Lights Out (11 page)

“Can Shane come to the coffee shop with us today?” Taylor asked. No hellos, just getting right to the point.

“Uh, doesn’t your uncle normally pick you up?” Piper turned to look at Shane, feeling a little put on the spot. “I bet he has plans for you,” she added, hoping so.

“Nope, he doesn’t, and he wouldn’t mind. Plus he’s been late the last few times. I can call and ask him now. I’ll tell him I’m going home with you. He wouldn’t mind, I’ve done it before. It’s okay as long as he knows the person and their parents.”

“Wow,” Piper said, impressed by the sheer number of words he’d gotten out without taking a breath.

“Come on, Piper. He’s my friend. You know his uncle and he knows you,” Taylor said, pleading her case.

Piper sighed and looked over at Ken, who sat smiling at Shane, her new crush in place.

“I’ll call my uncle right now,” Shane said, somehow reading her. He knew adult indecision when he saw it.

“I bet he’s busy.”

“No, he told me I could call him anytime,” Shane said, dialing the number as he talked.

They all watched Shane, waiting.

“Uncle Joe. Taylor has invited me to go home with her. Her sister, Piper, says it’s okay. We’re going over to their coffee shop. I’ve never been there. Remember you promised to take me. You can pick me up from there.”

He had that talking without breathing thing down pat, Piper thought.

“No, she’s sitting right here,” Shane said, looking at Piper and smiling before handing her his phone. “He wants to talk to you,” he said.

“Okay,” Piper said, taking the phone from his hand. She stood up and walked away from the bum-rush trio.

“Hello,” she said, shy now, tentative even.

“Hey,” he said, smooth as warm caramel candy.

“The kids just sprang this on me,” she blurted out, wanting him to know it wasn’t her idea, like she was using the kids’ friendship with his nephew for more.

“No problem,” he said agreeably.

“I mean, it’s not that I mind. I don’t, but I can understand if you have a problem with the short notice and all. We usually go back to either one of the two shops, do homework, snack, and I work a little. Then we head for home. Shane is welcome to come with us if you want, but I understand if you don’t. It’s such short notice, we can do it some other time,” she said, looking back at the kids, who were seated, waiting and watching her.

“It’s not a problem, Piper, really. I can pick him up from your shop. Just tell me which one.”

“The new one; the one you usually come to. We’ll be there until about six or six-thirty. Will that work for you?”

“Yes. Let me call the school, give them permission.”

“Okay. The kids will be pleased.”

“I’m sure they will,” he said. “Let me talk to Shane for a second, and then give me five to call the school.”

“Sure,” she said, walking back and handing the phone to Shane. She watched as he nodded his head and said yes a few times before hanging up.

“He’s going to call the school now, and then we can go,” he said to Taylor.

Another ten minutes and they all loaded up in Piper’s car and she drove the five minutes it took to get to the shop. She parked and they headed in, Taylor securing a booth near the TV. No surprise there.

Piper noted the comfort and ease with which her sisters moved around the shop, delighted in the knowledge that they felt like they belonged here. After securing three strawberry banana smoothies, they started in on their homework, with Ken sitting next to them, working on writing or something. Mostly, though, she gazed at Shane.

Homework took about an hour to complete, so then it was time for play on the Wii, the reason behind the focus and dedication to homework. Whatever worked, Piper thought, watching them.

She worked the counter and cleaned. Cleaning was a job that never ended, either at home or here. Piper turned at the bell that rang when the door opened. It was Joe, dressed for work.

He scanned the room for his nephew and smiled when he spotted him toward the back of the shop, dancing, playing on the Wii. He needed to get going; still had dinner in front of him.

He turned and found Piper’s eyes on him. She was back at the counter, leaning against it, her arms crossed, watching him. Her hair was in those puffs, his favorite of her hairstyles, a smirk at her mouth. He took a few steps, closing the distance between them.

“Thanks for letting Shane come with you,” he said.

“It worked out well, actually. He kept Taylor entertained, gave her motivation to complete her homework quickly, not drag it out like she usually does.”

They were quiet, watching the kids play.

“So how was your day?” he asked.

“Fine. Yours?”

“Fine,” he replied. They went back to silence again, watching the kids finish the dance. She was nervous again. Joe looked down at this watch.

“Getting settled in to school?” he asked.

“Yes, figured out how to check grades online,” she said.

“Good thing to know. You’re welcome to call if you have a school-related question. I might know the answer.”

“Thanks,” she said, watching her sister and Shane, laughing as Taylor missed a step. “You know if you need any help with Shane, feel free to call. My sisters like him and it would be easy to pick him up when I grab the girls.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking at her, pleased by her offer. “Well, I’d better get going,” he said, heading toward the corner to the kids. She pushed away from the counter and followed him over.

“Shane, dude.”

“Hey, Uncle Joe. I’m almost done here. I’m winning.”

“That’s good, but we need to get moving. Tell everyone thanks,” he said, reaching for Shane’s backpack from the floor.

“Thanks for letting me come home with you today,” Shane said, stepping off the mat.

“We enjoyed it. You have to come back another time, maybe on the weekend, and you can stay longer with us.”

“Can I come this weekend?” Shane asked his uncle.

“We’ll see,” Joe said. “Thanks again,” he said to Piper before he and Shane walked toward the front door.

She watched them leave. She glanced at her watch—6:30. It was pushing past time for her crew to head home.

“Let’s go, girls,” she said, turning and heading toward her office.

Second week in September

Joe was tired. He had gotten home later than he liked two days in a row; at eight yesterday, and now he was walking up to his door at eight-thirty. Thank God it was Friday. Fortunately he’d found a sitter for Shane who seemed to be working out okay so far. She’d picked him up from school both days he ran late. She was a college student, a little flighty, but sweet.

Joe unlocked the front door, and was surprised to walk in and find several people in his home. There seemed to be a party going on, and he hadn’t gotten his invitation. There were kids present—well they weren’t kids really—maybe nine years younger or so than him. He wondered when he’d gotten old. They smiled, said hi, and he smiled back. He walked toward the kitchen, where he found yet more party guests.

“Hey, Joe, you’re home early,” the sitter, April, said, all chipper. She opened the door to the refrigerator, pulled out his gallon of milk, and walked to the counter, where she poured some into a bowl. Empty egg shells sat in an egg carton next to the bowl.

“I’m making an omelet,” she said, putting the top back on the milk, picking up the fork and beginning to stir. “Some of my friends were hungry, so I decided to make enough for us all. I told them you wouldn’t mind, that you’d be cool with it.”

“Where’s Shane?” he asked.

“In his room, I think.”

Joe turned and walked out the door toward Shane’s room. Yep, there was Shane, sitting on his bed, watching as two other college-age boys sat on the floor, controllers in their hands, playing a video game.

“Hey, Uncle Joe,” Shane said from the bed, smiling before pointing to the two young men seated at the foot of his bed, feet stretched out before them, crossed at the ankles, bodies twisting as they gave chase to some alien on the screen.

“Hey, dude,” they said in unison, eyes darting in between Joe and their game.

Joe turned and walked back to the kitchen.

“April, I’ll take over from here,” he said, holding his hand out for the fork, turning off the heat on the stove. “It’s been a long day. You and your crew should leave.”

She seemed startled.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“Nope, just wanted you and only you in the house with Shane,” he said.

“What’s the big deal? I know these guys. They’re harmless,” she replied.

“I’m sure, but it’s not what I hired you for. So, again, thanks for taking care of Shane.” He reached for his wallet, took out enough to cover what he owed her, and handed it to her.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing is required. Come on, I’ll see you out,” he said, waiting as she walked out of the kitchen and called out to her friends. They came, the two from Shane’s room, the four from the front, bewildered at first, and then angry, but leaving, which was all he cared about.

“So I’m not working here anymore?” she asked.

“No, you are not. Oh, let me have the key to the front door,” he said. The confused expression on her face was priceless. She reached into her purse and pulled his key from her ring, gave it to him and followed her friends out of his home.

Okay, back to square one, Joe thought, heading back to the kitchen as Shane walked into the living room.

“Where did everyone go?” Shane asked.

“Home. You hungry?” Joe asked.

“Nope, I treated April to Jack in the Box on our way home from school. Used my allowance,” he said proudly.

Joe inwardly groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I’m going to clean up the kitchen then. I could use some help and conversation,” he said. He could use some sleep, but he liked to talk to Shane find out what was going on in school and his life.

“Sure,” Shane said.

“So how is school?” Joe asked, walking in the direction of the kitchen.

“Fine. Taylor and I have been assigned a project together,” Shane said, following him.

“Really,” he said, walking to the sink, putting the stopper in while reaching below for some soap.

“I like her a lot. She plays soccer and basketball,” he said.

“That’s good,” Joe said, running his hands through the water and moving to stack plates. He ran them through the suds before putting them in the dishwasher—a habit he’d picked up from his foster mom, one of the many household tips she’d taught him. He spent many a night in her kitchen, helping her clean up. She listened to his seventeen-year-old self, his anger and hurt. That was all so long ago.

“Basketball, huh?” he said to Shane.

“Yep. And she’s smart, and pretty, and fun,” he said.

Joe listened as Shane moved on to the other parts of his day and his life. He allowed his nephew’s voice to quiet some of the stress he’d felt from work, reminding him of work’s place, behind his family. Shane was his family. He’d worry about finding a new sitter tomorrow. Tonight he’d just enjoy his nephew, maybe watch a movie or a game or something and fall asleep on the couch. Sounded like a perfect ending to this week.

* * *

The following week Piper walked down the hallway searching for Taylor’s locker and a forgotten assignment. She found the locker and placed Taylor’s assignment in the blue folder as per her sister’s instructions. Might as well snoop a little, now that she was here. She was surprised at how neat and tidy it was. It was color-themed with coordinated shelving, a mirror, and pencil holders magnetically clinging to the inside of her locker. This generation had all the cool stuff.

She closed the door. It was quiet in the hall. She made her way down the hall, headed toward the exit, until she heard that voice—Joe’s voice. What is he doing here? she wondered, moving toward the sound, which was coming from a classroom.

The door was open, providing a clear view to the inside. She would be able to peer in if she stood a ways back. She didn’t want to be seen, just to see, and this spot afforded her the best opportunity to do both.

It was the computer lab. Kids were sitting around computers while Joe, of all people, talked. Was he teaching? She listened for a second and yep, he was indeed lecturing, making jokes, and explaining something computer-related to the kids. She watched him smile—a full one, with nice teeth between soft and supple lips.

“Ms. Knight,” someone said from behind her, causing Piper to nearly jump out of her skin. She turned to find Mr. Marshall, Taylor’s homeroom teacher, standing next to her, his smile open, eyes interested.