Raylene stood back, took Kayla’s cheeks between her palms, and looked at her. “Just as pretty as ever, I see. I can’t believe Luke didn’t know you right away. I could’ve picked you out anywhere.”
“Well, in my defense,” Luke said with amusement, “I was eight. And she goes by ‘Kayla’ now. Made it trickier.”
“Hi, Aunt Raylene,” Kayla said, her smile stretching wide. It was hard to feel shy in the face of this much enthusiasm. Nobody had made this kind of fuss over her for so long that she’d forgotten what it felt like.
Raylene flapped a hand at her. “Less of the ‘Aunt,’ please, unless you like it. We’ll let Eli call me ‘Aunt Raylene’ instead, how’s that? Because this must be Eli.” He got his own hug, his own kiss, and he didn’t seem to mind too much, either, or at least he wasn’t telling. “Isn’t that something? You’re older than Luke was when we knew your mama. Almost as tall as your mom already, and going to be a whole lot taller, aren’t you?”
An older man came up the hill beside the house, carrying two big garbage sacks, and Raylene called over to him. “Stan! They’re here!”
He dropped the sacks by the porch and headed on over. “You know, I probably would’ve figured that out eventually all on my own.” He smiled. “Little Kay. How are you?”
A gentle hug, a kiss on her cheek. He’d been a formidable figure when she’d been a child, so tall, so strong, a little gruff. Time had mellowed him, maybe, or her perspective had changed, because what she saw now was strength, but kindness, too.
“Well, let’s go on into the house,” Raylene said. “It’ll be new to you, Kayla. Luke will have to take you out to the farm.”
“He already did,” she said, following the others into the neat brick house, one arm around Eli’s shoulders. “We had a real Old Home Week. The house looks quite a bit different from the way I remember it, but the barn’s the same.”
“Oh, the house is way better,” Raylene said comfortably. “Cal’s got that all fixed up. And I get to be here, all modern and comfortable, and in town, too, around my friends. Couldn’t be better. Come on into the kitchen and sit with me, have a Coke or something while I finish getting dinner together. Just ham and potato salad, things like that. I hate to cook when it’s hot out, don’t you? Made some biscuits this morning before church, while it was still cool. And, Luke,” she told her son, “take Eli into the family room and go through those board games. See if there’s anything there he’d like.”
“Oh, we don’t need—” Kayla began, but Luke had already moved off with Eli in tow.
“I dragged everything over with me when we moved,” Raylene said, as if Kayla hadn’t spoken, waving her into a kitchen chair and going to the refrigerator. She opened the door, held up a Coke bottle inquiringly, and Kayla nodded, since that was clearly as much as she was going to be allowed to contribute for a while.
Raylene filled a glass with ice, poured the Coke into it, and set it in front of Kayla as she continued. “Got two granddaughters now, Theresa’s girls. And they’re wonderful, of course, smartest kids in the world, naturally. But they’re city kids. Modern kids. All they want to do is watch cable TV and do things on the computer. They sure aren’t interested in playing Battleship. All those good old-fashioned games in there going to waste, and when I heard about Eli, and that you all had just moved, hadn’t gotten yourselves too set up yet, I thought, well, maybe we could get rid of some of that, give it to somebody who could make use of it.”
Stan had followed his wife into the kitchen after stopping to take off his work boots, and she poured him a Coke as well.
“Yep,” he said. “That’s a real good idea. Got those tennis rackets in the garage, too. I’d love to get rid of those. How long’s it been since anybody used ‘em?” he asked his wife. “Five years? Don’t know what you were thinking anyway. Not too many tennis courts around here.”
“I was thinking it’d be good exercise,” she said. “And I thought I’d get you to do it with me, since you’d retired and I had you around at last. That’s one of those things retired couples are always doing on TV commercials, and I had this vision of us going into Paradise, playing a little tennis, meeting friends for lunch.”
“Next thing you know, you’ll be buying me plaid pants and golf clubs. Making me go on a cruise. No, thank you. I ask you,” Stan inquired of Kayla, “do I look like the tennis-playing type? Like I’d be wearing little white shorts and a shirt with an alligator on it, shouting ‘thirty-love’ at somebody?”
“No,” she said, an irrepressible smile trying to escape.
He looked at his wife and said, “See? Just the idea of it is making Kayla laugh. Just imagine how much worse it would’ve been if you’d talked me into it. Greg Swenson from the Elks drives by, sees me in my white shorts, leaping over the net or whatever they do? I’d never be able to show my face again.”
“She wasn’t laughing until you said that,” Raylene said serenely, because Kayla had indeed lost the battle and was laughing out loud. “And I wouldn’t have made you wear the shorts. You would have had to leap over the net, though, because that’s what the loser does, and I was taking lessons.”
“And, see, you think that’s convincing me,” he said, “but you couldn’t be more wrong.”
Luke came into the kitchen with Eli. “Oh, no,” he said, glancing between his parents. “You two already get Kayla ducking and looking for the fire exit?”
“We are conversing,” his mother said. “As families do.”
“Uh-huh,” Luke said. “I’ll bet. Any time the heat gets too much,” he told Kayla, “you just tell me, and we’ll get right out of the kitchen.”
“No,” she said. “I like it. It’s nice.”
And then Cal and Zoe came in, and she got shy again, because Cal was exactly what his dad had been all those years earlier. Tall and strong, hard and tough, that air of command hanging over him like an invisible cloak. More than a decade running a football team, Kayla knew, because she’d followed his star-studded career. First in college, and then on to the NFL. It was hard to imagine all that power and control settling into a farmer’s life, and even harder to imagine Zoe, who barely came to his shoulder, being able to “get the drop” on him as Luke had suggested.
“How’re you liking Paradise?” Cal asked Eli when they’d sat down to eat. Eli next to Kayla, and Luke right beside her. So close, and even that was making her jittery. In a good way, maybe.
“I’m kinda jealous, actually,” Cal went on. “I mean, school’s started now, and that su—uh, stinks,” he said, with a laughing eye on his mother, “but still. A summer hanging out at the pool, riding bikes with the other kids, instead of working for your slave-driver dad? That’d be sweet.”
“It’s fine.” Eli was sitting stiff and straight now. “Sir.”
“Nope,” Cal said, “that’s ‘Cal’ to you. I won’t know who you’re talking to otherwise.” He turned to Zoe with a sigh. “Can we rethink that getting married thing? If kids are going to call me ‘sir’ now?”
“You just try it, buddy,” she said, shooting him a mock glare. “I’ve got that promise on record. You’re not getting off that easy.”
“On record, huh? And, see, I don’t even believe you. You weren’t wearing a wire, because I remember doing a pretty thorough check that day.”
“Annnd . . .” Luke said with resignation as his father shook his head and Kayla giggled a little into her napkin. “Dragging the woman you love straight down into the gutter once again. Nice work there, bro.”
“My favorite spot,” Cal said, shooting Zoe a grin. “The view’s great from down here.”
“When’s the wedding?” Kayla hastened to ask. “And how’s the dress shopping going, Zoe?”
“Oh, thanks for reminding me,” she groaned. “Rochelle says I have to come look at some more pictures today, because we’re going to Spokane next weekend to shop.
She’s taking this whole maid-of-honor thing way too seriously. I don’t know why she can’t just stand up there on the day and hold my bouquet like a normal person. Not like I don’t have somebody bossing me around already.”
“Who?” Cal turned with exaggerated care and looked around the kitchen. “Because if you mean me, princess, let me just say that I’ve never had anybody harder to boss in my life.”
“That’s not what you said—” she began, then broke off.
“What?” Luke asked with a grin. “Do tell.”
“Never mind,” she said hastily. “Anyway. I don’t have time to shop. I have classes. Can’t I get married in a . . . a nice suit, or something?” she appealed to Cal. “I mean, it’s Christmastime,” she told Kayla. “The wedding. One of those horrible poofy strapless things wouldn’t just be ridiculous on a short and, um, curvy person like me, it’d be freezing anyway. Plus, you can never wear it again, which is completely impractical. A red suit, maybe? Christmasy, festive in all sorts of ways, and practical. And Cal’s always telling me to wear more red. See? Perfect!”
Everybody was laughing now. “No,” Cal said, enunciating every word. “Listen carefully, because I am bossing right now. Absolutely, positively no. You start down the aisle toward me in a suit, I’m heading up there, tossing you over my shoulder, and carrying you home to get changed. And, no, you’re not going to wear it again. You’re never wearing it again. This is a one-and-done deal.”
“See?” Zoe told Kayla with a sigh. “Totally bossy.”
“We’re off the subject,” Cal said. “As usual. You’re way too distracting, Professor. I’m talking to Eli.” He cleared his throat, adopted a serious look that had Eli laughing, too, now, forgetting his earlier caution, and said, “So. Eli. Please ignore my stubborn bride and tell me how you enjoyed your summer. Eat much ice cream, did you? Dive off the high board? Go down the Maple Street hill no-hands?”
“Um . . . no,” Eli said. “I mean, I went swimming. But I don’t have a bike. Not yet. I’m saving. I’m—” He shot a look across his mother at Luke. “I’m working.”
“Yep,” Luke said easily. “Eli’s my dogwalker, and about the best hire I’ve made this year, I’ll tell you that. But you don’t have a bike?” he asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“We’re figuring March,” Kayla said, trying for calm. “We’ve got a plan worked out, huh, Eli? Ten dollars a week, that’s what he’s saving.”
“What kind of a cheap employer are you, bro?” Cal asked. “Ten bucks a week?”
“He isn’t!” Eli said, with a spirit he hadn’t showed in so long, and Kayla felt a surge of pride to see it. “It’s just . . . we kind of need the money, so I’m saving ten dollars a week. Because we’re—”
“Breadwinners,” Kayla finished for him, forcing her chin up. “Eli and me. Both breadwinners.”
A little silence fell, then, until Raylene said calmly, “Sounds practical to me. Responsible, too. But don’t you have those old bikes of yours and Luke’s in the garage, still, Cal?”
“Sure do. One of them’s bound to have a frame the right size for Eli.”
“We couldn’t—” Kayla began, but Luke interrupted her for once.
“You know—that’s a great idea. Buy a new bike? All that markup? Nah. You’re in the country now,” he told Eli. “And in the country, you never buy new if you can fix up something old and use that instead. Bike frames, now—they never go bad. Wheels are probably fine, too. New tires, tubes, a new chain, maybe some brake cables? You’re in business.”
“I don’t know how to do those things, though,” Eli said doubtfully. “How to put them on.”
“Well, see,” Luke said cheerfully, “there’s another way you’re in luck. Because I do. Remember how I told you that I learned how things worked hanging out in the shop? Well, that’s how you do it. Break it down, then put it back together again. We’ll call it a teaching moment, how’s that? Long as you’re willing to spend a couple of weekends out there with me working on it, starting today. Head over there after dinner, take a look, see what we’ve got to work with. What do you say?”
“Yeah,” Eli said shyly. “Yeah. But I’m not sure I have enough money. For tires and everything. I don’t know how much it is, but I only have thirty dollars so far.”
Luke shrugged. “Nah. The bike’s a loan, that’s all. You’re going to grow out of it before you know it, and then you give it back, because it won’t be any use to you. So it wouldn’t be fair to pay for the parts. Call it—getting the parts in exchange for your labor.” He looked at Kayla. “That sound fair to you?”
No, it didn’t. It sounded like a major favor, and she shouldn’t say yes. But Eli was looking at her pleadingly, and if she hadn’t known how much it mattered that he have a bike like the other boys, Cal’s comments had confirmed it. Maybe it would be all right, this one time. Maybe it wasn’t just more obligation—something Luke would expect a return for.
The silence stretched out, and Luke said, “Tell you what. You come over and cook dinner for the three of us next week, so I don’t have to do it myself, and there’s another piece of labor to throw into the mix. One I’ll be grateful for, because I’m a lousy cook, and I’ll bet you’re a good one.”
His mother glanced sharply at him, and he looked blandly back at her. “Am I right, Eli?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Eli said doubtfully. “Except she mostly makes beans and things now. I don’t know if you like beans.”
“Hm. You’re right. Not my favorite,” Luke said. “How do you feel about steak?”
“Well . . .” Eli said. “It’s OK, but—”
“Now we’re getting into it. What’s your favorite?”
“Lasagna,” Eli said with decision. “Mom makes really good lasagna. But she hasn’t made it for ages, because Al—” He broke off. “Because we couldn’t have it.”
“Which means it’d be a treat. Treat for me, too. I love lasagna.” Luke looked at Kayla. “What do you say? Give me a shopping list sometime this week, come over and make lasagna for Eli and me on Saturday, the two of you keep me company for dinner? Fair trade?”
“A . . . a shopping list?” The disappointment was a lead weight in her stomach. It hadn’t just been about the dog, then, or about Eli, whatever Luke had said. He really was going to try to force her into a relationship with him. Even worse, he was using Eli, her most vulnerable point, to do it. Did every man operate this way? Even Luke?
“Oh, wait,” he said, his tone changing. “It isn’t a fair trade, is it? It feels like an unfair trade. No. Forget it.”
He got it. The relief made her hand shake a little. “No,” she decided. “I’ll cook lasagna for you. That’s fair. But I’ll choose whether to eat it with you. That’s my choice. That’s my right.”
“Yes. It is.” His hand touched hers briefly, just the slightest pressure, and moved away again. “Just leave that list on my desk. I’ll hope for your company, but it’s your choice. Always.”
“Your desk, huh?” Cal asked. His eyes had followed the two of them through the conversation, his expression all too keen.
“When I clean,” Kayla said. “I work for a cleaning service. The service that does the high school. I clean it at night.”
“Oh,” Raylene said faintly. “Oh, well,” she said again, more robustly, “that’s honest work.”
“Yes,” Kayla said, forcing herself to look Luke’s mother in the eye. “That’s what I thought.”
“Watermelon,” Raylene said, and got up and began to clear the table, Luke and Cal rising to help her as if they’d done it before. “You going to cut it for me, Stan?” she asked her husband.
“You bet I am.” He got up, too, and Kayla was left sitting with Zoe and Eli, feeling more than a little awkward now. That had been way too intense for Sunday dinner, and everybody must have seen it.
Zoe didn’t comment, thoug
h. She said, “Kayla, if Eli’s going to be working on his new bike with Luke, what do you think about coming over to Rochelle’s with me and giving me some moral support on the wedding-gown thing after dinner? If you don’t have other plans, that is,” she hurried to add. “But seriously. Come help me out. Wine will probably be involved, I warn you. No, scratch that. Wine will definitely be involved. We’ll stop at the Co-op on the way to her place, and I’ll grab a couple bottles, if I can trust you to keep me from agreeing to the poofy Good-Witch-of-the-North outfit once I’ve had a couple glasses.”
“The what?” Cal demanded, coming back to pick up the platter of ham.
“You know,” Zoe said. “The Wizard of Oz? The pink, fluffy thing with the great big skirt?”
“Oh.” He made a face. “Good point. No good witches,” he told Kayla. “That works for me. Bad witches, now . . .”
Zoe laughed. “Go away. You don’t get a vote. Your job is to stand there and stare at me and think I’m beautiful.”
“As long as you’re not wearing the suit,” he clarified. “Wear the suit, and all bets are off.”
“Geez. I got it. No suit.”
That was better. And then Raylene served up the watermelon, and Kayla hit her next stumbling block.
“So,” Raylene said, digging her spoon enthusiastically into the juicy red flesh, “how’s your mama doing, Kayla?”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Luke said, and everybody raised their heads at that. He had sensed her tension, clearly. He sensed far too much, in fact.
“No,” she said. “That’s all right. My mother died some years back, when Eli was two.”
“Oh, no,” Raylene said with distress.
“Yes.” She might as well tell them. They were family, in a way. “She had a motorcycle accident. A new boyfriend, and that was my mom. Whatever he was into, she would do. Turned out she wasn’t too good at riding a motorcycle.”
Hold Me Close Page 13
