Sutton’s smile matched hers as he reached for her hand. “It’s been even longer for me. We’ll leave your vehicle here and take mine. Let me know what you want from the Den before I call in our order.”
“Everything they make is delicious, so order whatever you like.” She stared at him when he took out his phone and tapped an app. “I can’t believe you’ve downloaded the Den on your cell.”
He winked at her. “Anything to save time.” He tapped the screen again. “Done. I paid so it will be ready by the time we get there.”
Zoey noticed furtive stares as she walked with Sutton and realized it was only a matter of time before word spread that Sutton Reed was seen holding hands with Zoey Allen. Not only was he a returning hometown hero, but she hadn’t been seen with a man since graduating high school.
Let them talk, she thought. It was the same thing her father said when he returned from a road trip with a new wife who was not only not much older than his daughter but also obviously pregnant. Zoey did not understand the whispers and sly glances whenever she and Charmaine went downtown to shop until Charmaine told her that some people needed to gossip about something to make themselves appear knowledgeable. And then warned her about repeating things she’d overheard because once the words came off her tongue she could not retrieve them.
Although she missed her father, she missed her stepmother more because Charmaine was there with her and her brothers every day. Zoey had looked forward to coming home after school to sit in the kitchen to do homework while Charmaine prepared dinner. What she enjoyed most were the stories about her stepmom’s coal-mining ancestors who had taken a leading role in union organizing and were active in strikes that battled scabs and hired private guards the owners brought in to intimidate the workers. And once Charmaine trusted her to use the stove and oven without burning down the house, her cooking lessons began, and by the time she was sixteen she was able to perfect meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
It had taken Zoey a long time, even years, to convince herself that her father was gone and not coming back because she’d gotten so used to his being away from home for work, and then coming back days and sometimes weeks later. The day she celebrated her twenty-first birthday she’d locked herself in her room for hours crying inconsolably, until Kyle and Harper knocked on the door and pleaded for her to come out. While experiencing her crying jag, it was as if she could see the events in her young life like frames of film, and they were littered with losses. She’d lost her mother, father and stepmother, and she prayed she would live long enough to raise her brothers to adulthood.
Zoe finally emerged, face puffy, eyes swollen, and lied that she hadn’t been feeling well. She managed to laugh when they offered to make toast and tea because they were aware of what she would eat whenever she was threatening a cold. She thanked them for their concern, and told them because it was a milestone birthday she was taking them to Ruthie’s to celebrate. Her brothers liked going to the restaurant because they could choose whatever they wanted to eat. Zoey always cautioned them not to eat too much or they would be too full and unable to eat dessert. The dessert selections were kids’ favorites with pies, tarts, cakes and soft-serve custard.
Her blue funk continued for more than a week, and she’d contemplating going back into therapy but feared the therapist would document that she was not emotionally stable enough to take care of her siblings. And for Zoey that was not an option, and she swore an oath that she would do whatever was humanly possible to keep her family together.
Sutton helped her up into the Jeep and waited for her to secure the seat belt before rounding the vehicle and slipping behind the wheel. She stared straight ahead rather than glance at his distinctive profile. After photo shoots where his face and body had appeared on the covers of so many magazines and countless interviews, she wondered if he did miss some of the attention.
“What did you order?”
“Stuff.”
Zoey turned to look at Sutton. He was smiling. “What kind of stuff?”
“Chicken, brisket, ribs and a number of side dishes.”
“No okra?” she teased.
“You got jokes?”
Her expression mirrored innocence. “No. I’ve heard that the Den offered fried okra, which isn’t prepared the same as the okra in succotash.”
“Fried or boiled, I just don’t like it.”
“What else don’t you like, so I can keep that in mind if or when I ever invite you over for Sunday dinner?”
Stopping at the four-way intersection, Sutton waited for traffic to clear to cross the road. “You’re going to cook for me?”
“Not for you personally, Sutton. I’m old-fashioned when it comes to having Sunday dinner, because it is a family tradition I try to keep.”
“So, now I’m family?”
“Not quite.”
“What do you mean by ‘not quite’? Either I am or I’m not.”
“You’re my friend and a neighbor, and I’ve always invited neighbors over in the past. Before she moved to Ohio, Miss Sharon would join us a couple of times a month.”
* * *
Sutton decided not to get into a back-and-forth with Zoey. Just the fact that she’d invited him to her home to eat something other than dessert should have ended the discussion, but he wanted to know if her inviting him for what she considered a family tradition had any bearing on how she felt about him.
And it was true that they were friends and neighbors, yet he wanted more. Sutton wanted to be able to call and invite her out to dinner or to a movie. In other words, he wanted to date her. He’d had one serious relationship following his divorce and in hindsight he should’ve ended it before it had begun. He did not blame the woman as much as he did himself because he’d realized too late that his reason for seeing her was loneliness. From the time he’d tried out and made the high school baseball team, he was a part of a group, a crew that depended on one another for success. His squad mentality continued throughout college and his baseball career. However, the exception was his marriage. Once he walked through the door of his house, all he wanted and needed was his wife. He was able to mentally shut out the roar of the crowd and his trash-talking teammates. What he hadn’t wanted to come home to was strangers milling inside and outside the home he considered his sanctuary and have them greet him as if he was just another one of Angell’s guests.
The woman he’d dated for more than a year was similar in appearance and temperament to his ex-wife. When he’d introduced her, some people had asked if she was a model. That’s when the lightbulb went off. He had a stereotype when it came to a woman: most were tall and slender model types. And Zoey Allen was no exception, because he’d found Zoey to be a natural beauty without the coiffed hair, makeup and designer clothes. If he thought her attractive, then no doubt other men also did.
She’s waiting to become a nurse and she’s waiting to get a boyfriend. Mr. Reed, I want you to promise me you’re not going to mess over my sister.
Harper’s words were branded into his brain like a permanent tattoo. Was the teenager sending him signals that he wanted him with Zoey? Or perhaps he was reading more into their conversation because he did want an easygoing and uncomplicated relationship with her.
Not only did he like Zoey, but he also admired her quiet strength and family loyalty. He didn’t know how many high school seniors were willing to assume the responsibility of rearing their younger siblings when they were looking and planning their own futures that did not include becoming a guardian or surrogate parent. She had delayed pursuing a career and relationships because her family had become a priority.
He had reached a point in his life when he wanted children, while Zoey talked about delaying marriage and starting a family because after Harper graduated college she needed to experience a time in her life when she wanted to be responsible only for herself.
And for Sutton, it was family he cov
eted most. It was the reason he relocated his mother from Wickham Falls to Atlanta, bought a house and vehicle for her and deposited money in an account to ensure a comfortable lifestyle. Family was also the reason why he’d returned to his hometown when Georgina informed him that she was leaving Powell’s to open her own business and asked if he would step up and fill the void in management. Her request had come at the right time; he’d put his condo on the market and had planned to leave Atlanta with the possibility of relocating to Washington, DC, because he’d fallen in love with the capital city.
“What time is Sunday dinner?” he asked Zoey after a comfortable silence.
“Three.”
“What if I return the favor the following Sunday?”
Zoey shifted on her seat and gave him a direct stare. “That sounds like a plan.”
“Take my cell and program your number. If for some reason our plans change, then I’ll text you.”
Grabbing his cell phone attached to the holder on the dashboard, she entered her name and number in his contacts. She then removed her phone from her bucket bag. “What’s your number?” He gave her his number and she returned the phone to her bag.
Sutton smiled, believing he’d won a small victory. He didn’t know why, but he thought Zoey would reject his offer. Other than grilling steak and corn and inviting Zoey and Harper to join him, it had been a while since he’d cooked for someone other than himself. And one of the best things to have come from his marriage was his mother-in-law’s cooking lessons. When he and Angell went house hunting, she insisted they purchase a home with a mother-in-law suite because she wanted her mother to live with them. He had no qualms having his wife’s mother sharing their roof because he really liked the soft-spoken widow who had grown close to her only daughter after losing her husband to complications of diabetes.
During his team’s home stands, Sutton spent most of his free time in the kitchen with Elizabeth Tompkins, who patiently taught him to duplicate recipes passed down through generations of women in her family. Elizabeth did not bother to hide her frustrations when Angell would permit herself only a tablespoon portion of everything her mother had put on the table. It was obvious his wife had an eating disorder, which she vehemently denied whenever he insisted she seek counseling. The ritual at home was he and Elizabeth cooked and ate, while Angell starved herself in order to stay thin.
“Do you want a traditional Southern Sunday dinner with fried chicken or baked ham with all the fixings or something a little different?”
“How different, Sutton?”
“A pork crown roast stuffed with apple sausage stuffing, braised red cabbage and a sweet potato casserole.”
“You’re a gourmet cook!”
Sutton shook his head. “Not hardly. My ex-mother-in-law is a caterer and she taught me whatever I know about preparing different dishes.”
“Lucky you.”
The two words lacked emotion and Sutton wondered if talking about his ex-wife’s mother had Zoey believing that he wasn’t ready to let go of his past. A pregnant silence followed as he headed in the direction of the Wolf Den and maneuvered into an empty parking space. “Wait here, and I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Eight
Zoey stared through the windshield and waited for Sutton to return. His voice was filled with pride when he’d talked about his mother-in-law, and she wondered if he still was in contact with the woman or his ex-wife. She enjoyed the time she spent with Sutton, and while attempting to read more into their association, she didn’t want to interact with a man who couldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriends or wives.
After she broke up with her high school boyfriend, a few men had attempted to come on to her, but she’d quickly rejected them with the excuse that she didn’t have time for a relationship because of her brothers. All accepted her rejection with the exception of one who tried to convince her that he wasn’t put off because she was responsible for raising her siblings. Not only was he nearly twenty years her senior, but he was also a widower with three teenage girls and could not stop talking about his deceased wife. It was obvious he was looking for a stepmother for his girls, and there was no way she was willing to compete with a dead woman. Barely out of her teens herself, Zoey knew she also wasn’t equipped to deal with five children and remain sane. It had taken some effort, but she was finally able to convince him to stop dropping by her house on the threat of serving him with a restraining order.
Now, when it came to Sutton she felt as if she was on an emotional roller coaster. She liked him but the fear of becoming too involved caused her to put up barriers to keep him at a distance. There were times when she was ashamed of her less-than-friendly tone and the need to challenge him because she had to remind herself that Sutton was going to be her temporary neighbor. After the new year he would move away, and she would be left with memories of a man who only had to stare at her to remind her of what she’d been missing and denying for more than a decade: a woman who hadn’t had sex in a very long time. And Sutton Reed was definitely not a fumbling, inexperienced boy but a mature man who had not only dated women but also married one. Sutton returned and Zoey shifted on her seat to see him place two large shopping bags on the rear seats.
“What on earth did you buy?” she asked, as he got in beside her.
Sutton winked at her. “Stuff.”
Zoey couldn’t stop the smile spreading over her features. “You and your stuff.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You’ll see.”
Ten minutes later she sat on the blanket Sutton kept in his vehicle for emergencies along with a first aid kit, staring at containers of brisket, barbecue chicken, ribs and sides of potato, macaroni, three-bean salads and chilled bottles of water, along with paper plates, napkins, cups and plastic knives, forks and spoons. He’d spread the blanket out under the sweeping branches of a large maple tree.
“I like this.”
He handed her a plate. “I’m glad you approve.”
“You don’t need my approval, Sutton.”
He went still, meeting her eyes. “Yes, I do, Zoey. It means a lot to me.”
A slight frown furrowed her smooth forehead. “Why?”
“Don’t you know?”
She blinked. He’d answered her question with one of his own. “No, I don’t.”
“Let’s eat first, then I’ll tell you.”
Zoey surveyed The Clearing. Some of the picnic tables were filled with teenagers enjoying their last bit of daytime freedom before the start of classes and others were occupied with families taking advantage of the warm summer afternoon. A group of mothers watched as their young children played tag, their high-pitched screams competing with the incessant chatter of birds flitting from branch to branch and tree to tree. The aroma of grilling meat and the distinctive smell of burnt marshmallows lingered in the air. She recalled bringing Harper and Kyle to The Clearing to make s’mores, and then she would take them to the waterfall that gave the town its name. They never ceased to be in awe of the rush of water falling over the rocks to the rapids below and then flowing into a lake brimming with fish that was a fisherman’s nirvana.
Several teenage girls lay on blankets in direct sunlight to deepen their already tanned bodies, while a number of couples sought the cover of trees to escape the harmful rays of the brilliant August sun.
Zoey opened a bottle of water and took a long swallow, and then filled her plate with bite-size pieces of meat, and then followed with salads. Sutton unscrewed the top to his water bottle and touched his to hers.
“Bon appétit,” he said, grinning.
“Buen provecho,” she countered in Spanish, shifting her position and crossing her legs in an easy pose, then balancing her plate on her knees. Zoey took a bite of brisket and rolled her eyes upward. It was so tender it literally melted on her tongue. “Oh, my gosh. This is so good!”
“How often d
o you go to the Den?”
“I go there, but only to order takeout. It’s a sports bar and not a place I’d wanted to expose my brothers to because they serve alcohol. How about yourself?”
Sutton chewed and swallowed a mouthful of macaroni salad. “When I was in high school some of the kids would stop by after winning a home game and the Gibsons would sit us in the rear of the restaurant while the coaches and parents sat up front closer to the bar. And the few times I came home while still in college I would occasionally stop in, but never to drink.”
“You don’t drink?”
“Only occasionally. Once I was assigned as the team’s first baseman, Coach Evans took me aside and told me something that I’ve never forgotten. He predicted that if I worked hard and stayed out of trouble I would be able to play in the big leagues. Then he confided that college recruiters were asking about me, and they’d hired a private detective to surveil me and whenever I was randomly drug tested they wanted to see the results. The college did not want to give me a free education for me to mess up. It’s the same with professional sports, Zoey. Some dudes are signed to multimillion-dollar contracts only to literally piss it away when they get drunk or high and bust up a joint or assault someone. But, the owners of these teams just don’t get it. It is too much money for kids who never had much or are barely out of their teens to handle. They splurge on cars, jewelry, women, buy homes for their family members and try to give the boys they grew up with everything they ask for.” He held up a hand. “And before you ask me about the Aston Martin, I didn’t buy it. I did a commercial for the manufacturer and rather than accept monetary payment, I asked for the car.”
A beat passed. “How did you react to what Coach Evans told you?” Zoey asked.
“I was shocked and frightened, because I hadn’t thought I had the skills to play in the majors. I loved playing baseball, but I was also partial to history. My goal was to graduate college and teach, yet knew I couldn’t play pro ball and teach at the same time. Teams begin spring training in February and the regular season runs from late March or early April through late September or early October. And if your team makes the postseason, then early November.”
A Winning Season Page 10
