Bright Eyes (4 page)

“My mom says lady singers have to make it big really young,” Chad explained. “Before their boobs start to sag and their butts get big. She’s got cellulite dimples on her thighs.”

That was more than Zeke wanted or needed to know. He pushed up from the table, gathered the dishes, and went to put them in the sink. As he scrubbed smears of egg yolk from the plates and utensils, visions of Natalie Patterson’s thighs flashed through his mind. Definitely not fat, and if they were dimpled, he hadn’t noticed.

“You ready to hit it?” he asked after loading the dishwasher.

“Do I, like, have a choice?”

“No.”

Five minutes later, Zeke had Chad lined out for the morning, washing tomato pulp off the siding. The boy worked at tortoise speed, spending more time wiping the sweat from his brow than he did scrubbing.

“Kick it in the butt,” Zeke called as he wielded the rake, gathering destroyed garden plants into piles. “You owe me a hundred and forty hours of hard work. If you slough off, I won’t give you credit for the time.”

Chad sent him a smoldering look. “I’m working.”

“You’re piddling.” Zeke tossed a pile of rubbish into the wheelbarrow. “If you haven’t paid off the debt by the time school starts, I’ll work you weekends and evenings after school. No sports, no girls, no fun. Choose your poison.”

Chad began scrubbing with more enthusiasm. When they’d worked for two hours, Zeke called for a break. They sat in the shade of an oak tree at the edge of the yard and drank nearly a half gallon of ice tea.

“So, seriously, why don’t you have a wife?” Chad asked.

“Don’t want one.”

“Why not?”

Zeke considered the question for a moment. The answer was that he liked being single, but he settled for saying, “Because.”

“Like that’s an answer?” Chad gestured with his glass. “Why have a garden with no one but you to eat the stuff?”

“I like being the only one to eat the stuff.” Zeke pushed to his feet. “The game of twenty questions is over. Back to work.”

Chad resumed the task of washing the house while Zeke piled debris into the wheelbarrow and made countless trips to the compost heap. When he’d almost cleared away the mess, Chad tossed the scrub brush into the bucket and turned with a mutinous expression on his face.

“How come I have to work a hundred and forty hours? Once the work’s all done, seems to me my debt should be paid.”

Zeke forked up some wilted tomato plants and broken cornstalks. “You’re forgetting the cost of the damages. New windows, exterior paint, and wood don’t come cheap, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

Zeke straightened and flexed a kink from his shoulder. “True. If you were, you’d have some manners and a better work ethic.” He inclined his head at the stained siding. “You’d also have some respect for other people’s property. I figured your hours at minimum wage, which is more than you’re probably worth, and I shaved off some time, to boot. It’s going to cost me a thousand dollars or more to put things right. If you think I’m being unfair, figure it out for yourself, but do it on your own time.”

Zeke no sooner finished speaking than he glimpsed a flash of blue at the corner of the cream-colored shop, a cavernous metal building that did triple duty as a garage, work area, and storage room. He turned to see Natalie Patterson stepping into the backyard. Today she looked completely different, more the cute and adorable girl next door than a sexy vamp, her dark hair caught in a clasp at the back of her head, her oval face devoid of makeup. She wore faded jeans and a man’s white shirt, the sleeves rolled back to her elbows. The stiletto heels of yesterday had been replaced with smudged sneakers.

“Hi,” she said.

Zeke wanted to whistle and say, “Wow.” Instead, he laced his voice with studied indifference and said, “Hello.”

She glanced around, taking in the mess. “I, um, thought I’d come over and help.” Her smile was stiff. “Two for the price of one. This way, the work will get done faster.”

And Chad would be able to go to camp. Zeke bit down hard on his back teeth. No way was he backing down on this. The kid had done the damage, and he would pay the debt.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Zeke asked.

She stared at him for a long, loaded second before nodding her assent. Zeke led the way to the gravel parking area in front of the shop. When they were beyond Chad’s earshot, he turned, settled his hands at his hips, and locked gazes with her.

“I told you last night, I don’t think this is a wise idea,” he said softly.

She blinked, managing to look both innocent and sexy at once. “You don’t think what is a wise idea?”

“You coming over here to help.”

“Why not?”

“Because the boy needs to be taught a lesson.”

Two bright spots of color flagged her delicate cheekbones. Her lovely brown eyes flashed with anger. In that moment, Zeke was convinced that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.

“Excuse me? Chad is my son. As long as you receive recompense for the damages, I fail to see how his upbringing is any of your concern.”

She had a point, but Zeke chose to ignore it. “Chad is the one who vandalized my property. He should be the one to make restitution. I made my position on that clear.”

“True, but you were mad. I hoped you’d be reasonable this morning.”

“I’m being perfectly reasonable.”

“There are a number of things happening in Chad’s life right now that you don’t understand.”

“I understand that he’s too old to be mollycoddled and let off easy.”

“I’m not asking you to let him off easy. I’m asking only that you work with me and be fair.”

“By doing the repairs myself, I’m shaving off at least five hundred dollars in labor, and I cut him some slack on the hours. That’s fair. You can’t say it’s not.”

“My son is going through a
very
difficult time.”

“We all go through difficult times. That doesn’t give us license to destroy other people’s property.”

“Who’s going to supervise him for three and a half weeks? Don’t you have a job?”

“I own a ranch-supply store. I’ll juggle the schedule, do the ordering and books at night. I’ll be here to monitor him.”

Her cheeks grew even redder. “I still fail to see how my helping would be a bad thing. Your place will be put back to rights more quickly that way.”

“And Chad will get to go to camp?”

Her eyes sparked with indignation. “You’re overstepping your bounds, Mr. Coulter. Whether or not my son goes to camp is none of your business.”

“Wrong. It became my business when he threw the first tomato.” When she started to speak again, Zeke held up a staying hand. “I’ve stated my terms. If you don’t like them, we can always let Chad’s punishment be decided in juvenile court. Is that what you want?”

At the threat, her face drained of color. “You know it isn’t.”

“Then leave it alone. It won’t kill Chad to work off the debt by himself, and he’ll learn a valuable lesson while he’s at it. If this isn’t nipped in the bud now, what’ll he do next, rob a convenience store?”

“Don’t be absurd! He was just acting out to get attention.”

She obviously hadn’t been around many teenage boys. If Chad continued on his present course, she would have no control over him in another few years. “Mission accomplished. He definitely has mine.”

“Oh, how I wish I had a thousand dollars. I’d pay you off so fast it’d make your head swim! If you’re so keen to raise kids, have some of your own.”

“It takes a village. You ever read that book?”

Arms rigid at her sides, she gathered her hands into fists. Zeke had a bad feeling that she yearned to punch him. “You’re insufferable.”

She whirled and stalked away. After taking several steps, she turned back to scorch him with another fiery glare. “Everything else in his world has been taken away—his home, his school, his friends, even his father. Going to camp was the only familiar thing left, and now you’re taking that away from him, too.”

Natalie was so furious when she got home that she slammed the door as she entered the kitchen. Still in her nightshirt, Valerie was at the stove, pouring a cup of coffee from the dented aluminum pot that had served the Westfield family for generations. Dark hair in a lopsided topknot, eyelids smudged with mascara, and mouth still stained red from last night’s dress-up lipstick, she looked like a hooker who’d put in a hard night.

“What’re you in a snit about?” she asked with a huge yawn.

Huffing from the walk across the field, Natalie stepped to the cupboard to get a clean coffee mug. “That
man.
”

“What man?” Valerie lifted her eyebrows. “If he’s under forty and halfway cute, give me five minutes to grab a shower and I’ll take him off your hands.”

“Is sex all you ever think about?”

Valerie shrugged and smiled. “Getting laid is fun. Maybe if you tried it occasionally, you’d be less acerbic.”

Natalie heaped a spoon with sugar and stirred it into her coffee. “I bypassed acerbic and went straight to royally pissed off. He is such a jerk.”

“He, who?”

“Zeke Coulter.” Natalie went to sit at the battered wood table, which had been painted with light gray enamel in the sixties, had gotten chipped over the years, and was now a mottled mess, with previous layers of paint showing through. Pop refused to get a new dinette set because this one was still serviceable. Natalie waffled between wanting to strip it down to the original wood and wanting to take a hacksaw to one leg. “I went over to help Chad with the work, and he refused to let me stay.”

“Why?” Taking care not to spill her coffee, Valerie sat down and crossed her legs, displaying slender thighs tanned to a smooth butternut. “Seems to me he’d be happy to get the repairs done faster.”

“Oh, no. He’s convinced I’m mollycoddling Chad. Says he needs to learn a lesson. Like it’s any of his business how I raise my son? What is it with men, anyway? I’ve never met one yet who didn’t think he was lord of the universe.”

Bright-eyed and smiling, Gramps entered the kitchen just then. Up since five, he had already finished reading the
Portland Oregonian
and was eager to start watching television. “What’s that you say? Your universal joint went out?” House shoes flapping, he gimped over to the stove to refill his coffee cup. “That’ll cost a pretty penny. Too bad your daddy’s back is messed up. He could put it on the hoist and have it repaired in nothin’ flat. How’d you get home last night? Frank drive you?”

Valerie sighed, looking like a disgruntled raccoon with the smears of black ringing her eyes. “Her car’s fine, Gramps. We were talking about men.”

Gramps harrumphed and came to sit at the table. “Is that all you ever think about, girl? You only broke up with Keith a few days ago.”

“Kevin,” Valerie corrected, “and it’s been two weeks.”

Gramps shook his head. “If he’s a geek, why’d you move in with him?”

Natalie took a sip of coffee to hide her grin.

Raising her voice to a near yell, Valerie said, “Turn on your hearing aid! I didn’t say he was a geek. I said we’ve been broken up for two weeks!”

Gramps fiddled with the outdated hearing aid and winced when the increase in volume made the device squeal. “Damned thing.”

“You need a new one,” Natalie inserted. “Medicare would probably help pay for it.”

“That’s the problem with you young people. Every durned thing has to be brand spankin’ new. Like as if old is worthless? This hearin’ aid was good enough for yer grandma, by God, and it’s good enough for me.” When he had the hearing aid adjusted to suit him, he turned questioning blue eyes on Natalie. “So what’s this about your universal joint?”

“My car is fine. I was just grumping about men.”

Gramps reached over to pat Natalie’s arm. “Stop frettin’, honey. Ye’re well rid of that bastard.”

“She’s not stewing over Robert. It’s Zeke Coulter next door who’s got her dander up today.” Valerie cupped her mug in her hands and took a noisy sip of coffee. “She went over to help Chad do the repairs, and Coulter sent her home.”

“Why’d he do that?” Natalie’s father asked as he entered the kitchen. “Seems like he’d appreciate the help.”

Natalie recounted the conversation that she’d had with Zeke Coulter. Just as she finished talking, Rosie joined them at the table. “Little ears,” Natalie said to the adults as she gathered the sleepy child onto her lap.

Neither Gramps nor Pop took the hint, and a heated debate ensued. Gramps wanted to go over and show Zeke Coulter how the cow ate the cabbage, an old-timer’s way of saying he wanted to kick their neighbor’s ass. Pop vetoed that idea by telling the Chihuahua joke again. Gramps took exception. Before Natalie knew it, the exchange had escalated into an argument.

“Do you have to do this?” she cried. “Why can’t anyone in this family discuss something without yelling and getting in a fight? You’re upsetting Rosie.”

Both her father and grandfather fell silent. Then Pop asked, “Are we upsetting you, Rosebud?”

Rosie lifted her face from Natalie’s bosom. “Nope.”

Pop nodded. “There, you see?
She
understands the difference between yelling and merely raising our voices to make a point.”

Getting an honest day’s work out of a resentful kid was more difficult than Zeke had expected. Chad scrubbed half-heartedly at the house, leaving smears of tomato pulp in his wake. At first, Zeke pointed out places the boy had missed. But along toward noon, he decided to just let him go. There was no time like the present for Chad to learn that the hours spent doing a half-ass job wouldn’t count against his debt.

At twelve sharp, Zeke leaned the rake and pitchfork against the shed and told Chad it was time for lunch. As Chad broke off from work, Zeke suggested that they drive into town and eat at McDonald’s, which brightened the boy’s mood considerably.

“We need paint, some one-by-fours to fix the door, and I need to order the window glass,” Zeke explained as they walked to the truck. “May as well eat while we’re running errands.”

En route to Crystal Falls, Chad slumped against the passenger door. To break the silence, Zeke turned on the stereo. His favorite CD, the latest by Garth, began to play, filling the cab with the star’s honeyed voice as he belted out ballads about hopes and dreams realized—and loves of a lifetime lost.