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She turned away from the monument, from him, and headed for the gate. “I have to get Nita home. I don’t have time for this.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“I’ll drive myself.” Her ruffled hem whipped her knees as she left the cemetery.
He poked around the gravestones for a while, trying to get his head together. He’d offered her something he’d never offered another woman, and she’d tossed it back as if it meant nothing. She kept trying to play quarterback, but she was a lousy leader. Not only didn’t she know how to look out for the team, she couldn’t even look out for herself. Somehow he had to change that, and he didn’t have much time.
Riley dumped a load of paper plates into the trash and returned to sit next to Mrs. Garrison. A lot of people were leaving, but it had been a good party, and Mrs. Garrison had been pretty polite to everybody. Riley knew she was happy that so many people had showed up and talked to her. “Did you notice how nice everybody’s been to you today?” she said, just to make sure.
“They know what side their bread’s buttered on.”
Mrs. Garrison had lipstick on her teeth, but Riley had something on her mind, and she didn’t tell her about it. “Blue explained to me about what’s happening in the town. This is America, and I think you should let people do what they want with their stores and everything.” She paused. “I also think you should start giving free ballet lessons to kids who can’t afford them.”
“Ballet lessons? Who would come? All kids care about nowadays is hip-hop.”
“Some of them would like ballet, too.” She’d met two middle school girls today who were nice, and that had given her the idea.
“You have a lot of opinions about what I should do, but what about what I want you to do? It’s my birthday, and I only asked for one thing.”
Riley wished she’d never brought up the subject. “I can’t sing in public,” she said. “My guitar playing isn’t good enough.”
“Piffle. I gave you all those ballet lessons, and you won’t do one little thing for me.”
“It’s not little!”
“You sing better than any of those hoods in that band. I never heard so much racket in all my life.”
“I’ll sing for you back at your house. Just the two of us.”
“You think I wasn’t scared the first time I danced in public? I was so scared I almost fainted. But I didn’t let that stop me.”
“I don’t have my guitar.”
“They have guitars.” She jabbed her cane toward the band.
“They’re electric.”
“One of them isn’t.”
Riley didn’t think Nita had noticed the lead guitar player trading his electric for an acoustic when they tried to sing Green Day’s “Time of Your Life.” “I can’t borrow somebody else’s guitar. They wouldn’t let me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
To Riley’s horror, Nita pushed herself off the bench and shuffled toward the band. Less than half the crowd was left, mainly families letting their kids play and some teenagers hanging out. Dean came in through the park’s side entrance, and she rushed across the grass to get to him. “Mrs. Garrison’s trying to make me sing. She says it’s her birthday present.”
Dean didn’t like Mrs. Garrison, and she waited for him to get mad, but he seemed to be thinking about something else. “Are you going to do it?”
“No! You know I can’t. A lot of people are still around.”
He looked over her head, like he was trying to find somebody. “Not so many.”
“I can’t sing in front of people.”
“You sing for me and for Mrs. Garrison.”
“That’s different. That was private. I can’t sing in front of strangers.”
Finally, he seemed to be paying attention to her. “You can’t sing in front of strangers, or you won’t sing in front of Jack?”
