Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 2

by Robin Jones Gunn

  “You’re weird.”

  “Oh, come on. You have older sisters. Didn’t you change some when they moved out?”

  “No.”

  “Not at all?”

  Amy shook her head. “I was and always will be the baby of the family. Nothing changed when they left. Which reminds me, instead of fixing dinner at my house on Wednesday night, can we fix it over here?”

  “Why?” Sierra was surprised that Amy was willing to make any adjustments to their dinner plan. For almost a month, Amy had been devising a scheme to get Drake to come to her house for dinner. Sierra had agreed to invite Randy so it could be a foursome. They had planned and scheduled and rescheduled. Finally, everything was set for Wednesday night. Why would Amy want to change locations?

  “I thought it would be more fun over here,” Amy said. “It’s so quiet and boring at my house. My parents will lock themselves in the TV room upstairs, and I don’t know, it just wouldn’t be as lively as things always seem to be around here.”

  Sierra began to get the picture. “You mean Wes won’t be around if we have it at your house.”

  Amy innocently blinked her thick lashes at Sierra. “Why did you say that? Why would I want Wes to be around when I’m on a date with Drake?”

  “It was just a thought,” Sierra said. “We wouldn’t be able to make the dinner fancy here. My brothers would get into everything and join us at the table. If you want a quiet dinner for four like you’ve planned all along, we should have it at your house.”

  “Okay, okay. If you say so.” Amy glanced at her watch and forced herself to get up. “I have to go. By the way, is Wes home?”

  Sierra grinned at her not-so-subtle friend. “Nope. He’s out job hunting.”

  “Well, tell him I hope he doesn’t find a job until after the backpacking trip. Okay? Tell him I said that.”

  “I will, Amy. See you later.”

  Amy scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. Sierra lay back on Tawni’s bed and stared at the ceiling. Its uneven ivory stucco presented an interesting pattern. To Sierra, it looked like clumps of clouds floating in a winter sky, untouched by the earth below, unhindered by the heavens above.

  That’s how Sierra wanted to be. Light and free and unhindered. Why would she want a boyfriend? Or want things with Randy to be any different from what they were right now? Warm and nice and uncomplicated. Just friends. Sierra decided she wanted to float through this summer the way she had managed to breeze through almost everything else in life. Like a cloud. That’s what she wanted to be—a cloud.

  “MOM, I’M LEAVING FOR WORK NOW,” Sierra called out the back door the next morning. Her mother was bent over in the garden, stringing up green beans. She stood and motioned for Sierra to wait a minute. Stepping cautiously over the rows of strawberries, her mom jogged to the back door. Sharon Jensen was a slim, energetic woman who seemed to enjoy life and her six children to the fullest. She loved it when people told her she was too young to be a grandmother, which she had been for three years now, ever since the appearance of Sierra’s nephew, Tyler.

  Everyone told Sierra she looked like her mom except that her hair was blond and her mother’s was light brown. They also said she had her mom’s figure. Sierra had never liked her tomboy shape, though. Compared with her shapely sister, she felt unattractive. But every now and then, when she saw her mom like this, looking cute in her shorts and a sleeveless shirt that showed off her sunburned shoulders, Sierra hoped she would turn out just like her.

  “Will you stop by the store on the way home for me? There’s a list and some money on the counter. You’ll be home by six, won’t you?”

  “I should be. I get off at five.”

  “Good,” her mom said, dabbing her sweaty nose with the back of her gloved hand. “Gavin has a friend coming for dinner. Do you know if Randy’s coming?”

  “Why would he?”

  “Well, he’s been stopping by at dinnertime a lot lately. I just wondered if he had said anything to you.”

  “No, I’m afraid I can’t ever make predictions about Randy.”

  “He knows he’s always welcome. There will be plenty if he shows up.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m off. See you at six.”

  Sierra grabbed the list and cash and headed for the ’79 Volkswagen Rabbit parked out front. She slipped into the car and puttered down the street to her job at Mama Bear’s. Parking in the lot behind the bakery, she walked in the back door at exactly 10:00.

  The day flew by, as every day had since Mrs. Kraus installed a frozen yogurt machine. She had advertised in front of the shop with a giant yogurt cone perched atop the sign that read “Mama Bear’s Cinnamon Rolls.” As a result, the clientele had immediately grown to include neighborhood kids and the uniformed employees from the medical center a block away.

  When Sierra started this job in late winter, she had been busy making specialty coffees all day. Now it was swirled yogurt cones. Mrs. Kraus had talked about adding a small hot pot for chocolate coating so they could offer dipped cones. Sierra and several other employees had begged her to reconsider. The yogurt was sticky and messy enough without adding quick-drying chocolate to the menu.

  Sierra was preparing to leave that afternoon when Mrs. Kraus approached her with the schedule in hand. “Let me get this straight,” she said, chewing on the end of her pencil. “You’ll be working your regular hours this week, but you’ll be gone next week. Right?”

  Mrs. Kraus was a short, round, good-natured woman who had a thing about all her employees wearing matching aprons. She had changed the staff aprons twice since Sierra had started there. This week they were wearing hot pink ones with little ice cream cones and cherries sprinkled across the fabric.

  Hanging up her apron, Sierra looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Kraus. “Yes, I’m going backpacking, remember? I can still work my regular hours next Saturday, though.”

  “Backpacking? How brave of you, dear! Where are you going?”

  “Some place in Washington State. It’s not far.”

  “Sleeping on cold dirt, eating dehydrated rations, and hiking until your legs ache…my, how wonderful it is to be young.”

  Sierra laughed. “We have tents. And it’s not exactly strenuous. It’ll be fun.”

  “If you say so, dear. Now, you leave on Monday.” She was busy writing and erasing as she spoke. “Then can you work Friday of this week from noon to nine? I’m trying out the later hours on weekends during the summer, and I’ve been in a dither to get the time covered. Can you work this Friday?”

  “I guess so. I usually help out serving dinner at the Highland House on Fridays, but I think Uncle Mac will understand.” Sierra ran her hands under the faucet, trying to wash off the stickiness.

  Ever since she and Randy had volunteered at the Highland House as a service project for school, they had continued to go back and assist where needed. The Highland House ran an after-school program for kids and offered job-search aid to their parents. The center also fed and provided beds for dozens of homeless people each night. Sierra was preparing her own version of a vacation Bible school for the kids at the Highland House and planned to start the morning program in July.

  Uncle Mac, the director, was thrilled to have Sierra working there. He had taken a special interest in her, not just because of her initiative in starting the Bible school program, but also because Tawni’s new boyfriend, Jeremy, was Uncle Mac’s nephew. As a matter of fact, the Paul who had moved to Scotland was Jeremy’s brother. Sierra was sure it was all divine intervention.

  “Okay. The schedule is all set,” Mrs. Kraus said. “I’ll see you Thursday morning.”

  “See you then,” Sierra said, giving a wave and quickly stepping out the back door before they started to chat about something else. Mrs. Kraus was fun to talk to, but Sierra knew that if they got started, she would be there for another hour.

  To her surprise, Drake was leaning on her car with his arms folded across his broad chest. His dark hair contained gli
nts of amber in the afternoon sun. His square jaw was set firmly, and his eyes were on Sierra.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise, Mr. Drake?” Sierra listened to herself, not sure where her brain had come up with such a coy remark. Maybe she had been watching too many black-and-white movies late at night.

  Drake’s full name was Anton Francisco Drake. He never apologized for his sophisticated name, but preferred that everyone simply call him “Drake,” since it didn’t seem one could glean a usable nickname from Anton or Francisco. And just like his name, Drake, the six-foot-two star athlete, was one of a kind.

  “I’m killing time. I left my car at the shop across the street and thought I’d stop by to see you while I waited for them to fix the muffler.”

  “Oh, well, I just finished work, and I have to run to the store for my mom.”

  “Mind if I come along?”

  Sierra was sure her face reflected surprise. “Fine.”

  She climbed into the car and leaned over to unlock the passenger door. Drake folded his tall frame into the small vehicle and immediately tried to scoot the seat back.

  “You have enough room?” Sierra asked.

  “Just enough.”

  “I think Amy’s working tonight,” Sierra said as she started the car. “Have you seen her much lately?” Sierra knew the answer but wanted to see how Drake would respond.

  “Not much,” Drake said, adjusting the seat some more. “She seems to be working or at your house whenever I call her.”

  “Oh, I see,” Sierra said with a tease in her voice. “So you figured if you tracked me down, Amy wouldn’t be far away.”

  “Actually,” Drake said, “I wanted to see you.”

  Sierra felt her heart pounding as her car took the bump into the Safeway parking lot. Why would Drake say that? Could he tell that Amy wasn’t interested in him anymore? Or was this Drake’s method of moving from girl to girl and never letting anyone think he was going with a particular person?

  Sierra didn’t respond to Drake’s comment but pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine. “I have only a few things on the list. You want to come in with me?”

  “Sure. This is much better than reading auto shop magazines.”

  “When will your car be ready?”

  “Hopefully by six-thirty.” Drake let her walk in front of him through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioned store. The blast of cool air felt good to Sierra and helped to clear the head.

  He’s only killing time. Don’t read anything into his comment. Drake is just being friendly, she thought.

  It felt strange walking up and down the aisles with Drake pushing the cart. Sierra made herself busy as she read the list, compared prices on pickle jars, and then checked the list again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so nervous.

  “I think that’s everything,” she said, finally making eye contact with him. All through the store, she had felt his eyes on her.

  Drake steered the cart into the ten-items-or-less lane and helped her unload the groceries.

  “Make a guess,” he said.

  “A guess?”

  “How much do you think this will add up to?”

  “I don’t know. Under twenty dollars I hope, because that’s all I have.”

  “I think it will be eleven dollars and sixty-seven cents. Go ahead. You guess.”

  Sierra looked away from his good-natured smile and mentally priced the items rolling past her. “Nine dollars and seventeen cents,” she said.

  “I don’t think so.” Drake’s eyes sparkled.

  The total rang up as $14.92.

  “Fourteen ninety-two?” they both echoed.

  “What did I buy?” Sierra asked.

  “Hey, fourteen ninety-two,” Drake repeated. “Great year for sailing the ocean blue. Just ask Columbus.”

  He grinned. Sierra shook her head at his joke and handed over the twenty-dollar bill.

  Drake carried the bag to the car for her. “I think it was the tomatoes,” he said. “They’re not really in season yet.”

  “And how do you know this, Mr. Tomato Expert?”

  Drake shrugged and placed the groceries on the backseat. “Our backyard is full of tomato plants, and they still have little green balls on them, not big fat red ones. That’s how I know. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”

  Sierra settled into the driver’s seat and glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror before Drake wedged himself in. Her cheeks carried the blush of pink she felt inside.

  “You mind dropping me off at the auto shop on your way home?” Drake asked. “Or, actually, would you mind taking me there and waiting? They weren’t sure they could fix it tonight.”

  Sierra waited as Drake entered the small shop and stood at the counter, talking to the mechanic. A thousand swirling thoughts, like confetti in the wind, blew through Sierra’s mind.

  Why is he being so nice? I never dreamed Drake would be interested in me. This is so flattering! I can’t believe he stopped to see me.

  Drake jogged back to Sierra’s car, looking like a football player entering the stadium and anticipating the crowd’s roar of approval. Sierra rolled down her window. He leaned over, resting his muscled arms on her door.

  “Well, it looks as if I’ll have to come back tomorrow. They’re not finished with it yet.”

  “Do you want me to give you a ride home?” Sierra asked.

  Drake was so close to her that his face was only inches away. Before she realized what was happening, he reached over and, with a thick finger, brushed something off her cheek.

  Sierra’s hand instinctively reached for the same spot and began to wipe her cheek. “What was it?”

  “A gnat or something.”

  “Probably a mosquito,” Sierra said. “They’re already coming after me. Mosquitoes love me.”

  “You know what they say. Mosquitoes only go for sweet blood.”

  “Oh, really?” Sierra said. “My mom says it’s because I don’t take enough vitamin B.”

  Drake sauntered over to the passenger side and got back in the car. Sierra felt herself blushing again.

  What is wrong with me? I’m rambling about mosquitoes and vitamins while Drake is sitting in my car!

  “So, where to?” Sierra forced herself to ask calmly as she started up the engine.

  “That depends,” Drake said. “Are you interested in going out to dinner?”

  SIERRA AND DRAKE walked side by side up the front steps of her home. She opened the door, and he carried in the bag of groceries.

  “Anybody home?”

  There was no answer. They went into the kitchen and heard voices coming from the backyard. Sounds always carried from the deck into the kitchen like a funnel.

  Sierra motioned for Drake to place the grocery sack on the kitchen counter and peeked out the window over the sink. Mr. Jensen stood in front of the barbecue, swatting at the cloud of smoke with his spatula. Granna Mae reclined on a patio lounge chair under the shade of one of the huge oak trees that lined the backyard. Gavin and his friend were taunting Brutus with a stick, holding it up and trying to entice him to jump. Mrs. Jensen stood by the patio table with a glass of iced tea in her hand, talking with Wes. Sierra’s eight-year-old brother Dillon was sitting at the table, ready to eat as usual. Sierra felt like an eavesdropper, spying on her family through the window.

  “Come on,” Sierra said, leading Drake outside. “They’re all out back.”

  “There she is,” Wes said, spotting Sierra as she stepped onto the deck.

  “Hi, everybody! This is Drake, a friend of mine from school. Mom, do you mind if we have one more for dinner?”

  “Of course not. How are you, Drake?”

  “Fine, thanks. I appreciate your letting me crash your barbecue like this.”

  “No problem,” Sierra’s dad said from the grill. “We always have plenty. You’re welcome anytime. The burgers will be ready in about three minutes.”

 
“Oh!” Her mom turned to Sierra. “Did you pick up those items at the store? I need to cut up the tomatoes and get the condiments on the table.” She disappeared inside the kitchen.

  “Time to eat, Granna Mae,” Sierra said, going over and giving her snoozing grandma a kiss on the cheek. “You hungry?”

  “Oh, goodness me,” she said, looking up at Sierra. “When did you get back?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. Are you ready for some dinner?”

  “Well, tell me about your trip. Did you have a nice time?” Granna Mae smoothed back her hair and shifted in the lounge chair.

  “I had a very nice time,” Sierra said, playing along and offering her a hand up from the chair. “Come meet my friend Drake.”

  They walked arm in arm to the table, where Granna Mae stopped to take a good look at Drake. She smiled cordially and found her place at the table. Sierra felt relieved that Granna Mae didn’t say anything more. Drake might not understand that Granna Mae’s mind was fuzzy.

  Drake and Sierra sat next to each other. All eyes seemed to be on Drake, waiting for him to speak. Sierra felt proud and confident. It wasn’t every day she had someone important like Drake as her guest.

  “Heads up!” her dad said. “Burgers coming through.”

  “They smell great,” Drake said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

  “I better start you off with two,” Mr. Jensen offered.

  “If you’re sure you have enough.”

  “We always have extra,” Dillon piped up. “That’s’ cause Randy eats with us a lot. Do you know Randy?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Randy is Sierra’s boyfriend.”

  “He is not!” Sierra spouted. “I mean, you know.” She looked at Drake and then back at Dillon. “Randy’s my friend, not my boyfriend.”

  “Then how come you hold hands with him?”

  Sierra felt her face beginning to burn. She suspected her brother was old enough to know that his words would embarrass and upset her, and he seemed to enjoy his role as the pesky little brother.