by Lass Small
Tyler didn’t pay much attention to the crowd after he knew Kayla wasn’t there. He muttered to himself that, with their divorce, she’d shunned watching him play ball. Her absence was probably why he couldn’t hit a home run.
Well, hell, he hadn’t hit one when she was there. Why did he expect to get a homer when she wasn’t there?
He’d probably finally swat a home run when she wasn’t watching, and she’d never realize that he could hit one. She would never know. That was too bad.
When he finally hit one, maybe he could talk the newspaper into commenting on the home run. The whole story with a picture of him swinging the bat. Yes.
However, the sports editors and reporters were never around for long. They came late and took notes.
If Tyler ever got in the paper with a home run, he’d want to pose for a picture. He could swing the bat. It would look like he’d just hit the ball.
From his office, the next day, Tyler called the newspaper but he had a hard time tracking down the reporter, Omar. When Tyler finally accomplished that little fact, he asked the reporter, “You going out to the games at the parks this year?”
“Maybe.”
“Why don’t you come on out? Bring your family. I’ll treat you to a beer.”
Omar stated it with disgust: “You want your pitchur in the paper.” He actually called it that.
“I’m divorced.”
Omar inquired, softly snide, “You trying to lure somebody?”
“My parents would love a picture of me in the paper.”
“Yeah, but it’s you that wants the pitchur.”
Tyler lost his aloof manner. “Hey! You’d give me a copy of the blowup?”
“For a decent price.”
“How much?” Tyler was cautious.
“I’ll see.”
Thoughtfully, Tyler commented, “I don’t think it ought to be life-size.”
Omar laughed as he hung up.
Once a week, after work, Tyler would go out to play baseball. He was alert and diligent as a player. However, being on second base, he could glance along the sidelines and out on the field and he’d note any movement in the stands.
He understood he was watching for Kayla to come watch him. Why would she do that? Would she? Nah. He ought to give it up.
There was no indication, at all, that she still had any interest in him. He’d filed the divorce to get her attention, but she hadn’t even seemed to notice. And now, she was distanced from him. She had put herself out of his reach.
It was sad.
Tyler began to seriously look around at other women. He went places in a protective group of his longtime friends. Watching the women, he noticed who spoke and who was aloof. Women didn’t cotton to divorced men too well. If the man was divorced, there was something wrong somewhere, and women blamed it on the man.
Why would they do that? A guy worked his butt off to feed and clothe a woman, and she divorced him the first chance she had.
Kayla hadn’t asked for any alimony. But Kayla had her own money. She didn’t need him. She was newly unhitched from him, and now she was free and clear of any husband. She could do whatever she wanted. He had no control over her.
He’d never had any control over her, at all!
What—all—was she doing?
He and his buddies from grade school went everywhere she might be and looked for Kayla. While Tyler slouched along with his hands in his pockets, he would grind his teeth and be shocked because he never found her.
When he called for her, Henrietta said her roomie was busy with work and not dating much at all.
Hennie would lie. She was a cat-loving, compassionate woman and she’d lie so a rejected ex could feel good.
Of course, it was Tyler who had divorced Kayla. He needed to remember that. It had been his idea as a way to catch her attention. Dumb. He still had to grow up a little.
He couldn’t wait to change himself. If he waited very long, she’d be married next to some useless, money-sucking guy.
But to “casually run across her” was a problem. Tyler even slid his way—solo—into a Davie gathering, in hopes of finding Kayla. She wasn’t there.
So he called her. Only Hennie answered their phone. She never knew where Kayla was at that time. She said every time, “I’ll tell her you called.”
But Kayla never called back.
Tyler had divorced her.
Well, he’d wanted her attention. With the threat of divorce, she ought to have come to him on her knees.
No one had ever seemed to understand his divorce move was to garner her attention. They all just thought he was stupid. His dad had been disgusted with him.
And while his mother knew he was far beyond Kayla, she also thought he wasn’t working with a full deck and took after his daddy’s side of the family.
“You’re very like your father’s cousin Douthit,” his mother had warned. “He’s never shown any real understanding of anything. It would be very like him to divorce such a woman. Although, unlike you, Douthit has never been that stupid. He has clung to Sylvia through everything. I don’t know how many times she’s filed for divorce, and he’s talked her out of it. Perhaps you should seek him and discuss your problem with...Douthit?”
“Mother,” Tyler had said earnestly. “I am your child.”
And his mother had observed him stonily and finally replied, “Yes. I know.”
A nothing reply that was hardly a vote of approval.
Tyler’s brothers and sisters found him stupid. They scoffed and snorted and didn’t even listen to his side of it Kayla had left him. She and the four dogs she’d bought at the pit. She’d driven away with the dogs in his car, leaving him there. And in the morning, she had been gone. She and the four briefly acquired dogs.
Besides his brothers, the only staunch, noncritical acquaintances Tyler had were the dregs of his childhood friends. A couple of them were divorced. None of them offered Tyler any advice or criticism. They were simply around.
And on occasion, his brothers were along. It was the same way. His brothers were there. They talked to his friends and to him about everything, but none ever mentioned Kayla.
Members of his male support group went along with whatever Tyler wanted. They were tolerant. They didn’t roll their eyes or sigh, they just went along and were around. He had good brothers and good friends.
His sisters were a lot like his parents. Females are strange. If a man could just reprogram their thought processes—But even his kindergarten buddies doubted that would work. And his brothers just laughed over such a plan in a kind, gentle way.
By purest accident, Tyler asked a cousin of hers, “Where’s Kayla?”
And her cousin replied, “Oh, she’s gone ballooning with Tom Keeper, I believe, out west of here.”
“She’s what?” Tyler didn’t know which was worse, her being in a hot-air balloon or being with Tom Keeper. Finders keepers, losers weepers! Where had that thought come from? Was his subconscious telling him he was the odd man out?
Six
So the next morning, Tyler went downtown. He drove into the tiered parking garage and eased the nose of his car into his allotted slot on the slightly fanned corner. The time would come when he had the clout to assume he’d be given one of the wider, parallel slots.
Without even having to consider his route, Tyler went through the car maze, down the elevator, out of the garage, down the street, into the firm’s building and up to his shared office.
If he’d had to think about doing all that, he probably would have gotten lost. It was his giving in to his directional brain that got him where he was to go. His brain was mapped. And if he didn’t interfere with it, he got where he was supposed to go.
Along the way, he had nodded to greetings without ever knowing he did that. And he responded in a rote manner to Jamie’s automatic “Good morning.”
But Tyler’s distracted reply caused Jamie to look up from his usual concentration as to what was on his desktop.
He frowned at Tyler. “What’s going on?”
Not even lifting his eyes, Tyler said through his teeth, “She’s gone ballooning with that damned bastard.”
Jamie knew who the “she” probably was so he just inquired, “Who’s...the damned bastard?”
Tyler muttered through his teeth in a very hottempered way, “Tom Keeper.”
“I hadn’t known he was a bastard.” In his mild exclamation, Jamie was being subtly chiding. “If fact, I met his parents not—”
Distracted, ordering his papers, Tyler growled, “For Keeper, being a bastard isn’t necessarily genetic.”
Watching Tyler’s hunt, Jamie inquired carefully, “What paper are you looking for?”
And Tyler still didn’t look up. “I’m separating my workload so Miss Nelson can spread it out. You’ll probably get the most of it.”
“I’ll help her. Give the files to me.”
“Thank you.” Tyler put the stack down on Jamie’s desk. He finally looked at Jamie.
And Jamie, oddly enough, was not looking at his papers as he generally did. He was looking right at Tyler. And he was very serious.
Tyler told Jamie, “I’m going out to where they’re ballooning.”
“You’re going to have to ask Barb for time. And she’ll ask why and where you’ll be.”
“She’s damned nosy.”
“Careful.” Jamie’s voice was very soft. “Anyone who is in charge must know where the crew is. She’ll need to know where you’ll be, for how long and she will ask why.”
“Family business.”
Jamie considered. “She may not accept only that.” “I’ll quit.”
“The firm we’re going to isn’t yet ready for us.”
The kind manner of Jamie’s reply caused Tyler’s eyes to focus on his partner. “Yes.” Tyler took a steadying breath. “I’m a little rattled. I wasn’t being logical. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Tell me what you plan to do. Are you carrying a gun?”
“No. For Pete’s sake, Jamie. I’m not—I wouldn’t use a gun. I might throttle the guy, but I wouldn’t shoot him.”
Stoically, Jamie commented, “That problem is out of the way.” But he continued his intense concentration on Tyler. “Now tell me what you plan to do. First, tell me where they are ballooning at this time of the year.”
Tyler replied readily but with an inpatient movement of one hand, “Out west.”
“Out...west.” Jamie’s hesitated, underlined echo was deliberate. “That covers quite a bit of territory. West TEXAS is rather large. You need to be more specific.”
“I’ll call in.”
The reply was okay, but Jamie knew it was vague and probably Tyler would not remember to call in. So Jamie inquired bluntly, “What route do you take?”
And being a TEXAN, Tyler parroted quickly, “I-10.”
Hell, that old trail was a longtime track that had been turned into a highway. It went from Florida to California. Anybody knew that. Jamie was more specific. “—and you turn off... where?”
Tyler looked up with such innocent eyes that Jamie could have kicked him. Tyler said logically, “It’ll be along the highway.”
“You’ll just go tooling along those hundreds of miles and stop when you see the balloons?”
Tyler’s stoney eyes considered his pushy office mate. Tyler said a hostile, “Yeah.” It sounded like a matchstick on his shoulder.
“You don’t know where the ballooning starts or which way the wind is blowing.”
“I’ll find out.”
“Let’s do that now.”
“Jamie.” It was a serious warning.
However, Jamie ignored that and just picked up his phone. He punched in a number he knew. It was the weather station at the airport. He asked, “Can you tell me if there are any balloon races out west of here?” He listened and wrote on a page. He said, “I see.” He listened some more. “Ummm.” He was silent again. “Yeah.” And he said, “Thank you.”
As Jamie hung up, he looked at Tyler. “What’s the name of her ballooning group?”
“Huh?”
Looking at the paper on which he’d jotted notes, he asked more specifically, “Which group is she with?”
And Tyler’s gaunt face was a total blank. He was sunk. He lowered his eyes to his desk and just stood there.
Jamie got up but he did not come closer. He said, “There are five different, organized groups slated for today. These are out from the other side of Uvalde and on beyond. It must be a good day... but then all days in TEXAS are good days.”
Tyler did not respond to that old saw at all.
Jamie said, “You could call Tom’s office and see which race he’s in.”
Tyler’s sad eyes rose to look at Jamie. “I’d have to give my name.”
“I’ll call.”
“Tom’s people know you.”
“You want to sneak in? Tyler, you have to know a balloon race is not in one place. They are balloons. They lift off and float to various places.”
Tyler looked down at his desk. He had nothing to say. He was zonked.
Jamie said, “Let’s go out for coffee.”
“She’ll kill us.”
“Barbara?” Jamie grinned. “If her guards notice we’re gone, it’ll be an excuse to be in her office and having her talk at me.” His smile widened. “When I leave here, I’m going to womannap her for lunch.”
In some intense curiosity, Tyler asked, “You’re going to eat her?”
Jamie laughed. “I’m going to have a farewell meal with her. She can’t refuse. It would be rude of her and she has good manners.”
That last sentence made Tyler blink. He didn’t know of a more rude and outspoken woman in all his life! It showed his regard for Jamie in that Tyler didn’t make any comment. He bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything at all. It wasn’t entirely courteous self-control. It was because Jamie watched him with a deadly eye.
Jamie’s conduct and concern for Tyler was an indication that Jamie wouldn’t reject his friendship with Tyler any more than he’d reject his love for that woman. Love was something no human person could guide or control. What was...was!
Even Tyler was guilty of such a lack of logic and control. He loved that awful, snotty, independent woman Kayla.
Ummmm. That was two women Tyler didn’t see as being fine, gentle women. Could this rejective attitude be...from him? Was he the culprit of critical hostility?
Naw.
He was a decent, levelheaded, well-bred man. He’d been taught what was proper and what was not.
His dad tended to be profemale, especially with Kayla. He called her the darlin’ and missed having her around.
Tyler had been raised like the gentle man that he was. He protected women and country. Actually, the country came first. If you didn’t have a country, a man might not have a woman. So establishing and protecting the country was vital.
Along with the country, and women, he was for justice and men’s rights. Uhhh. Women’s rights also, but he needed to monitor the list.
And just because he’d gone through with the threatened divorce, Kayla hadn’t lifted one finger to beg his forgiveness.
Women are underhanded and strange. No man should be tied to a woman. He ought to see one now and then to give her children. He did have to be sure the kids were being raised properly. And see the woman just to realize the female conduct wasn’t only his imagination.
So in his thinking, he rose to stand erect as Barbara Nelson came into the office to speak to him. She ignored the standing Jamie. What a witch.
Tyler looked dismissively at Miss Nelson, and she smiled. He said in a level voice, “My eardrums are burst. I cannot hear anything.” He said that through her own speech—which he could hear perfectly well.
He was so disgusted with everything—not getting to leave and search for Kayla and now having such a woman come into the office—that he was really ticked. He thought of the deafness excuse without any problem
at all. He said, “Tell it to Jamie.” And he went out of the room. Just like that.
Jamie found Tyler in the parking garage, getting into his car. Jamie got in on the other side of the backing car. He took the keys out of the ignition. That stalled the car, right there, half in and half out of Tyler’s slot.
Jamie said, “What the hell are you doing?”
“You took the keys.”
“I had to stop you. Where are you going?”
And Tyler explained quite kindly. “I believe I’m going into rebellion. I didn’t at twelve or at fourteen or even at sixteen like most males. And I have never declined my duty. I am now in revolt.”
Jamie said with equal gentleness, “You’re not in revolt, you’re acting like a jackass. Cut it out and come back to the office. We got the Anderson trial.”
Tyler looked at Jamie with naked eyes. He asked softly, “The Anderson trial?”
“Yep.”
Tyler got out the driver’s side as he said, “I get the final argument!”
“Like hell! Come back here and put the car back in your slot.”
Tyler walked off, saying, “You’ve got the keys, you do it!”
Nothing more was said. Tyler walked on off down to the elevator. Jamie got out of the car and went around to get into the driver’s seat...and he adjusted the seat just so. Then he put the car back where it belonged. But he didn’t readjust anything.
At their office, Jamie said, “You forgot your keys.”
Tyler replied, “I was a bastard. This is a puberty throwback. I won’t ask your forgiveness. I’ll do something brilliant and say it was you who did it.”
“I’ll do my own work. Take care of yourself. If you’re over this particular hump, I will survive. If you go into another, I’ll break your damned neck.”
Tyler laughed.
Jamie sat down and watched the laugh, and his own eyes crinkled. He said, “Behave. We have a hell of a schedule on this one.”
Tyler agreed with a nod but he said, “It’ll be shared. I’m proud to be a part of it with you.”
