advertised their love. Watching them stand hip-to-hip, the girl’s head resting on the boy’s collarbone, made Faye smile. The girl’s honeyed hair was familiar. Faye finally recognized her as Irene Montrose.
Faye was glad to see Irene out of the house. The light in the girl’s amber eyes said that her sad responsibilities as her mother’s caregiver hadn’t completely snuffed out her youth. Those eyes gazed upward at a tall slim young man with dark hair. When he turned his head to whisper in Irene’s ear, Faye got her first good look at his face. His eyes were an impossible color of turquoise. And they were set in the dusky face that had watched Faye and her car skidding down a deserted gravel road the day before. This was Jimmie Lavelle.
There at the stadium, surrounded by people having a good time, she wondered if she could forgive him for nearly getting her killed with his devil dummy. In fact—
With a start, Faye took another look at the opposing team—on the backs of their jerseys were written the words, “Blue Devils.” She realized, with some relief, that Jimmie’s stunt the day before had nothing to do with her; it was nothing more than a high school prank gone wrong. She looked back at Jimmie. The protective look in his lovely eyes showed that he returned Irene’s love. For that, Faye was willing to cut him some slack.
But apparently someone else wasn’t. Ronya Smiley was heading toward Jimmie and Irene, and she was wasting no time. Her long sturdy legs took the stadium stairs two at a time, and her voice boomed out over the stands.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.” She dropped a heavy hand on Jimmie’s shoulder. “But now I see you’re just an ignorant kid.”
Irene started to speak, but Ronya silenced her by placing her other hand on Irene’s shoulder. It was as large as the one restraining Jimmie, but a lot gentler.
“You say you want to take care of Irene. Well, how do you plan to do that when you don’t appear to have good sense? Let me explain to you how this world works.” Releasing Irene, she grabbed Jimmie’s other shoulder and put her mouth right next to his ear.
Jimmie’s air of teenage superiority evaporated, replaced by the vulnerable innocence of a young child shocked to learn that his actions have not pleased. When Ronya released him, he looked at her with turquoise eyes full of abject apology and muttered something inaudible.
“You want some more popcorn?” Brent asked.
Faye gave up trying to eavesdrop on Ronya’s efforts to jerk a knot in Jimmie’s youthful cockiness. It wasn’t nice to ignore one’s date by indulging one’s snoopier instincts. Still, she wished she could have heard Ronya’s explanation of how the world worked. She suspected the woman could offer an original perspective on most issues.
***
It spoke well for Brent that the Alcaskaki team’s ignominious loss to the Blue Devils passed quickly for Faye. He seemed to know everybody in the grandstand—whites, blacks, and Sujosa alike—and if he didn’t introduce her to every last one of them, it wasn’t because he didn’t try. Early in the evening, she’d mentioned that the soaring, spinning trajectories of a flying football took her back to physics class, and his eyes had lit up in recognition of another science geek. Brent’s observations on a perfectly thrown football, spiraling along its parabolic path, were particularly cogent, considering that he’d been a good physics student and a quarterback.
All in all, it was hard to find fault with a handsome, friendly, smart date who seemed to like her very much.
On the twenty-minute ride home, Brent provided an explanation of the mechanical advantage of tackling low, well beneath the other guy’s center-of-gravity, so that the longer lever arm could help you knock him off his feet, at which point Faye realized she’d been had.
“You’re making fun of me,” she said, twisting against her seatbelt to get a
Faye was glad to see Irene out of the house. The light in the girl’s amber eyes said that her sad responsibilities as her mother’s caregiver hadn’t completely snuffed out her youth. Those eyes gazed upward at a tall slim young man with dark hair. When he turned his head to whisper in Irene’s ear, Faye got her first good look at his face. His eyes were an impossible color of turquoise. And they were set in the dusky face that had watched Faye and her car skidding down a deserted gravel road the day before. This was Jimmie Lavelle.
There at the stadium, surrounded by people having a good time, she wondered if she could forgive him for nearly getting her killed with his devil dummy. In fact—
With a start, Faye took another look at the opposing team—on the backs of their jerseys were written the words, “Blue Devils.” She realized, with some relief, that Jimmie’s stunt the day before had nothing to do with her; it was nothing more than a high school prank gone wrong. She looked back at Jimmie. The protective look in his lovely eyes showed that he returned Irene’s love. For that, Faye was willing to cut him some slack.
But apparently someone else wasn’t. Ronya Smiley was heading toward Jimmie and Irene, and she was wasting no time. Her long sturdy legs took the stadium stairs two at a time, and her voice boomed out over the stands.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.” She dropped a heavy hand on Jimmie’s shoulder. “But now I see you’re just an ignorant kid.”
Irene started to speak, but Ronya silenced her by placing her other hand on Irene’s shoulder. It was as large as the one restraining Jimmie, but a lot gentler.
“You say you want to take care of Irene. Well, how do you plan to do that when you don’t appear to have good sense? Let me explain to you how this world works.” Releasing Irene, she grabbed Jimmie’s other shoulder and put her mouth right next to his ear.
Jimmie’s air of teenage superiority evaporated, replaced by the vulnerable innocence of a young child shocked to learn that his actions have not pleased. When Ronya released him, he looked at her with turquoise eyes full of abject apology and muttered something inaudible.
“You want some more popcorn?” Brent asked.
Faye gave up trying to eavesdrop on Ronya’s efforts to jerk a knot in Jimmie’s youthful cockiness. It wasn’t nice to ignore one’s date by indulging one’s snoopier instincts. Still, she wished she could have heard Ronya’s explanation of how the world worked. She suspected the woman could offer an original perspective on most issues.
***
It spoke well for Brent that the Alcaskaki team’s ignominious loss to the Blue Devils passed quickly for Faye. He seemed to know everybody in the grandstand—whites, blacks, and Sujosa alike—and if he didn’t introduce her to every last one of them, it wasn’t because he didn’t try. Early in the evening, she’d mentioned that the soaring, spinning trajectories of a flying football took her back to physics class, and his eyes had lit up in recognition of another science geek. Brent’s observations on a perfectly thrown football, spiraling along its parabolic path, were particularly cogent, considering that he’d been a good physics student and a quarterback.
All in all, it was hard to find fault with a handsome, friendly, smart date who seemed to like her very much.
On the twenty-minute ride home, Brent provided an explanation of the mechanical advantage of tackling low, well beneath the other guy’s center-of-gravity, so that the longer lever arm could help you knock him off his feet, at which point Faye realized she’d been had.
“You’re making fun of me,” she said, twisting against her seatbelt to get a
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