Between Sundays

by Karen Kingsbury

  “Why?” Was she sick, was that the problem? “It’s the best food here.”

  “No, it’s the…” she gulped, “the boat. I’m afraid, seriously.”

  He considered laughing, but he had a strong sense she wasn’t teasing. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Really? You’re not kidding?”

  “I’m not.” She shivered a few times and cast wide eyes back at the water. “I’m scared to death of boats.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not sure.” She bit her lip. “I can’t swim, for one.” She was being painfully honest, because the walls from earlier were down now. “And I saw a show once when I was a little girl, about a boat lost at sea without a captain.”

  He studied her, and he liked what he saw. In the strength that made up the woman before him, he’d found a chink, one small slight weakness. Cory was still over at the railing, whistling at the sea lions, mesmerized by them. Megan wanted Aaron to keep a certain distance, he was aware of that. But here, now, he only wanted to reassure her. He took a step closer, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. The hug was the same type he would give a sister, but it sent feelings through him so strong they made him dizzy.

  “We’ll go somewhere else.” He swayed slightly with her. “I didn’t know, okay?”

  She nodded her head against his chest, and after half a minute she stepped back. “Sorry. I guess I don’t think about it that often.” Her cheeks were redder than before. “I don’t understand it, to be honest. I can do a paper route in the dead of night, but I can’t step onto a boat.”

  A paper route? In the city in the dark? Aaron felt a rush of adrenaline release through him. Megan was young and beautiful, hardly someone who should be out on the dark streets delivering papers. He hoped she was kidding, but he made a note to ask her about it over dinner. Again, he wanted to take her hand, but he only motioned toward Cory. “Let’s take a look.”

  She followed him to the edge of the pier, but even there Megan seemed nervous. She gave Cory a thumbs-up when he said he’d like to dive off the pier and swim around with the sea lions all day. “Me too.” She made a seasick face at Aaron. “Can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon.”

  Aaron laughed. “Come on, let’s go eat.” He touched the small of Megan’s back and directed her and Cory toward a flight of stairs. “There’s a place up here that’s all windows.” He looked at Cory. “You can watch the sea lions the whole time we eat.”

  Cory’s eyes opened wide. “Wow! This is the best day ever.”

  They were the same words the boy had said after the Raiders game, and again Aaron knew without a doubt, the boy was telling the truth. Megan didn’t say so, but the reason she hadn’t been here often—the reason Cory had never been here—was because of money. It had to be. Something Aaron hadn’t thought about since long before he signed his pro contract. But if his agent was right, if Megan worked three jobs, then certainly every dollar mattered.

  They walked up the stairs and into the Sea Lion Café. The food wouldn’t be what it would’ve been on Forbes Island, but that didn’t matter. He was here with Megan and Cory. They could eat leather burgers and he’d have a good time. As they entered the restaurant, he leaned close to Megan. He needed her to help hide his identity. “Do the talking, okay?”

  She seemed to understand and she took the lead. The hostess sat them next to the window, and Cory took the seat closest to the glass. “Wow, you can see forever from here.”

  Aaron looked at Megan across from him. Cory’s statement suddenly took on a different meaning, and Aaron wanted to tell Megan he felt the same way. Just maybe he could see forever from here too. But he couldn’t say so, not now.

  They ordered fish and chips, and during dinner, with Cory distracted by the view, Aaron told Megan about his visit to Derrick’s house. “He has it all.” There was no mistaking the wistfulness in his voice. “His family is amazing.”

  “I’ve always liked him.” She pulled her iced tea closer and fiddled with the straw. “He has a strong faith, from what I’ve read.”

  “He does. I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” Aaron grinned and rested his forearms on the table. The noise in the restaurant was less than it had been, so he kept his voice low. “He doesn’t make a big show of it, but it’s there…in everything he does.”

  “I like that.” She grinned at him. “I don’t believe in church. But I talk to God all the time.”

  Aaron mulled over the strength of Megan’s opinions. She didn’t want a relationship and she didn’t believe in church. Clearly, she struggled with trusting people, and that raised his sensitivity level. He drew an even breath. “Derrick says church isn’t so bad. Sort of where it all happens—the teaching, the worship…the growth. But he calls it ‘talking to God’ too.”

  She stirred her straw through the ice cubes in her drink. “That’s all it is. Just like you and I are talking right now.”

  “Hmmm.” The idea of talking to God still felt intimidating, but it seemed less foreign all the time. “Derrick’s talking to God about me a lot.” He gave her a guilty look, one that made her laugh. “No question I need it.”

  Megan looked out the window for a few seconds and her eyes grew distant. “I saw a TV special on him once, how he’s been through every set of emotions possible. The highest highs, and the lowest lows.”

  Aaron pictured the little boy in Derrick’s family photo. “He lost a child six years ago.”

  Sadness colored her expression. “A car accident, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Aaron took a deep breath and he recounted the gist of Derrick’s story. Then he told her about Derrick’s promise to little Lee.

  Megan looked worried. “You can promise a child a lot of things, but winning the Super Bowl?”

  “It’s a big order.” Aaron leaned back in his chair. “He’s pretty serious about it. He’s committed to doing everything he needs to do.” Aaron looked at his empty plate. “It’s his last season.”

  She sipped her tea and lowered her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that.”

  “He doesn’t want a lot of fanfare.”

  A smile pulled at her lips. “That’s fitting. For the sort of guy he seems to be.”

  They finished eating, and Cory wanted to go back to the edge of the pier, so he could get closer to the sea lions. They headed back down the stairs and closer to the water.

  Aaron spotted a bench, one in a much less crowded area. He nodded toward it. “Want to sit there?”

  “Sure.” The shy look was back in her eyes. Which was better than the walls she’d had earlier.

  The sun had set, and now in the dusk it was harder to make out the sea lions on the rocks off the pier. Cory didn’t seem to mind. He took his place next to a boy his age, and they appeared to start up a conversation. Aaron sat down on the bench, leaving plenty of room for her. She joined him and gazed out at the water, toward the lighthouse on Forbes Island. She seemed intent about something, so he waited for her to talk first.

  “Sorry about the boat thing.” She gave him a side glance and then looked back out at the water. “It’s ridiculous.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Fear has a mind of its own.”

  “This one does.” She worked her fingers into her hair and shook it out around her shoulders. “The air out here feels so good.” She leaned against the armrest and met his eyes. “Next time I’m out here, I’m taking a boat ride. I hate limiting myself.”

  Aaron wasn’t surprised. If he knew her as well as he was starting to, having any fears at all was probably a thorn in Megan’s side. “Tell you what…I win the Super Bowl, and we’ll take a boat ride around the bay.”

  “The whole bay?” She looked like a child, considering the idea of crossing a major street for the first time.

  “The whole bay.” He loved this, having fun with her this way. He raised his hands, feigning innocence. “That’s what you want.”

  “It is.” She didn’t look too happy with herself. Then
she raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course, you have to win the Super Bowl first.”

  “You have doubts?”

  She angled her head from one side to the other. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t buy the boat tickets quite yet.”

  “Thanks.” He put his hand up on the back of the bench and studied her profile. She was watching the water again, and he let the silence wash over them for half a minute. Then he asked the first question that came to mind. “What do you do when you’re not at the youth center?”

  For a split moment, it looked like she might put walls between them again, then she pulled one foot up on the bench, hugged her knee, and faced him. “Well…” Her eyes shone with a newfound trust. “I deliver the Chronicle before dawn, and then I go home and get Cory up and ready for school. After breakfast, he sets off on his bike, and I walk to my main job.”

  Shock hit him hard in the face, but he didn’t flinch. Megan actually delivered newspapers before dawn every day. His heart softened, but he kept his tone even. “And your main job?”

  “I’m a waitress at Bob’s Diner.” She said it the same way a quietly confident person would say they were a surgeon or a professor. Her eyes shone with pride and determination. “It’s sort of like working as a counselor.” She grinned. “We have a lot of regulars.”

  He didn’t know Bob’s Diner, but he could imagine a greasy spoon nestled between a dry cleaner’s and a drugstore somewhere in the Mission District. And Megan, treating each day like another wonderful counseling session. He ordered himself not to feel sorry for her and instead grabbed at some sort of response. “You’ve worked there a while?”

  “I have. That’s where I met Cory’s mother. We were coworkers for almost five years before she died.”

  “So you’ve been there seven.” He smiled.

  “Exactly.” She looked out toward the water again. “I was a foster kid.” Again, she had no shame in the fact. “Did I tell you that?”

  “No.” He wanted to say he wasn’t surprised. That would explain a lot. Her independence and her resistance to relying on other people. Her compassion toward kids like Cory. “Was it hard? Growing up?”

  “Sometimes. They moved me around a lot because they kept giving me back to my mom.”

  There was much Megan wasn’t saying, but Aaron didn’t want to pry, so he waited. They weren’t in a rush. Cory was still busy talking with the kid beside him, and now that darkness had settled over the pier, there was an intimacy between them, a feeling he didn’t want to push.

  She stretched both legs out in front of her. “My mom loved me very much. I was lucky that way.” She found his eyes again. “She had a terrible addiction.”

  Aaron could imagine what Bill Bond would say about Megan now. A single foster mother working three jobs and struggling with a broken past, a mother who was an addict. It made him want to put his arms around Megan and keep her safe, protect her so no other bad thing could ever harm her again. Protect her, even, from the judgment of his agent.

  “The drugs and alcohol killed her in the end. By then I was a college sophomore. I dropped out of school to care for her.” She smiled at him and her eyes told the story. She wasn’t bitter, but the disappointment remained. “She died later that year.”

  He breathed in slowly through his nose, letting the story find its place in his heart. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She pulled one foot up onto the bench. “We were very close when she died. At peace with each other.”

  Aaron couldn’t begin to grasp the sorrows that had made up Megan’s life. He crossed his arms, unable to shake the way he hurt for her. “And your schooling?”

  “I’ll go back someday. Maybe.”

  “What were you studying?”

  “I was still finishing the pre-reqs, but I knew I wanted a degree in sociology. That or psychology. I always figured I’d be a counselor or a social worker. Without some of my foster parents, I don’t know where I’d be.” She paused. “I guess I figured I’d use my degree to give something back to the system.”

  “You’re doing that now. Without a degree.”

  “Thanks.” Her eyes filled with kindness. “That’s what I tell myself.”

  Again, Aaron had the urge to take her hand, or rub her shoulder. Connect with her some way so she would know how touched he was that she trusted him with her story. How sorry he was for her. The fact that his agent wouldn’t approve of the amazing woman sitting beside him was proof that just maybe Aaron had put his trust in the wrong person. Thinking about the man’s words now only filled Aaron with a simmering rage. He dismissed the thoughts. In this precious time, with Megan opening her heart to him, he wanted only to be available for her.

  He stretched his arm along the back of the bench again, and as he did he inched a little closer. More to keep their conversation intimate than to gain any advantage with her. “Tell me about your paper route.”

  She giggled and sat up a little straighter. “It’s not glamorous. I get up at four o’clock and walk a few blocks to the drop-off point. Lots of us get our papers there, but it’s on the edge of my route.” She did a dainty shrug. “I’m the only one without a car.”

  He silently struggled against the unfairness of Megan’s life. She really didn’t have a car? She and Cory had virtually nothing, a problem he could remedy in an afternoon. But the strangest part was Megan didn’t seem like she needed anything. As if her simple life suited her just fine. “So…you walk around handing out papers?”

  “Exactly.” She held her thin arms out and flexed. “It’s better than going to the gym every morning.”

  As she brought her hands back to her sides, her arm brushed against his fingers. Maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed to notice it too. Because she looked down at the pier for a few seconds, and she swallowed. As if she was trying to pretend she wasn’t feeling it, the unbelievable attraction between them.

  “Anyway, yeah, I wear a bag stuffed with papers and I walk my route. Up and down about four blocks, and then I go home.”

  He could picture bums and crazy people lurking in the shadows as she passed by, beautiful and vulnerable. “You’ve…you’ve never had a problem?”

  She laughed. “I’m not afraid of street people. They leave you alone if you know where you’re going. Even the gang members. I carry pepper spray, just in case.” Another wave of easy laughter came over her. “One time I used it on a trashcan.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “A very aggressive trashcan, I’m assuming.”

  “It seemed that way. I was tossing a paper and the can tumbled toward me. I thought I was being attacked, so I grabbed the spray and unloaded.”

  “And…”

  “A tabby cat ran out from behind the can, sneezing his head off.” She gave a single understanding nod. “Last time I was ever attacked by a tabby cat.”

  “Or a trashcan.”

  She leaned over her knees, laughing at the memory. “I can only imagine what the wino across the street must’ve thought. He probably ran for the shadows for the next month whenever I came along.”

  “Crazy papergirl.”

  “Yep.”

  Aaron had a hundred things he still wanted to talk to her about. Her hopes and dreams and her goals for the foster care system. But Cory was walking back toward them. The crowd had thinned considerably, and only a few couples strolled along the edge of the pier. Even the sea lions had quieted.

  Megan stood to greet the boy. “Ready to go, buddy?”

  “Yeah. The sea lions are falling asleep.”

  They were walking back when Megan stopped and stared out at the ocean. “It’s so big.”

  Cory stood beside her and shaded his eyes. “Someday I wanna sail around the world.”

  “I always wanted to do that when I was a kid.” Aaron took the spot on Megan’s other side, and at the same instant, they took hold of the wooden railing. As they did, their fingers touched. In half a second, Aaron made the decision not to move his hand. She must’ve done
the same because she kept her hand where it was, slightly beneath his.

  “It’s beautiful.” She was so close he could smell her subtle perfume. Their shoulders touched, and again she didn’t move.

  “Can we do this again next week?” Cory peered past Megan to Aaron. “This is the greatest place. Better than the park.”

  “That’d be fun.” Aaron winked at the boy. “It’s a lot better than sitting around an empty house by yourself.” Which was what he’d been doing lately, ever since his first visit to the youth center. Actually, it was since he first saw Megan. He thought of only her and dreamed of spending an evening like this with only her. Their fingers were still touching, and instinctively Aaron looped his pinky finger around hers. She gave his the slightest squeeze, and the sensation made his head spin. She couldn’t know how badly he wanted to take her in his arms and love her, protect her. But he couldn’t rush her. If he did, she would fly from him like one of the seagulls at the end of the pier.

  And that would be that.

  Cory yawned and Megan gave Aaron a knowing look. For a moment, there was only the two of them, and Aaron could see the one thing he’d wanted to see all night. The fact that she felt the same way—if only for an instant. She released his finger and took a full breath. “All right, then…I guess we better get going.”

  They made it all the way to the truck without stopping this time, and Aaron held the door open for her and then for Cory. He was so glad he’d traded in the Hummer. The truck suited him much better now, the person he was somehow trying to become. When he dropped them off, Megan hesitated. Then she took his hand and held it for a couple heartbeats. “Thank you. For tonight.”

  Aaron had to use all his strength to keep from leaning close and kissing her. Instead, he held back and nodded. “Thanks for talking. I could’ve listened all night.”

  She smiled. “Next time we’ll talk about you.” She climbed out and waved one more time, and then she and Cory were gone. It occurred to him then that Cory hadn’t said anything about being his son. The boy didn’t believe the truth, and so Aaron had half expected him to bring the issue up during dinner. But Cory was well-mannered and quieter than usual most of the night.