weight, so keep that in mind.” He turned to Chip. “I’ve already got Zae Richardson on my list, so I’d like you to choose two of your other students.”
“Which belt class are you putting Zae in?” Chip asked.
“Any one she wants.”
They chuckled, each of them having survived in- house run-ins with Zae.
“Put her in the black belt class.” Cory grinned. “I’d love to see her tear up that bulldog from the Philippines.” He pointed to the television. “Did you see his take down?”
They quieted to watch the fight footage, Gian’s ani mated play-by-play providing insight to the styles and h abits of the men they would likely face in the tourna ment. Once the DVD was over, Gian dismissed them with copies to study on their own time.
Chip volunteered to stay and help Gian clean up the kitchen. “My mother’s baked ziti normally feeds twelve,” Gian said, scooping the half-cup leftover portion into a small plastic storage container. “Or one Sionne.”
“Karl made off with the last of the ribs,” Chip said. “Gian, he’s totally outta control.”
Gian plunged the empty casserole dish into a sink full of hot, soapy water. “Maybe he wanted something to chow on while he watches the Cards tonight.”
“I’m not talking about him stealing your leftovers.”
Gian glanced up from the dish he was washing and sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s gotten worse ever since he lost his job at the auto plant.”
Chip leaned against the counter nearest Gian. “That’s not your problem. But sooner or later, he’s going to become yours. He’s always been obnoxious, and now he’s downright mean.”
His white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, Gian stared forward as he washed the ziti dish. Through the wide, bare window before him, he watched a hawk soar above the treetops. The hawk either lived in or planned to prey on something scurrying through the organized wilderness of the Shady Creek Nature Conservatory abutting Gian’s big backyard.
“I can’t fire him,” Gian finally said. “Sheng Li is all he’s got left.”
“So why’s he trying to throw it away?”
“ He’s in a bad place right now. You and I know what that’s like. It’ll pass.”
Staring at his flip flops, Chip grabbed his left elbow with his right hand. “Are you sure?”
“No.”
“He’s got a real burr in his saddle about Cinder.” “You noticed?” Gian asked wryly.
“He’s not the only one preoccupied with her.”
“Cory asked about her yesterday.” Gian laughed. “Not that he’d know what to do with her if she was into twenty-year-old college juniors.”
“I don’t know,” Chip said. “Cory’s got his goofy moments, but I don’t see anything wrong with a younger man seeing an older woman.”
Gian nearly dropped the freshly rinsed casserole pan. “You wouldn’t mind seeing Cory with Cinder White? Our little Cory?”
“Not if that’s who she wanted to be with. But he’s not who she’s into.”
Gian pulled the stopper from the drain and the stain less steel sink emptied with a soft sucking sound. He dried his hands on a white, waffle-weave kitchen towel. “I’d love to hear all about your love connection with Cinder, but I got laundry to do and some yard work that needs—”
“It’s not me, Gian,” Chip cut in. “I think it’s you.” Gian’s interest in the conversation renewed instantly. “Did she say something? How do you know?”
With a tiny grin, Chip shook his head. “The ol’ Kish charm didn’t move her one bit last night. She only w anted to know about you. I don’t think she even real ized it until I pointed it out.”
Gian’s chest seemed to inflate and his step was lighter as he went to the refrigerator. Karl’s fingerprints in bar beque sauce were on the door handle, but Gian didn’t seem to care. He simply wiped them away with paper towels. “There’s something about her. It’s like with Lucia.” Forgetting about his laundry and yard work, he took a couple
“Which belt class are you putting Zae in?” Chip asked.
“Any one she wants.”
They chuckled, each of them having survived in- house run-ins with Zae.
“Put her in the black belt class.” Cory grinned. “I’d love to see her tear up that bulldog from the Philippines.” He pointed to the television. “Did you see his take down?”
They quieted to watch the fight footage, Gian’s ani mated play-by-play providing insight to the styles and h abits of the men they would likely face in the tourna ment. Once the DVD was over, Gian dismissed them with copies to study on their own time.
Chip volunteered to stay and help Gian clean up the kitchen. “My mother’s baked ziti normally feeds twelve,” Gian said, scooping the half-cup leftover portion into a small plastic storage container. “Or one Sionne.”
“Karl made off with the last of the ribs,” Chip said. “Gian, he’s totally outta control.”
Gian plunged the empty casserole dish into a sink full of hot, soapy water. “Maybe he wanted something to chow on while he watches the Cards tonight.”
“I’m not talking about him stealing your leftovers.”
Gian glanced up from the dish he was washing and sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s gotten worse ever since he lost his job at the auto plant.”
Chip leaned against the counter nearest Gian. “That’s not your problem. But sooner or later, he’s going to become yours. He’s always been obnoxious, and now he’s downright mean.”
His white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, Gian stared forward as he washed the ziti dish. Through the wide, bare window before him, he watched a hawk soar above the treetops. The hawk either lived in or planned to prey on something scurrying through the organized wilderness of the Shady Creek Nature Conservatory abutting Gian’s big backyard.
“I can’t fire him,” Gian finally said. “Sheng Li is all he’s got left.”
“So why’s he trying to throw it away?”
“ He’s in a bad place right now. You and I know what that’s like. It’ll pass.”
Staring at his flip flops, Chip grabbed his left elbow with his right hand. “Are you sure?”
“No.”
“He’s got a real burr in his saddle about Cinder.” “You noticed?” Gian asked wryly.
“He’s not the only one preoccupied with her.”
“Cory asked about her yesterday.” Gian laughed. “Not that he’d know what to do with her if she was into twenty-year-old college juniors.”
“I don’t know,” Chip said. “Cory’s got his goofy moments, but I don’t see anything wrong with a younger man seeing an older woman.”
Gian nearly dropped the freshly rinsed casserole pan. “You wouldn’t mind seeing Cory with Cinder White? Our little Cory?”
“Not if that’s who she wanted to be with. But he’s not who she’s into.”
Gian pulled the stopper from the drain and the stain less steel sink emptied with a soft sucking sound. He dried his hands on a white, waffle-weave kitchen towel. “I’d love to hear all about your love connection with Cinder, but I got laundry to do and some yard work that needs—”
“It’s not me, Gian,” Chip cut in. “I think it’s you.” Gian’s interest in the conversation renewed instantly. “Did she say something? How do you know?”
With a tiny grin, Chip shook his head. “The ol’ Kish charm didn’t move her one bit last night. She only w anted to know about you. I don’t think she even real ized it until I pointed it out.”
Gian’s chest seemed to inflate and his step was lighter as he went to the refrigerator. Karl’s fingerprints in bar beque sauce were on the door handle, but Gian didn’t seem to care. He simply wiped them away with paper towels. “There’s something about her. It’s like with Lucia.” Forgetting about his laundry and yard work, he took a couple
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