her. Ken was in her office, too, sprawled on the couch, killing two birds with one stone—completing her homework and keeping an eye on Shane, still her number one crush.

  * * *

  Joe entered the shop near six, which was early for him. He looked around the shop for Piper and the kids.

  “She’s in the kitchen,” Estelle said, smiling at him. She always gave him that I’ve got a secret smile, which always left him wondering if he’d missed something.

  “Hello, Estelle,” he said, passing by her on his way to the kitchen.

  “You’re early,” Piper said, glancing back at him from her place near the door of her storage closet. He walked over to stand in the doorway. She was on the floor, on her knees, stacking paper towel rolls on the bottom shelf.

  “Delivery today. Putting away supplies,” she said. He could tell; several dismantled boxes lay in a stack nearby.

  “My lucky day, I guess,” he said, looking at her as she bent over, admiring the view. Jesus, she was something. “This is a good look for you,” he said, laughing.

  “Cut it out,” she replied and threw a roll of paper towels his way, which he caught smoothly.

  She hadn’t changed her behavior around him. He’d worried for nothing after their discussion about Shane’s mother the other night. He thought maybe she might have called it quits and told him to find someone other than her to take care of Shane; at the very least, he expected her to be distant. But nope, it was Piper as usual, back in her normal form.

  “I want to talk to you about something,” she said, getting up off the floor, pushing him out of her way as she marched past him out of the storage room and into the kitchen. She made her way over to close the door leading from the kitchen to the shop, peeking out first to make sure it was free of children. She walked back over to him, stopping right in front, now all up close and personal with him, her eyes at his nose level. She looked up, serious. He looked back, serious too, after watching her secure the door like they were expecting big trouble.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Mr. Marshall wants you to call him about Shane. I saw him out in the hall today after school talking to Shane. He says a kid at school was giving Shane trouble. Taylor says it’s more like being bullied. I did a little information-gathering on my own. What are you going to do about it?” she asked.

  “Do about what?”

  “About Shane being bullied?”

  “Call Mr. Marshall, like he requested,” he answered, gazing at her now, arms crossed at her chest.

  “That’s it?” she said. “Talk to the teacher is all you’re going to do?”

  “Talk to the parents…” he said, looking at her sideways, trying to figure out what she wanted him to say “Talk to the principal?” Apparently, talking to the parents was not the answer she’d been looking for either.

  She stood before him, arms crossed again, one foot tappi
ng a new and lively tune. He looked down at her foot, in that boot, tapping away. He was either really sick or really, really needed to get laid because that was working for him, his body was responding to her foot in that boot. It was sad that it took so little to move him.

  His eyes were headed back up to her face, but stopped for a quick peek at her chest; it moving in time to her breathing, making her perky breasts even more noticeable. He loved her breasts.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said, turning and walking away from him to the other side of the kitchen. His eyes moved to her ass.

  She stopped pacing and stood there watching him. He could tell she was impatient with his response. What did he miss? She was staring at him with disappointment in her eyes.

  “As I was saying, my dad has a few boxing gyms here in the city. Lights Out Boxing Gyms. You’ve heard of them, right?”

  He had and nodded. “Yes.” Who hadn’t?

  “I could take Shane over after school once a week. You know, teach him how to protect himself. I learned when I was young—right after I moved in with my father—and so have my sisters. Shane needs to learn, too,” she said.

  “What?” he asked, his face watching hers. “You want to teach Shane to box?”

  “Sure.” Her expression was earnest, sincere, and concerned. “He needs to learn to protect himself.”

  Piper, he was finding, had this uncanny ability to surprise him. It had happened from the first time he walked into her shop. She and her sex-tinged banter had taken him by surprise. The appearance of her sisters was another surprise; then there was the care she gave to Shane, a child that wasn’t even her blood. Now this.

  “It’s okay, Piper, I’ve spoken with Mr. Marshall before. Today wasn’t the first time,” he said, pulling his mind back to the conversation.

  “So what are you doing about it this time?” she asked.

  “I’ll give Mr. Marshall a call tonight. I’ll talk it over with Shane, too,” he added.

  “Sometimes you have to knock some heads together,” she said, pushing her hands together in demonstration. “Push back when people push you. Sometimes talking doesn’t always work.”

  “I know, but talking will always be my first choice. I grew up with fighting, standing my ground. It’s not always the answer,” he said.

  “Sometimes, though, a good punch in the lip can create a whole lot of make nice,” she said.

  He laughed. Couldn’t help himself.

  “What’s so funny?” she said.

  “Nothing. You are. I didn’t know you had this violent side,” he said.

  “I’m not violent. I just know how to protect myself.”

  “This is new, this kick-ass Piper,” he said, arms folded, leaning back on the counter, smiling.

  “I’m tough,” she said, crossing her arms, too.

  “Sure you are.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You don’t have to pay me for keeping Shane. It’s on the house. You give free coffee to that homeless guy. I’ve seen the neighborhood kids come in and take money out of the tip jar for smoothies or whatever.”

  “Yeah, so what?” she said, defensive now. “No one should have to go hungry.”

  “I didn’t say they should; just that you’re more soft than you are tough.”

  She ignored him and started pacing again. “You know we don’t have to sign him up with my dad. I know enough, I could teach him,” she said, and he watched as she demonstrated, taking a fighter’s stance, arms up, on the balls of her feet, punching into the air surrounding her. He couldn’t help it this time. He started laughing.

  She just looked at him, bent over in laughter, refusing to join in. She’d been serious about anyone messing with hers, and Shane was included in that group now. He continued to laugh. A few minutes later he slowly stopped, winding down to a few chuckles.

  “You done?” He could see he’d offended her.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it, or of you,” he said, closing the distance between them. He reached for her, bringing her into his body, her chest against his, his arms going around her waist. He found her mouth and kissed her before he’d even recognized what he’d done. It was so unplanned, so instinctive. He went with it, though, his mouth moving over hers, forcing her to open, letting himself go, hoping to convey his appreciation of who she was, hands moving over her body, one he’d started to know like his own.

  “Does this door close?” he asked, moving her toward the storage room.

  “What? The kids,” she said.

  “I know, but give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll stop. I promise.” He moved her inside and closed the door behind them. He backed against the door and went back to taste her again.

  Her hands moved to the zipper of his slacks and worked their way into his boxers. She found and stroked him once, twice, while her mouth gave over to the onslaught from his. He found her hand a few seconds later, stopping its movement, and removed it to hold in his, as he ended the kiss, resting his forehead against hers until his breathing slowed.

  “Soon,” he said.

  “Soon,” she replied. He stepped away from the door and opened it. The coast was clear. She walked out. He followed a few seconds later, grinning.

  “What?” she asked, gazing at his smile.

  “Nothing,” he said, laughing now at them and their urgency. “I know who to take with me if I’m ever in a fight,” he said, going back to their earlier discussion.

  “I’m not helping you. You can talk your way out of it, Dr. King, the new man of non-violence,” she said, walking back over to finish putting the supplies away, looking back over her shoulder at him.

  “Shane is okay, really?” she asked, serious now.

  “Yes, he is,” he said, watching her. “Thank you for caring about him,” he said, serious now too.

  “Just doing my job,” she said, startled. That whole smoldering thing was in his eyes again.

  “Where are they, by the way?”

  “Who?”

  “The kids,” he said, laughing.

  “He and Taylor are on the computer, working on a project in my office.”

  He stood up. “I’ll go see if they’re done and head on home.”

  “I’ll come with you,” she said, putting the boxes left to empty away, under the counter in the middle of the kitchen, and wiping her hands on her pants. His eyes followed her movements. She walked through the kitchen door and he followed behind.

  * * *

  Later on that night Joe removed the stopper from the sink, grabbed his beer, turned and leaned back against the counter. Having finished the after-dinner cleanup, his thoughts turned to Piper. He was glad she’d become his friend, and more. He’d been moved by her passion and commitment on Shane’s behalf today. As someone who had faced his problems alone for much of his life, he was awed by it.

  Chapter 16

  Joe stood outside of Piper’s home thirty minutes later, watching as her sisters lugged out their bags for the trip to her grandparents’ home. Piper was excited; her other two sisters were meeting her there along with her step-mother Margarite.

  And exactly how many months was the Thanksgiving holiday, he wondered, examining the sizes of their suitcases. Ken’s was the worst, followed by Shane’s. Taylor had the smallest suitcase; it was probably just filled with baseball caps and video games, he thought.

  He’d helped them load the suitcases and now stood waiting for the trips to the bathrooms to end. Piper had insisted.

  Shane walked out first. “Thanks, Uncle Joe, for letting me go. Are you going to be okay by yourself?” he asked.

  “I’ll manage. I’ll have McKenzie and Pepper with me, and Charlie will help keep me company, too,” he said, looking at the two dogs next to his feet, packed into their cages, ready to go and surprisingly quiet.

  “Just invite some of those girls you like over. You’ll have the whole house to yourself. They can giggle and laugh as loud as they want,” Shane
said, giving him a wink. And it was a guy wink, an I know the deal kind of wink. Joe looked around, making sure Piper was nowhere near.

  Out came Taylor with her usual baseball cap on.

  “I want to sit next to Shane,” Kennedy said, following Taylor out of the front door, dressed impeccably in her lovely brown frock with matching boots and tights.

  “He’s my friend. He doesn’t have time to hang out with fourth-graders,” Taylor said, walking to the back to push in some extra Xbox games she’d forgotten to pack.

  Last out the door was Piper, also in a baseball cap—puffy pony tail peeking from the hole in the back—and jeans and t-shirt that clung nicely to her body.

  “So are we ready, gang?” she asked, walking toward Joe and stopping. They both watched as the kids loaded themselves into the car. Shane had claimed the seat by one door and Ken had squirmed her way in the middle. No amount of pleading from Taylor could persuade her to move.

  “Piper? Can’t you make her move?” Taylor asked.

  “How about you let her ride until we make a stop and then you two can switch? It won’t kill you,” she said. Taylor glared at her but got in.

  “That was clearly not the answer she was looking for,” Piper said to Joe, smiling as she looked up into his face.

  He was quiet, caught up in her smile. It was a kick to his system. He watched the smile leave her face, replaced by desire that matched his.

  He moved closer to her. She seemed startled. His head lowered, looking at her mouth.

  “Joe?” she asked, breaking this from-out-of-nowhere pull. What was he thinking?

  “Sorry,” he said, a little embarrassed, and stepped back. “You guys call when you get there. Have a good time, and remember, I’ll be here all by my lonesome,” he said.

  “Sure, I’ll call,” she said.

  He watched her get into her car and pull away.

  * * *

  Nothing had changed much in Raywood, Texas, since the last time she’d been there. She drove slowly through town, examining it for any changes in the landscape. Nope, none; it was the same as the last time she’d driven through.