Stuck in the Middle, page 9
Tori’s eyelids narrowed a fraction. She looked like she was about to say something else when Mom broke into the awkward moment.
“Eric will be here any minute, and then we can eat. Tori, do you want water or iced tea with dinner?”
Tori tore her eyes away from Joan with obvious effort. “Water’s fine.”
Gram stood. “You young people sit here and talk while I get things on the table. No, no.” She waved away Joan’s offer before it was spoken. “Carla and I can handle it. You girls entertain our guest.”
Joan looked toward Allie, who was trying to communicate something with eyebrow flashes and nearly imperceptible nods. Too late, Joan realized what instruction she was being given. Tori stepped around the coffee table and took Gram’s place beside Ken. Allie rolled her eyes and dropped into the recliner.
“So,” Tori said as they all settled into their seats, “how do you like Danville?”
Ken turned on the sofa, displaying the back of his head to Joan. Anxiety tightened her jaw. She had to do something to make him shift his body toward her.
“I think I’m going to like it. It’s definitely different than Indianapolis.”
“Indianapolis.” When Joan spoke, Ken turned politely her way. Much better. “I thought you were from Cincinnati.”
“That’s where I did my residency, but Indianapolis is where I grew up.”
Tori asked, “And do you have family there?”
When Ken turned back to answer, Joan ground her teeth. Tori made it impossible to keep him facing this way.
“My sister and her husband and my nephew live just outside the city, not far from where we lived as kids. They’re both attorneys.”
Two attorneys and a doctor in the family? His parents must be thrilled. Joan spoke again. “The only thing I know about Indianapolis is what I see on the sports channel. Are you a racing fan?”
He turned toward her again. At the rate his head was whipping back and forth, the poor guy was going to need a chiropractor before the evening ended. Joan made eye contact and smiled.
“I’m not.” He shrugged. “Actually, I’ve never even been to the speedway.”
Tori giggled, a charming sound. And a bit practiced, to Joan’s ear. “Just like most Kentuckians have never been to Churchill Downs or seen the Kentucky Derby in person.”
This time when Ken turned toward Tori, she leaned sideways slightly. Definitely inside his hula hoop. Joan threw a quick glance at Allie, who was chewing on a fingernail as she watched the two on the couch.
Behind Joan, the front door opened and Eric announced his arrival with a cheerful, “I hope supper’s ready, because I’m starved.”
“There’s my knight in shining armor.” Allie heaved herself out of the recliner and hurried to meet Eric on the top step.
He kissed her and then bent over to speak to her belly. “How are my girls today?”
The corners of Ken’s mouth curved into a tender smile as he watched the couple. He rose from the couch and rounded the coffee table with his hand extended toward Eric. Maybe it was her imagination, but he seemed eager to escape the sofa.
Eric shook it. “Good to see you, Ken.”
“Thanks. You too.”
“Wow!” Eric caught sight of Joan and Tori. He stood with his mouth agape, his gaze volleying between them. “Would you look at you two? What’s the special occa—ouch!”
Allie smiled sweetly up at her husband as though she had not just elbowed him in the ribs. She announced to the room, “I think dinner is on the table.”
“It is indeed,” sang Gram from the dining room. “Come on, everyone.”
As Ken followed Allie and Eric around the partial wall that separated the living room from the kitchen and dining area, Joan reached over and picked up his untouched tea glass.
“Nice outfit,” Tori whispered, one eyebrow higher than the other.
“Yours too,” Joan answered. “The dress code at your office must have changed drastically.”
Joan returned her little sister’s stare. After a moment, Tori gave a single, nearly imperceptible nod. The competition had been acknowledged. Nerves tickled the pit of Joan’s stomach. Why did she have to look so good in that black suit?
“Are you girls coming?” Gram stood waiting in the doorway.
“On our way.” Joan skirted the coffee table on one side as Tori went around the other. In the dining room, Ken stood behind his chair at one end of the table, Eric at the opposite end, waiting for the ladies to be seated. Tori went to sit on Ken’s right. Joan placed the tea glass in front of his plate and stood before her own chair on his left.
“Thanks.” He nodded down at her.
He’s not smiling. Do something! Do the hair thing.
Joan made brief eye contact with him and tossed her head with the gesture she had practiced. Her hair flipped expertly behind her shoulder, and her earrings dangled.
A crease formed between Ken’s eyebrows as he returned her smile with a polite one of his own. Somehow Joan didn’t think the gesture had the effect she’d hoped for. He didn’t lean away from her, but he didn’t seem all that enchanted by it, either.
On the other hand, across the table Tori’s eyes were perfect circles. And Allie gave her an approving nod. Seated beside Eric, Mom stared, her eyebrows disappearing beneath her bangs.
Gram crossed the short distance from the kitchen counter to place a basket of steaming rolls in the center of the table. She was in her element entertaining a guest for dinner. Thank goodness Joan hadn’t seen even a hint of weird behavior tonight, no alphabetizing, no fork fiddling.
She sat in the chair between Joan and Mom and beamed at everyone as the men also took their seats. “Now we’re ready. Ken, would you be comfortable asking the blessing?”
“Absolutely.”
He bowed his head, and everyone else did likewise.
“Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for new friends, and for this evening of fellowship. We ask that you guide our conversations, and that they’ll be pleasing to you. We thank you for this food and ask your blessing on it, and on the hands that prepared it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Amen.” Mom reached for the rolls and offered the basket to Eric. “Ken, you sound as though you’re no stranger to prayer. Do you go to church?”
“Yes, ma’am, since I was a boy.”
“We’d love to have you join us sometime,” Gram said. “We go to Christ Community Church, down by the college.”
Ken’s eyes brightened. “I’d like that. I’ve been meaning to find a church here in town, but so far the job has kept me pretty focused.”
“What about this Sunday?” Tori held the platter of roast and batted her lashes at him while he took a piece. “We usually leave around 9:45 to get there in time for Sunday school.”
Joan wanted to roll her eyes. Tori hadn’t gone to church with them in months!
“That sounds great.”
He offered Joan the roast, and she took her time selecting a piece. When she finished, she placed the platter in front of Gram where it started, her mind whirling. She had to say something to keep him turned in her direction. “Where do your parents live, Ken?”
He lowered his eyes to his plate and shook his head. “They don’t. They were killed in a car accident when I was a kid. It’s just my sister and me.”
He looked so sad Joan felt a flash of sympathy. They had something in common. She’d lost a father too, though not to death. And while she didn’t always get along with her mother, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. She touched his arm briefly. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked up and caught her gaze with his. “Thanks.” Joan looked away and saw Allie’s wide grin. What? Oh! She’d touched his arm. That was one of the things Allie told her to do. She’d done it automatically, out of sympathy, but apparently it was the right move. She straightened in her chair. Maybe Allie was right. Maybe some of this stuff was instinctive.
“So you’re an orphan?” Tori’s voice dripped sorrow. “That must have been so hard for a teenage boy.”
As she spoke, Tori placed a hand on Ken’s other arm and kept it there. She had skipped the brief touch phase and gone straight for the long touch. A bold move, even for her. She must be feeling uneasy with the competition. The thought made Joan happy, and she took a sip of her water to hide her smirk.
As Tori’s hand continued to rest on his arm, Ken’s smile suddenly seemed pasted on. He nodded, and then leaned back in his chair. He reached for his napkin with that arm, which forced Tori to release her hold. Joan cast a triumphant glance toward Allie, who returned it.
“So tell me about your church,” he said as he picked up his fork. “What sort of service do you have?”
“Oh, it’s really traditional.” Tori’s voice sounded too bright, as though she realized her mistake with the arm thing.
Gram nodded. “We’re old fashioned, but that’s the way I like it. None of that newfangled music for me.” She peered at Ken. “I suppose you like that loud stuff?”
Ken laughed. “My church back home is pretty contemporary. Drums and guitars and everything.”
Joan tore a bite off her roll. “If anyone brought a drum into our church, they’d be playing to an empty house.” Ken gave her a startled glance, and she shrugged. “Most of the congregation is elderly.”
“As long as the focus is on God,” Ken said, “the style of the music is irrelevant.”
An awkward silence fell on the table. Ken must be pretty religious. Something about the way he spoke reminded her of Mary Alice Sachs, the missionary lady. Joan shifted in her seat, and noticed that Tori seemed intent on her plate. At the other end of the table, a glance passed between Allie and Eric. Time to change the subject, before Eric went off on a tirade about churches being a leech on society. That always upset Gram.
Allie rescued the conversation. “So, Ken, how does our little hospital here compare to the one in Cincinnati where you did your residency?”
“It’s a lot smaller, of course. But that’s alright with me. The staff is great, especially the nurses.” He smiled toward Mom. “I think once I get used to the procedures I’m going to like it. I’ve had my share of crises in the past three years, so I’m looking forward to treating small-town emergencies.”
“Trust me,” said Eric, “you’ll get your share of shootings and stabbings. We’ve even had some gang activity in the past few years.”
“That’s right, you’re a dispatcher.” Ken bit into his roll.
Eric nodded. “I’m the one who sends them your way.”
“Actually,” Ken said, “I treated a kid the other night who seems to be hanging with a rough crowd.”
“Oh, please.” Tori shook her head. “Danville doesn’t have near as much crime as Lexington, where I live.”
“Really? So why do you want to live there?”
Ken turned his head to look at Tori, but as he did so he leaned away from her. Which meant he was leaning toward Joan. Thrilled, Joan cast around in her mind for one of Allie’s gestures. A hair flip didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. And she couldn’t risk an arm touch after Tori’s disastrous attempt.
A hint of pink colored Tori’s cheeks as she gazed at him with round blue eyes. “Because of everything a bigger town has to offer. Malls and museums, the opera house.”
“I miss having those things nearby,” Joan admitted, and Ken turned to face her. She leaned ever so slightly toward him, her eyes locked onto his.
His gaze dropped to his plate, and he leaned away. Drat! She’d invaded his hula hoop. Frustration turned the good food to acid in Joan’s stomach. She’d never master this flirting thing. The only consolation was that Tori didn’t seem to be having any better luck with him than she was.
“I like this town,” Gram said. “I hate to see it grow any bigger. If I want shopping malls and museums, I’ll have Joan or Carla drive me to Lexington.”
Ken turned a smile on her. “You and I are in complete agreement, Mrs. Hancock. That’s why I chose Danville.”
Gram leaned toward Ken, which meant she leaned near Joan. She tilted her white head and displayed a dimple to rival Tori’s. Seated between them, Joan saw her make eye contact with Ken.
“Please call me Grace.”
Ken’s smile deepened, and he leaned forward in his chair as he spoke. “Yes, ma’am, Grace.”
A blush colored her cheeks and she looked down coyly, then back up at him. Joan’s jaw slackened. Gram was flirting with Ken! And judging by the look on his face, he liked it. She looked at Allie, whose chin dropped to her chest as she slowly shook her head from side to side.
Ken blotted his lips with his napkin. The dinner had been delicious, but this evening was not as enjoyable as he had hoped. True, Joan looked absolutely amazing. He suspected her outfit was new, and it pleased him that she would buy clothes for an evening with him. But she was acting strangely. And what was going on between her and Tori?
“Grace, that was a fantastic dinner. I could get addicted to those rolls.”
“They’re my specialty.” The old lady grinned. “Whenever my husband and I had a spat, I always made rolls for him. He loved them, and that was my way of letting him know I was ready to make up.”
Ken stood when Gram did and picked up his empty plate. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to spat with you.”
Her eyes twinkled at him. “You are a smooth talker, young man.”
Beside him, Joan stood abruptly, and Tori did likewise. “You’re our guest,” Joan said as she took the plate from his hands.
“That’s right,” agreed Tori. “You go into the living room with Eric and watch a boring old ball game or something while the women clean up.”
She batted her eyelashes as she cleared his bread plate and utensils. Ken returned her smile politely, and stepped backward so she had a clear path to get to the kitchen. She held his eyes as she walked by.
Tori was cute, without a doubt. But what a little flirt! Ken had never felt comfortable around girls like her. He always felt a little sorry for women who needed to behave so outrageously to get a man’s attention. He much preferred easygoing girls, ones who were maybe a touch shy.
Just then Joan returned from setting a stack of plates on the kitchen counter. She walked over to him and stood so close he got a whiff of her hair. She smelled good. None of that fake perfumy stuff, but a clean, sporty smell. Smiling, she tossed her head, which sent her hair flying over one shoulder. Discomfort settled in Ken’s stomach. A different gesture than her sister, but it felt the same as Tori’s eyelash batting. The smile on his face went stiff as he edged sideways away from her and escaped to the living room where Eric had claimed the recliner and the remote control. Until tonight, he had gotten the impression that Joan was a confident, no-nonsense sort of girl. But that sure wasn’t coming through tonight. Who was the real Joan Sanderson?
“What is going on between you two?”
Mom’s voice was low enough not to be heard over the television by those in the living room, but a note of concern came through loud and clear. Joan picked up the platter of pot roast from the table and placed it on the kitchen counter. Beside her, Tori grabbed the broccoli casserole and did likewise.
In front of the sink, Allie turned on the faucet. “Pretty obvious, isn’t it? They’re making a play for the same guy.”
“They’re making fools of themselves.” Mom gave them each a stern look. “You’ve made the poor man so uncomfortable he looks ready to bolt.”
“Well, it’s Joan’s fault,” Tori hissed, her blue eyes narrowed to slits.
“Shhh!” Joan pointed toward the living room. “He’ll hear you!”
Allie wore a wide smile as she squirted detergent into the water. It looked to Joan like her older sister was getting a little too much enjoyment out of the show. Whereas Gram, who stood looking from one of them to the other, had deep worry lines creasing her forehead.
“Outside,” Mom whispered in a voice that brooked no argument. “Both of you.”
Joan found herself being shooed through the back door, Tori right behind her. Moist evening heat slapped her in the face, a shock from the air-conditioning, as the cloying odor of Gram’s rosebushes replaced the yeasty smell of rolls inside the house. Mom followed them onto the wood deck and closed the door. Joan turned to find Tori glaring at her, arms folded across her chest.
“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me.” Joan pointed a finger in her sister’s face. “This is your fault for being such a little flirt.”
Tori slapped a hand to her chest. “My fault? You’re the one who horned in on my dinner.”
“Horned in? I live here, remember? You’re the one who practically stalked the guy to find out when he had a day off so you could play like a princess in a happy family scene.”
Her eyes slitted. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who bought True Religion.”
“Like you didn’t go out and buy that?” Joan shielded her eyes from the setting sun as her gaze dropped to Tori’s suit. “It’s so new it still smells like the mall.”
Tori’s chin shot into the air. “For your information, this didn’t come from the mall. It came from a very exclusive shop downtown that you can’t even afford to walk into.”
Joan gasped an outraged breath. “Oh no? Well, maybe I’ve got too much sense to spend my money on an outfit that makes me look like Professional Barbie.”
Tori’s arms dropped to her sides, her hands clenched into fists. Her chest heaved as she drew breath to fire back a retort when Mom stepped between them.
“Girls, that’s enough.”
“But she—”
“Mom, you don’t—”
“I said that’s enough.”
Mom’s glasses magnified the sternness in her stare, commanding their silence. Joan folded her arms and looked out across the backyard.
“Honestly, with three girls so close together in age, I expected you to fight over boys when you were younger. But look at you! Grown women acting like immature children.”
