Game of Hearts (6 page)

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Authors: Kathryn J. Bain

BOOK: Game of Hearts
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"Deb." Michael stood on the other side of the table. "Can we talk, in private?" His lips were thin and his jaw tight. I'm no genius, but I knew the talk wouldn't be pleasant.

Scarlett gave him a big smile. "Michael, how are you?"

"Fine." His eyes narrowed. "Deb."

I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "I don't think this is the place to discuss our problems. Do you?"

"I just want to know who this guy is coming around my children."

"I told you, he's a man I know from church." I had no intention of telling him I'd met Brandon in the supermarket. How would that sound? Yeah, I picked up a man in the meat market.

"Michael," Scarlett said. "I understand things must be tight for you, being unemployed and with a wedding coming up."

He placed his hands on his thin hips. "I'm getting by."

"So who's buying your lunch today, since you can't afford it on your own?"

I brushed Scarlett with my knee as I fought the urge to laugh. Michael glared down at us. His lips were almost white as he walked to the game room. After he paused to glance over at Brandon and Anthony, he tapped Matthew on his shoulder and spoke in his ear.

Matthew followed Michael from the room. Michael caught hold of the waitress's arm and whispered to her. She walked over to their table with a to-go box and placed their uneaten pizza inside. Michael took it and stormed out the door with Matthew chasing behind.

"I guess he didn't feel like staying around for lunch." Scarlett took a bite of the crust from her pizza.

"You shouldn't have said anything," I muttered. "He'll probably drive Matthew straight home and take off."

She smiled. "Maybe it'll embarrass him enough to pay up and see his kids more."

I figured it'd be the other way around. He'd have even less to do with us now.

Chapter
Five

 

I rolled over. The memory of our night of lovemaking ran through my mind. My petite body was clad in a beautiful red silky teddy as I floated beneath the champagne-colored satin sheets, my head surrounded by large fluffy pillows on a king-sized bed. The coolness of the fabric surrounded my bare thighs. Sunlight poured into the room, creating an orange glow against the soft white walls as it reflected from the large Cheval mirror standing in the corner. I touched the strong
,
muscular arm of the man lying next to me. Extending his lean body, he smiled seductively, slowly opening his brown eyes. Brandon placed his arms around my body, pulling me against him.

I jolted up, my breathing rapid. My mind struggled to adjust to my surroundings. The dream had seemed so real. Depression overcame me as I glanced around my dark, stuffy bedroom. The queen-sized bed with no headboard and the bland, faded comforter covering the rumpled white cotton sheets were no match for the luxurious bed I'd just dreamt about. And there certainly was no Brandon Nash beside me.

I climbed out of bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the six-dollar mirror glued to my bedroom door. I sucked in my stomach. More loose skin and flab than muscle—nothing petite here. I held up my breasts beneath the cotton nightshirt then let them go. They flopped down. When had gravity hit me so hard?

Enough of this. It's time to get moving. After having spent the last two Sundays beside the fit, firm body of Brandon Nash in church, this would be the Monday I'd start getting into shape. I'd gotten some exercise routines from Jory to help get me started.

"I think I need beauty sleep more than exercise," I grumbled as I walked to the bathroom. I paused and looked in the mirror on the medicine cabinet. What's the use? I'd gone from a swan to an ugly duckling. I hoped splashing cold water on my face would give me some life. It worked somewhat.

As I combed my hair, a few gray strands jumped out at me. Where had they come from? Good thing Brandon had gray hairs, too. After changing into a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, I walked back to my room.

I swore I heard my bed calling out for me. "Come lie down," it said. "I'm nice and comfortable. Come cuddle with me."

There's no way I
could
work out here. Grabbing my list, I headed to the living room. First warm up, march in place. Sixty seconds of that, then stretches. I bent, pulled, and stooped, trying to do the positions like the woman in the picture. I grunted, wheezed, and didn't come close. Of course, I was a bit older than twenty and I'd birthed three kids—something the lady doing the demonstrations surely had not. I stuck my tongue out at her.

Next on the list, fifteen jumping jacks. Fat chance. Then three sets of ten sit-ups. I don't think so. A one-mile walk. That I could do. But I'd have to make it quick, because the kids would be getting up for school soon. After pulling on my shoes, I headed out the door. Sweat crawled over my back after just three blocks. I had to argue with myself to continue. The bed yelled for me to return to it. I had to fight to keep from running home and flopping back under the covers.

"Well, if it isn't my lovely church lady out this morning."

I jumped at the voice, unaware anyone had come up behind me. Heat rose over my body when I saw Brandon. I spun away to avoid him looking into my eyes for fear they'd reveal my secret fantasy. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just running." He changed his stride to a walk and kept in step with me." I've never seen you out here before."

"My friend Jory's been trying to get me to take up an exercise routine," I panted. "I figured now's as good a time as any."

"It's a beautiful morning to start." He didn't strain to keep my pace. In fact, he could have crawled and kept up.

"Just right."

Silence stretched between us. Why couldn't I have Scarlett's ability to begin a conversation and keep it going? I glanced over at him. His tight, sleeveless tee shirt accentuated every muscle. I wished I'd put on something better than an oversized tee shirt with the band Journey on the front. Talk about showing my age.

Brandon interrupted the silence. "I have to cut this short. I've got to meet a guy in about an hour, and I don't think he'd appreciate me smelling like I do. Enjoy your walk, and I'll see you soon."

I watched him run off into the sunrise. Muscular legs protruded from his shorts. He'd gone the length of the block and turned back to wave. I walked backward as I waved back, tripping right over a curb. The earth mooshed beneath me and I fell. I landed in a pile of fresh fertilizer. The smell overwhelmed.

"Are you all right?" Brandon raced back toward me.

Why do I always do stupid stuff when he's around? "I'm fine. Probably could use a shower myself."

"I love how you can laugh at yourself." His masculine laugh made me even more aware of my situation.

"I guess I need to be getting back, too."

He offered his hand to help me up. I accepted. "I like the way you keep falling for me."

"Funny." The first time we'd met I looked like I'd wet myself. Now it seemed like I'd done something worse.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Concern flitted into his eyes.

"I'm sure." I brushed debris from my backside. "I just hope this isn't the start of a crappy day."

Brandon laughed a deep laugh as the sun bounced off his hair. How I wish we could be more than just friends. It wasn't every day I ran into someone as nice and handsome as Brandon.

"I guess you'd better go or you'll miss your meeting," I said.

"Right. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." I walked off in the opposite direction. I'd have to find a different route to avoid running into him in the future.

My house came into view on the next block. My ego complained again when a young blonde woman zoomed past me. Her pink running shorts showed off perfectly toned thighs. A couple of drops glistened on her forehead. She's what they mean when they say women don't sweat, they glow. My shirt clung to my back.

Dishes clattered as I walked in the back door. "Where were you?" Sarah poured cereal into a bowl for her breakfast.

"I went out for a walk." I didn't want to mention wanting to lose weight, afraid it would make Sarah think of herself. I knew she could use to lose a few pounds, but I didn't want to be accused of calling her fat.

"You should've gotten me up. I wouldn't mind going with you."

"Really?"

"Sure." A grin crossed over her lips. "What happened? You're all covered in dirt."

"I fell. I'm going to change.
What's with the shirt?"

Sarah had sewn an extra piece of red and blue fabric into each side of her black shirt at the seam, marking it larger. She no longer had a gap at her breasts.

"I just thought it might make it fit better." She tugged at the sides. "You think it looks stupid, don't you?"

"Heck, I think sagging pants over the boys' butts looks stupid. What do I know about fashion?"

"I'll just keep my jacket on,
and
then no one will see it. But it gives me some room across the chest."

The telephone on the side credenza rang. I reached over and picked it up.

"You're up awful early," my father yelled into the receiver. It'd be nice if he got his hearing aid fixed. "I thought with you not working, you'd be sleeping all day."

"I've got to get the kids ready for school. Besides, I need to find other work to make up for what I'm lacking at the car lot."

"I got a call from that husband of yours. Says he's getting married."

"We're divorced, Dad."

"Well, I just think it's a shame you let him go. He's a good man, and you're not getting any younger, you know?" He finished with a cynical laugh.

"I know." Tears formed in my eyes. Why did he have to be so mean? He was my father
—
he should be on my side. It's no wonder Mom took off with the mailman.

"What do you plan to do about it?"

"I don't plan to do anything about it." I grabbed a glass and filled it at the sink. "I don't want him back, Dad. We're divorced, and we both need to go on with our lives."

"I just hate the thought of you spending the rest of your life alone."

"There are other men out there."

"Yeah, but three kids can be a real turn-off for a man."

His words bit into my soul. He might have been right, but he didn't have to say it. I blocked the way as Sarah tried to head out of the room. "Would you like to talk with Sarah before she goes to school?"

The pain of my father's words always stung me. I'd never felt he loved me. I walked back to my room and flung my shoes into the corner. I took the sweatpants off and plopped down on the bed, listening as Sarah told her grandfather goodbye.

She walked into the room and closed the bedroom door behind her. "Mom, are you all right?"

"Yeah." I unhooked my bra under my shirt. "At least I will be once the girls are free, and I can get them into a different bra. This one's a bit wet from my walk."

"Way too much info, Mom."

I glanced in the mirror again. "It's hard to believe I used to be pretty once."

"You're still pretty. You just need a makeover."

"More like a remodel." I ran my hand around my chin. "Complete with full body work. If only it were that simple."

"All you need to do is fix your hair, maybe some different makeup, and change your wardrobe." Sarah picked up the shirt I planned to wear. She shook her head then discarded it on a nearby chair.

I slid into a pair of loose-fitting pants. I'd wait to take a shower until after the boys left for school. "Unfortunately, money doesn't grow on trees. There are other, more important things in need of buying."

"I'm sorry." Sarah hung her head.

"For what?"

"If it wasn't for us, you'd have more money."

"Don't talk like that. It's not your fault." I hadn't realized the kids might blame themselves for things being tight. "I wouldn't give you kids up for anything." As I pulled Sarah into a hug, anger rolled over me. I had to find a way to get Michael to pay his support.

She stood. "I'm going to head to school before you get all mushy on me. I can feel some sentiment coming on." She stopped as she got to the door. "Bye, Mom. Things'll get better."

"I know they will. Have a good day, honey."

My reflection stared back at me. I pulled my graying hair up off my shoulders and away from my face. A facial would be nice. Maybe even a new hairstyle. If only Michael would start paying his support. I reclined back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "It's unfair, God. He drives around in a brand new Corvette while I have a twelve-year-old Honda. I know he's making money. I don't care where. I just want him to start taking care of his kids."

****

My legs hurt from my walk. I pulled out some mentholated lotion and applied it to my sore muscles. It's bad enough I feel like my grandma, but now I smell
ed
like her too.

The phone rang as I waved goodbye to the boys heading for the school bus. Please don't let it be my father again. Michael's number came up on the caller ID. Even better.

"What do you want?"

"Whoa, don't even say hello." Michael let out a slight laugh. "That's pretty rude."

"Hello. By the way, you timed it perfectly. Your kids are all on their way to school, so you don't have to worry about talking to them. Goodbye."

"Wait a minute. Don't you ever catch a breath? There's the Deb I remember, all fire and ice. Nothing in between. What happened to the Christian woman you became? I thought God would end all that."

Just what I needed, more guilt for the morning. "My attitude comes from having to deal with a deadbeat dad. What do you want, Michael?"

"I just wanted to give you the date for the wedding. It's December 28. I'd like the kids to be here a few days early so they can come to the rehearsal and stuff. Patrice
wants to get to know them before we're married."

"Apparently you didn't tell her that was pointless since you never see them anyway." This was kind of fun.

"Now, don't be like that. You know I love my kids."

"Yeah, and you show it every day. Don't you?" For the first time in a while, I enjoyed speaking with Michael.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this. Just make sure they're available."

"I might see fit to help out if some child support came my way. I can't imagine you'd want to explain to your fiancée why your children aren't wearing clothes that fit."

A pause came over the telephone.

"Hold on a moment." He covered the phone and spoke to someone. A muffled goodbye came from the line. "I'll come get them. Patrice and I'll buy them some clothes for the wedding. She likes name brand. I love the woman, but she's definitely not as good as you are at saving a buck. I'll call and let you know later when we'll be there." He hung up.

I stared at the phone. Yeah, he'll buy them all new things and look like the hero. The kids will probably believe everything he tells them.

Wait a minute. Did he actually pay me a compliment?

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