Lights Out (28 page)

“You two make a really attractive couple,” Trudy added.

“We’re not a couple, and we are not married,” Joe said with a little more force than he’d intended.

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry,” Trudy said, taking in Piper’s uncomfortable silence. “Sorry. I’d better go check on the children,” Trudy said and quickly walked away.

The kids kept coming over for drinks. Heather and Stan walked up to their table a few moments later, reaching for a drink. Most of the kids had gone back to dancing by then.

“Hey, you two,” Stan called out in greeting.

“We’re not married,” Piper said, pleasantly, with a smile.

“Okay…” Stan said, looking between the two of them and then over at his wife, confused.

Joe turned to look at Piper, taking in the stone-like set of her face. Why the anger? What did he say that was so wrong? They weren’t married. Just friends, last time he’d checked. Mr. Marshall walked to them, dressed in a nice suit and tie.

“You look awe inspiring,” he said to Piper. “Oh, hello, Joe. Didn’t see you standing there,” he added, continuing to smile at Piper.

Sure you didn’t, Joe thought, viewing the appreciation on the teacher’s face.

“I’m not married,” Piper said, and Mr. Marshall laughed. She joined in.

“Would you like to dance then, single woman?” he said.

“Love to,” she said, putting her hand in his.

Joe watched them walk away, noting the disappointed glances from Heather and Stan before they joined Piper and Mr. Marshall on the dance floor. Okay, that hadn’t been his finest hour. He sighed. Piper didn’t come back to the table after that, so he didn’t get his chance to apologize. She was avoiding him now. He could tell, and it was so unlike her. He was smart enough to recognize that he overreacted to the marriage question.

He’d guessed from the outside it might appear that they were connected, maybe even married or living together. Their lives had become intertwined. He’d come to depend on her, and he loved the physical aspect of their relationship.

He hadn’t been aware of when it started, before Thanksgiving maybe, the whole sense of family he’d felt when all of them were together. Christmas had been nice, too. All five of them. But it wasn’t marriage, or a true family. Her sisters would be leaving at some point, anyway. Would what they had last?

He liked her; admired her, really. She was the closest he’d gotten to anyone other than Reye, not since he had given his heart long ago. And that had so not worked out. Would that be so bad, Joe? he asked himself then, forcing himself to give some thought to the question of marriage.

He was surprised that the idea didn’t elicit the red flags that it used to. He hadn’t given any thought to anyone seriously since Amy.

Amy. He thought back to his high school days. It felt like ages ago; hell, it was ages ago. He’d wanted to marry her. She’d gotten pregnant. He thought she wanted home and hearth. He was ready to skip college, work, make a life for them, but nope, it wasn’t his kid. She’d wanted home and hearth with someone else.

Piper was not Amy, but this was still uncharted territory and he didn’t know the answer to what he’d wanted ultimately with her. Seven months ago, the answer would have been an emphatic no, but he didn’t know what he wanted now. Was this love?

* * *

Joe parked in front in Piper’s drive. He’d returned from delivering all three kids to a party, fulfilling a promise he’d made to her before their dance dispute, before she’d gotten her feelings hurt, before she’d started with the terse answers to all of his questions. He’d stopped by an hour ago for the pick-up and she’d been cool when he and Shane reached her front door.

He’d tried the teasing route. “We’re not married,” he’d said, chuckling, thinking he was funny. Not a good idea. She didn’t appreciate his attempt at humor. At all. The go to hell look she gave him was proof.

So here he was, back at her home, tramping back to her front door. In two hours he’d have to head back to pick up the children. He rang the doorbell, which set off McKenzie and Pepper. He could see her stalking toward the door. She opened it and stood there, looking at him, a question in her eyes, a frown on her face.

“Forget something?” she asked.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, turning and walking back to the kitchen. Music was playing. It wouldn’t be Piper’s if music wasn’t playing. She wore one of those long, floor-length skirts in some soft material, a wife beater on top, with the blue Lights Out logo stitched on the front of it.

He caught her before she entered the kitchen and forced her to turn around.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Her head tilted back to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I was surprised, caught off guard, that’s all. It’s not that I don’t want to marry you. It’s that I don’t want to marry anyone, at least not now, and I thought we’d agreed to be friends, anyway. Did something change here and I missed it?”

“No. Nothing’s changed. It just bothered me that you were so adamant in your denials. Is it such a stretch that you could be married to me?”

“No, it’s not a stretch at all. You’re a great woman. You’re going to make someone a great wife. Anyone would want to marry you.”

“But not you?”

“I don’t know,” he said and sighed. “Honestly, this is the first I’ve given it any thought. A few months ago it would have been no for sure. I’m still no, but not as absolute.”

“Ouch,” she said.

“I’m sorry, just trying to be honest here. We agreed to be friends. We are, and sex with you is amazing, but I didn’t sign up for more. Told you that at the beginning, remember,” he said.

“Ouch again,” she said, quiet for a moment. “You’re right,” she added, looking away from him. He was still holding on to her arms.

“So are we okay with where we are? If it’s too much, we can find another alternative,” he said, giving her a small shake, bringing her eyes back to him. “I like you, Piper. I like what we have here. I like that Shane loves being here. But if it’s getting to be more than we can handle, just say so. We can find another alternative.”

Well, can you handle it? she asked herself.

“No, I’m cool with this,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good then. Come here,” he said and he pulled her to him.

Last week of February

Piper was standing in the kitchen at her shop when her phone rang.

“Hey, Margarite,” she said.

“Hello, dear. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I’m at the shop, standing in the kitchen, trying to decide on my next chore. How are you and the girls getting along?” Piper asked.

“Blair’s heavy into basketball, school, and clubs, and Samantha appears to be getting serious with that boyfriend of hers—much as I wish she’d take her time. Tell me about you. How are the girls?”

“They’re doing well. Christina and Mac are together again. I’m glad for them. Her mother is in the final stages. They don’t expect her to be around much longer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad she was able to see her mother. Sometimes we don’t have the chance to tell those that mean the most to us how we feel about them.”

“I agree. So in case I forget, I love you, Margarite.” They both laughed.

“So…tell me about Joe,” Margarite said.

“Joe?”

“There are no secrets between the Knight sisters. Your Taylor told Samantha that she suspects you and Joe have a ‘hook-up’ thing working.”

Piper laughed to cover her horror at her suspected love life being batted about on Facebook, even if it was within the confines of their private group. And what did Taylor know about hook-ups anyway?

“Oh.”

“Is this serious?”

“No, not at all. We’re friends,” she said.

“Could it be?”

“Probably not.”

“Do you want it to be?”

“I wouldn’t mind, but he would,” she said, giving a small laugh, hoping to camouflage her feelings.

“I see…if you want to talk, I’m still a good listener,” she said.

“I know. You’ve listened to my boyfriend problems before. He’s a nice guy. It’s taken a while to get to know him, but he’s a keeper. He’s a great uncle, takes care of his nephew, helps me and the girls. I’m okay with where we are, and yes, I do want more, but you know men. They don’t move where they don’t want to go,” she said, glad to get that out, to be able to say that to someone else.

“So what do you want to do?”

“Be here,” she said.

“And you know what that might bring for you?”

Piper laughed. “You mean heartache, hurt feelings, loneliness? Yes, I understand,” she said, giving in to laughter so as not to cry.

“You never know unless you try, and yes, the outcome may not be what you want, but what if it is?”

“I know, and we’ll see. So what did we decide to do for spring break?”

“The usual. Going to the beach, I think,” Margarite said.

They talked a few minutes more about their lives.

Piper stood in the spot for a few seconds thinking after she hung up with Margarite, appreciative of her stepmother’s call, glad for someone to talk to about Joe. She’d pretended with Joe that she was okay with them, that it didn’t matter, but it did.

* * *

Meghan Johnson, formerly Meghan Sandborne, sat with her husband of one year in the church’s office. It was lunch. She’d come over to talk to him. He was always a calming influence on her. Aaron Johnson was tall with skin the color of coal. He was thin to the point of being skeletal, but he had seen her at her weakest, had stayed with her, helped her work the program, and listened more than he talked as she took back her life one day at a time. And then he married her.

“What brings you by?” he said, sitting at his desk. He was working on Sunday’s sermon.

“Just wanted to talk. Feeling anxious,” she said.

“About?”

“Shane. Joe. Wondering if I should contact a lawyer? You know, discuss my chances for getting custody of Shane.”

“I thought you were going to talk to Joe first.”

“But I know Joe. He won’t believe me. He won’t forgive. I know him,” she said, taking the seat in front of the desk and reaching for his hands. He rose from his desk and walked around to take the seat next to her, knowing that he needed to listen.

She sighed. “I’m scared,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “What if it turns into a battle?”

“You can’t control any of that,” he said, squeezing her hand in assurance.

She sighed again. “No,” she said. “I can’t.”

“He may surprise you. Give it over to God. We aren’t in control of it anyway. What is the third step?”

“Make a decision to turn our will and our lives over to a higher being.”

“Why don’t we call Joe?”

“Now?”

“Do you want to wait?”

“No, now is fine,” she said, pulling out her cell. She’d programmed the number in long ago, right after she’d returned to Austin, not sure when she’d be ready for this. Now worked. It was as good a time as any.

* * *

Joe checked his schedule, overjoyed that his plans for the day had changed. Some time had been freed up, just in time for lunch. He was glad that he and Piper had finally moved beyond the whole love question. He’d been worried there for a while, not sure what to do about her, recognizing that she’d come to mean more than he’d acknowledged. He was still working to figure it all out. He was glad she’d returned to normal in her behavior toward him. He punched in her cell number. It had been a while. He had been unreasonably busy, and beyond their nightly groping in the pantry when he’d come to pick up Shane he hadn’t had time for much else.

“So what are you doing for lunch?” he asked her, laughter in his voice.

“What are you doing for lunch?’ she repeated his question, laughter in hers, too, a sound he loved to hear.

“I was thinking about taking you for lunch,” he said, and again he was rewarded with her laughter.

“Where would you be taking me?”

“Your home, of course.”

“I’m not really all that hungry,” she said.

He laughed again. “Yeah, you are.”

“So sure, are you?”

“Yes. Where are you now?” he asked.

“Home, actually. And now I guess I’m waiting for my lunch to be delivered,” she said.

“Well, today is your lucky day. It’s on the way. See you in a few,” he said and hung up, checking his phone. Someone had called but he hadn’t clicked over.

He didn’t recognize the number, but hit the button to listen to the voicemail message. The air left his body. His stomach sank.

“Hey, Joe,” she said, her voice soft and upbeat. “It’s Meghan, your sister.” Her voice became more tentative now. “I would like to talk to you, to see you. I got your number from Franklin Jones, your old foster parent. I’m sorry I didn’t know his wife passed. That must have been hard for you. I’m living here now, in Austin, married, even…and clean. He could hear her a take a fortifying breath before her next sentence. “I want to talk to you, Joe…about me and about Shane. You can reach me at this number,” she said, pausing again. “Hope to hear from you soon.” Then it went quiet.