A Soldier Finds His Way (16 page)

A car meant independence. The sooner she had one, the better. “When?”

“Now. I’ll be over to pick you up in a few minutes.”

Audra hopped into Kyle’s SUV as soon as it stopped in front of the house. “How much does Steve’s sister want for the car?”

Kyle shot her a smile. “Less than what you said you’d be willing to pay for one.”

“That’s great. I hope this car works out. Mom and Dad have been shuttling me back and forth to work and giving me rides whenever I ask. I appreciate everything they do for me, but I miss having my own wheels.”

“Can’t blame you there.”

Kyle turned into the lot at Steve’s Automotive.

Audra pointed to a white Toyota parked alongside the building with a for sale sign wedged under its windshield wiper. “There it is.”

Audra walked around the car a few times.

Kyle smiled at her from across the hood of the vehicle. “Nice looking car, isn’t it?”

“If this baby drives half as good as she looks, she’s going home with me.”

“She drives like a charm.” A smiling man approached, flashed a wave at Kyle, and shook Audra’s hand. “Hi. I’m Steve.” He dug in his pocket. “Here’s the key. Why don’t you take her out on a joy ride and let me know what you think?”

Fifteen minutes later, Audra returned with the car, and found Kyle and Steve in the office. Kyle rose from his chair. “What’s the verdict?”

“I’ll take it.”

* * * *

The roaring March wind rattled Audra’s bedroom window and whipped the glass with lashes of rain. She closed the blinds and changed into her nightgown. The pink cast sitting on the bookshelf across the room triggered phantom itches on her right arm. With a little laugh, she stopped scratching, slipped into her desk chair, and opened her day planner.

Blue X’s marked off January, February, and half of March’s calendar days. Audra crossed off one more, closed the small book, and stared into space.

“The first year of teaching is the hardest. It gets easier as the years go by.” She’d heard those words a thousand times from older, more experienced teachers. Maybe someday in the distant future it would become easier. But, would it ever become enjoyable? Not likely.

Spring break couldn’t come soon enough.

Edward sat astride his Harley outside the house that Dexter, Stanley, and Zook had moved into a few days before. Not bad. Quiet street, nice neighborhood. He revved the bike, turned the headlight off, and killed the engine.

He strode up the concrete walkway and climbed the wooden steps to the porch where wide-open mini blinds gave full view of the goings-on inside the house. Inside, Stanley and Zook rolled with laughter on the couch, watching a stand-up comedian on TV. Edward rapped on the glass.

Zook waved him in.

Edward slapped each of their upstretched hands as he passed behind the couch.

A short bar with a couple of stools separated the living room from the kitchen. Dexter stood at the stove, stirring a large pot. The smell of chili hooked Edward’s nose and reeled him to the kitchen. He opened a few drawers before finding a spoon. “Smells good. Shove over and let me have a go at that.” He took a scoop, held it over the sink and blew on it for a minute before chancing a taste. “It’s good. Four alarm, at least.”

“Was that your bike I heard revving out there a minute ago?”

Edward dropped the spoon into the sink. “Yeah. I’ve been bumming rides since we came home from Nicaragua. I finally got the beast out of the shop. The guy kept telling me the part he needed was on back-order. I think he was backlogged. It’s been, what, two months now?”

“Sounds about right.”

“I like what you guys did to the place.” Edward gave the room a once-over. “It looks like three bachelors live here. That couch,” he pointed with a flick of his chin, “is it early Salvation Army, or late Goodwill?”

“Someone a couple of streets over threw it out last week. It looked comfortable, so we loaded it into Zook’s pickup and brought it home.”

Edward snorted. “That explains the brick holding up the back corner.”

Greco and Jackson walked through the door with Marcus trailing behind.

“Good,” Dexter said. “Everyone’s here. Let’s eat and get this dog and pony show started. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can christen our new abode with its first poker game.”

Dex ladled chili into bowls and set them out on the counter.

Like vultures on a kill, they each grabbed their share and carted it off to the living room, or to the table on the other side of the bar.

Dexter launched a sleeve of saltines across the room to Stanley before sitting down at the table with his own bowlful of steaming-hot food.

For the next thirty minutes, Edward chowed down on a couple of bowls of chili along with the others while competing comedians entertained them from the big-screen TV in the living room.

* * * *

Edward helped clear the table. A deck of cards appeared, and he started shuffling. “Who’s in?”

“I’m in,” Greco said.

Dexter raised a hand. “In.”

Edward yelled over to Zook and Stanley, “You guys in, or what?”

Stanley got off the couch and turned the TV off. “Zook and I are going out. The clubs are jammed with hot girls on Friday nights. It would be a shame if they didn’t have a couple of good-looking guys to throw themselves at. Catch you later.” They grabbed their jackets and took off.

Jackson came to the table with a tube of Rolaids in hand. He popped two in his mouth, crunched them a few times and smirked at Dexter. “I think I’m going to die. That was like eating lava.” He directed his next comment to the rest of the men. “Did anyone else break out into a sweat eating that stuff?”

Snorts of laugher confirmed the effects of the culinary concoction.

Jackson stretched out on the couch and declined to participate in the card games.

“Now what?” Edward tossed the cards on the table. “Marcus, the holy man, doesn’t play poker, Jackson wimped out, and Stanley and Zook skipped out, leaving three of us to play.”

Marcus, quiet until now, spoke up. “Why don’t we play Spades, y’all?”

“Spades? This was supposed to be poker night.” Dexter frowned.

Edward stared at Marcus. “Spades? What’s next, a rousing hand of crazy eights or go fish? You can’t eat a bowl of Dexter’s death-defying chili, then play a kids’ game. What’s wrong with you?”

Undeterred, Marcus folded his hands on the table and smiled. “Spades requires more strategy than luck. Unlike poker, it engages the mind.”

Dexter stepped behind Marcus and wrapped his forearm around his throat in a playful chokehold. “Nobody disparages poker in my house. Take it back, punk.”

Marcus laughed.

Dexter ran his knuckles across Marcus’s skull a few times before releasing him and taking a seat.

Greco tapped Edward’s arm. “Deal the cards. Spades it is.”

“Guess you’re my partner, LT.” Marcus’s cheesy ear-to-ear smile beamed across the table.

Edward grumbled through his teeth as he passed out the cards. “Spades. What a waste of a Friday night.”

Marcus chuckled.

Edward shot a slit-eyed look at him. “How ’bout next week we all meet at Saint Bingo’s and—”

Greco kicked him under the table. “Shut up and finish dealing.”

Dexter tossed a pad and pen in front of Edward, making him the scorekeeper, fueling Edward’s growing irritation. He puffed out his cheeks and released his breath in a slow, controlled stream. He turned to Greco, on his left, pen in hand. “How many tricks are you taking?”

“Back home we call them ‘books,’” Marcus said with a grin.

Edward sighed. Then, putting on a Southern drawl, he said, “But you ain’t back home now, are ya, Bubba? You might call ’em books in Virginny, but down here, they’s tricks.”

Dexter and Greco laughed.

Marcus’s grin got bigger.

Edward shook his head, but then laughed himself. These guys. They loved to goad him. The nastier, or more sarcastic his response, the more they seemed to enjoy it. When would he ever learn not to be suckered in?

“Okay boss,” Edward said to Greco, “how many tricks are you taking?”

* * * *

Edward tapped the pen on the pad. “Well, Rev, we were ahead, but now we’re behind.”

“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Marcus smiled.

Greco and Dexter laughed, but Edward’s face tightened.

A few rounds later, the score was tied, and it was Edward’s turn again. He rubbed his chin and thumbed through his cards. He couldn’t decide which card to play.

Greco stared at him, his face unreadable. “You gonna sit there all night twiddling your thumbs, Lieutenant, or are you going to throw down a card?”

“I know the ace of diamonds was played, but I don’t remember seeing the king.” He met Marcus’s gaze and shrugged.

“Arise. Go in and possess the land.”

Edward slapped the unbeatable ace of spades down with force, shaking the table. Greco followed with the suit that was led, tossing the king of diamonds on the pile, losing the trick to Edward’s ace.

Marcus and Edward high-fived across the table and hooted with laughter.

Greco shook his head, but then laughed too.

Dexter gathered the cards and shuffled. “I can’t believe you used the Bible to cheat. That’s got to be a sin. Isn’t there a commandment that says, ‘Thou shalt not cheat’?”

Marcus folded his hands on the table and sat up a little straighter. “Speaking of Bible verses.”

Edward’s smile fell to a frown. He leaned back in his chair and let his head fall backwards till he was looking at the ceiling. “Oh no, here it comes.”

“I’d like to invite y’all to church this Sunday. The pastor asked me to preach this week, and I think I have a message worth delivering. It would mean a great deal to me if y’all would come.”

Edward groaned. The invitation required no response. Being asked to go to church was a weekly event if Marcus was around, although this was the first time Marcus mentioned he’d be preaching. But, what difference would it make? Church was church no matter who preached. It was a place where dressed-up people went for a couple hours a week to pretend they were nicer than they actually were. No, thanks.

“You’re preaching?” Greco gave a nod. “Okay, I’ll go. Why not? Besides, I’ll score some points with my wife if I go.”

Edward stiffened. Either the room got suddenly chilly or hell just froze over. He’d never known Greco to darken the doors at church unless someone died.

Slack-jawed, Dexter stared at Greco.

Jackson, who hadn’t made a peep since the card game began, popped off the couch, came to the table, and gawked at Greco with the same look of incredulity as the others.

Even Marcus seemed shocked.

“Quit looking at me as if I just sprouted a second head,” Greco said. He turned to Marcus. “I’ll go out of respect for you, and to represent the team, since it seems important to you. What time do I have to be there?”

“Ten o’clock. Thank you, sir.”

Greco looked up at Jackson. “You want to come with me?”

Indecision blanketed Jackson’s face.

Don’t do it, Jackson. Don’t do it.

Jackson shrugged and opened his mouth. “Okay, I’ll go since you’re going.”

Idiot.

Greco’s gaze fell on Dexter.

“Don’t even think about it.” Dex pushed his chair away from the table.

Greco turned his attention to Edward. “How about you? You want to go with us?”

Edward made no attempt to hide the anger that welled up inside him. He stood to his feet. “I say no every time he asks, which is every single week without fail. Just because he’s preaching doesn’t change anything. I don’t do church. End of conversation.”

Edward put on his jacket. He stopped at the door and turned around. “Thanks for the chili, Dex.”

He made his exit and stood beside his bike for a few minutes, key in hand. He filled his lungs with a deep breath and turned his face to the sky. What made a guy like Marcus tick? No amount of ridicule or insults seemed to make a difference. Telling Marcus he wasn’t interested in anything remotely church-oriented didn’t dampen the man’s resolve one iota.

Footfalls echoed on the porch steps behind Edward. He turned.

Marcus said, “Edward, if you change your mind—”

“Look, I’m not changing my mind.” He stepped a little closer. “Why do you keep hounding me with all your Jesus drivel and church invitations? Clearly, I’m not interested, yet you go on and on as if you didn’t hear me ask you to stop. Why don’t you give up and leave me alone?”

Marcus tipped his head to the side. “I genuinely care about you, Edward.” Marcus pulled his car keys out of his jacket pocket and walked backward a few steps. “That’s why I’ll never give up.”

Edward straddled his bike as Marcus’s taillights vanished into the mist. He put his helmet on and started the bike. “Why would he care?
Pfft
.”

Audra sprang out of bed before dawn. Filled with excitement, she began a mental list of things to do. Call Hank. Iron a few things for work. Make a shopping list. The list grew until she had to transcribe it onto paper.

She devised a plan, snatched a day planner out of her purse, and flipped to the calendar. Three weeks until Easter. She circled the date. Perfect.

Showered and dressed, she sat at her desk and began her day with Bible study and prayer. “Lord, I’m going to invite Edward to our house for Easter. Please soften his heart so that he’ll accept my invitation.”

* * * *

Audra checked the clock in her room. Not too early to start making calls. She dialed.

Hank answered with a groggy, “Hello.”

“Too early?”

“Jet lag. I got home yesterday. Spent a few weeks in Singapore consulting on a demolition job. Body’s still trying to adjust.”

“I’ll keep this short, then. Do you think Edward would come to my house for Easter if I invited him?”

Hank yawned with a roar that made her pull the phone from her ear. “Sorry ’bout that. It came on all of a sudden.”

She laughed. “You nearly blew out my eardrum.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “You were saying? Oh, yeah. Edward for Easter. I guess it’s possible, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”