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Tracy’s face tightens at this question.
The coach blinks. “Well, I mean. – You need to have some relation to the kids.”
This is Tracy’s son and I’ve already taken so many liberties with her. And getting involved in her life is one thing, but getting involved in her son’s life is a completely different thing. I glance at her, wondering what she’s thinking.
Then she says, abruptly, “We’ll let you know.”
The coach glances between us and then shrugs. “Let me know within a month’s time.”
As he walks away, Max asks, disappointed, “Why didn’t you say yes, Duke?”
It’s Tracy who responds, holding out her arms. “Come here.” She helps him down. “Let’s go eat something and then we’ll talk about it.”
Max hesitates then he skips ahead and we follow him.
“Why didn’t you say no?” I ask, quietly.
“Why didn’t you?” she counters, calmly.
I have no response.
We’re nearly at the car before I touch her wrist lightly, making her pause. I wait for her to turn and look at me. “l don’t want to involve myself in your son’s life until you are completely okay with it. I mean, we will be neighbors and all but I don’t want to make you feel like I’m overstepping my bounds.”
Tracy studies me and then she says, seriously, “I like you, Duke. I don’t understand our friendship but you seem to be a decent man.” Her tone falters. “…I haven’t met many of those in my life.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard an ex-con be described as a decent man. I don’t say anything but I feel uneasy. I feel like I’m deceiving Tracy.
4
Tracy’s hours are back to normal.
Although, calling the graveyard shift, normal, is a bit of a stretch. But I still show up like clockwork.
Tracy now knows my regular order.
“Don’t you have a daytime job?” she asks a week later as she puts a glass of lemonade in front of me.
I stare down at the glass and then look up, confused. “I ordered coffee.”
“Well, you’re getting lemonade,” she tells me, sternly. “It’s healthier.”
I rest my chin on my palm and grin. “It’s so hot when you order me around.”
She gives me a bland look but she can’t hide the redness of her ears. “Eat and go home. Don’t you have to sleep?”
“I did sleep,” I reassure her. “I’m the kind who naps. I can fall asleep anywhere.”
“That’s hardly something to be proud of.” Her lips aren’t twitching and she’s struggling not to smile.
I feel a hint of satisfaction. “Is your boss still bothering you?” I ask.
Something dark flickers in Tracy’s eyes before she smiles and lies through her teeth, “No.”
I watch her. “You really need to work on your poker face, you know.”
She frowns. “You don’t have to worry about it. I can handle Paul.”
“I have no doubt of that but still, what did he do?” I persist. When she looks reluctant to share, I say. “Tracy, you don’t talk to Kendall about these things because you don’t want to worry her. You gotta talk to somebody.”
