Game of Hearts (5 page)

****

When services ended, I rose from the pew. It had taken some time, but I'd finally gotten my attention back on the sermon and off Brandon.

"That was a good service." He scooted out of the row and allowed
the
rest of us out. "He's a wonderful speaker."

"He is," Scarlett said. "He's just as good at the soft sermons as he is the hellfire-and-damnation ones."

Brandon followed me out the double doors to the outer corridor. A cool breeze blew in through the opened front door. "Since you were kind enough to let me join you for church, how about I buy you all lunch?"

"Sounds like a wonderful idea." Robert glanced at his cell. "As long as you allow us to pay for ourselves."

Brandon waited for me to respond.

"We'd be delighted." I swallowed down a gulp. I didn't have extra money for lunch out. Hopefully we wouldn't go anywhere expensive. "I need to go get the kids."

"I'll walk with you." Scarlett took my arm and led me off. "When you said he was good looking, you never said how good looking."

"Good looking's good looking."

She chuckled. "I could stare at him all day, and I'm a married woman who loves her husband."

I stuck my head in the door to the youth room while Scarlett walked across the hall to the teen girls' class. Matthew looked my way and I waved. He lifted his head in a nod and patted Anthony on the back. I waited while they tied their shoes.

"How was class?" I walked with my hand on Anthony's shoulder. Other parents pushed on through to retrieve their children.

"Fun," he said. "We got to play video games and learned about Joseph."

Scarlett joined us, with Sara and Victoria following behind. We made our way back to Robert and Brandon who stood off to one side, each with a foam cup in hand.

"You'll be up all night if you drink that," Scarlett scolded her husband.

"I'll have water at the restaurant." He wrapped his arm around her waist and swallowed down the rest of the coffee.

"Brandon," I said, "these are my children. Anthony, Matthew, and Sarah." If this didn't scare him off, nothing would.

"It's nice to meet you." Brandon extended his hand to the boys. Each shook it. He paused when he got to Sarah. "I can certainly tell you are your mother's daughter from your beautiful eyes."

Sarah joined me in a blush.

"So where shall we do lunch?" Scarlett asked.

"How about Tiberoni's?" Brandon suggested. "They have a good pizza. I assume you kids like pizza."

"I sure do." Anthony's smile couldn't have gotten any bigger if he'd tried.

"Tiberoni's it is." I prayed I had my credit card on me. "We'll meet you at the restaurant."

"Mom." Anthony tugged my sleeve. "Don't forget to get the food from the church."

My little one amazes me. He's always so kind, and he thinks of others most of the time. I just wish he didn't have the memory of an elephant. My cheeks reddened. "Go get it."

When the boys returned, each held two large paper bags full of canned food items. "Here, let me help you." Brandon took a bag from Anthony.

I couldn't think of anything to say as we walked out to the car with food donations from the church. I had hit rock bottom.

"Deb?"

The voice came from behind me after I unlocked the trunk. Ms. Betty Winston stood below my chin. Still spry at ninety, there didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on the frail woman. Her skin covered only bones. Her perfume hung strong in the air, and she held a
pink envelope in her left hand.

"Ms. Winston, how are you today?" I took the woman's right hand in mine.

"I'm doing wonderful. Got another birthday coming up. Pretty soon I'll hit the big one hundred. I think I'll throw myself a surprise party."

"But it won't be a surprise if you throw it for yourself."

"At my age, dear, I can barely remember what I did five minutes ago. There's no way I'll recall whether I threw it or someone else did." She chuckled. "The lady's Bible study class wanted to give you this. We understand you've been having a hard time and wanted to help." She placed the envelope in my hand.

I could feel Brandon's gaze searing into my back. He must think I'm a pathetic loser. First I can't afford a simple cake, and now my church is giving me a bunch of donations. "That's not necessary. We're doing all right." Tears brimmed in my eyes. "I'm sure there's someone else who could use it more."

"Now, don't let pride get in your way. You've done a lot for us old women. You visited me every day when I was in the hospital. You came more than either one of my children did. You fixed dinner for Mildred and her husband after she broke her leg. You also drove her to her doctor's appointments. I won't go into everything else you've done. Please, let us bless you with this small token as you've blessed us." She squeezed my hand. My heart stood in my throat. I'd never thought of what I'd done as a blessing, just as being available to help.

"I'll let you get back to your handsome gentlemen friend." With cane in hand, she walked away.

When I turned, all three kids and Brandon stood near the trunk of the car, staring in my direction. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced you."

"No problem." He clapped his hands together once. "So, who's hungry besides me?"

"I am, I am!" Anthony hollered and threw his hand into the air.

"Well then, I suggest you
take
those groceries
to
your the house and head on over." He looked at me with those wonderful brown eyes and smiled. "See you in a few minutes."

Sarah gave me a smile from the passenger seat. "That was nice of Ms. Winston and her friends."

"Yes it was." A lump clogged my throat. We rode the remainder of the way home in silence. With an aching jaw, I pulled into the driveway at home. I wouldn't allow the children to see me cry. I needed to stay strong.

A red Corvette pulled in behind us. Great, just what I needed.

"Daddy!" Anthony rushed from the car.

Sarah and I each grabbed a bag from the trunk and walked past him. "I thought you went to church on Sunday, not the grocery store." He flashed a grin I wanted to wipe off his face as he followed me into the kitchen. His new boots tapped on the tile floor.

"The church gave us some food to help out since Mom's job cut her hours." Sarah shot her father a glare. "I wonder why it's so hard for us to make ends meet."

My heart sank
from
her remark. She knew. I stared after her as she walked from the room.

Michael grabbed my arm hard after the boys left to get the rest of the food. "What have you been saying to my kids?"

"I haven't said anything." I jerked away. "But they aren't stupid. All they have to do is think about it to know you aren't taking care of them."

"If I ever hear you badmouthing me to them, I'll…"

"You'll what?" My breathing had deepened. How dare he make threats when he's the one who doesn't do what he should?

The boys brought in the final bags, and Sarah proceeded to put things up.

"Hey, little girl." Michael tugged on Sarah's hair. "Why're you mad at me? What'd I do wrong?"

She spun. "Where do I start?" She placed her hands on her hips. "How about the fact we can't afford new clothes for school or we have to eat spaghetti almost every
day of the
week?"

Michael straightened. "And you think it's my fault."

She stared at him, shook her head, and raced from the room. I sucked in a deep breath. I didn't know which I wanted to do more—chase after her, or sock Michael in the gut.

"I came by to see if you kids wanted to go out with me for lunch." Michael stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"How can they when you only have two seats?" I asked.

"I thought you'd let me borrow your car."

"I have plans." I glanced at my watch. Maybe I should just call Scarlett and beg off. Let him have the car this one time.

"I'd rather go for pizza." Anthony pouted. "Brandon said he'd show me his tattoo."

Michael took a step back. "Who's Brandon?" He leaned on the doorjamb of the entryway.

I let out a weighted breath. "He's a gentleman I know, who invited us to lunch after church." How
did my son find out Brandon had
a tattoo? I wondered where it might be on his body. I brushed my sweaty palms on my skirt.

Michael's jaw tightened. "You seeing this guy?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'm going with Dad." Matthew took a step between his father and me. "Can't wait to ride in the 'Vette."

"Let's go, then." Michael glared at me before he walked out with Matthew.

"Are we still going for pizza, Mom?" Anthony asked as he put the last of the canned food away.

"We sure are. Let me see if your sister wants to go, and then I'll run a brush through my hair."

Sarah stepped from her room as I approached. She showed no sign of anger or tears. In fac
t, she had a smile on her face.

"Are you all right?"
I asked.

"Wonderful. It felt good to get that off my chest." She glanced down. "Do I look smaller?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed. I walked into my room, carrying the envelope from the church ladies. I opened it up and counted the money—four hundred and thirty-seven dollars. My breath escaped me. Small token, my foot. It's enough to cover the mortgage and lunch out. I raised my eyes to the ceiling. "Thank you, God, for the wonderful people in my life."

****

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of Tiberoni's. Scarlett stood up and waved. Not that she needed to—you couldn't miss Brandon's broad shoulders. "I'm sorry we're late," I said as we pushed toward them. Her two kids sat in a booth beside the table. "Where's Robert?"

"He received a call and had to go," Scarlett replied. "The price of being a doctor's wife. We thought we'd bum a ride home with you."

Sarah and Anthony joined the other kids while I took a chair across from Brandon and next to Scarlett. "Where's Matthew?"

"His dad showed up, so he went with him instead."

"I guess pigs are beginning to fly, huh?" Scarlett combed a hand through her hair.

A blonde waitress strutted up. She appeared to be my age, but that was where the similarities ended. Her skirt rode to mid-thigh and she wore her hair swept up from her face. A fresh coat of lipstick colored her lips, and the fake eyelashes did nothing to accentuate
her
blue eyes. Her silicone enhancements were obvious, along
with
raised eyebrows that suggested Botox treatments. She thrust out her bosom so her cleavage showed from her low-cut tee shirt.

She flashed Brandon a smile as she leaned toward me, allowing her breasts to touch his back.
Her smacking gum drove me crazy. She may have been trying to look like a teenager, but she reminded me of an overage porn star.

"What do you usually drink?" Brandon glanced at the kid's table. "Maybe a pitcher of cola for the kids, and what would you ladies like?"

"How do you like sweet tea?" I tried to look at Brandon and not the breasts caressing his back. It did no good. He shifted to one side, and she followed his movement. I didn't know why it bothered me, but it did.

"So a pitcher of cola for the kids and sweet tea for us," Brandon said.

The waitress raised herself up and shifted her
gaze
from Scarlett to me. "You sure you want sweet?"

I'd rather have had something that would look good smeared over the face of a pasty white waitress with bright red lipstick, but I held back from saying so. "Sweet will be fine." I knew I could use to lose a few pounds, but the woman had just lost her tip.

"Hey, Anthony," Brandon nudged my youngest after the waitress left. "What game are we watching? The Falcons or the Jaguars?"

"I like them both," Anthony replied, "but if they ever play each other it's the Jags."

"All right." Brandon high-fived him across the aisle.

"So, Brandon, how'd you and Deb here meet?" Scarlett said.

Why is she bringing up the cake incident? Like I don't have enough to be embarrassed about with the food donation and the money.

"It was the day she bought the cake for her daughter's party. We sort of bumped into each other in the parking lot." Brandon winked at me. Was he flirting? It had been so long since a man had given me attention, I couldn't be sure.

Ms. Waitress returned with a pitcher of sweet tea and three glasses. Instead of her chest, this time it was her hand on Brandon's shoulder. She was asking to have her eyes scratched out.

We ordered a large three-meat pizza for us and an extra-large pepperoni for the kids.

"So, tell us a little bit about yourself." Scarlett could make small talk with a monk. If I'd been alone with him, I'd have been lost in those brown eyes and unable to speak. "I don't recall seeing you around. Our town isn't that big. I'm sure I would've bumped into you once or twice."

"I just retired from the Navy. I got stationed in Mayport, and liked the area enough to move here. I've got an apartment over on Haydenview."

She asked the question I couldn't bring myself to ask. "Any wife or kids?"

"Divorced," he said. "No kids."

"Go, go, go!" Anthony stared up at the television in the corner of the room.

Brandon looked up at the large flat-panel screen. "Touchdown!" He and Anthony slapped hands again.

"Would you like to switch places so you can see TV better?" I stood to move.

"No, this is fine. Besides, I'd rather look at you."

My face warmed.

The waitress came back with the pizza and placed it in the center of the table. "Is there anything else I can get you?" She touched Brandon again. I grew to hate her more and more with each passing second.

"I think we're fine for now," he said.

"Okay, then." She gave him a wink before walking off.

"I think she likes you," Scarlett teased.

"She's not obvious, is she?" He laughed. "I think she needs to tone the lipstick down a bit. When I got here, she wasn't wearing any. If she keeps touching me I may have to go home and take a shower."

I laughed out loud. Good looking and funny. I could easily fall in love.

I had just shoved a bite of hot pizza in my mouth when I saw them walk through the door. Matthew and Michael. They glanced over at me,
and
then sat in a booth near the door. For a quick escape before the check came, I guessed. Anthony got up and sat down next to his father. You'd think Superman just flew into town.

Scarlett nudged me with her elbow. "So whose name do you think that Corvette is in?"

Brandon glanced over his shoulder to see who we were talking about.
I thought I'd better explain the reason we were badmouthing some guy on the other side of the restaurant. "He's my ex-husband."

Brandon nodded.

"It's owned by Patrice Windsome, his girlfriend." I saw a questioning look on Scarlett's face. "When he came over to the house, I took down the tag number and had my attorney look it up."

"Good for you." She took a sip of her drink. "I just don't get why a woman would let a man sit around doing nothing while she pays for everything. He must be real good in bed."

I shrugged my left shoulder.

Brandon leaned forward and lowered his voice. "He looks selfish enough for it to be all about him."

He just
might
be right, but I wasn't going to admit it. I'd never had my socks knocked off by Michael in bed. I wondered if Brandon was any different. My heart raced at the thought. I swore he could read my every thought, and I was less obvious than the waitress. My cheeks burned when he winked at me.

I looked from Brandon to Scarlett. "How did my love life come into play here?"

The touchy-feely waitress walked up to Michael's booth. She laughed at something he said, then brushed her hair back with her fingers. Why couldn't I keep focused on my own table? After a few moments, Michael handed some money to Matthew, who walked into the game room in the back. Anthony plodded over to me, his head down. He dropped down in the chair next to me with a frown on his face.

I glared at Michael. What had he said to upset my son? I wanted to toss the pizza pan at him, but decided that wouldn't be a Christian thing to do, especially on a Sunday. I patted Anthony's back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just waiting for the game to come back on." He glanced at the game room. A sign above the archway read NO ONE UNDER AGE 13 ALLOWED W/O ADULT.

I disliked video games, but I could take him this once. Before I got a chance to open my mouth, Brandon said, "Anthony, you like pinball?"

He shrugged. "I've never played."

"Well, we need to remedy that." Brandon rose. "Before halftime's over, would you like to watch me play a game?"

"Yeah." My son beamed. My heart warmed to Brandon for taking Anthony with him. What a nice man, and he's great to look at—coming and going.