Calytrix

by Chris Keniston

  He chuckled. “Okay. But I don’t know about playing. Not anymore.”

  “You don’t have to pitch. There’s always room for one more leftfielder.” She tried for a teasing grin, but wasn’t sure it had gone over that well. Chin lifted upward, she focused on the stars for a few minutes. “They really are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “They are.”

  “They wouldn’t look the same if there was only one.” She leveled her gaze on his. “I can’t say I understand how you feel, but do me a favor and at least sleep on it.”

  “Why is this game so all important to everyone anyhow?”

  She shrugged. “Tradition, I suspect. We have two big games a year. The one where the faculty plays against the students, all the kids can participate. And then where the alumni come back and play the varsity team.”

  “I still don’t see why you need me.”

  “We’ve never not had enough players before. This game in particular draws a lot of local attention. Alumni come and bring their families. All the proceeds go toward a children’s cancer fund the school started decades ago after one of the star athletes died from Leukemia.”

  His lips pressed tightly closed.

  “So you see, to the town and the students, it’s sort of a big deal.”

  “They’re not the only ones,” he mumbled so softly.

  “Tell you what. Don’t make up your mind yet. Sleep on it like I said.” Maybe by tomorrow she’d figure out a way to make everyone happy.

  Chapter Ten

  “Hi Coach C!” Deidra came bouncing up the walkway.

  “You look awfully chipper.” Callie pushed to her feet. Maybe the townsfolk weren’t the only ones thinking her math was improving.

  “Let’s just say it’s been a good day.” The teen turned to her tutor. “Ready?”

  The two crossed the porch and Callie kept her eyes on them as they continued through the foyer before turning into the General’s office.

  “She looks awfully happy.” Carrying a large box, Lucy looked over her shoulder at the empty foyer.

  “I was just thinking that.” Poppy came in with a stack of plates and silverware and set them down on a side table. Cindy’s husband Peter came in a few feet behind with another pan of Oma’s plum pastry. No doubt the card players would be showing up soon, and what would card night at the Hart House be without some deliciously sinful dessert?

  “My guess is someone has a crush.” Lucy set the box down on the floor by the front door.

  “A crush?” Callie looked back into the house at the empty entryway.

  “Won’t be the first time.” Grams set her project bag beside the rocker.

  Callie hadn’t seen enough of her grandmother’s effort at making braided baskets. The logic of how molding braided strips into versatile baskets would be any different than creating rag rugs escaped her, but who was she to burst her grandmother’s artistic bubble? The woman did so love crafting, but like Lucy and matchmaking, loving something had little to do with success.

  Lily stepped onto the porch carrying a cup of tea for herself and for Grams. “First time for what?”

  “That a student falls for her teacher,” Lucy added, scanning the porch for who knew what.

  Taking a seat across from her grandmother, Callie glanced inside one more time to where Zane and Deidra had disappeared into the office. “You think?”

  “Well.” Poppy served herself a slice of pastry. Her baby sister had a great metabolism. “He is awfully charming, and good looking for a desk jockey who’s good at math.”

  There was no arguing that the guy was nice enough, and maybe handsome too, but still. Surely it was possible for Deidra to just be in a good mood without being infatuated.

  “What are you fiddling with?” Grams pulled her strands of fabric onto her lap and frowned at Lucy struggling with a cord behind a small table.

  “Found this old player in the back of the hall closet this morning. I’m wondering if it still works. Might be nice to have a little background music for a change.”

  Callie had only seen something like that boxed contraption in old movies and the occasional retro meme on social media. The ones that made fun of millennials for not knowing how to dial a rotary phone or what to do with a vinyl record album. Otherwise she’d have been stumped. And frankly, if Lucy wanted music, everyone in the room had a cell phone that could play whatever struck her fancy.

  “Oh my. I remember that old record player.” Cindy clapped her hands together and hurried past her husband to the stack of albums that Lucy had set nearby. “Dad would play Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons and we would all dance.”

  “Played who?” Poppy looked up from her dessert.

  “The Jersey Boys,” Callie volunteered.

  Poppy bobbed her head. “Oh. But I don’t remember dancing with Dad.”

  “You were just a baby.”

  The way Poppy’s lips tipped in a near pout made Callie ache for the little girl who had barely gotten to know her father. From what Callie remembered, her Uncle Keith had been a really nice guy. And she did remember singing her heart out to “Sherry” with her cousins and uncle while doing what they all thought of as the twist.

  “I don’t see it.” Cindy frowned. “No Four Seasons.”

  “I’m sure your mother still has your dad’s collection.” Grams resumed braiding her fabric. “Why don’t you ask her to bring a few over after work?”

  Cindy shook her head. “Two wakes tonight. Mom’ll be beat when she gets home. Maybe I can just run over.”

  The sound of an orchestra wafted through the room, followed by the recognizable, even to Callie, smooth voice of Frank Sinatra.

  “Your grandmother’s favorite.” Lucy smiled proudly. “I’ll go put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Oh my,” Louise Franklin sighed as she came through the porch door, “I thought I heard Old Blue Eyes.”

  “Told ya.” Thelma came in a few feet behind her. “That man sure knew how to caress a tune. And a few other things, I bet. After all, he did have four wives.”

  “I beg your pardon?” The General joined the crowd on the massive porch.

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Louise huffed. “She’s talking about Frank Sinatra.”

  The General shrugged. “One wife, but I’ve been known to croon a song or two.”

  “Ha.” Thelma snickered. Callie couldn’t blame her. She didn’t remember ever hearing her grandfather sing a note. Bark a bit, yes. Sing, no. Now her grandmother, that woman loved music and arts. Too bad she couldn’t carry a tune with a wheel barrow.

  To Callie’s surprise, the General bowed at the waist and extended his hand to Grams. “May I?”

  Her grandmother blushed and actually batted her eyes. “I’d be delighted, kind sir.”

  Somehow Callie got the feeling this wasn’t the first time they’d shared this little exchange.

  Grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary, Lucy started moving chairs back against the wall as if she too was familiar with the routine. Pulling his wife into the fold of his arm, the General took one long step back and the next thing Callie knew the two were swirling around the floor like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Oh yeah, definitely not the first time that exchange had happened.

  How did she not know her grandparents could dance like that? The gleam in their eyes was nothing new. There wasn’t a member of the family or resident of the town that didn’t know how much they adored each other. Deep down she’d always dreamed of one day finding someone who looked at her that way. For a while there she’d almost given up, but maybe, maybe she wasn’t ready to stop believing. Yet.

  ***

  The attention span of a teenager was one of the things Zane still remembered from his psych class days. And if he was correct, extending the session for more than thirty minutes wasn’t going to do anyone any good. Besides, he was impressed with Deidra’s enthusiasm and participation, and didn’t want to push his luck. If what the guys in the barber
shop had said about her test taking next week was true, he couldn’t afford to mess this up.

  “What do you suppose is going on out there?” Deidra glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the hall.

  The music that had been drifting in and out almost since they’d started had caught his attention a time or two, and was now clearly distracting Deidra. “What do you say we call it a night and go see what the old folks are up to?”

  “Works for me.” She sprang from her seat, gathered her notes, and led the way out the door.

  Not more than a few feet through the large entry hall, Deidra’s steps slowed. When she reached the front doors and slid to a complete stop, Zane nearly tripped over her.

  “What’s wrong?” His gaze drifted over her shoulder to the people on the porch. “What the…”

  From where he stood, he could see the General and Mrs. Hart waltzing around the floor like a couple of contestants in a ballroom competition. That wasn’t so odd. Lucy and Ralph cutting the rug around them was a bit unexpected, but not as much as seeing Thelma and Louise paired up and singing something about this feeling of joy and simply a lark at the top of their lungs. Off key lungs.

  “Do you think it’s contagious?”

  Zane bit back a laugh and eased around her. Actually, standing on the porch he could see Cindy and her husband were dancing on the far side—well, they were more swaying than dancing—Poppy was doing a heck of a job keeping up with Floyd, who apparently thought twirling and dancing were the same thing, and lastly, Callie and Lily were rocking back and forth and grinning like little kids.

  The song ended and no one stopped moving, which seemed insanely ironic when the next tune to play was the old song, “I Won’t Dance.”

  “I guess they’re not playing cards tonight.” Deidra kept her eyes on the dancers.

  A ringing phone sounded between refrains and Lily stopped to answer. Phone to one ear and finger in the other, she bobbed her head a few times and then hung up. “Gotta go. Cole got knocked off a ladder and is on mandatory observation for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Is he all right?” Callie asked.

  Lily flashed a reassuring grin. “That incredibly hard head comes in handy. He’s already grumbling that he doesn’t need to leave his shift, but rules are rules.”

  Firehouse rules weren’t top on Zane’s list of things he knew much about, but he suspected there must have been at least a bump on the head involved for the department to send him home. Hopefully Lily was right and Cole was very hard headed.

  When Deidra’s phone sounded a moment later, it drew Callie’s attention to the two of them watching from the doorway. Deidra swiped at her screen, and her face glowing, turned to Zane. “Sorry, I have to take off now. Thanks.” Holding the phone to her ear, she bolted across the dance floor, waving goodbye to any adult who noticed her.

  “Seems we know why she’s in a good mood.” Callie stepped up next to him.

  “We do?”

  “My money is on whoever was on the other end of that phone call. The minute she saw the name on the screen she lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.”

  “That would be Oliver.”

  “Oliver?”

  Zane nodded. “He lit up her phone at least three times during our session. Seems his family recently moved here from Brooklyn and he doesn’t know a lot of kids. The school assigned Deidra as his buddy.”

  “Ah. I wonder whose idea that was?” Callie asked.

  “Deidra’s. She was in the office for something when the kid and his parents came in for a meeting. They got to talking—apparently they’re both good athletes—and Deidra volunteered.”

  Callie nodded. “Okay. Now that makes more sense.”

  Red tail lights caught their eyes and they followed them up the hill until the glow disappeared from view. The music slowly faded and another tune started up. Zane surveyed the dancers on the porch. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s planning on playing cards anytime soon.”

  Callie scanned the area as well and shook her head. “I think not.”

  Taking a step back, he waved his hand, extending his arm in front of her. “May I have this next dance?”

  Her eyes widened and the beat of silence had him wondering if he’d made a mistake. The following moment a slight smile teased at her lips and put him at ease. “If you’re brave enough, I’d love to.”

  There was nothing brave about having a legitimate excuse to hold a woman in his arms. Especially this woman. How well she fit against him was the first thing he noticed. The next was how easily she glided along. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “I have?”

  “You’re a wonderful dancer.”

  “You have a few surprises too.”

  “Didn’t think I could dance?” He spun her out a little and twirled her back in, delighted when she curled against his shoulder.

  “Call me guilty of stereotyping, but I don’t think of folks strong in math and computers as being good dancers.”

  “Oh, we’re good at a lot of things.” He hadn’t meant to imply anything untoward with his words but the slight flush in her cheeks told him he could have chosen his words more carefully. Opening his mouth to apologize, he realized there would be no easy way out of this and whatever he said would only dig him deeper in trouble, so he snapped his mouth shut and enjoyed the moment. Wouldn’t it be nice if Frank could sing all night long?

  Chapter Eleven

  Prepping for the upcoming school year, the last few days had come and gone in a whirlwind of activity. Two days of back to back practices had run long to make up for the lost practice time earlier in the week. Both days, Zane had sat in the bleachers observing. The first day he’d leaned back on his elbows and hardly moved. The second afternoon he’d leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, and followed every exercise with keen interest, like a lion tracking his pride.

  The team was starting to take shape. Callie had already pretty much decided which girls would be playing which position, but she still had a few spots up in the air. Today would be a well-deserved day off.

  “You planning on trying out the new swim platform?” At the counter slicing lemons, Lucy looked over her shoulder in Callie’s direction.

  One of the things Callie loved about her grandparents’ kitchen was that no matter what time of day, or what day of the week, there was always somebody around. She was never alone. “There’s a swimming platform?”

  “Weren’t you paying attention last night when the General said that Brent would be dropping it off sometime today?”

  “I must not have been around during that conversation.” Or maybe that was one of the nine million times that she’d been distracted watching or listening to Zane, rather than participating in family conversation.

  Lucy continued squeezing lemons into a pitcher of water. “Doesn’t matter. Brent was good for his word. First thing this morning he drove out here with it in his truck. Assembled it on the beach in no time, and even went above and beyond the call of carpentry and anchored it where your grandfather directed him to.”

  “I may have to try it out.” Pulling a mug out of the cupboard, Callie poured herself some coffee. The near constant aroma of her grandfather’s beloved fresh brew was another perk of the Hart family kitchen.

  “It looks really cool,” Lucy continued. “And he even added a retractable ladder so old folks like me don’t have to scramble onto it.”

  “Or young folks like me. I have no intention of scrambling either.” Callie laughed. She had some fond memories of all the neighboring kids playing on an old swim platform when she was really young. But it had begun to deteriorate and her grandfather had removed it for safety purposes and never replaced it. At least not until now.

  “I’m grilling chicken for lunch, but it won’t be ready for a while. Why don’t you go put on a swimsuit and check out the platform.”

  “Maybe I will.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still early and the weather was per
fect for a swim in the lake. Maybe not bad for running into a vacationing data analyst either. She’d been spoiled. The last two days they’d lunched together at the diner before practice. They’d run the gamut of conversation, debating the better line up for the Red Sox, which teams would end up in the World Series, and easily agreed that no modern stadium was worth losing the Green Monster for.

  Zane had become acquainted with enough people in town that he knew almost as much about Lawford as the locals. Almost. After dinner they’d talked some more for hours and hours. It wasn’t often that she could find someone who shared so many of the same interests she did. Whether talking about the recent exhibit at the gallery where her cousin Rose was curator, or the animal sanctuary her cousin Cindy was so invested in, or some of the newsworthy surgeries that her cousin Heather had been involved with, they had yet to run out of things to say.

  Still, the best part was, the guy wasn’t talking through his nose. If he had something to say, he knew what he was talking about. And he knew sports. Sometimes, she felt, better than she did. As a matter of fact, she was anxious to share the thoughts she’d had late last night about the team and how the kids were performing. Lord how she hated using that word when it came to her students, but that was all she had to go on for deciding the kids’ positions and places in the lineup. She was looking forward to hearing his take on it.

  Another thing she wanted to share with him was the update from Deidra’s math teacher. Debra Barclay had called Callie bright and early this morning to let her know how much Deidra’s every day schoolwork was improving. Not even a full week of Zane and Deidra working together, and the woman gleefully confirmed that the teen’s skill sets had indeed improved. The way Debra gushed, anyone would think that Deidra was her daughter and not just a student. Though it shouldn’t be a surprise. The whole town was rooting for Deidra. She was a good kid and her parents worked really hard, but like most folks around here, there wasn’t the budget to send her off to study at any of her dream schools.