Authors: Jean C. Gordon
“You ditching practice, too?” Tom asked, eyeing the score sheet with their averages on the table behind him.
“The way I bowled last week, I’d better not.”
“You’ve got that right.”
Eli stepped down to the lane. Tom was a serious bowler. Eli enjoyed the sport, win or lose. He took his shot and hit the head pin dead-on, leaving a pin standing in the back row on either side of the lane—a seven-ten split. He moved aside to let the next bowler take the pickup shot.
Tom waved him back. “You need practice on this shot more than I do.”
All right. He had shot more than his share of splits last week. Tom didn’t have to remind him. He stepped up and put exactly the right curve on the ball so that it struck the ten pin on the right side and kicked it to the left. Eli held his breath. Not enough. The ten pin rolled back off the lane without hitting the seven.
“Wow! I thought you had it.” Jamie placed her cheeseburger and drink on the table overlooking the lane.
Tom cut short Eli’s enjoyment of Jamie’s compliment. “You should have gotten behind it more.”
Eli bristled. “I know.” He didn’t need Tom telling him how to bowl. Or was it that he didn’t need Tom telling him how to bowl in front of Jamie?
The sixty-second countdown to the end of practice ticked off.
“You’ve got time for another ball,” Tom urged.
Eli glanced back at Jamie, who was engrossed in her burger, before stepping to the line. He sighted his ball and threw. Another split. The counter hit zero, signaling the end of practice.
“Too fast,” Tom said.
Eli frowned at the ball return. Tom’s helpful advice might make for a long night.
“Jamie, I have you up first,” Karen said.
She put her food down and wiped her hands with a wet wipe she’d found in her bag and dried them with a napkin. Then she picked up her ball and with a smooth, graceful delivery, she shot a strike.
“Way to go!” Eli boomed, moving to the edge of the molded plastic seat. He stopped himself from leaping up when he saw the members of the other team looking at him. Hey, there was nothing wrong with cheering on a teammate.
Jamie turned and beamed at him. Well, at everyone. And his heart skipped a beat.
“Nice one,” Karen said.
Tom gave her a high five.
Eli rose for his turn. He felt Jamie’s eyes on him as he bent to lift his ball and grabbed the towel instead. He wiped his hand and held it over the fan for a couple of seconds before picking up the ball. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he shot. The ball curved directly toward the head pin, and his spirits sank as he waited for the split. With a loud crash, the pins all flew down. A strike.
Tom patted his back as he sat. “Just like I told you to do.”
Behind him, the rattle of ice in a cup didn’t quite muffle a distinctive snort.
The second through eighth frames were more of the same. Jamie and Eli shot strikes. On the ninth frame the bowling alley went quiet when Jamie rose for her turn. She aimed, took two steps of her approach and stopped. She started over. Eli held his breath as her perfect-looking ball left the seven-pin standing.
A collective “Aw” rolled through the bowling alley.
“It’s still the best game I’ve ever bowled,” she said as she waited for her ball to return.
“You can pick it up,” Eli said, surprised at how confident he was she would and how much he wanted her to.
She lifted her ball to him and smiled. He relaxed back in his seat and watched her throw the spare.
“Nice one,” one of the guys on the other team said before Eli could. Eli’s jaw tightened when she smiled at the guy.
“Your turn,” Tom said as he finished his frame.
Again the lanes turned nerve-rackingly quiet. Nothing like pouring on the pressure. What did it matter? He didn’t have to get a strike. He was a twenty-first-century guy. He didn’t need to beat Jamie. But a voice in the back of his head said, “You’d like to impress her.”
As soon as he released his ball, he knew it was off. The center pins fell, leaving the ten-pin standing and seven pin wobbling. He grabbed the towel and dried his hands. When he turned back, the seven had fallen. Not his best side, but he could pick off the seven a whole lot easier than he could have aced the split. He took his best shot and closed his eyes like a novice bowler until he heard the impact.
“Good work,” Tom said. “You didn’t let her get ahead.”
Karen and Jamie skewered him from either side with razor-sharp glares.
“What?” Tom asked.
The comedy of it drained the tension that had been building in Eli. Part of him had the same fervor to beat Jamie that Tom had expressed. The other part wanted to simply enjoy the competition.
As Jamie readied herself for the first ball of the tenth frame, someone slurred, “You can do it, honey,” from the vicinity of the bar.
Eli half rose to locate the speaker and tell him to be quiet.
Tom touched his arm. “It’s not worth it.”
Eli started to say he was just stretching. “You’re right. But I don’t have to like it.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it. Jamie is a very attractive woman.”
Eli realized that this was the first time he’d agreed with Tom all night.
The crack of pins pulled Eli’s attention back to Jamie. She’d thrown another strike. He leaped up and cheered, not caring who saw or what—he glanced sideways at Tom—they might think. Jamie was his teammate.
Her next ball left two pins standing. He held his hands in his lap and closed his eyes as she released her last shot.
“Praying for her to spare or miss?” Tom asked.
“Neither.” Eli frowned at him and caught Jamie’s shot knocking down one pin and leaving the other standing.
She turned and jumped up and down clapping. “I can’t believe it. Wait until I tell the kids my score.” Both teams gathered around Jamie to congratulate her.
Eli measured whether he could slip by them and quietly finish his game. He slid from the chair.
“Eli, sorry.” Jamie moved off the lane, excitement still radiating from her in waves. “I got carried away. I’ve never bowled like that before.”
“Enjoy it. You bowled a great game.”
She accepted the hand he offered in congratulations and he marveled at how small and soft hers felt in his. Too soon, she finished the handshake and let go of his hand. “Now, let’s see what you can do.”
He breathed deeply through his nose and blew his breath out his mouth to relax his tensed muscles. This was ridiculous. It was only a game, not even a competitive game. He lifted his ball from the return and weighed it in his hands.
It’s only a game.
He made his approach and threw. The ball rolled off his hand and spun directly toward the right pocket and right by it to hit the headpin. He didn’t have to wait until the pins cleared. A seven-ten split.
“Tough luck,” Tom said.
Eli frowned. It wasn’t as if he’d never made this spare. He had. Once. He could again. Or, he could pick off the seven pin and leave it a tie. He grabbed his ball. Might as well get it over with.
His approach was smooth. The ball hugged the right gutter causing a gasp from somewhere behind him and veered toward the left as it reached the ten pin. With a crack, the pin flew to the left, landed shy of the seven pin and spun around to knock it down.
“You did it!” Jamie’s voice rose above the others.
He turned. She grinned.
He admired her sportsmanship. “But I beat you.”
“We’re teammates. It’s the overall pins that count. And, I don’t know about you, but I think we’re going to need some more help from our other teammates next week.” She looked directly at Tom.
Eli concentrated on picking up his ball from the return to hide the grin on his face.
“I know I can’t be counted on to duplicate tonight every week,” Jamie said.
He got his mirth under control. “Me neither.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tom said. “Knock it off. I knew you were going to pick up the spare. I was encouraging you.”
“Right! And if I encouraged the students who come into the guidance office that way, the district would see an uptick in its dropout rate.”
Tom laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Nice game.” Several of the other bowlers interrupted their good-natured banter to congratulate Jamie and Eli.
“You two are good together,” one of their opposing team members said.
Eli gazed over at Jamie talking with Karen. They were good together. But apparently only when there were no kids involved and the conversation didn’t veer to anything church- or military-related.
* * *
Jamie rose and reached for her coat. She’d had a really nice time tonight, and it wasn’t only the exhilaration of bowling her best game ever. It was the company, too, including Eli. She hadn’t even had to project his face on the pins.
“Got a minute?” he asked. “The snack bar is still open. We could have a celebratory soda or hot chocolate.”
“I can’t. I have to pick up Myles, and I told the sitter I’d be back before ten.”
He checked his watch. “Okay.”
Did she detect a note of disappointment in his voice?
“Then what time do you want me to come over tomorrow?”
“Excuse me?”
He picked up her ball bag for her. “To work on your heating system.”
She reached for the bag.
“I’ll carry it out to your car. Mom said Saturday was a good day to come over.”
Opal. It had to have been the conversation she’d had with Leah.
His eyes lit with understanding. “You didn’t talk with my mother. You don’t need my help.”
“No, but Opal talked with your mother.”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Thanks anyway. Myles and I already replaced the valve.”
“And I assume you didn’t ask my mother to ask me to reconsider taking the girls to their dinner-dance at school?”
“No.” They walked to the door. She pushed it open and held it for him, since his hands were full.
He pressed his shoulder against the door as if to let her enter first.
“Go ahead.”
He hesitated, then moved around her, filling the doorway. They stepped into the cold night air.
“I can’t believe her.” He strode across the front of the parking lot to her vehicle parked at the far end of the building. “I cancelled my usual Saturday morning workout with the trainer at the gym because Mom said she’d promised you.”
She unlocked the door. “Promised Opal is more likely. I’m sure your mother meant well.” Jamie reached to take her bowling bag from Eli.
“I know.” He handed it over, opened the back door and leaned against the back quarter panel.
She put the bag on the floor. “If you’re in need of something to do, you could come over and help Myles and me lay fiberglass insulation in the attic.”
“I could do that. What time do you want me there?”
Jamie straightened. “I was kind of kidding.”
He pushed away from the vehicle. “I’m almost as good at laying insulation as I am at heating repairs.”
She laughed. “Why don’t you come over about nine?”
“I’ll be there.” He whistled as he walked back up the line of cars to his double-cab truck.
Jamie climbed into her vehicle and stared at the giant bowling pin painted on the side of the bowling alley. Had she really just invited Eli over to her house for the day?
Chapter Seven
A
t the sound of the car pulling in to the driveway, Scooby started barking and raced to the door. Jamie glanced at her watch. Nine o’clock. Eli was right on time, not that she’d expect otherwise. She stopped in front of the mirror on the dining room wall, fluffed her hair and smoothed her soft lavender-colored sweater over her favorite jeans.
“Did you forget to comb your hair?” Opal asked, coming up behind her.
“No.” She’d not only washed and blow-dried her hair, she’d also put on makeup and her favorite earrings. No harm in looking nice, even if she wasn’t going anywhere special.
Rose looked up from the cereal she was finishing. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
“Mommy!” Opal called from the living room. “It’s Mr. Payton.”
“Remember what we talked about,” Jamie warned.
She’d discussed Eli’s coming over with her daughter at breakfast and laid down the law about Opal not bothering Eli to take her and Rose to the dinner-dance. Opal had cheerfully agreed, while spooning down two bowls of her favorite cereal, rousing suspicion that the child hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
The house phone rang as she started toward the living room. She picked it up from the sideboard and checked the caller ID. It was Rose’s scout leader. “Hello.”
“Jamie? I’m glad I caught you before you left. Could you pick Katy up on your way over? Her dad’s car won’t start.”
“No problem. I’m trying to get the girls going now.”
“Thanks. See you in a bit.”
“Bye.” Jamie carried the phone to the living room to put it back in the charger.
“She’s in the other room fixing her hair.” Opal’s voice carried into the dining room. “She put on her date-night earrings.”
Jamie stopped in the doorway and touched her right earlobe. What had possessed her to put on the sapphire earrings John had given her for their twelfth anniversary, the last they’d had together? She was going to spend the day insulating the attic.
Opal chattered on. “And mascara and the sweater we gave her for Christmas. It’s the first time she’s worn it.”
“Opal.”
The little girl jerked her head around. “What? I’m not bothering Mr. Payton about taking me to the dance. And Rose told me those were your date-night earrings. I was just telling Mr. Payton.”
Eli’s facial muscles worked, as if he was struggling to contain his grin.
“Go tell your brother Mr. Payton is here to start the attic. And you and Rose need to get ready.”
Opal dragged herself from the room.
“I’ll take your coat.” She took his ski jacket, ignoring the glint of humor in his eyes, and hung it in the closet. “Myles should be right down. I need to run Rose and Opal over to Rose’s scout leader’s house.”
Jamie turned to see the glint dim. It looked like her comment about leaving had quashed any idea he might have gotten from Opal that she’d dressed up for him, even if she subconsciously had.