Not Another Bad Date

The heavy door to the house opened and shut behind Kendra and Tiffany, and Adele closed her hand and pulled it from his grasp. “Too long.” The girls moved from beneath the vine-covered walkway into the shade of the portico. “Did you find your shoes?” she asked, and purposely turned her attention to her niece.

Kendra nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Zemaitis. I had a really good time.”

“I’m sorry about your momma.” He took a few steps back, and Adele quickly slid around the side of the car. “Let us know if there is anything we can do for y’all.” His deep voice held a hint of a smile when he added, “It was nice to see you again, Adele.”

Adele reached for the door handle and looked across at him. His lips were curved up at the corners, but she couldn’t say that it was nice to see him. Beyond the shock of seeing him after so many years, she felt nothing. No lifting of her heart. No butterflies in her stomach or warm tingles at the backs of her knees. “Good-bye, Zach.” She joined Kendra in the car and refused to look into the rearview mirror until she pulled away. Through the glass, she caught one last glimpse of the man who’d once crushed her heart. He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and moved toward the house.

Adele returned her attention to the driveway and pulled out into the street. He’d been the first man with whom she’d had sex. She’d saved herself because she’d thought she had to be in love to make love. “Right.” She made a scoffing sound and reached for her sunglasses. She’d never made that mistake again. As she’d discovered in the past fourteen years, sometimes some of the best sex had nothing to do with love. Sometimes it was just a hot release of pent-up lust. Although lately, she wouldn’t know. Being cursed played hell with her sex life.

“Did anyone call Daddy?”

She slid the glasses on her face and glanced at Kendra. “I’m not sure.” But she doubted it. “Do you want to call him?”

Kendra shrugged. “I don’t know if he cares what happens to us.”

Adele turned her full attention to Kendra and issues more important than an old boyfriend, lack of sex, and curses. “I’m sure he cares what happens to you.”

“No.” Kendra shook her head. “I thought when he found out the baby was a boy, he’d want us all to live together again. But he only cares about Stormy.”

“Stormy.” Adele made a gagging sound and wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something rotten. “What a stupid name.”

“She’s a bitch.” Kendra glanced at Adele out of the corners of her eyes as if she expected to be reprimanded for swearing.

“Yeah. A bitch with a stupid name,” Adele added as she drove through the gates and out into the real world where the air was a bit easier to breathe.

“Momma says I shouldn’t hate anyone, but I hate Stormy.”

Adele reached for her water bottle between the two front seats and unscrewed the cap. Sherilyn had always tried to be so good. The perfect Southern lady and look where that had gotten her. Adele had never tried to be perfect like her sister, but she had always tried to be kind. To be thoughtful of other people, and look where that had gotten her. She took a long drink and replaced the cap. She might not be alone and pregnant, but she was alone and cursed with one bad date after another. “I hate a lot of things.” Being surprised by an old boyfriend was currently at the top of the list.

“I hate peas.” Kendra fiddled with the zipper pull of her backpack. “I hate Cedar Creek. It’s just so small.”

“True, but you’ve already made friends. Tiffany seems like a nice girl.” Which was true and also a surprise, given her mother. Although, Zach had always been polite. Sometimes sarcastically so. He’d once told her that the fear of three-hundred-pound linebackers was nothing compared to slipping with a curse word or being disrespectful in front of his mother.

It was nice to see you again, Adele, he’d said, but he was probably just being polite. Not that she cared.

Adele had lost her accent. A smile curved Zach’s lips. Well, she might have lost that Southern, melt-you-like-butter voice spilling from her full red mouth, but she was still as hot as all hell. Still had those long curls and turquoise eyes that looked slightly drowsy even when she was wide-awake. Still looked good in other places, too.

Zach dried his hair with a towel, then hung it on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. He grabbed his electric razor and walked into his bedroom. He had half an hour to get to his office at Cedar Creek High to review last night’s game tapes with the other coaches. He shaved as he dressed in blue boxers, a pair of Levi’s, and a Cougars Coaching Staff sweatshirt.

She hadn’t seemed very happy to see him, though. In fact, she’d been all fired up to leave. Which was probably for the best. He wasn’t the kind of guy who lived in the past or thought much about what might or could have been. He didn’t relive his glory days in the NFL, nor did he rehash his mistakes. God knows there’d been enough of those.

Zach pointed his chin to the ceiling and shaved just below his jaw. When he did look back on his life, he saw it in three distinct parts. Before the NFL, during, and his life now. He’d known Adele a few lifetimes ago, and he had little interest in a trip down memory lane. Especially with a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

He shut off his razor and tossed it on the dresser. She did look good, though. As beautiful as ever, and the front of her sweater had been real interesting. His smile tilted up a bit more. She’d obviously been cold.

“Daddy,” Tiffany called out a second before she knocked. Typical of her, she didn’t wait for an answer before she stuck her head inside. “When ya gonna be back?”

“Probably around two.” He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on a pair of clean socks. The team needed to work more on their passing game now that Don was out for the rest of the season. Zach had a lot of tricks in his playbook and running the Pistol offense was one of them. He’d talk to the other coaches, but it was a lot easier to run play action out of the Pistol.

“Can I have a few friends over while you’re gone?”

“You need to put the living room back together while I’m gone.”

Tiffany’s shoulder slumped. “Daddy.”

He shoved his feet into his black Pumas and bent over to tie the laces. “And the television room is a mess. There are dirty cups and bowls all over the place.”

“We need a maid,” she said through a long, drawn-out sigh and folded her skinny arms over her skinny chest.

When Devon had been alive, they’d had a full-time maid. Now they had a maid service once a week. “No.” He stood. “We need you to pick up after yourself.”

“If I clean up, can I have a get-together?”

He moved to his dresser and slid his watch onto his wrist. “When and what kind?”

“Next weekend. The girls from my dance team.”

Twelve thirteen-year-olds. Twelve emotional thirteen-year-olds prone to high-pitched screaming and drama. Last summer, one of Tiffany’s friends had locked herself in the bathroom with a cell phone and had cried to her boyfriend all day. What was a thirteen-year-old girl doing with a boyfriend anyway? Zach would rather get kicked in the nuts than go through that again. “Next game is on Saturday in Midland. Kickoff ’s at one, so I’ll be leaving Friday sometime.”

“Is Leanna coming over?” she asked, referring to the neighbor girl Zach hired to stay with Tiffany when he had to go out of town.

“Yep.”

“Cool. Can I have my party Sunday? You’ll be home.”

“Honey,” he said through a sigh, “I’m goin’ to be tired, and you have school the next day.”

“You can sleep in, and I’ll do all the work.” She dropped her hands to her sides. The girl was relentless as her mother had been. “And I’ll make sure everyone is out of here early. Please, Daddy?”

He frowned, and she took it for a yes and bounced up and down on her heels with excitement. “If it’s nice, can we barbecue outside?” she asked.

“I doubt it will be that nice.” He moved across the room. “If it is, I don’t see why not.”