Small Town Girl (14 page)

While Tess and Kenny were standing with their fillings showing, each embarrassed before the other, Mary spoke up.

"Well, of course she'll do it, won't you, Tess?"

Tess could have cheerfully gagged her mother with her own catheter tube. She gaped haplessly at Reverend Giddings, then at Kenny, then back at the minister. "Well… uh…" Her eyes connected with Kenny's and she offered him a feeble smile. He looked as uncomfortable as she. "I guess so, huh?" She gave an exaggerated shrug—"Why not?"—and let out a strained laugh that fooled no one.

Why not, indeed. There were at least five good reasons, which neither Tess nor Kenny could voice with the minister grinning and looking pleased with himself.

For the remainder of the visit they kept a goodly distance between them, as disenchanted with the situation as any two people could be.

Finally Reverend Giddings took his leave. The moment his back disappeared around the doorway, Casey decided to set the record straight about her involvement. "Hey, Mac! I never had anything to do with him asking you!" she declared. "You believe me, don't you?"

Every eye in the room was on Tess. She would have looked like a jerk to refuse to help, especially given how little time and effort it would take, and the nature of the cause. "Listen, I guess it won't kill me."

"But I wouldn't do that to you!" Casey insisted. "Not after you let me know you weren't too thrilled with the idea!"

From the bed, Mary spoke up. "But, Tess, why wouldn't you sing with the choir if you're going to church anyway?"

"Could we just drop it?" She raised both hands in surrender. "I'll do it. There. It's finished. No more discussion."

Though it was the end of the discussion, and Kenny and Casey left shortly thereafter, the whole scene continued to rankle Tess even after she left the hospital.

Driving home, she wondered whom to believe. Certainly Casey seemed sincere in her disclaimer, and Kenny had appeared as discomfited as she herself by the minister's suggestion. She resisted giving him the benefit of the doubt, however, just because he was Kenny. What difference did it make now? It wouldn't be the first time she'd said yes to singing at some benefit appearance she'd rather have skipped. So she faced the awful prospect of singing in Saint Kenny's choir, standing face-to-face with him while he directed her.

Damn Giddings anyway!

She was still disgruntled over it when she got home and went into the house to put her groceries away, check inside the front door for express packets and begin making phone calls. She washed some grapes and took a handful upstairs, confronted with the view of Kenny's house every damned time she turned around in this place. From the window at the head of the stairs to the one above her mother's kitchen sink, his house was constantly in her face.

It was hot upstairs. The afternoon temperature had reached eighty. She changed into a pair of cotton shorts and went back downstairs for more grapes. She was standing at the sink, plucking a few more from the clump when she noticed the wilted tomato plants.

Hell, she'd forgotten to water the garden yesterday.

Out she went, and into the service door of the garage to search out a yellow plastic fan-shaped nozzle. At the house she screwed it onto the coiled hose, and dragged the whole works across the narrow sidewalk to the garden. She had just started sprinkling when Kenny's porch door slammed and he came striding across his backyard toward her. Faith Oxbury's car was parked in front of his garage door, and Tess's Z was parked in front of Mary's. He swerved around both of them, heading toward Tess, who continued fanning the water across her mother's tomato plants.

"Just for the record," he said when he was ten feet from her, "I didn't have anything to do with Reverend Giddings's invitation! I didn't want to say so in front of your mother, though."

She let her eyes shift over him once. He was frowning, standing a body length away from her. He had changed out of his business suit and was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki pants, ultratidy, as if he'd just finished showering and combing for the second time that day. His shirt collar was turned up intentionally and he had trendy Top-Siders on his feet.

She moved farther away from him, dragging the hose and waving the nozzle above the carrots. "So you don't want me to sing with the choir?"

"I didn't say that. I said I didn't put him up to inviting you."

"I believe you," she said, refusing to glance at him again.

He seemed nonplussed by her quick admission, and stood momentarily disarmed before blurting out, grumpily, "We practice on Tuesdays, though. If you intend to sing with us you better sit in on next week's practice."

She closed the thumb switch on the sprinkler and threw it down on the grass. "Look!" She marched over to confront him at closer range, glaring up at his eyes. They were brown and belligerent with a spiky set of lashes that were perhaps his best feature. His mouth might not be bad if he ever stopped crimping it up like a rooster's asshole. But did he have to put on that
look
and assume that domineering stance? She rammed her hands on her hips and thrust her nose forward. "You've been pissed off at me since the moment you walked into my mother's house and saw me there. You faked it real nice at the hospital today in front of the minister, but we both know something gives you an acid stomach every time we're in the same room together! So do you want me to sing with your choir or don't you? 'Cause it's no skin off my ass if I do or I don't! i mean, I don't need it,
Jake
! It's not my church and he's not my minister! But if you haven't got enough gumption to tell
him
you don't want me singing, then at least have the gumption to tell
me
! Because I don't intend to stand up in some choir loft and raise money for your church while I have to put up with your antagonism and your belittling attitude, so get rid of it, mister!"

"You're a fine one to talk about belittling attitudes!" he retorted with equal anger. "Yours stretches as far back as 1976, doesn't it?"

"Oh, so that's what this is about!"

"Y' damn right that's what this is about, and you know it!"

"How I treated you in high school?"

"You were cruel! You made a mockery of people's feelings!"

"Oh! And what about
my
feelings two days ago when I came home? You walk into my mother's house and treat me as if I just flossed in front of the Queen and your feelings were hurt? Why, you didn't even have the common courtesy to say hello to me!"

"And what kind of common courtesy did you show me when we were in high school? Do you think I didn't know how that gang of smart-asses you ran around with made fun of me?"

"Oh, Kenny, for God's sake, grow up. That was nineteen years ago. People change."

"Oh, yeah, and you really did! Roaring in here with your thirty-thousand-dollar car—"

"Forty."

"—and your vanity license plates, wearing a shirt that says Boss. Lady, you really impressed me."

"I wasn't out to
impress
you,
Kenneth
. The car is mine. I paid for it with my own money. Why shouldn't I drive it? And for your information, I bought the sweatshirt at a Springsteen concert."

"Oh. Well, excuse me! I guess I was wrong about how you used to poke fun at me back in high school, too!"

She gave him a short consideration and said, more calmly, "You carry a long grudge, Kenny."

"You deserve it, Tess," he replied, more calmly, too.

It was the first time he'd called her by her given name instead of Mac, with a sardonic twist. She backed off a little.

"All right, maybe I do, but did you have to be such a nerd?"

"See? Attitude! Didn't I tell you you have an attitude? You did then and you do now."

"Might I remind you of how you used to wear your hair? And how your glasses used to hang on your nose? Hey, tell me something. Do you still get nosebleeds?"

"No. Do you still think you're the best singer in the state of Missouri?"

"I know I am."

"And do you still send anonymous sappy and insincere valentines to guys you think have crushes on you, just to watch them squirm?"

"I never sent you valentines!"

"And I never had a crush on you. I hated you."

"You did not. You couldn't take your eyes off me."

"You thought every guy couldn't take his eyes off you. Probably most of them were just cross-eyed, though."

"Oho, very funny. What about that choir trip when you were a senior and I was a junior and you tried to hold my hand?"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to hold your hand, I was trying to cop a feel. I had a bet on with a bunch of my friends that I could feel you up."

"Kenneth Kronek! You are disgusting!"

"Well, that makes two of us. Kenny Kronek and the girl who stole his underwear and sent it back with a lipstick kiss on it, just to embarrass him. You were the one who did it, weren't you?"

"Guess."

"Who did you get to steal them out of the boys' locker room for you?"

"Guess."

"You got me in a lot of trouble, you little brat. That package came when I was at school and my mother opened it up."

"
All right, Lucille!"
Tess brandished a victorious fist in the air. "
Way to go
!"

"You were, without a doubt, the most reprehensible female in the entire high school."

"Oh, hey, what about Cindy Gallamore? She was more reprehensible than I was."

"Why? Because she got the lead in the school play that you wanted? Boy, that really bummed you out, didn't it?"

"She never quit rubbing it in. Never!"

"And I never quit applauding her for it."

"Does your sweet little daughter know you harbor all this hidden viciousness?"

"No, but she knows all about yours. I've told her."

"Oh, you have, huh?"

"She knows all about every rotten thing you ever did to me. How you teased me, and set me up, and wrote me notes starting 'Dear Kenny Crow Neck,'—C-R-O-W-N-E-C-K—and generally made my life miserable whenever you could."

"Yeah, but she still admires me, right?"

"That's right. So do you think you can haul your big ego over to church and give her some reason to?"

"If I do, are you going to treat me like an insect or are you going to be nice?"

"I'll think about it."

"Uh-huh," she said dryly.

They eyed each other warily for a few seconds, but the air had definitely cleared. They suddenly realized they were were sparring and enjoying it. They were very good at it, actually.

"Hey, you know what?" Tess said thoughtfully, tipping her head to one side a little.

"What?"

"For an ex-nerd, you sure are quick at repartee."

"Why, thank you, Tess. That's the nicest thing you've said to me since we were in rompers. I'm so relieved to know I've managed to elevate myself in your esteem."

They weren't actually grinning at each other, but they were tempted. It had been startlingly refreshing to air their grievances and see where it got them. They were still standing beside the garden with the watering forgotten, sending challenges with their eyes, when across the alley, the porch door opened and Faith called, "Kenny… are you out here?"

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, then locked eyes with Tess again. She bent down, picked up the hose, turned it on and sent the spray fanning across the rhubarb leaves.

"Better go," she said, smirking, "your girlfriend is calling."

He turned to do so. At his porch door Faith caught sight of them and waved exuberantly. It was obvious her exuberance was triggered more by her first glimpse of a Nashville superstar than by the man she was all but married to.

Tess put on her generic meet-the-fans smile and waved back. But as she watched Kenny's retreating back she couldn't help wondering what Faith was like and if the two of them had indeed been having an affair for eight years.