by N. C. Reed
“Old Man surprised you tonight, didn't he,” Clay said. It was a statement rather than a question.
“He's always doing that,” she laughed softly. “I'd likely be dead if not for him,” she admitted. “I was running. Had about fifty dollars to my name and a ratty backpack with maybe three outfits in it. I left a message for Marla-”
“Wait,” Clay stopped her and she blinked.
“Are we talking about Marla Jones?” he specified. “As in Marla Jones who runs a little store on I65?”
“That's her,” Lainie nodded, smiling. “She's my grandmother. My mom's mom. I left her a message on the phone telling her goodbye. She'd been so good to me it seemed unfair not to, I didn't want her to worry.” She stopped as Clay snorted at that.
“What?” she demanded.
“Telling a grandmother, or a mother, not to worry is wasted breath, gal,” he grinned. “They'd worry if you was surrounded by guards and wrapped in bubble wrap.”
She giggled at that and then slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes really came alive when she was happy, he noted. She lowered her hand, still smiling.
“So I was thumbing my way up the highway when Leon and Marla pull over. I was already in the car when I realized who it was,” she admitted. “I got a tongue lashing of sorts, but it was more of a 'you should have told us what you were doing so we could help' kind of thing, you know? Anyway, since my grandmother's was the first place they would look and staying with Leon was a non-starter, they took me south about an hour and left me with a friend who let me live with her for a few months. She was a kind older lady and I helped her around her house. We pretended I was her niece when anyone would ask and that I had wanted to try country living,” she chuckled. “It wasn't bad. When I turned eighteen Leon brought me here so I could get my GED. Had to do that to get a license, or anything else.”
“My mom's boyfriend found out, somehow, where I was and came looking for me, but Brick was already there and he stopped that cold, then called Leon. I don't know what he did, but I ain't seen him or my mother since. And good riddance, too,” she added.
“You're a tough little cookie,” Clay grinned. “Sounds like you made good with hard work, Miss Harper. Leon said you wouldn't let them help you much at all, wanted to get it yourself whatever it might be.”
“That's true, but. . .I just thought I had been a burden on them long enough,” she told him. “Know what I mean?”
“I know what you're saying,” Clay nodded. The waiter arrived then and took their order. Small talk over salad and bread turned to more over a healthy steak. Suddenly Lainie stopped talking.
“What is it?” Clay asked.
“I'm the one doing all the talking here,” she raised an eyebrow. “You ain't said hardly nothing about you.”
“What would you want to know about me?” Clay asked. “I'm about as boring as it gets,” he shrugged.
No, you're not.
“Well, Leon says you took off right outta high school. Where did you go?” she asked.
“Here and there,” he shrugged. “I was in Iraq at eighteen. Afghanistan at twenty. Back to Iraq at twenty-one. I was stateside for a minute but spent my twenty-second birthday in the Philippines. Was in Central America for a few months and then to Africa. That's pretty much it,” he shrugged again.
“That's a lot of traveling. You were in the military?”
“Was,” he nodded. “Out now.”
“Why did you get out?”
“Needed to come home,” he shrugged. “After a day with Leon I can't recall just why,” he added with great sarcasm.
“I see bursts of him in you when you do that,” she giggled. “Of Leon I mean. You don't so much favor him all the time as when you do that.”
“I probably used to be more like him,” Clay shrugged. “I've been gone a long time.”
“You didn't visit? I thought you got, like, a month off every year or something like that?”
“We get thirty days leave time,” he nodded. “Don't always get to take it though. It builds up like that sometimes.”
“I'm sorry,” she said suddenly. “I'm always asking stuff. I don't mean to pry, really.”
“You aren't,” he promised. “No big deal.”
They finished eating and Clay paid the check over her objections, leaving a tip.
“What do you want to do now?” she asked once they were back in her car.
“Sleep,” he laughed. “I'm give out. Today has been a long day, and putting up with Pa made it longer.”
“Ha ha,” she commented. Secretly she was disappointed, hoping Clay would want to at least ride around the city for a while. Soon they were back at the club. Once parked she led him up a back stairwell that opened into the hallway where the bedrooms were located.
“I need to go and make sure everything is okay I guess,” she said. “Thanks for dinner,” she smiled a little smile at him.
“My pleasure,” he nodded. “I enjoyed the company.” He put his hand on the door knob, waiting.
“Well, I should go and check in,” she said again. “Good night,” she said over her shoulder.
“Night,” he repeated, and stepped into his room and closed the door. He would have to listen to Leon all the way home tomorrow about Lainie, now. She was a nice girl, he decided as he pulled off his boots. Too nice girl to be living like this, and definitely too nice a girl for someone like him. He'd been true to his word. On his best behavior.
Nothing for Leon to get upset about, he decided as his head hit the pillow. He was asleep in seconds.
-
“C'mon Old Man!” Clay rapped on Leon's door. “I already got the truck and trailer ready to go!”
“Stop your yammering, I'm coming,” Leon snapped back, heading for the door. “Man my age has to have a little extra time in the mornings.” He opened the door to find Clay standing there with his own bag and motioned for his grandson to take his as well.
“What's your hurry, anyway?” Leon asked.
“Want to get that stuff put away,” Clay shrugged. “Gordy has a game tonight.”
“Ah, yeah,” Leon nodded. “Forgot that. Guess we better go, then.”
The two headed downstairs into the dark interior of the quiet club. There were no windows in a place like this so any light had to be artificial.
“How did you come to own a joint like this, anyway?” Clay asked as he loaded their things in the truck's rear seat.
“It was a good place to move stuff,” Leon shrugged. “Man that owned it owed me a lot of money and made a deal for this place. He had a clear deed to it, so I said yes.”
“Cool,” Clay nodded. “Here,” he shoved a fast food bag toward Leon as he got into the cab. “It ain't your favorite, but there's sausage and biscuits, and a large coffee,” he nodded to the drink tray.
“You ain't all bad, are you?” Leon chuckled. “You and Lainie have a good time last night?”
“Went and got a steak and then came back. I was asleep 'fore my head hit the pillow,” Clay chuckled.
“That's all?” Leon asked.
“Yes, Pa, that's all,” Clay sighed.
It would be a long trip home.
-
Things fell into a rhythm of sorts after that. Fridays were spent finishing up any work details that hadn't been done through the week in order to prepare for the ball game that evening. Even Leon attended the early games when they were at home, though he avoided away games and home games where the weather was unpleasant. But otherwise the entire Sanders clan was in attendance as Gordy led Calhoun High's top ranked defense onto the field.
Clay was kept busy in that time, 'helping' Leon repair some business interests that had flagged in recent times as well as making his own preparations. While having Leon assist him was fine, he still had to do the work himself. That required a number of trips out of town which always led to questions that he didn't want to answer.
Atop all of that was a surprise out of the blue from his niece Abigail,
who decided it was her mission in life to 'find Uncle Clay a woman'.
“What?” Clay doubted he could have looked more stunned at his niece's declaration.
“It's not right, living up there by your lonesome,” she told him. “You need a good woman to take care of you,” she told him.
“Like you need a man to take care of you?” he shot back and her face went red.
“That's different,” she made a pushing motion with her hand as if to ward his statement away. “I'm fine where I am and I don't have time for that.”
“And you just assume that I do?” Clay demanded. “I got things to do, Abby, and I ain't got time for foolishness like that either.”
“I have several friends you might find interesting,” she persisted.
“Abby, are they the same age as you?” he asked.
“Give or take a year, yeah,” she nodded.
“Great,” Clay muttered. “Next they'll be calling me cradle robber. Look, Abby,” he calmed himself. “It's not that I don't appreciate it, cause I do. But right now ain't the time, okay? I got too much on me, and too much behind me at the moment. You wouldn't be doing your friends any favors hooking them up with me. Understand?”
“We'll see,” Abby shrugged and walked away.
“That is just all I needed,” Clay shook his head as he went back to work.
That next Friday was a home game. The family turned out for it as usual and everything was fine until the half, when Abigail showed up with another girl, a blonde who was shorter and smaller framed but pretty behind her glasses.
To his utter horror, Abigail marched straight up to Clay and introduced him and the girl, then walked away, leaving them looking at each other.
Her name was Sam. Short for Samantha. Samantha Walters.
“I've heard a lot about you,” she said shyly.
“I'm sure you have,” Clay tried not to sigh. “Please, have seat,” he offered against his will. “I'm sorry about Abby. She. . .well. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be,” Samantha smiled. “I asked her to introduce us.”
“What? Why?” Clay was shocked.
“You seem like a good guy,” Sam told him. “Not many good guys around these days, Clay Sanders. You seemed worth getting to know.”
“Miss Walters,” Clay began.
“Sam. Just Sam,” she told him.
“Miss Walters,” he repeated. “I'm flattered that you might think I'm worthy of your attention, I really am. But right now I'm going through a bit of rough ground and that's really all I can say grace over at the moment. I honestly don't really socialize much at all. This,” he indicated the football stadium, “is about the only thing I do other than work. And if it weren't for Gordy, Abby's brother, I wouldn't be here tonight.”
“Where would you be?” she asked.
“Probably working,” he admitted.
“Doing what on a Friday night?” she pressed.
“Whatever needed doing,” he shrugged. “There's always work to do on a farm, and I have a lot of side lines to see over as well. I stay pretty busy, even when I'd rather be doing something else.”
“I see,” Sam nodded. She stood, looking at him.
“Well, I won't press you, Clay Sanders,” she smiled again. “But. . .if you change your mind, Abby knows how to get in touch with me. I still think you're worth getting to know.” She extended her hand and Clay took it, the girl shaking it firmly once before heading back the way she came.
“Who was that?” his brother asked, leaning down from behind him. “That looked like Ken Walters' girl.”
“Friend of Abby's named Samantha Walters,” Clay told him. “Wanted to meet me,” he shrugged.
“That girl is just Abby's age, Clay,” Robert frowned at his younger brother.
“And I'm closer to Abby's age than yours, Robert,” Clay reminded him.
“True,” Robert considered that.
“She comes from a good family,” Patricia offered from Robert's side. “Her father owns a large stock operation north of Peabody and her mother is a doctor of something at Vandy. I forget what,” she frowned in concentration. “Anyway. Good family.”
“For goodness sake do you two hear yourselves?” Leon snorted from behind them where he was sitting with Gordon and Angela. “It's like you're trying to breed a bull, for God's sake! Leave the boy alone!”
Clay's face colored at that as he turned back to face the stadium, but he was glad that Leon had intervened. Samantha Walters seemed like a very nice young woman, and she might well be from a 'good family', but Clay had a dark secret following him and another looming overhead.
She was better off chasing someone else.
-
If it wasn't Abigail, it was his mother.
“Clay, I hate to see you all by yourself,” she would say out of the blue. “It's not good to be alone.”
“I'm not alone, Ma,” he replied. “I've got all of you.”
“It's not the same, Clayton, and you surely realize that,” Angela Sanders shook her head.
“Mom, if I meet the right girl I'll know it,” he promised. “Until I do, I'm not interested.”
His sister-in-law, and even his stick in the mud sister also got in on the act, gently pushing and urging with what they considered well timed and intentioned, gentle suggestions.
Clay considered them pushy and nosy. After three weeks of almost continuous harassment, Leon made a phone call.
-
Clay had been to town for a few items and when he returned was more than shocked to see Lainie Harper's Chevelle sitting in his drive way.
“What in the hell?”
As he pulled up beside her car, the red head appeared out of his house, walking toward him, smiling. Her hair was down this time instead of pulled back in a pony tail, and she was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved tee.
And looked damn good doing it, he decided.
“How did you get into my house?” he demanded as soon as he opened the door.
“That's not much of a welcome, Cowboy,” she told him as she threw her arms around him and pressed her face close to his.
“Leon said you were having trouble,” she told him. “Put your arms around me idiot,” she hissed. He did so, rolling his eyes.
“You sound just like him,” he snorted, and she giggled.
“Anyway, he said you were getting it from all sides about needing a girlfriend, so would I could down and play for a day. Maybe that will shut them up.” With that she stepped back, taking his hand in hers.
“C'mon, act the part,” she urged him. “Don't make my trip down here be for nothing.”
“Fine,” he sighed, letting her lead him up the stairs and into the house.
“You still haven't told me how you got inside,” he said once they were in the house and out of view.
“Leon put a key out for me,” she told him, smiling brightly. “This is some place, Cowboy,” she told him, twirling around and looking the small cabin over.
“Thanks,” he told her. “Have you eaten?” he asked. It was after lunch time and he was hungry.
“No, I drove down here this morning. Came straight here after I got things settled at the club.”
“Well, we may as well go out and get something I guess,” he thought for a minute. “I don't really have much up here. We all usually eat at mom and dad's of an evening, and I eat lunch with them since I'm working mostly with dad.”
“Okay,” she smiled again. “I'm game. Remember though,” she told him playfully. “I'm you girlfriend, so you have to treat me like it.”
“Wonderful.”
-
“What's wrong with that place?” Lainie asked as they drove over the interstate and past Lorrie's.
“Doubt I'm welcome there,” he admitted. “There's a nice little place in Jordan that serves a good table.”
“And why would you not be welcome there?” she asked, her voice slightly teasing.
“Killed a man in the dining room a while back,”
he said evenly. It took her a few seconds to process that.
“Seriously?” she asked, drawing back up straight.
“Yes, seriously,” he sighed. “That make you want to go back?” he asked.
“No, I just never know when you're serious or not,” she shrugged. “Why?”
“That's just how I am,” he shrugged. “I sometimes sound like I'm joking when I'm not and vice versa. Can't imagine where I might have-”
“Not that, numbskull,” Lainie sighed. “Why did you kill the guy?”
“He was trying to shake the place down and one of his men attacked the waitress. I beat up his two helpers and he pulled a switchblade on me. It ended up buried in him instead of me,” he explained.
“Oh,” Lainie remarked. “Well, that's what happens when you try to run with the big dogs and can't pee in tall grass.” Clay burst out laughing at that one and she joined him.
“You're okay, Lainie Harper,” he said after a minute of laughter.
“You're okay too, Cowboy.”
-
They made it back soon enough for Lainie to return to Nashville before too late, so she left almost as soon as they returned. It took all of five minutes for his mother to be knocking on his door.
“Clayton, I brought you some pie!” she called out. He opened the door and she stepped inside.
“Here,” she presented him with a foil covered plate.
“Thanks mom,” he kissed her cheek.
“So I noticed you had a visitor,” she tried to sound casual but failed miserably.
“Hm hmm,” Clay replied as he set the pie in his refrigerator. “I did indeed.”
“Pretty girl, at least from a distance,” she noted. “You should have brought her down to the house,” she semi-chastised and Clay immediately checked her hands.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Looking for a wooden spoon or a rolling pin, or maybe a spatula,” he admitted, earning himself a slap in the back of his head with a bare hand.
“That's for being a smart ass,” she told him.
“If it gets to the point that I need to introduce her, I will, mom,” he promised. “It's not to that point yet.”
