Somewhere in the Middle (14 page)

I rolled my eyes. "Both our kisses have been Eli's fault."

Eli nodded, glad to take credit.

"Well, Roone clearly doesn't mind."

I ignored that. "Did I mention he's coming for dinner tomorrow night?"
Since I was doing the cooking, I'd known no one would mind.

"Good." Mom smiled. "I didn't really get to talk to him very much when
he picked you up for the dance."

"Me, either," said Dad. "Seems like a nice kid, though."

"He didn't know who Batman was."

Thanks, Eli,
I thought when everyone looked from him to me in
shock. I downplayed it by shrugging it off. "Must not be read comic
books."

"Or go to movies," said Cory with a frown.

"Or watch TV," added Dad.

"So he's into other things. So what? I couldn't tell you one thing
about NASCAR, and you know how popular that is around here." Talladega,
anyone? "What should I cook for dinner? Something healthy. I've never
seen him eat anything but salad."

Cory, our junk food junkie, shook his head in disbelief. "Then you two
are perfect for each other."

Mom swatted him. "We still have some of the steaks we bought from
Bruce Stephens." He was an old school friend of my parents who had
free-range livestock.

"Perfect." I was already planning what I'd serve with them and making
a mental shopping list. But before I could actually complete it, I had to
know one thing. That's why I texted Roone as soon as the dishes were done
and I was in the privacy of my room.

R u vegetarian?

He answered almost immediately.
No.

Excellent, I thought, moving ahead with my plans.

Saturday I went by Nana's to see if she needed anything. The first
words out of her mouth when she opened her front door? "You're glowing.
Are you pregnant?"

"Really, Nana? I mean
really
?" I brushed past her and went
inside.

Nana aka Lillian Rodale Sayers, my dad's widowed mom, lived in a
two-bedroom house just a few blocks from ours. Petite and dainty, she kept
the place so spotless it always smelled of lemon furniture polish. Worse,
her land-mine of a living room scared me stupid, as in I was always
waiting for the moment when I knocked some priceless antique off a
hundred-year old accent table and broke it. Or maybe I'd just spill
cherry Kool-Aid on the mauve seat of a Queen Anne chair.

Today Nana wore a periwinkle pantsuit that made her white hair look
violet. "Then you must be in love. What's his name?"

"I'm not in love, okay? Now where's your grocery list? I'm having
company for dinner, and I have a lot of getting ready to do."

"You're not going to visit for a while?"

I mentally groaned. "I really don't have time, but I promise I will
soon." Visiting with Nana was a lot like being lost in a maze with her.
Though I might think I knew where we were headed conversation-wise, we
always wound up somewhere else.

"Hmph! Who's eating with you?"

"A friend."

"Dayna?" Nana knew both my closest friends. "That sweet Sidney?"

"A new friend. Roone Thorsen."

"I knew it! Saw the dance photos on Rosa Garza's Facebook page. He's
quite the hunk." Nana, who was shockingly computer savvy and loved all
forms of social media, handed over her shopping list with a sly
smile.

I left quickly and without another word. And when I returned with her
groceries, I wouldn't let her steer me in the boyfriend direction again.
Thanks to her, I now wondered if my feelings for Roone were tattooed on
my forehead.

I kept my dinner menu simple--steaks, baked potatoes, fresh green
beans, salad. I even bought yeast and extra flour so I could bake some
bread. Though I could've done that the old-time way and often did, I
simply put everything in our electric bread maker today and let it do its
thing while I cleaned house and otherwise prepared for Roone.

Around noon, I texted him with a reminder and a dinner time. He got
right back to me with confirmation that he'd be there. Mom actually
helped me in the kitchen when I finally began to prepare for the evening,
a nice surprise that gave me a chance to get dressed without hurrying. I
didn't take too many pains. Dad would've noticed.

But I did straighten my hair even more than it naturally was and took
care to dress in something that looked halfway nice--a top that Dayna had
left behind the night she dressed for the dance. Red with a sheer ruffle
that could be worn off the shoulders, it had a built-in bra that hugged
my curves nicely. A glance in the mirror told me I looked pretty dang
good. I impulsively snapped a picture of myself and texted it to Dayna
with a brief note:
Do u mind?

She answered right back:
No.
Ur lookin hot. Why?

Me:
Roone.

Her:
LMAO.

Laughing my ass off? Yeah, she probably was. I stuck out my tongue at
the mirror and sent her that shot, too. Then I set the phone firmly
aside.

"Everly? Roone's here." Mom's shout barely made it to my room.

Ach! Thirty minutes early. But I was ready, if oddly nervous.
Barefoot, I ran down the hall to the front door, but Dad had beat me to
it. "Come in. Come in."

Roone did. I immediately noticed a couple of things. One, there were
raindrops on his hair and shoulders. Two, his clothes fit. As in
perfectly. Which meant his long-sleeved chocolate brown T-shirt hugged
his shoulders, biceps, and pecs, revealing much more of his body shape
than his tux ever had.

Click!

My mom actually gasped. Dad's jaw dropped. Cory's eyebrows shot up. As
for Eli, he reached out and actually poked Roone's arm as if he thought
it might deflate or something.

I wanted to die and blurted the first thing that popped into my head.
"You guys remember Roone." As if they'd forget him in a week.

"Of course," said Mom, gushing now that she'd caught her breath. "It's
so nice to see you again."

"You, too." Roone managed a smile even though he had to be feeling
self-conscious. My family couldn't take their eyes off him.

"Dinner's almost ready. I just have to grill the steaks. Want to
help?"

"Yeah, sure." Clearly grateful for the rescue, he followed me to the
kitchen. "You look amazing."

"Really? I mean, thank you. This top is Dayna's. I don't usually do
shiny. Jeans are mine, though." God, could I babble worse? "The, um,
grill's on the patio. I know it's probably too cold to be cooking
outside, but the meat will taste better if we do. You don't have a
problem with cooking over charcoal, do you? I know some people worry
about carcinogens."

He just shook his head.

I explained how healthy this particular beef was, more babbling. But I
couldn't seem to stop myself. Grabbing the tray of steaks and a barbecue
fork, I headed for the back door.

"Where are your shoes?"

I looked down and laughed at myself.
Deep breaths, Everly.
"I'll just get some flip-flops from the utility room." There was a basket
there full of shoes we'd taken off at the back door for one reason or
another. I chose a red pair to match my shirt. Moments later we were
standing on the deck. I handed Roone the tray to hold and began laying
rib eye steaks on the hot grill. Amazing smells instantly rose from the
sizzling meat.

I felt Roone move away and found him standing at the tripod, looking
it over. "Our telescope is an older model. It's inside now because of the
iffy weather, but in the summer we leave it out most of the time. Cory
can spend hours looking at the sky, and you know I love to do that,
too."

Roone nodded that he did, indeed, know.

Once I shut the grill, we went back inside. I promptly ushered Roone
to the den where my dad and brothers waited. I suspected they had
questions for him about his workout regimen. Dad and Cory both had gym
memberships and took their weight lifting way too seriously. But Dad was
in the kitchen when I got back there. Just as I was noticing how nice he
looked--T-shirt and jeans that weren't threadbare--he pulled me
aside.

"Is Roone on steroids?"

"As if. He won't even take a Tylenol."

"Then he must have a hell of workout schedule."

"Actually, I think it might be genetic." I set the tray down and began
washing my hands at the sink. "His dad and brother look just like
that."

"Where's he from?" asked Mom, who'd joined us.

"NowhereNear."

Dad frowned. "Huh?"

"That's all he ever says. If you're that curious, you should ask to
him. Maybe he'll tell you." As in, get out of the kitchen, you're
cramping my style. Dad took the hint and left. I immediately got busy
checking on the bacon-wrapped green bean bundles, a family favorite,
which were in the oven and always took way longer to cook than I
expected. Meanwhile, Mom finished setting the table, using the good
stuff. That made me smile. My parents were clearly trying to make a good
impression.

I went outside a couple of times to check on the steaks. The last time
I detoured by the den on my way out to see how Roone was doing. I figured
he might be tired of being interrogated by my deputy of a dad, who could
be pretty intense without meaning to. I didn't actually go in, choosing
instead to linger just outside the door and out of sight.

Eli had the floor. "You look like Thor."

"Thor from
ÁsgarÐr
?" Roone, who apparently knew at
least one superhero, sounded surprised. I noticed that he didn't
pronounce Asgard the same way we did.

"Uh-huh. I have a hammer just like his. Want me to get it?"

"Sure."

Eli shot out of the den and right past me, his little legs pumping as
he flew down the hall and into his room. A nanosecond later, he came
hurtling back, his trusty shield and hammer in hand. That made me smile.
Cute. Definitely cute.

Click!

"This is so cool." I heard a smile in Roone's voice and could imagine
him looking over the plastic gear.

"Everly got it for me. We love superheroes."

"Who's her favorite?"

"You."

All the guys laughed, my dad loudest of all.

"Believe me, I'm no superhero," Roone told them.

Eli wasn't having it. "But you look just like one."

Was my baby brother poking Roone's muscles again? Mentally groaning, I
ducked inside the den to rescue our dinner guest. "Hey. Help me outside
please?"

Roone jumped up and followed me onto the deck again.

I immediately began apologizing. "I'm so sorry about Eli. Once he gets
an idea in his head, he won't let go of it, and superheroes are his
current obsession."

"He said you like them, too."

"Well, what's not to like?" I handed Roone the tray and began to fork
the steaks onto it. Then I shut the grill top for the last time. He
followed me inside. "Dinner's ready!" I yelled to alert everyone to hot
food. Yeah, we were all about formality at the Sayers home.

Three males instantly spilled out of the den. Mom, just setting the
last dish on the cloth, pointed to the head of our table for six. Roone
went there, but didn't sit until he'd helped me with my chair, manners
not lost on my parents, who beamed at him. Clearly my boyfriend was a
hit.

Un-
boyfriend, I sternly reminded myself. I felt what could only
be a pang of regret that everything was just an illusion that would
inevitably end. When, I didn't know. But it could be very soon since the
girls at McAlister seemed to have moved on. That made me a little
sad.

What on earth would I think about all day every day if not him? Roone
definitely dominated my every waking thought, and the idea of only being
entitled to wishful contemplation made me sad. As for the possibility he
might move onto another girl, well, that idea was nothing but
unbearable.

Everything was delicious, thank goodness, and the meal a success. The
only bad thing about our time at the dinner table was my constant need to
pull up Dayna's shirt to cover my shoulders. Roone made a "happy plate,"
a preschool term for eating everything you were given. Eli praised him
for it, much to everyone's amusement. For dessert we had apple pie,
thanks to Mom making several and freezing them a couple of months ago.
Hot from the oven, each piece melted the vanilla ice cream she scooped
onto it.

Though Roone volunteered to help us clear the table, I wouldn't let
him. Then Mom shooed me out of the kitchen, too, once the guys retired to
the den again and we finished stacking dirty dishes in the sink.

"Save Roone," she told me, no doubt referring to the football game
that was about to come on. Cory and Dad always got way involved in them
and usually ended up shouting at the TV.

So I stuck my head through the doorway and caught his eye, motioning
for him to make his escape. We walked to my room together. I gave him the
tour, if you could actually call a short trek down a single hall
that.

"Bathroom, parents' room, Eli's room, though Cory may soon be in there
full time, too." I shared how miserable my big brother was living where
he was now. "He thinks he won't mind sharing a bed with Eli, but believe
me, he will. Eli flips like a pancake when he's sleeping, which means
it's not uncommon to wake with his big toe stuck up your nose."

Roone grinned. "Cory can't get another apartment here in town?"

"He's looked before, but didn't have any luck. And apartment living
can be very expensive if you don't split the rent, which means he'll have
to deal with another roommate. But I'm thinking he'll still have to
eventually. Mom and Dad will be all up in his business if he doesn't."
We'd reached my door by then. "This is my room."

Roone glanced around, his gaze lingering on my frilly curtains, my
packed bookcase, my posters, and my flat screen TV.

I sat on the bed and patted the spot next to me since there wasn't a
chair in there besides my vanity stool, which just might collapse if
someone as big as he was sat in it. Roone hesitated, oddly ill at ease
considering how well dinner had gone.