The plum eyeliner and lipstick in maraschino.” She glanced at her watch, then she turned to her niece, “What are you going to get?”
“Me? I don’t have Momma’s credit card.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have tons of credit cards.”
“Really.” Kendra smiled. “You’d buy me some makeup?”
“Sure. I don’t think your mother will mind, and I haven’t given my cards a workout since I’ve been here. I’m feeling a little deprived.”
“Do you mind if I get concealer?” Kendra pointed to a pimple on her chin. “This is so embarrassing.”
Adele looked at the choices of concealer the saleslady had placed before them and pointed to a small tube with a wand. “Do you like this one? It looks like your color.”
Kendra nodded and the saleswoman turned and opened a drawer of concealer.
“Do you want to go see your momma before or after dinner?” Adele asked her niece.
“After. Tiffany’s coming over to our house, and her daddy’s picking her up around six.”
“Oh.” The memory of Zach with his big “skilled” hands on her breasts inconveniently popped into her head.
“I hope it’s all right, but Daddy’s practice is going to run a little late tonight.”
Adele didn’t know if she was ready to see “Daddy” so soon. She’d hoped to maybe avoid him until the memory of the bathroom incident faded a bit. “Of course it’s all right. Sheri won’t mind if we come a little later than usual.”
The saleswoman piled the concealer and pink lip gloss with Adele’s makeup and Tiffany pointed out the cosmetics she wanted. “You’re so lucky, Kendra,” Tiffany said, and sat back in her chair. “I wish I was going to have a baby brother.”
“We get to feel him kick all the time.”
“You have to let me babysit with you.”
“Okay. I’ll let you change his poopie pants.”
Tiffany wrinkled up her nose. “Yuck.”
The saleswoman set curling mascara, two tubes of pink and rose lip gloss, and a clear cube with a pot of bright blue color in the center.
“Is your daddy going to be okay with that blue eye shadow?” Adele asked the thirteen-year-old.
Tiffany nodded and whipped out Zach’s Platinum American Express card. “He won’t mind.”
At six-fifteen, Zach stood on the porch of Sherilyn’s condo wearing a bulky hooded sweatshirt. Gray November sky bathed him in a slight shadow and, like always, the sight of him did funny things to her insides.
“Hello, Adele.”
“Tiffany,” she called over her shoulder, “your daddy’s here.” She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “I need to talk to you.”
He looked down at her, his expression carefully blank. “If it’s about what happened in the bathroom, I think it’s pretty safe to say that we both got carried away and…”
“It’s not about that.” She took his arm and pulled him down the steps. He’d once told her that he was a human furnace, and he was right. Warmth radiated from him and heated up her hand and forearm. “There’s something more important for us to talk about than what happened in the bathroom.” After they’d returned home from Dillard’s she’d thought about Tiffany’s concerns about her body, and the more she thought about it, the more she’d figured she should talk to Zach. “Tiffany told me that she’s afraid that she’ll never get her period and she’ll grow a mustache.”
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he turned to face her. “She told you all that?”
Adele nodded and let go of his arm. “I thought you should know she talked to me about it.”
“She mentioned something about it the other day.” He looked down into her eyes. “But she didn’t mention the mustache.”
“Evidently she saw something on TV that’s freaked her out.” Adele shrugged with one shoulder. “I’m sure she’s just a late bloomer. Devon was small.”
“Her momma was tiny, so maybe.”
Tiny and petite and beautiful. Adele looked away and folded her arms against the chill. She wore a long-sleeved shirt, but it wasn’t enough protection against the cool night air. “She asked me questions about Devon.”
They walked side by side down the walk toward his silver Escalade. “What questions?”
“What she was like in high school. Stuff like that.”
“What did you tell her?”
Adele glanced up at him and said flatly, “I lied.”
“About?”
“I told Tiffany that Devon was wonderful and everyone loved her.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought he smiled with one corner of his mouth. “I take it not everyone thought she was wonderful.”
Adele stopped at the curb. “No. Not everyone did.”
He shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt and looked over her head as if he was distracted by something going on across the street. “Thank you. I know that Devon wasn’t your favorite person.”
“No.” She glanced behind her, but no one was out and about but her and Zach. “She made my life hell.”
“You weren’t the only one.”
She wondered if Devon had made Zach’s life hell, too. “No matter what I think of Devon, or of you, Tiffany seems like a nice girl. She’s been really sweet to Kendra at a very difficult time in my niece’s life.”
“Tiffany
Adele nodded. “I lost my mother when I was ten, so I know how she feels.”
“That’s right. You told me that at UT.” His gaze slid to her mouth and down the front of her shirt. His voice got really low, his drawl more pronounced when he said, “I’ve got something for you.”
She didn’t think she wanted to know what he had for her. It might be something she hadn’t had in a long time. Something she really wanted but really shouldn’t want. She frowned to cover up her confusion. “Grow up, Zach.”
He looked at her for several moments, then said, “Sweetheart, you have a dirty mind.”
She placed a hand on her chest. “Me?” Before she could respond further, the front door opened, and Tiffany moved from the porch and down the steps.
“You ready?” Zach asked, the hot lazy drawl gone from his voice.
“Yep.” Tiffany hung her backpack over one shoulder and opened the Cadillac’s passenger door. “Thanks for taking me to Dillard’s.”
“You’re welcome.” She placed her hand on Tiffany’s shoulder. “And just remember something. Being a late bloomer might suck right now, but when you’re thirty, you’ll look twenty-five, and all your friends will be jealous.”
For the first time in years, Zach dreamed of Devon. In the dream, he was back at UT, walking alone from the tunnel at Texas Memorial Stadium. The sound of his cleats echoed off the concrete and the helmet in his hand bumped his thigh. His footsteps slowed, then stopped as he noticed Devon standing at the big gaping entrance wearing the Chanel suit he’d buried her in.
“Hello, Zach.”
A heavy, suffocating weight settled in his chest.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“Why are you here?”
She flipped her blond hair and leveled her green gaze on him. “I’m pregnant.” She smiled and placed a hand on her flat stomach. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
