Lights Out (18 page)

“What do you need?” he asked, and they began to discuss money and what would need to be done to ensure the girls had a good holiday.

* * *

Joe stopped by the shop to review next week’s schedule. It was Monday morning.

“She’s in the back,” the girl at the counter said. She knew he was here to see Piper, but gave him an I’m interested smile anyway. He didn’t even notice. He immediately turned and walked back to Piper’s office. The door stood slightly ajar. He could see in. She was changing into the shop’s uniform polo; it lay on the desk in front of her. She was standing in a sports bra and reaching for the polo. He watched her pull it over her head and felt his blood warm, his pulse quicken. He was disappointed by the way Saturday night had turned out. He knocked.

”Just a second,” she said, pulling all of that hair into a ponytail. He stepped back as she opened the door fully.

“Hey. Calendar alignment time already?” she asked, reaching over the desk to pull her purse from a side drawer. She started digging though it for her BlackBerry. “What does our week look like?” she said, finding it, waiting for him to sit.

“Monday and Thursday this week,” he replied.

“Great. That works for me. Duly noted,” she said, fingers flying over her BlackBerry as she made note of the days. “Thanks for bringing Shane to zydeco night. He and the girls had a great time. Looks like you may have had one, too,” she said, teasing and watching the discomfort in his eyes. “Should I expect any more poetry?” She chuckled.

He smiled. “I didn’t invite her to zydeco night or back to my house. Her visit was not planned, at least not by me. She left soon after you did,” he said, his eyes on hers.

“Good to know,” she said, inwardly pleased that he’d wanted her to know that.

“Basketball season is approaching. Are you signing Taylor up to play?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Probably, but I’ll ask her,” she said.

“Okay then, see you later,” he said. He felt better now that he’d cleared that up.

Halloween night found Piper standing in the volunteer’s booth in costume. She dressed as a boxer, courtesy of her father’s gym. She was here to check in and find the location of the dunking booth, tonight’s volunteer assignment. She was part of the second group of dunkers, those that belonged to the parents’ group, who were designated to give the teachers and coaches—the real headliners—a break from the water.

Piper had left her sisters near the entrance—Ken in a cheerleader’s costume and Taylor dressed to represent Team Edward, whatever that meant.

“We’ll find you later,” they’d said. They didn’t want their older sister following them around. The alarm on her cell chimed, interrupting her from her wanderings, a reminder to get to the dunking booth on time. She’d worn her swimsuit under her costume, so it was now or never.

Next to the dunking booth stood Joe, a nice coincidence that he was scheduled for the same time as she was. She secretly hoped they would be working together tonight, especially in light of his semi-explanation/apology the other day.

“Hi,” he said, watching her walk toward the booth. “You volunteered to help here tonight?”

“I did,” she said, stopping next to him. “For the next hour. You?”

“The same,” he said.

They stood together, eyeing the teacher currently sitting in the booth, not quite sure who he was. They stood and watched as a boy missed his final shot.

“So are you two working the next hour?” the woman standing behind the table asked, looking them over.

“Yes,” Piper said.

“Yes," Joe replied.

“Good. Since you’re both here, let me explain what’s required of each of you tonight.” Piper and Joe listened attentively to her explanation.

“Who’s going to be first in the booth?” she asked, looking between the two of them after she stopped talking.

“I don’t mind going first,” Joe replied.

Joe walked over to the booth and began to disrobe. She watched as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He owned a nice upper body, developed and lean, and touched by the sun; it was a really nice match to the hair that brushed his shoulders. He climbed up the ladder, walked across the seat or ledge or whatever it was called, and took a seat. He lifted his arms over his head in a stretch, shook his head, and placed his hands on either side of his body. He was relaxed on the seat—ready, cool, waiting for their first customer.

“Uncle Joe,” Shane called out, running toward them full-out. “Come on, Taylor, he’s here.” Both children ran headlong toward the booth, skidding to a stop in front of Piper and looking over at Joe, big-ass grins on their faces, tickets in hand.

“Hey, Uncle Joe!” Shane said, waving to him. “You’re going down, dude!” Shane handed over his tickets to Piper. She handed him three balls in exchange.

Shane threw. The first ball missed wide, followed by his second, which was too high.

“Is that the best you can do?” Joe asked.

“Watch this,” Shane said, throwing his final ball, putting all his effort into it, watching it swing left.

Joe laughed. “Dude, you’re letting our family down,” he said, smiling.

“Piper, can I have another try?” He dug into his pocket for more tickets, handing them to her, and going to stand back at the line. Joe yawned, making a big production of it as he laughed while Shane missed again, again, and again.

“Dude, you throw like a girl,” Joe teased.

Taylor was next in line. She threw her first ball—truly like a girl—and it knocked Joe into the water. Shane and Taylor whooped it up like they’d won the World Series.

“Bet you can’t do it again,” Joe said, lifting himself out of the water, his awesome upper body strength on display, muscles straining, water rushing over hard surfaces as he resumed his seat on the bench.

Taylor threw her second ball and it hit. Joe fell again, blond hair moving across the surface of the water, shorts ballooning out around him as he dropped like a torpedo, hitting the bottom with his feet and pushing up, breaking the surface with a huge smile on his face.

Be still my heart, Piper thought. Taylor and Shane went crazy then, dancing around, laughing. Joe laughed with them this time and pulled himself up again, pushing his hair away from his face.

“One more time, Piper,” Taylor said.

“One more time,” Piper said, and watched as Taylor threw her final ball. And wouldn’t you know it, Joe went down for the third time in a row. He came up, treading water, laughing.

“Good job, Taylor. You’ve got some arm,” he said and pulled himself up again.

The remainder of his time was spent falling and getting out of the water, as Shane and Taylor were determined to throw as many times as they could. Although other kids purchased tickets and took their chances, too, none were as successful as Taylor. Shane finally hit the mark, too. Thankfully, Joe’s thirty minutes were over.

She was up next. Taylor and Shane wouldn’t leave, and more of their friends were milling about now, waiting for their chance to dunk her. Joe had climbed down and was standing next to the tank, in the process of drying off. She had gotten in a peek but quickly turned away, not wanting to get caught staring. She waited until he was dressed and back at the booth, where he took over as ticket-taker.

“Your turn,” he said and watched as she removed her robe and shimmied out of those boxing shorts, revealing a bold pink full-bodied swimsuit. It wasn’t a bikini—there was nothing skimpy about it—but it fit her like a second skin. He stared at her for a moment, perusing her from head to toe, before he caught himself. Enough, Joe. He had a job to do, and it wasn’t to stand here and gawk.

“Could I play?” one of Shane’s friends asked, pulling him from his study of Piper.

“Sure,” he said, taking the kid’s ticket and handing him three balls. Piper had kicked off her shoes and was now climbing the stairs, her back to them, her legs and butt moving nicely up the stairs and over to the bench above the water where she took her seat.

“Ready,” he called out, and she smiled. He smiled back, too, unscripted, just giving in to the pleasure of watching a lovely woman smile at him. He liked her, and liked being around her. He still wanted her—hadn’t really ever stopped.

The kid threw the first ball, and it hit. She went under and he watched as her arms propelled her back up to the surface. She laughed and started to pull herself up. He watched that, too, that little part of her swimsuit bottom that had risen just a little bit, offering a glimpse of a well-toned ass.

She pulled herself up, resumed her position, and was hit again. He laughed this time, and he spent the remainder of her time in the booth encouraging the kids to hit her, teasing her, and smiling at her.

She watched him with the kids, laughing as he helped some of the young ones throw balls. Except for that one time, their pitches went wide. He laughed and talked with the other adults too, and if she thought him sexy before, he was in woman-killing form now.

She was back to the way she’d wanted him in the beginning. So what if he had other women? She could be one, for a night or two. She wanted to, and had agreed to it before the girls came. She would have a talk with her feelings and come to some type of truce with them about Joe. He was too good to pass up. She would work around her sisters and ask him for the hookup this time. It’s what she wanted, anyway. There was no use pretending.

She sat through the remaining minutes, her decision solidifying in her mind. No worry as to whether he’d be on board; of that she had no doubt. She might as well ask tonight if she got the chance.

Coach Stanton, the next dunkee, had arrived, bringing with him a truckload of students willing to pay a price to dunk the coach. He was preparing to sit in, the headliner for the next hour, and the line of kids was twice as long as theirs had been. She dried off, put her clothes on, and walked over to the table to count tickets. Joe was waiting for her, smiling.

They worked in silence for a while, each counting their stacks of tickets. She was aware of him, standing next to her. Here goes nothing, she thought.

“You’re headed home after this?” she asked.

“Not sure,” he said, head bent, his eyes on his hands as they moved tickets from one pile to another, counting. “You?” he asked.

“I’m sticking around. Shane’s coming home with me, remember?” she said.

“I know, not that he’d let me forget,” he said. Done with his counting, he looked at her eyes, which were focused on the tickets in front of her. Her lips moved as she counted aloud. She was a study in concentration, like she was employed by a major accounting firm. Everything was organized and efficient with Piper. He waited until she was done.

“Thirty-six,” he said and gave his stack to her. She combined it with hers before placing all of them in the clear plastic baggie. She wrote the number with a black marker on the front. He watched as she bent over and placed it under the table in the larger envelope, and then watched her rise and smile at him.

“Want to hang out for a while?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, offering up a surprised and unscripted smile. “Where to first?”

“Feed me,” he said, and she laughed, grabbed his hand, and headed toward the food booth.

* * *

Piper was up early Sunday morning in spite of getting home near midnight. The Halloween carnival ended at eleven and hadn’t gone according to her plan, at all, again. There was a plot afoot in the universe to keep her and Joe apart; at this rate, they’d never get together.

Mr. Marshall had a crush on her. Ugh. He was a nice man and all, but not her type. He had spent more than enough time with her and Joe last night, and her plans were thwarted again. She’d given every possible hint at her disposal to get him to move along. No such luck. After about an hour or more, Joe had given up, too. He left before she’d gotten the chance to ask him. Mr. Marshall was her very own version of Sondra, and a not-so-perfect ending to her evening.

It was quiet this morning. The kids were sleeping, and it was the first quiet she’d had in a while. She showered and headed toward the kitchen, in the mood for pancakes. She opened Ken’s door. Yep, sound asleep. Pepper stood up and trotted out. Next she checked on Taylor, who was in the top bunk. Piper couldn’t see her face. Shane slept snuggled into the lower bunk, moving around a little as she peered in. Piper and the dogs made their way downstairs and to the kitchen. Piper opened the back door and they scampered out.

She turned the coffee maker on, walked over to the sink, and looked out the window above it that faced her back yard. She watched as McKenzie and Pepper made the backyard rounds, searching for early morning prey. She poured herself a cup and walked over to the door, letting the dogs in. They both trotted upstairs and took their usual sleeping places outside the girls’ doors.

She turned and walked over to the dishwasher. Of course it needed to be emptied. She opened the dishwasher door, preparing to put the dishes away. She walked over to the CD player and selected a nice, slow zydeco tune to start the day. She turned the volume to low and went back to work removing dishes from the dishwasher.

She didn’t hear Shane enter; just felt the sting of someone hitting her butt and the shock had her standing up quickly, too quickly. Her head caught the corner of the cabinet—hard.