After All These Years (8 page)

Dot tapped the page with a long, pointed pink fingernail. “That's one
z
, two
l
s. Let's see. That would have been about four years ago.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged her hot pink padded shoulders. “Most people thought Nicole was nuts to let Brady slip through her fingers. I, on the other hand, imagine he just didn't have what it took to keep her happy.”

A movement caught Tony's eye beyond Dot. Uh-oh. Izzy was making her way through the picnic shelter. She stopped for a moment to talk to someone, but she kept glancing in his direction. The shelter's yellow lights cast a muted glow on the subtle deep red tones of her thick hair. The chin in her heart-shaped face appeared more pointed and determined than usual.

He surreptitiously closed the notebook and slid it into the inside pocket of his lightweight sport coat. “Until this article comes out, Dot, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep the specifics of our talk here confidential.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Yeah, right.
He swallowed the laughter that threatened to burst and hid his face by searching his pockets. He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If you come up with any other,” he dropped his voice, “
inside
information, would you mind calling me? The motel number where I'm staying is written on the back.”

“Don't you have any more questions for me now?”

Izzy was only one table away and approaching rapidly. He stood and offered his hand to Dot. “Afraid not. You've been a great help. Thank you.”

She shook his hand. “I'll be glad to give you a call. We could talk half the night away. It sure doesn't seem like I told you much.”

Tony disagreed. Her tidbit was priceless. Nicole Frazell left the Valley Oaks Golden Boy floundering in the dust for
some
reason.

Isabel was fuming. Dot Cassidy knew her pharmaceuticals like nobody's business, but she also knew how to twist words into nonsense. Tony Ward had no right to accept that woman's version of today's
date
let alone anything she had to say about Brady!

Having wound her way through the perpendicular rows of picnic tables, Isabel reached where they were seated just as Tony stood. She caught Dot's voice, demurring something about not telling him much.
Ha!
That'd be the day. If it were true, it'd be an answer to the prayer that only formed in her mind three minutes ago.

“Hello, Izzy.” Tony smiled.

She cringed. Now Dot knew the nickname she abhorred. Shiny new merchandise for the gossip peddler. “Hi, Tony. Dot.”

“Tony,” Dot's tone accused, “you didn't tell me you two knew each other. And where does the name ‘Izzy' come from?”

He said, “In college—”

“We were,” Isabel cut in, taking no chances, “acquainted. Eons ago. Am I interrupting an interview?”

Tony replied, “Not at all. Have you eaten?”

“Yes. I was wondering if we could talk.”

He turned to the woman whose photographic memory was recording every nuance between them. Isabel hoped her jaw wasn't obviously clenched. “Dot,” Tony said, “it has been delightful. Will you excuse me, please?”

“Only if you promise me lunch next time!” she giggled. “Just kidding. Thank you for dinner.”

“You're welcome. Goodbye.”

Isabel added her goodbye and headed to the edge of the shelter. She veered off into the grass toward the street, nearly pitch black compared to the brightly lit park.

Tony caught up with her.

She snapped, “I wonder if the
Tribune
knows how it lucked out on this assignment?” Cattiness underscored her tone. “Your expense account won't take much of a hit at the Valley Oaks Autumn Faire.”

“That's what you think. We had the whole dinner with creamy slaw
and
cherry pie à la mode. Where are we going, by the way?”

“A quiet place.” She led him across the street to the front steps of the library. The lights, music, and laughter were muted here. Anger still churned in her stomach. No doubt Tony sensed it by now. There was no reason to mask it. She propped her hands on her hips and faced him. “Tony, what are you up to?” In spite of the attempted bravado, her voice quivered.

He walked the few remaining feet to the stoop and sat on a step, lounged back, and clasped his hands behind his head. “Am I missing something here?”

“Don't answer my question with a question! You always did that.”

“And aggravated you to no end.”

That knocked the wind from her sails. She let the silence stretch between them while she struggled against remembering.

“Aggravating you, Izzy, was one of my favorite pastimes. If I kept you going long enough, your
r
s would start rolling like crazy and oh!” He clapped a hand to his chest and closed his eyes. “The way vowels would dance around in your
mouth, like they were something physical! And then you'd start spewing forth in Spanish. You were
the
most intriguing young girl I had ever met.”

He used to say her speech was music to his writer's ears. Whenever she was upset, she'd inadvertently slip into the rhythm of her parents' accent. He would catch her unawares, egging her on to exasperation. “Tony, you were
the
most annoying guy on campus.”

“Which intrigued you.”

Which intrigued me,
she silently assented,
as well as your charm, your handsome face, and your intelligence. Probably in that order, in the beginning anyway.

He sobered. “It was an intense three months, wasn't it?”

Again, she didn't reply.

“Go ahead, yell at me, preferably in Spanish. Mine's a little rusty.”

“Do you deserve a scolding?”

“What do you think?”

“Tony!”

He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Izzy, I'm not meaning to aggravate you. I'm simply trying to get at what you're really asking me. You know what I'm up to. I'm writing an in-depth article about the Christian artist's influence on today's society.”

“All right, I'm really asking what are you doing talking to Valley Oaks' clearinghouse of gossip?”

“I recognized her as such.”

“Then why are you giving her the time of day?”

“I'm interviewing lots of folks in an attempt to get a more rounded view of your author.”

“Did she tell you about her daughter Tammy and Brady?”

“Is this gossip?”

“No. She told me her side of the story, he told me his, and I saw some of it. Brady and Tammy worked together on a
committee for the Faire last year. Tammy went after him, flirting, asking him out. He wasn't interested. Her ego was bruised. Her mother has held Brady in contempt ever since, blaming him for the entire situation.”

“Which leads you to believe her opinion is a little biased.” He chuckled. “Come on, Iz, give me more credit than you would a baboon writing this piece, huh?”

“You'll not just take her word for something?”

“I won't take anything she says as fact unless two others substantiate it. Fair enough?”

Isabel crossed her arms. His track record didn't promote trust, but that was personal, something between the two of them. And it was a long time ago. She took a deep breath, again pushing aside the memories. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Her temper fizzled. With a start she recognized a bad habit she thought was long gone. Angered at the drop of a hat, she would fuss and fume for a while, and then feel better. The sight of Tony sitting with Dot had ignited it. Tony seemed to be igniting too many emotions.

She shook her head. “Sorry. Dot is just a needy person.”

“She seems pretty self-sufficient to me. Hey, I think I hear a band warming up.” He was changing the subject.

Isabel glanced toward the square. The giant black grills used for cooking the pork chops were shut. The crowd of food-tent workers and patrons had dwindled. People were gathering nearer the band shell where park benches had been removed from the concrete slab, opening it up for dancing.

She felt deflated. How she loved the Autumn Faire! This was her fourth one, and she had been anticipating for weeks the great fun and camaraderie it offered. And now here she was stewing over Tony's presence. He was an outsider…he was going to tarnish this year's memory…but then again…he didn't have to, did he? After all, her reaction was her choice.

He was as needy as Dot, but he didn't recognize it in himself. Maybe he had never seen Jesus in action. Maybe she could at least give him a glimpse of that. That, after all, was what he needed to experience for his article.
Lord, love him through me?
“Come on, Tony. You've got to catch the full flavor of this weekend. Let's dance.”

“It's country.” His tone balked.

“Ward, you always did have a snooty side. Now, wouldn't it serve your best interests if you joined in rather than stood at a distance and observed like a condescending city slicker? Potential interviewees might see you as approachable if you do a little,” she lifted her arms and stepped sideways, “line dancing.”

He stood. “Good grief. You've gone Christian
and
country on me!”

Cal stood eye to eye with Brady and asked, “In public?”

His friend grinned. “Breaking new ground here. Watch my backside?”

“Always.” He returned the grin and punched Brady's shoulder, and then he walked on.

Cal continued patrolling the more or less circular edge of the Autumn Faire crowd gathered near the band shell. Things were winding down elsewhere in the park. He thought about Brady, who had just let him in on the latest developments with Gina.

Five years ago the guy was a basket case, working long hours at three jobs. He was teaching high school English, farming with his dad, and writing instead of sleeping, desperate to publish his stories. Writing was the love of his life, though Brady had tried to convince himself it was Nicole.

Cal had never warmed to her. She and Brady met at college. She always had a prissy look on her face and looked down her nose at Valley Oaks. The worst part, though, was her influence over Brady. She discouraged him from joining in the usual affairs with his old friends. Over time he became less sure of himself. After she left him and he pulled that crazy stunt chasing after her in California, things really went haywire. Brady stopped trying to convince Cal to trust in Jesus.

At first Cal was relieved, until he realized the impact of what that meant. It didn't mean Brady went carousing with him. The guy never did that, hadn't even in high school. No, it meant that if what Brady believed all these years was not
true, then life really was hopeless. Looking back, Cal knew it was the impetus he needed. Even when he didn't swallow everything the guy preached, he had always depended on Brady's steadfastness. When that was gone, Cal finally started reading the Bible and the other books Brady had given him.

After a time he confronted his friend. “Is it all a lie?” Cal asked. He would never forget how Brady's face crumpled.

Since then their friendship had deepened. Cal watched over him, and in time Brady's faith worked like a grappling hook to pull him from despair. The process spoke louder than all the words Brady had spoken. Cal began to trust Jesus. Scars remained in his friend, leaving Brady vulnerable. Cal ran interference for him, much as he had during football when Brady played quarterback.

And now there was Gina. It seemed Brady had found true love this time because he wasn't a basket case with this woman. He was just…contented and happy, happier than he'd ever seen him since sophomore year when they blew Clifton High out of sectionals.

Cal stopped now and scanned the crowd in the dim light, the bright band shell a backdrop behind it. He saw Isabel with that reporter, Tony Ward. They were laughing like old friends. Well, maybe they were. But he was still an unknown in Brady's life. Tomorrow Cal would grab some computer time and see what he could learn about the guy's background. It was apparent Isabel didn't want to pursue the subject. She was still snubbing him.

“Cal!” It looked like Lia coming through the shadows toward him. A little girl followed.

“Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi. Chloe, this is the Peppermint Teddy Bear, Deputy Huntington.”

Chloe held her small hand out. “How do you do, Deputy Huntington? Thank you for taking care of me last week.”

Whoa
! Where had this kid come from? “You're welcome, Chloe. It's nice to meet you with your eyes open.”

She giggled and turned to her mother. “Now may I?”

“Yes, sweetpea. I'll be right over.” The girl hurried off. “She can't wait to learn how to line dance.”

“It's tonight's big event.”

“So I hear. Cal, I need to ask you a favor. Another favor. I promise, I'm truly not a nuisance.”