Tender Mercies Read online

  “That’s hard for me to believe, with all the gourmet food you pro players get to sample.”

  “Nothing competes with a good home-cooked meal.”

  “Yeah, Aunt Lexi,” Andy chimed in. “You make the best tacos.”

  “Glad you like them.” She smiled and drew a sip of sweet tea. She wouldn’t know how the tacos tasted...she’d hardly touched her meal. Her belly squirmed as though it housed a colony of night crawlers. Cooper’s familiar scent—woodsy with just a hint of cherries from the gum he liked to chew—brought back feelings best forgotten. And the fact that she felt anything for him...anything at all after all these years of heartache—the pain he’d caused—confused her.

  Andy’s chair scraped against the tile floor. “I’ll get the football, Cooper, and we can go out back.”

  He shook his head. “Dishes, first, sport.”

  “Dishes?” Andy’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. Lexi knew he was used to rushing off after dinner and leaving her to clean up the mess. And, thankful for the few minutes of peace and quiet before they tangled in a battle over homework, she was usually glad to let him. Well, maybe that would change, at least for tonight.

  “Your Aunt Lexi cooked, sport, so it’s only fair we clean up.”

  “Oh...yeah.” His sail deflated. “I guess.”

  Cooper stood, and his height seemed to fill the small room. “Grab a towel. I’ll wash—you can dry and put away, since you know where it all goes.”

  As Lexi watched their exchange, her belly twisted into a knot.

  When did Cooper start calling Andy “sport,” and how did the two become close enough for it to matter?

  She took her tea to the front porch and slipped into a wicker chair. She eyed chipped, dull white paint that marred the railings and thought with dismay that the wood really needed a good scraping and a fresh coat of latex before the spring rains rotted it. What must Cooper think of her tiny house, with its inexpensive furnishings, after being surrounded for so long by luxury? She lifted her chin to chase away the embarrassment.

  I’ve worked hard for this house, and though it might not be much compared to what Cooper has, it’s mine...and Andy’s now.

  The melody of clinking glass and running water drifted through the open window behind her. She sighed, slipped off her sandals to cross her ankles. To her immense relief, the topic of the Orange and White game hadn’t come up during dinner, but she knew she couldn’t avoid it much longer. After dishes and football, she’d send Cooper home with a quick dismissal, let him know she and Andy would spend tomorrow painting the front porch, not at the football stadium.

  She heard the telephone ring, and Andy’s muffled voice when he answered. A few moments later his tennis shoes slapped across the living room’s polished wood floor. The screen door slammed as he rushed onto the porch and planted himself in front of her.

  “Brody’s on the phone.” The words came in a rush of excitement. “He asked if I could hang out with him tonight. His mom and dad are gonna chaperone laser tag for their youth group and they want me to come.”

  “Mr. Thompson?”

  “Yeah. You met him at the center last week. He’s the youth pastor at Shady Grove. Brody’s in my science class, and he’s gonna play football with me this spring.”

  “Yes, I remember. You guys did that science fair project together a few weeks ago—the one on salamanders.” She’d had to endure a tank of them in the house...and chase after a few that made a jailbreak and took up residence in the blankets on her bed. “I guess it’s...OK. What time will you be home?”

  “I dunno. Not too late, I guess.”

  “Find out, and see how much money you’ll need, OK?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” And he was off like a shot. She heard him convey the good news to Brody, hang up the phone, then tell Cooper if they hurried with the dishes, they’d still have time to throw the ball a bit before Brody arrived.

  Cooper...Lexi cringed. When Andy left, she’d be alone with him. Well, maybe he’d make a quick exit, too. She’d give him a firm no on the Orange and White game and then simply break the news to Andy tomorrow when she slipped a paint brush in his hand instead of a football.

  ****

  “The kitchen is clean.” Cooper came onto the porch and slid into the second wicker chair. He stretched long, powerful legs...legs that dodged three-hundred pound behemoths bent on smashing him into the ground. She’d watched him go down hard more times she could count, just to get up and shake off the pain to run again. But now...

  “Thanks.” She eyed the ridge of scar that ran the length of his knee. “Did it hurt?”

  He gave her an odd look. “Well, I might have a slight case of dishpan hands, but I think I’ll recover.”

  She laughed. “No. I mean, did your knee hurt when you...fell.”

  “When I got crushed and ripped apart? Yeah, it hurt.”

  “I’m sorry.” In the past, she’d have smoothed a finger along the bumpy ridge to massage the pain away. “And now?”

  “Just a dull ache, pretty much all the time. Doc says it’ll go away eventually. I just need to be patient.” He sighed. “Never was my strong suit, though, being patient.”

  “I disagree. I’ve known you to be very patient...at times.”

  “Yeah, when I taught you to swim. Never met a girl going on thirteen who couldn’t swim until I met you.”

  Max chased his tail in a quick circle, sighed and curled his massive form into a ball at Cooper’s feet. Cooper laughed and bent down to run a hand along the dog’s back, give him a good scratch behind the ears. In response, Max grumbled, rolled over, and stretched his paws in the air, exposing himself for a belly scratch, too. The mutt had no modesty whatsoever.

  “I like my feet on the ground, thank-you-very-much.” Lexi gazed at the star-filled sky. The sweet scent of fresh-mowed grass danced with wild onions. “And as I remember it, your ‘teaching’ consisted of tossing me into the pool and dunking me.”

  “And you came up from the water swinging. Knocked me over the head with a kickboard. Gave me a knot the size of an egg. It hurt for three days.” He held up a trio of fingers, for emphasis.

  Lexi laughed. “You deserved it.”

  “But I taught you, didn’t I? No more floundering around like a drowned cat after that.”

  “Yes, you did. I’m proud to say I can hold my own in the water now, and I’ve completed a few triathlons along the way to prove it. But I still prefer to run.”

  “Yeah. Your legs are proof of that.” His gaze slid up and down the length of her calf that peeked from beneath a flowing cotton skirt. “Do you think Thursday’s Child might ever have a pool? You know, swimming is an important skill for kids to have.”

  She lowered her gaze, shrugged. “I’m not sure Thursday’s Child will have open doors, much less the prospect of a pool, come August.”

  “Why?”

  “Money’s tight, and this economy isn’t helping any. Renee and I have racked our brains trying to come up with more ways—better ways—to generate funds. But, let’s face it, when it comes to a choice between putting food on the table and gas in the car, and helping kids who just need a safe place to hang out, the choice of food and gas will always win. People are more cautious with their money. I don’t blame them at all.” She drained her glass, set it on the small white wicker table between their chairs. “Renee and I have both taken pay cuts—twice. And we run the programs as bare-bones as humanly possible. Even so...”

  “And now you have Andy to consider.”

  “Yeah...there’s that, too. I never realized how expensive it is to feed a growing boy, to clothe him when he outgrows jeans and tennis shoes nearly as fast as I can buy them.”

  “Terri doesn’t help?”

  Lexi shook her head. “No.”

  “Your plate is covered up.”

  “I’m not complaining. I love Andy, and I love what I do at the center. The kids are amazing...a real blessing.”

  “I know. It shows in
your eyes when you talk about each one...Anna and Caleb, Lynette and Lucy, Bobby...I feel like I know them all.”

  “You do. You’ve been out there enough lately, helping. The kids love spending time with you and I appreciate it. Really, I do.”

  He rubbed his face and she heard the scratchiness of a five o’clock shadow. “What made you want to do it...open Thursday’s Child?”

  “My dad...something he said just before he died.” She stared out across the front yard, through the weeping willow that veiled the milky halo of a crescent moon. “I remember it like yesterday. He told me, ‘Do something that matters, Lexi. Make a difference with your life.’ So, I brainstormed the best way to use my experience, my counseling degree. Renee and I were both very active working with programs that helped kids, and we knew there was a greater need than any of those programs covered. So I approached her with the idea of Thursday’s Child. She’s great at marketing, and she graduated top of our class in business. She was hooked from the word go. My dad left everything he had to Terri and me. It wasn’t much—the house, some bank CD’s—but it was enough to get things started. Terri grabbed her share, took Andy and high-tailed it to California to chase her dreams. Me, I threw everything I had into my dream—making Thursday’s Child happen.”

  “And you did...make it happen.”

  “For now, yes. But tomorrow...?”

  He reached for her hand, squeezed it gently, and the warmth of his touch, the familiar rough calluses brushing against the tender flesh of her wrist, made her shiver with longing. This was the Cooper she’d fallen in love with—the adventurous, caring boy who’d grown into a strong, gentle and patient man. At least she’d loved him before the lure of the NFL changed him, before money and fame grabbed him with both hands and wrenched him away.

  “Don’t worry, Lex, it’ll all work out.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She didn’t try to hide the bitterness in her voice. What did he know about financial worries? “You don’t have a care in the world when it comes to money.”

  His eyes darkened beneath the moonlight, and shaggy waves of hair tufted beneath a slight breeze. “Maybe so. But, believe it or not, money’s not everything.”

  “Tell that to the kids who show up to the center, come August, to the doors chained shut.”

  “I’m telling you, Lex, it’ll be OK. Trust me.”

  Trust me...

  She shivered, despite the humidity in the star-spattered cloak of darkness. He’d said those words once before...on a warm night much like this...and the end result was nothing less than disaster.

  9

  “Aunt Lexi, wake up!” Andy’s incessant pounding on the bedroom door startled her from a heavy slumber. His voice was muffled through the six-paneled wood. “Guess what?”

  Her mind struggled to wrap itself around the challenge. She moaned and flopped onto her belly, pulling rumpled blankets over her head. “It’s much too early. Go back to bed.”

  The door rattled again as he pummeled it impatiently with a fist. “Cooper called.”

  Cooper...no.

  She lifted her head long enough to glance at the clock. Eight twenty-five...what in the world? Doesn’t anybody sleep in on Saturday morning anymore?

  “Aunt Lexi, come on! Wake up.” He threw open the door and came bounding in with Max at his side. The dog lunged onto the bed and it shook like a ten on the Richter scale, nearly toppling her to the hardwood floor. She grabbed the wrought iron headboard and hung on until the quake eased.

  “Down, Max. Bad dog.” She pushed sleep-tangled hair from her eyes and tried to shove him from the mattress, but it was like trying to move a brick building with a feather duster. He simply settled in the warm blankets, sighed and tucked his head against his massive front paws to stare at her with those huge golden eyes of his.

  “Cooper’s coming to get us in a while.” Andy continued, barely taking a breath. He’d already showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and the T-shirt she’d picked up for him at a clearance sale the last time they’d gone to the mall. The clean scent of soap clung to his skin and his hair was smoothed into damp caramel waves. “We’re gonna hang out and eat lunch at Calhoun’s on the river, then he’s gonna take me to see the Vol’s locker room and the training facilities before we head to the game. Maybe I’ll even get to meet some of the players, ask for a few autographs. Isn’t that cool, Aunt Lexi? I think I’ll take the ball Cooper gave me, just in case.” He paused for a breath, and then cranked things up a notch. Leaning over the bed, he lifted the matted hair that fanned her ear and shouted, “Hey, wake up!”

  She slapped a hand over each ear and cringed as a dull ache began to form at the base of her skull.

  The game. Oh, no.

  She’d told Cooper they weren’t going, hadn’t she? A groan rose from the pit of her belly. No, he’d left last night without either of them mentioning it. They’d been talking about the center…no wonder she forgot. Maybe he did, too. He seemed as caught up in the kids as she was. Or...maybe he’d planned it to play out this way all along.

  Great, just great.

  Andy’s tennis shoes slapped the wood floor as he rounded the bed. She heard a loud swoosh, and then a clatter that sounded as though the house was falling down around her. A burst of stars danced before her eyes.

  “Close the blinds, Andy.” Her eyes burned as cheerful morning sunlight stabbed them and she rubbed furiously when her head began to pound. Beyond the window, an expanse of cerulean blue sky mocked her. Not a cloud...no threat of rain in sight. Not that the threat of rain would matter any to Cooper. He’d played through some of the worst storms imaginable.

  Ugh! She rolled over, buried her head beneath the pillow. Her mouth was dry, and she could use a trip to the bathroom—now. “Give me a minute here. I need to catch my breath.”

  “But you haven’t done anything yet.” Andy jerked the pillow from her head and pressed a mug into her hands. The rich aroma of hazelnut-vanilla urged her blood to flow. “Look, I made you coffee. You like that sweetener, right? The one that comes in little pink packets? I stirred in a couple for you. Taste it.”

  She sat up, sipped, blanched. It was way too sweet, but at least he’d tried. She took another sip, forced a swallow, and glanced over at the dog, who’d buried his nose in her side. “Well, Max, this is a fine start to the weekend.” She reached to scratch his head. “At least you’re sane this morning—kind of.” His tail swept the rumpled blankets as he nudged her hand for more.

  “You gotta get up, Aunt Lexi. Cooper’s coming.”

  “I heard you the first time. And the second. And the fifth.” She pushed back the blankets and stretched kinks from her spine. “I don’t think we should go to the game, Andy. I was planning to paint the porch today. It’s in desperate need of a makeover. The neighbors are going to start leaving complaints in the mailbox.”

  “Cooper said you’d say that. He said you mentioned the porch last night while you two sat out front talking.”

  She scratched her head, smoothed tangles from sleep-matted hair. She didn’t remember that part of their conversation.

  “He’s gonna come over one night next week to help us paint, so we don’t have to do it today. He said he’d talk to you about it, work out the details, when he comes to pick us up.” He lifted the shade on her second window, the one across from her bed. Sunlight reflected off the mirror above her dresser, magnifying in brilliance. The ache crept up the back of her head and across her temples, intensifying. She needed more coffee—not-so-sweet-it-gags-you-coffee—and fast.

  “Oh, he mentioned he likes pasta, so I thought when he comes to help maybe you could make that baked ziti stuff that’s so good. You know—the one you sprinkle with tons of mozzarella cheese and bake in the oven?”

  “Andy—”

  He wrapped fingers around her arm, tugged. Coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug and splattered her pajama top. “Please, Aunt Lexi, get up.”

  “Oh, you win.” She slung her legs over the
edge of the bed and flashed him a death glare. “You just remember this the next time I come to wake you out of a sound sleep for school—or church—and you’re all grumpy and hateful. Payback is sweet, you know, and I’m keeping tabs, buddy.”

  “Fine. But you’d better get moving, unless you’re planning to go to the game in your pajamas. Cooper’ll be here soon.”

  “How soon?”

  She heard a car pull into the driveway, the familiar purr of the Mustang’s high-dollar engine. Her hand tightened on the coffee mug.

  It can’t be...no way.

  Andy rushed to the window. The grin that split his face told all she needed to know. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and rubbed sleep from her eyes, mortified.

  “There he is, just like he promised.” He spun and raced for the doorway. “Hurry, Aunt Lexi. I’m heading outside. We’re gonna pass the pigskin while you get ready.”

  She groaned and reached for her robe. Pass the pigskin...the kid is hooked.

  ****

  Moonlight washed over the front lawn and the Mustang barely came to a stop in the driveway when Andy threw open the rear passenger door and leapt out. Sprinting to the front door, he hollered, “I gotta call Brody. He’ll never believe everything we did today.” He slipped his house key into the lock, pushed open the door. Before he dashed inside, he turned back, his caramel hair like a rich wave of coffee creamer as it rustled in the breeze. “Thanks for letting me go, Aunt Lexi. This has been the most awesome day ever!”

  Cooper grinned and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “And you thought going to the game would be a mistake.”

  She sighed and eased back against the seat. “I’ve never seen him so excited, Cooper. You’ve really made an impression on him.”

  “What about his aunt...did I impress her, too?”

  “No need to impress me. You know that, Cooper. I knew you, became friends with you, when you were just the scrawny new kid on the block.”