ClarenceBN (6 page)

She felt self-conscious standing here in broad daylight with Clarence’s arm around her. What did it matter if someone saw them? Her mom and her sister already knew—or thought they knew—what was going on. Her mom was actually kind of on board with it, too.
 

“He’s a good one,” Mom had said when Tammy had managed to tell her why she wanted Mom to hang out with Mikey. “And good ones are hard to come by.”

“I don’t know that this will go anywhere,” Tammy had replied, feeling her face grow hot. “This is just lunch.”

Her mom—a woman who had raised two daughters by herself and was now helping to raise two grandchildren—a woman who had a firm grasp on exactly how hard ‘good ones’ were to come by—had merely smiled. “Well, you have fun, honey,” she’d said. “Don’t you worry about me and Mikey. We’ll have a good time.”

So Tammy tried not to worry. She leaned her head against Clarence’s shoulder and said, “I’m glad I came, too.”

“Lunch is almost ready,” he said, guiding her toward his house. “Hope you like burgers and fries?”

“That’s fine.” She smiled to herself, a feeling of warm satisfaction. It wasn’t that the meal was fancy—but he’d made it for her.
 

She wasn’t sure what kind of place she expected Clarence to live in. After all, she lived in a pre-fab house that dated back to the 1980s. Most everyone she knew either lived in the same kind of house or in a trailer that was even older.

At first glance, Clarence lived in the same house she did. But upon closer inspection, she noticed important differences. For one, he had an actual lawn—neatly mowed and green, which meant he was watering it. His house was a bright blue color and had shutters—bright white and hanging straight—on the windows. Along the foundation were clumps of black-eyed Susans and coneflowers in full yellow and purple bloom.

Tammy searched her memory, but couldn’t find any recollection of painting her house. Once, she’d tried to plant some flowers around the steps, but they’d died.

“Your place is pretty,” she said, not sure if that was the right thing or not.

“Thanks.” She looked up at him—was he blushing? Maybe ‘pretty’ had been the wrong word. “It’s all those years in the Navy. A place for everything and everything in its place.” He opened the door for her.
 

When was the last time someone had held a door for her? “How long were you in the Navy?” she asked as she walked past him.

“Joined when I was eighteen. They put me through nursing school—there was no way I could have afforded the schooling on my own.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m still in debt from when I attempted college.” As she talked, she looked around. The inside was what one might call sparse—he had a blue couch and a matching recliner, but he didn’t even have a coffee table. Instead, he had a flat-screen TV on a stand that lined up perfectly with the recliner. She could tell from the way the recliner sagged and the couch didn’t that he always sat in the chair. The other thing that was surprising was that the entire wall between the front door and the hallway that lead back to the bedrooms was lined with bookcases—huge bookcases that loomed a solid foot over her head and were neatly lined with all kinds of books. She hadn’t seen so many books in one place since she went to the library at school.

She had never actually seen a flat-screen TV in person before, just on the commercials. They had a regular old tube TV that got most of the channels but lines drifted up the screen on three of the channels. When it went, she didn’t know if they’d be able to get another one.
 

Clarence grinned down at her. “Come on.” He led her through the dining room, which opened into the kitchen. The walls were a bright white without a scuff or crayon mark in sight and the table was nearly completely empty. At home, she didn’t have a flat surface that didn’t attract piles of papers or toys or whatever, but the only thing on Clarence’s table was salt and pepper shakers.
 

It wasn’t that she didn’t try to keep a neat house, but with three adults and two kids—Mikey and Tara’s daughter Nelly—living in the same small house, keeping things this clean was nearly impossible. She was doing good most days if Mikey didn’t add another permanent stain to the carpeting.

“Are you okay?” Clarence asked as he guided her through the kitchen, which was much cleaner than her own, and out the back door onto a tidy little patio, complete with a bistro table set for two with an honest-to-God rose in a little vase.
 

Tammy pulled up. Where had he gotten a rose?
 

“This is lovely,” she said looking at the spread of food all arranged on platters on the table. Fries and burgers, with corn on the cob and grilled peppers. “This is . . .” she almost said ‘too nice for me,’ but she managed to keep that part in her mouth. “Lovely,” she managed to finish.
 

“What would you like to drink? I have some beer, some wine, and lemonade.”

“Lemonade.” Hadn’t that been part of the problem the first time? She and Ezra would go out and get buzzed and wind up in the backseat of his car, too drunk to make sure that the condom was on right. “If you don’t mind.”

“Nope.” Clarence disappeared back into the house, giving her a moment to study her surroundings. His house backed up to a little culvert that was overgrown with scrub trees and the neighboring houses were set off to the side, so she couldn’t see into anyone else’s windows. It was almost like there wasn’t anyone else in the world, just the two of them.

Clarence came back out with two glasses of lemonade and set them down on the table. Then he pulled his chair around so that he was sitting next to her. “Your mom is staying with Mikey?”

“Yes.” She didn’t know if she wanted to mention that Mom thought Clarence was a ‘good one.’ “Tara made herself scarce, so it really wasn’t too much of a problem.”

“That’s good. He’s a good kid,” Clarence said as they ate.

This was fine. Normal. Just making small talk, getting to know each other. She was not nervous discussing what was the biggest mistake and also the biggest blessing of her life with Clarence. Not at all. “Thanks. He’ll be four in a couple of months.” She sighed. “When he was born, my mom told me that the days were long but the years were short and it’s the truth. I can’t believe that it’s been almost four years, but just getting through the day sometimes . . .” She took a long drink, trying to compose her thoughts so that she sounded like a rational woman, instead of one on the verge of dissolving into grateful tears. “I can’t thank you enough for being so nice to him. You’re probably his favorite person in the whole world right now. He doesn’t usually get toys unless it’s his birthday or Christmas.”

“I wasn’t trying to make things harder on you,” Clarence admitted, not looking at her. “I was just trying to keep him occupied for a few minutes.”

A few minutes where he could talk to her.
Kiss
her.
 

They ate in silence. The day was warm without being hot as puffy clouds danced over the blue sky. Little by little, Tammy began to relax. Just lunch. Just two friends. This was not a big deal. It was just Clarence.

Except it wasn’t and she knew it. They both did.

“So,” she said, not wanting to break the comfortable silence but wanting to anyway, “you joined the Navy when you were eighteen?”

“Yup. Graduated high school, shipped out two weeks later. I wanted off this rez so bad,” he said, his voice getting distant. “Funny how I wound up back here.”

She knew the feeling—wanting off and yet not quite being able to go. “Why?”
 

“I missed the place,” he said, leaning back in his chair. She did the same, casually resting her hand on her armrest.

It didn’t stay there for long. Clarence reached over and rested his hand on top of hers. His hand was so much larger than hers was—well, that wasn’t surprising. The man was huge. But what was surprising was the little thrill his touch sent through her body, like a long-forgotten first blush.
 

“After I got my nursing degree, I spent the better part of ten years on aircraft carriers,” he went on, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. “Living packed into tight quarters with all kinds of people, surrounded by water and sky. The sky was the same, but nothing else was. I could have re-upped for another tour, but I wanted to come home.” He turned to her and grinned. “I saw the world, but I missed home. Never thought I would, but I did.”

She’d never even gotten off the rez, except to go grocery shopping. Seeing Rapid City wasn’t really the same thing as seeing the whole world. “And you’ve been working at the Clinic since then?”

“Yup.” He sighed, looking around his place. “This was the house I grew up in. My mom died while I was at sea. I came home, fixed it up, started working at the Clinic. It’s not exactly exciting, but it’s not bad.”

“It’s amazing,” she said. He gave her a look that said he didn’t quite believe her. “I wish . . . I always wanted to get off the rez and see the world.”

“But life happens,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, you could say that. Mikey happened, anyway.” She looked down to where their hands were joined. “This is probably the first time I’ve left him to do something for myself.”

A weird mix of emotions played through her as she said it. She was thrilled she’d done something for herself—but yet, she still felt guilty that she’d left him for something as selfish as a peaceful meal that didn’t involve spills or screaming.

Clarence was watching the sky. Thin clouds scurried over the bright blue sky. “Really? You haven’t even gone out since he was born?”

“No.” Now she just felt ashamed. Who was she going to go out with? There’d been no interest in her, none at all. And truthfully, she hadn’t sought that attention out. Something about being knocked up and dumped made a girl wary. “Not since his father left before he was born.” She’d gained so much weight while she was pregnant and hadn’t managed to lose any of it afterwards. “Not that many men are interested in a—well, in someone like me.”

He appeared to think that over. “Well, most men are idiots.”

She grinned as she felt her cheeks heat up. “This has been really nice. Much better than just a few minutes in the morning.”

He took a drink. “We could do this again.”

The way he said it made it sound like . . . dating. Something that happened regularly. Something that was dependable. “We could.”
 

Clarence squeezed her hand. “Do you want to?”

Want
. A few days ago, he’d whispered in her ear that he wanted her and for an electric second, she wasn’t the single mother of a young boy but a woman who was being chased by a good man who could reduce her to a quivering mass of jelly with a few simple words.

She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. “Did you mean what you said? That you wanted
me
?” She had to force herself to say that last word because it was still so hard for her to believe that anyone would want her. “Because I don’t want to be played again and I won’t let Mikey get played with me.”

Clarence picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “You were played?”

His lips were warm against her palm, which was rapidly heating up other parts of her body. She tried to push the desire down. “I was stupid. I was twenty and I had a decent body and I thought . . .” She’d thought men could be trusted, that love would conquer all and that everything would work out. She’d thought she was smarter than she’d turned out to be.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured—and then he kissed her palm again. “I like your body. I like
you
.”

She couldn’t respond to that because she just didn’t know how. All she could do was sit there as want—need—started to course through her veins.

Once, she’d liked sex. A lot. But she hadn’t had the time to even think about it for the last four years or so, not when she fell into bed in a state of exhaustion every single night.

“You’re twenty-four?” he asked, still holding tight to her hand.

“Yeah.” Some days she felt so old, but she knew there were people in this world who were still in college, still trying to get it figured out. She’d heard the phrase—a quarter-life crisis. At least that was one upside of Mikey—she simply did not have the time for existential self-doubt. She had to make it through each day, one stinking day at a time.

“I’m going to be forty next year.” He announced this as if it were a death sentence he had no desire to carry out. “If that’s too old for you, I’ll understand. Fifteen years is a big gap.”

She looked at him. His gaze was still fastened on the sky, as if he were afraid to look at her—afraid of what she might say.
 

“Why me?”

His head snapped down and he stared at her. “What?”

“Why me? I’m a broke single mother. I live with my mom and my sister—and you know what that means.” He grimaced at the mention of Tara. “You’re good looking, smart, you’ve got a good job and a nice house. You could have your pick of any woman on this rez.” She swallowed. It was the truth, but it didn’t make it any easier to say it. “So why me?”

Was it just because she was an easy target? Available? Or was there something else going on?
 

Please, God, let there be something else
, she prayed.