The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,33
a boy walking next to her? And when had he gotten so tall? She practically had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. Probably came in handy for seeing over all those players on the field.
“Good game, by the way,” she said, even though she barely knew the difference between a first down and a touchdown. The team had won, and everyone seemed happy.
He shook his head. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t lose my starting spot. Don’t know what was wrong with me tonight. I couldn’t throw it in the ocean.” She could feel him looking at her.
“What?” she said, suddenly afraid. Maybe she should have taken Camille’s warning more to heart.
Josh stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Cars whipped by on the street, kids honking and yelling in celebration of the victory. “I think you were what was wrong with me tonight.”
Her breath froze in her chest. The dim glow of the streetlight lit the firm angle of his jaw. “What did I do?” She hated the breathless sound of her voice.
He laughed. “You showed up.”
“Josh—”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Even if I messed you up?” She couldn’t resist saying it.
He shrugged the sports bag off his shoulder and let it fall to the ground. “I should have been expecting it.”
“Expecting what?”
“You always mess me up.”
“Josh, what are you talking about?” He moved closer, and she could hear a strange buzzing in her ears.
“This.”
And then right there on the sidewalk, with cars driving by and in full view of everyone in Sweetgum, he kissed her.
And Hannah Simmons, for the first time in her life, decided to believe that dreams really might come true after all.
Later that evening, inside Tallulah’s Café, Camille stood at the hostess stand and surveyed the crowd of people. She tried to look nonchalant, but every nerve stood on end with heightened awareness. The high school kids were no doubt crowded into the Dairy Dip, but all the adults in town were here at the café—parents, teachers, old coots who themselves had once battled for glory on the gridiron. More than a few heads turned to look at her standing there by the entrance.
“Evening, Camille.” Tallulah appeared beside her. Her bright blue eyes contrasted with the deep wrinkles in her tan face. No one knew the older woman’s age with any certainty, but she had to be more than seventy, given how long the café had been in operation.
“How are you, Tallulah?”
“Fine as frog’s hair.” She picked up a menu. “Is it just you?”
“Actually, I’m meeting someone.”
Camille had to give the older woman credit for showing no surprise. “Two then.” Tallulah grabbed another menu. “Table or booth?”
Camille hesitated. A table meant their conversation would be overheard by half of the restaurant, but a booth would look like she and Dante were on a date.
“Booth please,” she finally said, deciding that as long as she knew it was just a meal shared by two old friends, that was all that mattered.
“This way.” Tallulah motioned for Camille to follow her. “I’ll put you back here in the corner.”
Before Camille could request a less secluded spot, Tallulah headed off and Camille had no choice but to follow. She was just slipping into the vinyl seat when she heard a commotion at the doorway. She looked up to see Dante coming into the café. As if on cue, everyone broke into applause.
“Way to go, coach,” a man called from the other side of the room.
“On to state!” another one hollered.
Dante smiled and nodded, raised a hand in acknowledgment. “Thank you, folks. But we’ve still got a long way to go. Just keep cheering for us.”
He looked around then, searching for her. Camille lifted her hand—not high in the air, just enough for him to see her. His smiled grew wider, and he headed toward her, stopping here and there to accept more congratulations along the way. When he finally made it to the booth, to her surprise he slid in next to her rather than taking the seat opposite.
“Thanks for waiting,” he said, settling in, his shoulder rubbing against hers.
She was already scrunched over as far as she could go, so she couldn’t avoid the contact. The sensation, though, wasn’t unpleasant. Oh, who was she kidding? It was all she could do not to lean her head over and rest it on his shoulder.
“No problem. I’ve only been here a couple minutes. Merry wanted to drop her daughter off at a party before she brought me.”