One for the Road

by Lynne Marshall

  “Here’s your drink, Dee.” His voice tore D’Anne from her observations. His smile, meant only for her, erased the wedding pictures from her mind.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  ****

  Tyler insisted on taking his gals out to eat. Lura Mae confessed she hadn’t gotten dressed up to step out in months.

  “You can cook Sunday supper, Momma, but tonight we’re going to that Cattleman’s Steakhouse you like.”

  She walked to the huge RV with a mildly unsteady gait, linked between Tyler and D’Anne’s arms. She wore seersucker pants and a white blouse with a pearl necklace and earrings to match. Deep lines and a tan covered the skin on her face and arms.

  “Thought you’d get a kick out of driving in this. Ain’t this grand?” he said.

  D’Anne saw her eyes light up in awe when she entered the vehicle.

  “Isn’t,” she corrected her son. “Isn’t this grand.” She examined each couch, cupboard, countertop and captain’s chair in the cockpit. “In all my days, I have never seen anything like this.”

  “A regular house on wheels, hey Momma?” “Tyler, how can you afford this?”

  “It’s Dee’s, I’m renting it from her. She’s the rich one.” He flashed Dee a mischievous smile and wink.

  D’Anne rolled her eyes as Tyler started the engine and slowly pulled out of their parking space.

  “Hang on, Momma, we’re goin’ to take a ride in style.”

  The old woman covered her mouth with bony, liver spotted hands and smiled with her eyes. Fine white hair was neatly combed into a wavy, short style. D’Anne could easily see where Tyler got his gorgeous blue eyes. And from the pictures in the house, she knew he’d taken after his tall, robust father in build.

  The peek into his past made D’Anne feel curiously closer to Tyler. She thought about sharing pictures of her own sons with him, later.

  Once again, Bear impressed everyone with his humongous appetite. In between mouthfuls, he dominated the conversation with FYI’s that only Lura Mae, as a retired teacher and citizen of Odessa, could match. Tyler clearly enjoyed his mother’s company. They laughed alike and both knew how to be comfortable in silence.

  Once or twice, D’Anne caught Lura Mae studying her with curiosity. D’Anne would smile and she’d return it without the slightest bit of animosity. So different from Reese’s mother, who still grated on her nerves whenever they spent more than half an hour together.

  After dinner, they returned to the trailer park. Tyler walked his mother home and kissed her goodnight. Dexter followed. Bear and Ricky-Bob pulled out the couches, making them into beds. J.T. and his bombshell had spent the evening on their own and planned to sleep in a motel in town.

  D’Anne felt a bit at odds with herself waiting for Tyler to take Dexter on his nightly walk. Should she act like nothing had happened last night? Or let Tyler know how much she wanted him in her bed tonight, too?

  A few moments passed before Tyler returned to the RV. Dexter ran ahead of him and beat him up the steps. Tyler entered with his thumbs tucked into his pockets and the look of contentment written on his face. He took off his hat and tossed it on the captain’s seat.

  Standing at the kitchen sink filling a glass with water, D’Anne grinned at him and felt a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. She stalled at the door to her bedroom knowing he was watching her every move.

  Ricky-Bob and Bear both made a big, obvious deal out of putting their headphones on and plugging into their MP3 players to fall asleep.

  She ventured a look in Tyler’s direction, locked eyes with him, and used her own in a subtle sweep of motion toward her bed. To hell with the ‘no sex in the RV’ rule. She’d made them and she could break them.

  Tyler walked across the cabin to meet her. He took D’Anne’s arm in a firm grip and led her inside.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said under his breath, as he promptly closed the door with his boot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Spent and amazed by Tyler’s lovemaking, D’Anne rested her head in the crook of his arm. His hand cupped her shoulder in a warm, protective way. Cheek to chest, his breathing came easy, though coarse hair tickled her face with each rise and fall. She wrinkled and wiggled her nose rather than move from the deliciously comfortable position. A mesmerizing, rhythmic thumping from deep inside him lured her toward sleep.

  How had she ever had the nerve to accuse the man of not being able to get it up? It seemed he’d been hell bent on proving her theory wrong…over and over again.

  Their lovers’ scent tinged the air. Afterglow radiated from their commingled bodies. She lingered in his embrace with a wonderful sense of peace. Quiet and close in the RV bedroom, only occasional tire sounds from a nearby highway interrupted the silence. That, and Tyler’s heartbeat.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Are you awake?”

  She rose up on her elbows. “Yes.”

  He nodded and made a contented smile.

  D’Anne rested her chin on her palms and tried not to look goo-goo eyed at him. She switched into a playful mock business voice. “Regardless of what you may think, Mr. White, you can’t get away with paying my salary by trading favors. I need to get paid just like the others.” She glanced across the room to the chair. “The Dalmatian and its contents don’t count.”

  “Sorry about the misunderstanding.” He used both hands to pull her onto his chest.

  She straddled him. “What misunderstanding?”

  He took an extra large helping of both of her hips. “I thought you said ‘I need to get laid’.” Tyler flashed his try-not-to-love-me grin.

  D’Anne did her best to ignore it. She bucked her hips and tried to roll away, but Tyler wouldn’t let her. “It never pays to sleep with your boss,” she grumbled.

  “The way I see it, I should be paying you double…quadruple!” He wrapped his arms tight around her and squeezed. “You’re all woman, Dee. Not like those bony little girls they try to pass off in the movies.” He took a deep breath. “You smell good, too.” One hand wandered down her back and over her rump. He patted her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta use the bathroom.”

  She rolled off and the instant they lost contact she missed him. Not a good sign. Don’t get attached, she warned herself, he’s just a distraction and a ticket home. Nothing more, nothing less. Until she straightened out the mess with the mysterious cash left by Reese and figured out to whom it really belonged, she wouldn’t use a cent. She needed to get paid.

  D’Anne lay in the center of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her sons popped into her head, triggering a twinge of guilt. Discovering a tiny hangnail on her index finger, she gnawed on it with a vengeance. She missed them and looked forward to seeing them soon. She turned on the bed stand light and rifled through the drawer for pictures of Dean and Randy.

  The sudden sight of Tyler wearing only boxers in the doorway stole her breath. Big. She remembered thinking that the first time she’d met him. Gentle. He could crush and break her without much effort, yet she felt safe and adored when their bodies were tangled in heat and need. Huge.

  He made her feel…alive…very alive.

  “You make me want to smoke,” he spoke softly from across the room.

  “Oh, you were smokin’ all right.” D’Anne smiled and blushed at her boldness. He couldn’t disguise the pride bursting from his chest as he swaggered toward her. She could almost see an imaginary hand patting his back, another job well done.

  “What you got there?” He sat on the bed.

  “These are my boys.” Eager to share, she offered a couple of pictures to Tyler.

  He reached for the photos, interest in his eyes. “That one’s Dean, my oldest.” D’Anne sat up, modestly hugging the covers to her chest. “He’s twenty-four and working on his Master’s degree in business administration. Great kid, I mean, young man. Some girl’s gonna be lucky to get him.”

  Tyler nodded and studied the picture, sucked a tooth. “He resembles yo
u. Got your eyes.”

  “And this is Randy, my wild child.” She handed off the second picture. “He has all the potential in the world, but hasn’t harnessed it. He’s twenty-two and hasn’t even started college yet.” She rolled her eyes, grabbed her hair, and made a fake, quiet scream.

  Tyler watched the covers drop, glanced briefly at her breasts, then back to the picture.

  “When he was in high school we had to use tough love on him.” She rolled her eyes again. “I should say, I had to use tough love. Reese was always such a push over. Anyway, Randy decided to stop going to school, so I asked the principal if I could attend all of his classes with him to make sure he wasn’t skipping any, and she agreed. You can imagine he wanted to kill me. But guess what, it cured him. He stopped ditching and managed to graduate.”

  He looked at Randy for a few seconds. “Good for you, Dee. Some boys need to get their asses kicked once or twice is all, and some just need more time than others.” He laughed. “Hell, my momma’s still waitin’ for me to become an accountant.” Tyler gazed at D’Anne with gentle eyes. “You know your license plate is ass backwards. They’re lucky boys to have you as a mother.” He handed the picture back, eased down onto the pillow, and laced his fingers behind his head.

  “Well, you may get a chance to meet them in Vegas. Dean insisted on coming. I’m hoping Randy will, too, but I never know with him.” She scooped the blankets back up and lay beside him, resting on her elbow. “Do you have kids?”

  He wrapped her in a welcoming grasp. “Nope. I wanted to make sure I didn’t have any until my career was set.” He scrubbed his face with the other hand. “So it never happened. Good thing, too.”

  “I think you’d have been a great dad,” she said. “Think so?”

  “Totally.” She sighed with comfort before a distressing thought crossed her mind. “That’s the lucky thing about men. It’s never too late to have kids. All you need to do is find some sweet young thing and there you go.” She pretended not to be envious.

  He froze.

  “You’re a straight shooter, Dee. But I’m not looking for a sweet young thing.” He ran his thumb lightly across her knuckles, played with her fingertips. “I got my sweet thing right here.” He lifted her hand to his lips and gave gentle kisses before shaking his head. “Hell, people sure know where they stand with you.”

  D’Anne felt a surge of confidence and posed a risky, girlie-type question. “And where do we stand, Tyler? You and me.” She chanced a look into his smoky blue eyes.

  The topic hadn’t fazed him, at least not openly. He flashed a charming smile, tightened his grip and jerked her near, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We stand right here in my hometown, getting ready to make love again.”

  He gave her a deep and tender kiss on the lips like he meant to show her something special, then broke away and reached across to turn off the light. Tyler drew her back and whispered in her ear, “Wanna fool around?”

  ****

  With practiced domesticity, Dee helped put the food out for Sunday supper. Tyler’s mouth watered— and not from the banquet. The small table overflowed with an abundance of Lura Mae’s specialties. A huge ham sat at the center, sliced and juicy. There’d be no getting around overeating without running the risk of insulting his mother and that was out of the question.

  He looked at Dee and shrugged his shoulders when he reached for a plate and began loading it with food. Deviled eggs, potato salad, ham, ambrosia, beans, and greens, on and on, he piled it high, topping it off with a buttermilk biscuit.

  Dee rolled her eyes and whispered, “Oh, what the hell,” and followed his lead.

  Tyler watched her appreciatively as she stacked her plate. He liked how she went all girlish and blushed whenever she caught him admiring her. Hell, he just liked her…he liked her a lot.

  Briefly pondering the difference in their backgrounds, he wondered how it compared with hers. His father, an oil worker, had provided a decent middle class home for their family in Odessa. Only after retirement did his parents move to the trailer park. There was enough memorabilia left around to share most of his youth with Dee. He’d noticed her taking it all in the day before and wondered what she thought of his modest upbringing.

  He balanced a plate on his knees and attempted to eat without dropping or spilling anything. Dang, Momma can still cook.

  Lura Mae looked thrilled to see Bear and Ricky-Bob come back for seconds before she had even started on her own plate. It made Tyler chuckle inside. As musicians, they’d worked together off and on over the years, but had really become close this time around, sort of like extended family. It occurred to him how much he enjoyed being on the road, searching for success, and couldn’t think of a better group to do it with.

  “Tyler? May I have a word with you?” his mother asked.

  He put his plate on the coffee table, wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, and followed her inside the tiny kitchen, stooping to clear the threshold.

  She waited for the swinging door to settle down and close before she spoke in hushed tones. “And just what are your intentions with that married woman, Tyler?”

  Shee-it. He never could hide anything from her. She must have seen past his shield the moment he introduced her to Dee.

  “She’s a widow, Momma. I’m not doing anything wrong.” He switched his weight from one hip to the other. As tiny as she was, his mother always could make him feel uncomfortable when she wanted to. Hot sudsy water in the sink added to the oven heated room, making it humid and close. He fought the urge to wipe his moist brow.

  She spoke in a fast whisper. “Then she’s vulnerable and you hadn’t ought to take advantage of her fragile state.”

  “Take advantage of her!” He quickly lowered his voice, glanced at the door, and hoped no one had heard. “You raised me right. I wouldn’t do that. You know I couldn’t live with myself if I did. Besides, she’s a strong woman, she won’t take no crap from any man.”

  “Any crap,” she corrected. “Do you love her?”

  Did he? Damn, why did she always have to be so direct. He knew he hadn’t felt the kind of things Dee brought out in him since he was a young man. That’s what he liked. They both seemed to be starting fresh. It felt right, and damn good with her. Did he have to put a label on it so soon?

  “I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”

  Lura Mae wiped her hands on her apron and her eyes softened. “I only want you to be happy, Tyler. It seems to me you’ve got a shot at it with that one.” She pointed with her head toward the door.

  ****

  “Well look at that. Isn’t that a wonderful thought?” Lura Mae said when she and D’Anne approached the VW Rabbit. She had stopped in her tracks and openly pondered the license for a few seconds. “A Lucky Mom. How sweet. Who made that for you?”

  D’Anne smiled. At last, someone understood her California plate. Of course, only another mother could see the essence of the thought.

  “My sons gave me that for Mother’s Day many years ago.” For once she didn’t feel compelled to over-explain when she opened the passenger door for Tyler’s mother.

  “I still have a wooden paper weight Tyler made for me at camp one summer.” She giggled. “Ugliest thing you’d ever want to see, but he was so proud. You just got to love ’em, don’t you?” She used both hands on the door to help herself inside in a slow and stiff manner. “Getting in is the easy part,” she said with a grimace.

  D’Anne watched, ready to jump to her aid if needed. With Lura Mae settled inside, she walked to the driver’s side and got into the car. They had promised to meet up with Tyler and the band at the outdoor stage after they’d finished cleaning up the kitchen. The guys left early in the RV to warm up and get the equipment together.

  “Look, I’m not going to mince my words. I believe my son is in love with you,” Lura Mae said, as easy as talking about yet another hot day in Odessa. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  The woman spoke so
matter of factly that D’Anne almost fell out of the car.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He looks at you the same way my Russell used to look at me.” She turned and stared out the window. “There’s no mistaking that look.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “Tyler’s made some bad choices in his life, but I don’t think you’d be one of them.”

  D’Anne started the engine and put the Rabbit in reverse.

  “I’d like to see him happy for a change,” Lura Mae said. She glanced toward her with an earnest, expectant look.

  “Lura Mae?” D’Anne shifted to drive. “The only person who can make Tyler happy is Tyler.”

  Mrs. White smoothed her slacks and sat a little straighter. “When it comes to happiness, Dee, we can all use a little help.”

  ****

  Tyler stood on the stage, guitar in hand, handsome and relaxed like he was born to sing. Front row seats had been reserved for the ladies. D’Anne marveled at his larger-than-life presence. She thought she might have fallen down a rabbit hole since she started the trip home two weeks ago. So surreal was this journey, so different from her old life. How soon they would part niggled in the back of her mind. A week? She shook her head, refusing to let anything spoil the moment.

  “We all sing about freedom, in the land of the free…”

  The stage lights washed Tyler’s features clear. From where she sat, he looked like a glowing, yellow haired Greek god in cowboy boots and hat.

  “We all talk about justice…it’s real for you and me.”

  “About the blessings heaped upon us, we all rave ’cause it’s true…”

  The band was definitely on tonight. Bear plucked the banjo to perfection. Ricky-Bob swayed with his heartfelt mandolin accompaniment. And J.T., seeming more subdued than usual, used brushes to create a subtle snare drum marching beat.