Shadows of Yesterday
Page 12
“You’ll need your coat. It’s cold out there.”
“We don’t have to leave the mall. There’s a good salad bar in”
“That’s rabbit food. I’m hungrier than that. Besides, I promised Sarah I was going to fatten you up.” He didn’t permit Leigh to protest, but asked, “Where is Sarah, by the way?”
“A lady who lives near us keeps the children of working mothers in her home. Sarah stays with her on days when I have to work several hours at a stretch.”
“Oh, by the way,” he said, taking a slip of paper from his vest pocket. “Here is my telephone number. It’s unlisted because I’m out of town quite a bit. Why should I clutter up the phone book?” he asked, smiling.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if and when she’d ever have occasion to call him.
“Feel free to use it whenever you want.” He grinned engagingly.
They wended their way among the shoppers—harried, hurried, or indifferent—to the small office the mall’s managers had provided for her use. It was located between the men’s and ladies’ restrooms and the pay telephones. When Leigh had retrieved her coat and purse, they started for one of the exits.
The truck was as cluttered and dirty as before and reluctant to start in the cold weather, but Chad pumped it to life and drove it out of the parking lot. He seemed to have already decided where they were going and didn’t consult Leigh.
“Chad, are you from Midland? How did George and the others know you?”
“I was born here and went to the Midland public schools all twelve grades before going to Tech. Most old-timers know me and my folks.”
She digested that piece of information, then asked, “Do you still live here?”
“Yes, but I travel a lot.”
“On jobs?”
He negotiated a left turn before he answered laconically, “Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Just what do you do? George asked you about a job. Do you always work on airplanes?” She knew there were several charter services out of Midland. Many oil tycoons had their own planes.
“Well, sure, I do a bit of that.”
He braked the truck in front of a restaurant, swung open his door, and came around to assist her out. The wind beat against them as they hustled to the door of the restaurant. Leigh hadn’t paid attention to where they were going, but as soon as they went through the door, her nose informed her she was in a barbecue house. The aroma was spicy and potent and full-bodied, tangy with wood smoke.
From the jukebox in the corner, Willie Nelson begged mammas not to let their babies grow up to be cowboys. All the stools at the long counter running the breadth of the building were taken by businessmen in three-piece suits, roughnecks in oil-slicked jeans, and cattlemen in high-heeled riding boots.
Chad took Leigh’s arm and propelled her toward one of the few booths along the tinted windows, which were fogged by grease and dust. He slid into the red imitation leather-covered seat across from her, took off his hat, and set it, crown side down, in the windowsill. Boyishly his fingers ruffled through his hair. Leigh found the gesture strangely seductive.
“Do you want me to hang it up?” he asked of her coat as she shook it off.
“No, thank you. I’ll just leave it here.”
“That’s a very becoming outfit,” he said. His eyes toured the black bouclé knit sweater that clung provocatively to her breasts and traveled down to the wide belt of woven yarns in various bright colors that cinched her waist. Her black wool slacks fit hips and thighs enviably trim. “Or perhaps I should say it’s you that makes the outfit look good.”
“Thank you. You’re looking good yourself.” She hoped he didn’t feel damned with faint praise, but she could scarcely blurt out the truth: that he looked too downright sexy for words.
Chad waved to the harassed waitress behind the counter and she made her way around the corner of the bar toward their booth.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked Leigh.
“Iced tea.”
He smiled broadly. “You’ve become a Texan whether you like it or not. Iced tea isn’t a seasonal drink around here, but a year-round one.”
“Hiya, Chad,” the waitress said warmly as she sauntered up to the table. Her generous bosom was practically bursting from her pale blue polyester uniform, and she wore flamboyant rhinestone-rope earrings beneath the teased platinum hair that was lacquered with hairspray. The woman’s garish makeup would have been more appropriate on a Las Vegas runway, and Leigh was reminded of the golden-hearted madams in Western movies. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine, Sue. How’s Jack?”
“Mean and fat. Have you ever seen him any other way?” She laughed flirtatiously. “Where’ve you been, Chad? We missed you at that big dance a couple of weeks ago.”
“I was out of town.”
“Big job?”
He shrugged, dismissing the subject. “This is Leigh Bransom. She’d like a glass of iced tea.”
“Hiya, Leigh,” Sue said, smiling broadly and revealing a jaw full of gold teeth. “What about you, Chad? What’ll you have?”
“Got a cold beer back there?”
“Ever known me not to?” She laughed again. “Be right back with it to take your order.”
“Do you like barbecue?” he asked Leigh, opening up the menu, which had seen better days—better years.
“Yes,” she said slowly. It was a qualified answer.
“But?” he prodded.
She smiled. “But I usually don’t eat so much for lunch.”
He folded his hands on the green Formica tabletop and leaned toward her. “Did you deny yourself nutritional food when you were feeding Sarah?”
Leigh felt as if a magic wand had swept down her body and painted it with hot color. She swiftly dropped her eyes. They fell to Chad’s clasped hands where they rested on the table between white paper napkin-wrapped silverware. They were nice hands, strong, lean, tanned, sprinkled with brown hair. She knew how sensitive, how soothing, they could be. He had stroked Sarah’s cheek when it was still sticky with amniotic fluid. He had watched as Leigh had bared her breast and offered it to Sarah. He had touched her baby’s face while Sarah suckled at Leigh’s breast.
Yet now, talking about it embarrassed her. Ever since the kiss last night. That had changed things. The kiss in the hospital didn’t count. That had been a comradely, congratulatory kiss for a job well done. But last night had been something else. His probing tongue had unleashed a well of eroticism Leigh hadn’t known she possessed, and now everything they said took on a sexual connotation. But only in her mind. He probably
“We don’t have to leave the mall. There’s a good salad bar in”
“That’s rabbit food. I’m hungrier than that. Besides, I promised Sarah I was going to fatten you up.” He didn’t permit Leigh to protest, but asked, “Where is Sarah, by the way?”
“A lady who lives near us keeps the children of working mothers in her home. Sarah stays with her on days when I have to work several hours at a stretch.”
“Oh, by the way,” he said, taking a slip of paper from his vest pocket. “Here is my telephone number. It’s unlisted because I’m out of town quite a bit. Why should I clutter up the phone book?” he asked, smiling.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if and when she’d ever have occasion to call him.
“Feel free to use it whenever you want.” He grinned engagingly.
They wended their way among the shoppers—harried, hurried, or indifferent—to the small office the mall’s managers had provided for her use. It was located between the men’s and ladies’ restrooms and the pay telephones. When Leigh had retrieved her coat and purse, they started for one of the exits.
The truck was as cluttered and dirty as before and reluctant to start in the cold weather, but Chad pumped it to life and drove it out of the parking lot. He seemed to have already decided where they were going and didn’t consult Leigh.
“Chad, are you from Midland? How did George and the others know you?”
“I was born here and went to the Midland public schools all twelve grades before going to Tech. Most old-timers know me and my folks.”
She digested that piece of information, then asked, “Do you still live here?”
“Yes, but I travel a lot.”
“On jobs?”
He negotiated a left turn before he answered laconically, “Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Just what do you do? George asked you about a job. Do you always work on airplanes?” She knew there were several charter services out of Midland. Many oil tycoons had their own planes.
“Well, sure, I do a bit of that.”
He braked the truck in front of a restaurant, swung open his door, and came around to assist her out. The wind beat against them as they hustled to the door of the restaurant. Leigh hadn’t paid attention to where they were going, but as soon as they went through the door, her nose informed her she was in a barbecue house. The aroma was spicy and potent and full-bodied, tangy with wood smoke.
From the jukebox in the corner, Willie Nelson begged mammas not to let their babies grow up to be cowboys. All the stools at the long counter running the breadth of the building were taken by businessmen in three-piece suits, roughnecks in oil-slicked jeans, and cattlemen in high-heeled riding boots.
Chad took Leigh’s arm and propelled her toward one of the few booths along the tinted windows, which were fogged by grease and dust. He slid into the red imitation leather-covered seat across from her, took off his hat, and set it, crown side down, in the windowsill. Boyishly his fingers ruffled through his hair. Leigh found the gesture strangely seductive.
“Do you want me to hang it up?” he asked of her coat as she shook it off.
“No, thank you. I’ll just leave it here.”
“That’s a very becoming outfit,” he said. His eyes toured the black bouclé knit sweater that clung provocatively to her breasts and traveled down to the wide belt of woven yarns in various bright colors that cinched her waist. Her black wool slacks fit hips and thighs enviably trim. “Or perhaps I should say it’s you that makes the outfit look good.”
“Thank you. You’re looking good yourself.” She hoped he didn’t feel damned with faint praise, but she could scarcely blurt out the truth: that he looked too downright sexy for words.
Chad waved to the harassed waitress behind the counter and she made her way around the corner of the bar toward their booth.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked Leigh.
“Iced tea.”
He smiled broadly. “You’ve become a Texan whether you like it or not. Iced tea isn’t a seasonal drink around here, but a year-round one.”
“Hiya, Chad,” the waitress said warmly as she sauntered up to the table. Her generous bosom was practically bursting from her pale blue polyester uniform, and she wore flamboyant rhinestone-rope earrings beneath the teased platinum hair that was lacquered with hairspray. The woman’s garish makeup would have been more appropriate on a Las Vegas runway, and Leigh was reminded of the golden-hearted madams in Western movies. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine, Sue. How’s Jack?”
“Mean and fat. Have you ever seen him any other way?” She laughed flirtatiously. “Where’ve you been, Chad? We missed you at that big dance a couple of weeks ago.”
“I was out of town.”
“Big job?”
He shrugged, dismissing the subject. “This is Leigh Bransom. She’d like a glass of iced tea.”
“Hiya, Leigh,” Sue said, smiling broadly and revealing a jaw full of gold teeth. “What about you, Chad? What’ll you have?”
“Got a cold beer back there?”
“Ever known me not to?” She laughed again. “Be right back with it to take your order.”
“Do you like barbecue?” he asked Leigh, opening up the menu, which had seen better days—better years.
“Yes,” she said slowly. It was a qualified answer.
“But?” he prodded.
She smiled. “But I usually don’t eat so much for lunch.”
He folded his hands on the green Formica tabletop and leaned toward her. “Did you deny yourself nutritional food when you were feeding Sarah?”
Leigh felt as if a magic wand had swept down her body and painted it with hot color. She swiftly dropped her eyes. They fell to Chad’s clasped hands where they rested on the table between white paper napkin-wrapped silverware. They were nice hands, strong, lean, tanned, sprinkled with brown hair. She knew how sensitive, how soothing, they could be. He had stroked Sarah’s cheek when it was still sticky with amniotic fluid. He had watched as Leigh had bared her breast and offered it to Sarah. He had touched her baby’s face while Sarah suckled at Leigh’s breast.
Yet now, talking about it embarrassed her. Ever since the kiss last night. That had changed things. The kiss in the hospital didn’t count. That had been a comradely, congratulatory kiss for a job well done. But last night had been something else. His probing tongue had unleashed a well of eroticism Leigh hadn’t known she possessed, and now everything they said took on a sexual connotation. But only in her mind. He probably
