Counting on Starlight (5 page)

“No, we’re eating later. Too hot, said my aunt. So I’ve sort of just nibbled.” Her eyes were full of questions. “What’s up?”

“Can we take a short walk?”

“No problem.” Liann exited the house, scraping her hair back with an elastic scrunchie. “I can take you to see the bees if you like. I need to check the feeders on the boxes and let Uncle Bert know if we need to mix more feed.” Her voice had a lilting tone, as if she were teasing him to see if he’d take her up on the offer.

“Okay. Lead the way.” They crossed the front yard, full of Chin Mae’s landscaping handiwork.

“You stay where I can see you!” Chin Mae’s voice rang out. “No hanky-panky.”

“She’s safe with me, ma’am,” Jake replied, laughing as Liann’s face bloomed red.

“You’ll have to excuse her.” Liann stepped carefully over a rocky part of ground hidden  under the grass. “She’s...well... She’s Aunt Chin Mae.”

“She and Aunt Azalea are best friends for a reason.” He squinted, regretting that he’d left his sunglasses in the truck. “They both lack subtlety with those big hearts of theirs.”

“That’s the truth.” Liann stopped at the nearest stacked white boxes. A few bees lingered at the hive opening. She swallowed and hoped her nervousness didn’t show. This was a stupid idea. She took a deep breath and touched Jake’s arm. “Don’t block their flight path. That’s where we get the word ‘beeline.’” She pointed to a lone bee traveling away from the hive. “It’s like an invisible road they travel to collect the pollen. When you get in their way, it makes them nervous, my aunt says.”

“Flight path, huh?” He looked down at her hand, still on his arm. “You sound like an expert.”

Liann shook her head. “Nope, I’m not. I’ve had a crash course, though.” She removed her hand from his arm and looked up at him. “So, you didn’t come to talk about our crazy aunts or bees.”

“No, I came to talk to you about Maddie.” He waited for her response.

Liann moved closer to the hive and studied an inverted honey jar, partially full of what looked like a clear liquid. “I’ll need to fill these tomorrow morning. We'll definitely need more feed.”

“Maddie’s a bright, intelligent girl, but I think she’s a little impulsive sometimes.” Jake walked beside Liann to the next hive. He sure wished she’d quit examining the hives. He wanted to see those dark eyes with laughter inside them.

“You’re right. Maddie’s very smart,” Liann said as she straightened up from  studying the next hive’s feeder. “But when she talked to me about her decision to join color guard, she sounded like she’d thought it through very carefully.”

“She talked to you about it? She must have told you about me wanting her to quit.”

Liann nodded, the sunlight shining off her inky hair. “She was afraid I’d cut her from the squad.”

“Can you?” Jake raised his eyebrows. Seemed like Maddie talked to everybody but him.

“Look, Jake. I’ve already been told that if I don’t make this team work, it’s axed next year. I only have eight girls, and all eight of them are counting on me. They work hard. They’re all learning, including Maddie. I need all of them, every single one.” She bit her lip and looked away from him.

What was it she was keeping from him? What was it that made this seem more than just a sport to her? Something else was at stake inside her. “But...what is it you’re not telling me?”

“You’re a coach, Jake. You specialize in winning. You want only the best, and you keep only the best. Or, you keep those that you think have potential. I get that.” Liann continued to the next hive, and he followed, making sure he stayed out of the sacred flight path. “But some of these girls think they’re the losers. They’re not graceful  enough to be on the dance squad, they’re not athletic enough for the cheerleading squad. They love the music, though. Have you seen the band march and perform, with a full color guard? The guard helps make the music something more. I can’t toss them out because they don’t measure up to perfection.”

“Why does this mean so much to you, personally?”

Liann ambled toward a wooden bench under the shade of an ancient live oak that was probably around during the time of the Alamo. She sat down, as did Jake. The land sloped away from them to the west, and the sun slid toward the horizon.

“You’re right. It does mean something to me.” Liann sighed. “I used to be in color guard my freshman year of high school. Someone made fun of me, made fun of our group, and I realized we probably looked pretty lame, to some. I was embarrassed. So after freshman year, I determined by that fall, I’d make the cheerleading squad. I did. Varsity, as a sophomore. Unheard of, in southern California. I left my old friends behind because I thought I’d gained something with my new status, something they didn’t deserve. Nobody would lump me in with the lame ones anymore.” She fell silent.

He didn’t know what to say, except to think that she was very driven, even back then. “You were young. Kids that age do a lot of things to impress the crowd. I see it all the time.”

“But that doesn’t make it right, then or now. I called myself a Christian, went to church regularly, participated in youth group and missions fund raising. But I never looked at how I treated other people in my push to make the ‘in’ crowd.” Liann looked at him, her dark brown eyes soft. “That’s why I’m not cutting Maddie, or any girl. I can’t ask her to leave, not to please you.”

“I understand that.” He’d seen a few guys come up the ranks, the scrappy guy who wanted to be a linebacker, the klutz who wanted to be a kicker. He’d also felt the pressure as coach. A winning team meant scholarships for boys who might not otherwise have a chance to go to college. There certainly wasn’t much in Starlight to keep kids here, not to make a decent living unless you were military, in business for yourself, were employed by the city or state, or worked for a military contractor.

He’d felt the pressure on both sides—succeed and win, make a difference in their lives. But you couldn’t do that with boys who didn’t have the skills for football and were more legends in their own minds than real players on the field. If he had a winning team this year, it was his ticket to better things than Starlight.

“I’m sorry if that bothers you.” She turned away. “You make your living by winning, not by keeping people who aren’t cutting it.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me, not in this case,” he admitted. “But back to Maddie... I wish she’d understand that every choice she makes has consequences. She shouldn’t lose her focus on her goals. What if she starts slacking off?”

“Wow, you sound like her father, Jake.” Liann chuckled, and the sound made him grit his teeth. Her smile tugged at him, too. “Let the girl breathe. She already told me she’s in the top ten percent of her class. That’s got to count for something.”

“Well, it does. It means she shouldn’t waste her potential.” He regretted the statement as soon as the words fell out of his mouth.

Liann stood. “Waste her potential? So you mean she’s not just wasting her time, but her potential in my class? Wow, and school hasn’t even started yet.” She hopped off the bench and started back toward the house, her legs moving at a brisk pace.

He caught up with her easily enough. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

She stopped by his truck and whirled to face him. “Then what did you mean?”

Jake felt the beginnings of a stammer on his lips, something that didn’t happen often, and he closed his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Liann backed away, toward the house. “If you have any questions about Maddie’s progress in my class, call me at the office after school starts. We’ll be extremely busy in color guard, working hard...and wasting our time.”

Chapter 5

The kitchen door banged shut behind Liann, and she flinched. “Sorry!”

“You buying us a new door?” Aunt Chin Mae stood at the counter mixing up more kimchi. A pile of fresh vegetables, sliced and diced finely, made a rainbow of color on the cutting board.

“No.” Liann took a deep breath and went to the fridge for a bottled water.

“Trouble with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s... I’ve only known him a week, Aunt Chin Mae. ” Liann held back, not wanting to spew all the adjectives she wanted to tag him with.
Rude, pompous, condescending, control freak.

“A week’s long enough for me to see you two got something, maybe.”

“I don’t know about that. We sort of disagree right now about his sister.” She unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and took a sip.

“Well, your uncle and I disagree about football teams. Always will. I can’t stand those Dallas Cowboys.” Her aunt shook her head.

“You’ll come around, eventually,” Uncle Bert called from the living room.

“Silly man!” Aunt Chin Mae shook a spatula in his direction. “It’s been over thirty years. I’m not liking any Cowboys. I still like Patriots.”

“They’re not Texan.” Uncle Bert huffed.

“I know. I like the name, Patriots. Men who love their country. Plus Tom Brady is cute.”

“You two...” Liann laughed in spite of her thundercloud mood. She didn’t want to say that disagreeing about a football team was entirely different from her disagreement with Jake. His words stung and smarted on her heart even now. In spite of his occasional flickers of borderline arrogance, she found him charming. However, she’d canceled a wedding two months ago. Even if  she and Jake agreed about Maddie, she wasn’t ready to jump into anything just yet. Also, he was probably only interested in her right now because she was his sister’s teacher.

Her aunt scooped the vegetables into a mammoth plastic bowl and stirred the contents. “Come taste the kimchi.”

“I don’t like kimchi.” Liann tried not to make a face at the mixture of pickled vegetables in a pungent brine. Her mother ate the stuff three times a day.

“You need to try it. What kind your mother make?”

“Cabbage.” Now Liann did make a face.

“Ahh, I see.” Aunt Chin Mae nodded. “You need to try different kimchi. This is cabbage, but I put radish and carrot in too. It’s sweeter. Here.” She picked up a clean spoon.

“I’ll try it once.” Liann thought of something tastier, like chocolate pie, anything chocolate, and put the bite in her mouth. She tasted the heat and spice from the red pepper, the garlic and ginger. Then came a sweetness from the radish and carrot.

“So?”

“It’s... It’s good.” She peeked at the bowl. “There’s broccoli in it too?”

“A little bit of everything.” Aunt Chin Mae beamed. “See? You already discovering more about yourself. Coming to Texas is not a waste after all.”

Liann laughed. “No, I guess not. My mother has been trying to get me to eat it for years.”

“Now I get you some rice and another scoop of kimchi. You can take it to your room. Or I can heat up a frozen dinner.” Aunt Chin Mae and Uncle Bert had a selection of frozen dinners to rival any grocer’s freezer. “But kimchi’s better for your digestive system. Keeps you cleansed.”

“Thanks, Aunt Chin Mae, but no. I might get something later. I’m going to head to my room and relax.” She needed to shower then check her email.

“You need to find some friends here,” said Aunt Chin Mae. “You need to get out of the house, do something. Every night it’s the same. You come home, eat, then go to sleep.”

“I’ll find some friends. Don’t worry about me. This is our busy season,” Liann admitted. “Then next week it’s nine-to-nine camp where we work the kids every day. We need to be ready for the opening game of the season in two weeks.”

Uncle Bert entered the kitchen and stopped at the stove. “I got us season tickets, Mae.”

“I don’t know if I want to sit on metal bleachers for three hours every Friday night. What if it rains?”

“Honey, we can wear rain ponchos. They’ll stop the game if there’s lightning.” Uncle Bert looked at Liann and winked. “Right, Li?”

“A little rain won’t hurt anyone.” She grinned back at him. “I’ll holler at you all before I turn in for the night.”

“You take care now.” Uncle Bert waved.

Liann carried her bottle of water across to the two-story garage. Her uncle had converted the second floor to a mini apartment that they rented out sometimes or opened for ministers who visited their church. Already, she felt like she could breathe a little easier.

She pounded up the stairs and felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the number before entering the apartment. Jake. She ignored the call. She wasn’t ready to talk to him, yet, although she knew eventually they would. A blast of cool air hit her as she opened the door. She’d turned the thermostat on the A/C up to 80, which still felt cool compared to outside.

Liann sank onto the loveseat, leaned toward the coffee table, and turned on her laptop computer. Six months ago, she never imagined she’d be here. Texas. No wedding. A part-time job doing color guard that had her working sixty hours a week. And a new job helping with the bees. Again, the questions—no, prayer—ringing in her mind.
Lord, what’s going on? Did I make this decision in haste?

Her phone buzzed again.
Matt
. She’d been avoiding him long enough after the confrontation that sent her packing, literally. She pushed the button. “Hi, Matt.”