She took a sip of coffee to hide her smile. “I don’t care why you’re doing it. I’m just happy you found something to be excited about.”
“Who says I’m excited?”
My mother glanced at the wall clock, then picked up her newspaper again. “No one, darling. Have a nice day.”
I rolled my eyes, but even my mother’s playful patronizing couldn’t dampen my spirits. It was true, I was excited.
As I drove toward town, I realized I hadn’t felt a spark like this since I left New York. Sure, baseball was fun, and I was good at it, but I was never going to go pro. Maybe college ball if I hadn’t messed up my ankle, but not now.
It had devastated me at first, but I was adjusting to my new reality. Besides, it was music that had always owned my heart. Unfortunately, thanks to my father’s prevalent position in the industry, I childishly refuted it—until now.
I didn’t know why I was making an exception for Layne. Maybe it was because without baseball I was just bored. Whatever the reason, I decided not to overanalyze things too much. I rather liked the weightless feeling in my chest. It probably wouldn’t last, but that was even more reason to enjoy it while I could.
When the coffee shop came into view, my GPS app told me to turn, but I decided to make a last-minute detour. No sense showing up emptyhanded if I didn’t have to.
I pulled up in front of a white two-story duplex. A small yard with drab-looking grass led up to a weathered porch with two doors. I frowned and double checked the address I’d looked up on my phone. It didn’t mention whether Layne lived in unit A or B.
Well, I guess I had a fifty-fifty chance.
I left Scarlet’s warm interior and faced the blustery late March morning head on. At least the two coffee cups warmed my hands. I decided to go for door A. There was a yellow porch swing on that side and I could picture Layne sitting there in the summer with her guitar and songbook.
I rang the doorbell and a thundering of footsteps and voices followed.
“I’ll get it!”
“Robby, wait for me.”
The door sprung open and I was met with the chocolate-covered face of a blue-eyed little boy. “Hello,” he greeted.
“Hi,” I said. “Is, er, Layne here?”
The little boy gave me an impish grin then turned around, leaving me standing in the open doorway as he ran back into the house, his sing-songy voice trailing behind him. “Layyy-ne! Your boyyy-friend is here!”
Layne’s face popped out of the room where the little boy had disappeared. Her mouth fell open and she dropped the red dishtowel she’d been holding.
“Morning,” I said, still standing in the doorway.
Layne’s mouth clamped shut and she marched toward me. “Wyatt, what are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you, too,” I teased, but Layne didn’t seem to be in the mood for my humor.
Instead of inviting me in, she put a hand on my chest and pushed me back onto the porch, pulling the door half shut behind her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill.
“I figured I’d give you a ride to school.”
“School doesn’t start for another hour,” she argued.
“Right, but I didn’t know what time you caught the bus and I didn’t want to miss you.”
She cocked her head, frowning as though she sensed an ulterior motive.
I huffed a dry laugh. “You’re really not a morning person, are you?”
“I like mornings just fine. I just don’t like surprises.”
“Ah, I think what you mean to say is, ‘oh Wyatt how thoughtful of you to offer me a ride to school. Please won’t you come in’?”
She scowled at me. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I didn’t say you did. Now are you going to invite me in, or not? It’s freezing out here.”
Layne sighed and finally stepped back inside, opening the door to let me in. She appraised my thin leather jacket with wary eyes. “Why don’t guys ever wear proper jackets?”
I shrugged. “Why don’t women ever wear practical shoes? The world is full of mysteries.”
“I wear practical shoes,” she muttered looking down at her red Converse.
Just then the little boy burst back into the foyer, even more chocolate covering his face. “Layyy-ne has a boyyy-friend!”
“Robby!” Layne snapped. “Go finish your breakfast.”