The Pick Up Page 3

  “Because moving someplace new is hard. Losing loved ones is harder. And I know Gord would come at least. He said his son only cooks things made of soy.” She wrinkled her nose. “Everyone deserves a good meal.”

  Adam couldn’t argue with that last part. Rebecca had done her best to keep him from starving after he’d moved to Red Creek. It felt awkward to be extending the invitation to Caroline and her father though. Adam didn’t want them to think he and Rebecca were being nosy.

  “That’s not necessary,” he said. “His father lives here, you said it yourself. He probably grew up here. I’m sure it’s not all that bad for them.”

  “Well, you don’t have to come.” The taunting big sister look had returned. “Despite the amount of time you spend in this house, you don’t actually live with us. If you don’t care about Hot Young Daddy Fenton, I’ll schedule them for a night when you’re not around.”

  “He’s not Hot Young—” He bit his tongue. She was baiting him now. “Fine. That’s nice of you, Rebecca. Let me know how it goes.” He put the last pan away in the cupboard above the stove and then went out to the front hall to collect his still damp coat.

  “Where are you going?” Rebecca called from the kitchen.

  “I have to go; I’ve got work to do.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind!” Her voice followed him out the front door. He ground his teeth at her teasing. He didn’t need her matchmaking, and anyway it was a moot point. The school year was nearly over, and then he wouldn’t have to think about Kyle Fenton and his daughter again.

  “Do you ever think about getting a newer model?” Ben asked from under the van’s hood.

  “Don’t say that!” Kyle said. He patted his van’s dented bumper. “Don’t listen to him; he didn’t mean it.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Ben said. “I’m as big a fan of classic cars as anyone, but, with Caroline and all, I mean, aren’t you worried about safety? This thing doesn’t have modern airbags, and the body is fifty percent rust.”

  “Thirty percent!” Kyle said. “And it’s safe enough.”

  Ben swore as he rummaged deep inside the van’s inner workings.

  “But it’s only a matter of time before a couple of my hours on a Friday night aren’t going to be enough to keep her running anymore. You should sell the van for scrap. I could get you a good deal on a newer ride.”

  Except that wasn’t an option, because Ben’s idea of a good deal would cost more than a Princess Amazonia tree hut.

  “We’ll be okay for a while longer. And what would I do with an SUV like yours? Can you imagine? Kirsten and the dealership may have your nuts in a vise, so that you think any vehicle that’s not a Range Rover is a death trap, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to be lining up at the country club anytime soon.”

  “You’d get used to it.” Ben laughed as he wiped his hands on a rag draped over the van’s front headlight. “Give it a try now.”

  Kyle climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The motor coughed once, and then the van roared to life.

  “You, sir, are the best best friend ever!” Kyle hooted.

  “Leave it running for a minute. I want to see how it sounds.” Ben bent to pick up the half-finished beer he had set on the floor earlier. Rain ran in streams down the asphalt and out onto the street as both men stood together at the edge of the garage.

  “This weather needs to stop,” Ben said. “The girls are going stir-crazy, and if I have to hear the opening theme to Princess Amazonia again, I’m moving out.”

  “It’s the same over here.” Kyle took a swig of his own beer. “My dad was humming ‘Save the River’ one morning this week over breakfast. I threatened to call the hospital about a potential epidemic. He might have a crush on Amazonia too.”

  “Well, Amazonia’s a babe, obviously. Kirsten had a funny look on her face when we watched the Prince Arvin shirtless swimming scene the other night though. There’s something going on there,” Ben said. Kyle laughed. Prince Arvin was pretty easy on the eyes too, but Kyle didn’t remember a shirtless swimming scene. He’d have to check it out later.

  They stood in silence for a moment, watching the rain and listening to the roar of the van’s engine.

  “Did you know this was going to be our life? In high school?” Kyle asked.

  “What, beers in the garage and working on cars? Absolutely.”

  Kyle envied his certainty. Ben had always known what he wanted to do. Fix cars. Get married and stay in their hometown.

  “No,” Kyle said. “Princess cartoons, hiding from our daughters.” He didn’t want to knock what Ben had going, but the last month, waking up every morning in his father’s guest room, driving the same streets, seeing the same people, it had all started to get to him. Sometimes he felt like a permanent itch had developed under his skin, and there was nothing he could do to find relief.

  “Pretty much. The van sounds fine.” Ben turned toward the van. “You’ll want to keep an eye on the radiator and the internal temperature. If it overheats too much it’ll—”

  “Seize up. I know. That’s what they told me before. If the van got us across the country, it’s got a few years left.” Kyle ignored the face Ben made as he shut the engine off.

  His phone rang, and he groaned inwardly when he saw who it was. “This is Kyle.”

  “Kyle! We have a problem!”

  “Eva?”

  “Yes it’s Eva, Kyle. I have a problem!” Eva Munro was one of his newer clients. She was a writer who had published her first book, a self-help manual for financial management. “Some troll online gave the book one star.”

  “And?”

  “One star, Kyle! Do you know what that does to the average? I need to stay above four to keep the book visible. I’m down three-tenths right now; it was at four and a half this morning. It’s a disaster!”

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s okay.” He respected everyone’s right to read and like or not like a book, but not when it meant fielding phone calls from panicked writers at . . . He checked his watch. God, it was nearly nine o’clock. His clients knew he was technically only available from eight to eight East Coast time, but that hadn’t stopped Eva from calling at odd hours in the past.

  “I’ll call the publisher in the morning and find out if we can’t squeeze another couple free copies out of them. I’ll do some research and see if there are other reviewers we haven’t contacted who would consider reading it.”

  It took some negotiating, and listening to Eva rant, but eventually they agreed that Kyle would call her in the morning to let her know what the publisher said. He took an extra minute to make notes on his phone after he hung up.

  “So listen,” Ben said as Kyle rejoined him, “I’ve got a pickup basketball game tomorrow afternoon, and we’re short a guy. Do you think you could come?”

  Kyle frowned. “Isn’t the whole point of pickup that you work with whoever’s there?”

  “Well, yeah.” Ben stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We always have the same group of guys. Except this week, Mark’s off on a cruise and Aidan’s kid’s got the flu and his wife won’t let anyone leave the house, so . . .”

  “Ben.” Kyle put on the same voice he used to explain to Caroline why bedtime had to happen every night. “I’ve known you for almost twenty years, and you have always been a terrible liar.”

  “It’s not—” Ben let his eyes wander everywhere around the garage without ever landing on Kyle.

  “Did my dad put you up to this?” Kyle asked.

  Ben examined his shoes. “Maybe.”

  “Do you remember that time in seventh grade where I managed to break my ankle playing scooter hockey?” Kyle asked. Ben had the guts to smile at the memory. “Exactly. I appreciate you and Dad trying to get me involved in stuff, but do you think I, of all people, should be your substitute for pickup basketball?”

  “It’s really relaxed! We play around for an
hour and then go out for a beer. No one’s going to care if you’re not great at it.”

  Kyle shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Someone has to watch Caroline, and my dad’s working tomorrow.”

  “Kirsten could take her. If it’s raining they’re going to stay in and bake or do crafts. Doesn’t matter if it’s two girls or three. And if it’s nice, I think she’s taking them to the park. There’s a spring festival going on, with balloons and face painting. Caroline will love it!”

  Kyle squinted at his friend.

  “Very convenient,” he said. “You’ve got this all organized. You probably cleared it all with my dad and Kirsten. Came up with a list of possible solutions to every reason I have not to go?”

  “Come on, Kyle. You’ve been here a month, and I only ever see you when the girls get together to play or if your van craps out. You spend all your time in this house with that stupid phone attached to your ear. You have to spend some time in the real world before you lose your mind. If all you want to do is pass out Gatorade, I don’t care, but I promised your dad I’d take you out for an afternoon, and that’s what I’m going to do!” He was a little wide-eyed, and his chest heaved.

  “Rehearsed that whole speech, didn’t you?” Kyle asked.

  “Shut up.” Ben’s lips twitched.

  “Fine.” Kyle poked him in the chest. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when our team loses hard, and you have to drive me to the hospital after I break the other ankle!”

  Kyle drove over to Ben’s at noon the next day. The rain had taken a break, and Kirsten and her two daughters were already waiting on the front porch when Kyle pulled into the driveway. Caroline squirmed with excitement.

  “Hang on, Bean,” Kyle called from the front seat. “No undoing your seat belt until the vehicle comes to a full and complete stop.” He gently stepped on the van’s brakes and let it slow until their progress up the last ten feet of the driveway could be measured in inches per hour.

  “Daddy!” Caroline banged her legs against the booster seat and fidgeted with the buckles.

  “Hold tight, we’re almost there. Only another twenty minutes!”

  “Daddy!”

  They stopped in front of Ben’s garage. Caroline unbuckled herself and was out the back before Kyle could get his own door open.

  “Caroline!” There was a flurry of noise and pigtails as Haley, Ben’s four-year-old daughter, ran down from the front steps. Her little sister, Lily, tottered behind on chubby two-year-old legs. They met Caroline halfway up the walk, and the three girls wrapped themselves in a hug so enthusiastic it was as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, although it had only been last weekend. They all giggled and toppled over into the grass in a heap.

  “Hi, Kyle.” Kirsten followed after her daughters.

  “Mommy, can we go now?” Haley asked, pushing herself up from the ground.

  “Sure. Go get your coats just in case. Haley, help your sister.” The two girls ran into the house, taking Caroline with them.

  “Thanks for letting Caroline go with you guys,” Kyle said.

  “Oh, you’re welcome.” Kirsten smiled. “I know Ben appreciates you helping him out with the basketball team. He was getting desperate.”

  “If he’s asking me to play, he must be.”

  The girls tumbled back out of the house, raincoats in tow. Kirsten rounded them up as they started to chase each other around the yard, and herded them toward the car.

  “Let me give you some money.” Kyle reached for his wallet.

  “Oh no, that’s okay.” Kirsten opened the back door of the black Range Rover and loaded the girls inside.

  “No. Please, let me. You know, in case Caroline wants a snack or she wants to buy a souvenir.”

  “It’s not a souvenir kind of event,” she said. “Haley, show Caroline how the car seat strap works.”

  “I’d feel better if you—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Kirsten leaned into the car to buckle in Lily, and her voice was muffled. “It’s free to get in, and all the money raised at the booths goes to charity anyway. I’m happy to do it.”

  He bit his lip. He appreciated what Kirsten was doing, but he could pay Caroline’s way. They weren’t that hard up.

  “Hey, Kyle!” Ben appeared in the side door into the garage.

  “Hey,” Kyle said. “Would you please tell your wife that I’d be happier if—” A car door slammed, and the Range Rover roared to life. Damn, she was fast. He hadn’t seen Kirsten move from the passenger side. The reversing lights came on, and Kyle had to scramble out of the way.

  “Happier if you what?” Ben came to stand by him as Kirsten pulled out onto the street. She honked once, and Kyle could see hands waving in the back seat. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to Ben.

  “Never mind.” It was probably ungrateful of him to push. He’d make sure to buy Ben a beer later.

  “All set?” Ben said.

  “I want the record to show I maintain this is a bad idea.”

  “I promised your dad we’d get you out of the house.” Ben hefted a gym bag over his shoulder. As they headed toward the van, Kyle felt sick. He needed a backup plan for when his nonexistent basketball skills failed him and he injured himself.

  “Hurry up!” Ben called. “Game starts in twenty minutes!”

  By the time they got to the community center, Kyle still had no backup plan. He considered telling Ben he’d forgotten his running shoes as they signed in. He couldn’t play in the gray loafers he was wearing, but since they’d both used that trick to get out of gym class on more than one occasion in high school, there was no way it would fly. Depressed, he got changed.

  “Come on.” Ben patted him on the back and led the way out of the locker room. “It’s a game, not an execution. And here, I’ll take that.” He pulled Kyle’s phone out of his shorts.

  “Hey give that back!” Kyle grabbed for it. Ben’s smile broadened as he jogged down the hall, holding the phone high in the air. They had both hit a growth spurt the year they were fifteen, but where Kyle’s had stopped after a few months, leaving him just shy of six feet, Ben had kept going until he’d topped out at six foot four. In a game of keep-away, Kyle was always the loser.

  “Seriously,” Kyle said. “Someone might call. I have to be available.” He hopped up, swiping at the phone.

  “Come on, it’s only an hour. No one needs you that badly,” Ben said. They entered the gym. The thump of a basketball against the floor ratcheted up Kyle’s anxiety. He lunged for the phone again.

  “Ben, this isn’t funny. This is my business and I need the phone.” Sometimes being constantly available was a bit much. He’d learned his lesson though, over the last few months. Whenever he’d had to put his phone away, he’d come back to an inbox full of frantic voice mails that proved to him that avoiding clients was the wrong choice.

  “It’s a Saturday! You’re at the gym; no one’s going to need you in the next hour.”

  “I’m not kidding around. Give me the phone!” The words tumbled out of his mouth, and heat burst across his face. His frustration boiled over, and he launched himself at Ben. Kyle’s momentum drove Ben to his hands and knees. They squirmed around on the gym floor, wrestling for possession of the phone.

  “You know there are support groups for phone addictions, right?” Ben’s laughter only made Kyle madder.

  “Give it back!”

  After a few seconds, Ben relented and returned the phone. He rolled onto his back and chuckled, his fingers against his ribs.

  Kyle didn’t see what was so funny. He didn’t like the way he’d begged for the phone. He sounded like the whiny thirteen-year-old he’d been. He was so sure he’d left that kid behind, but ever since he’d returned to Red Creek, he felt the little twerp clawing its way back into existence.

  “Jesus.” He turned the phone over in his hands. “You better not have cracked it. Do you know how much one of these costs?”

  “It’s fine,
” Ben said from the floor. “If I broke it, I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “I don’t want you to buy me a new one, Ben. I want you to respect that when I tell you—”

  “Hey, are we going to play here, or are you two going to keep bitching at each other?” a voice interrupted. Kyle’s attention swerved away from Ben to a scowling face that stared down at them.

  It was Mr. Hathaway.

  “Hey, Adam!” Ben hopped up to greet Mr. Hathaway. Kyle snapped his mouth shut so quickly he bit his tongue. His eyes watered, but he kept his lips pressed together.

  Mr. Hathaway was here.

  He knew Ben.

  And based on his shorts and worn T-shirt, he was here to play basketball.

  “Kyle!” Ben’s voice cut through his fog, and Kyle blinked. Ben was looking at him like he had started tap dancing in the middle of the gym, and Mr. Hathaway’s—Adam, oh god, this was going to be weird—eyebrows were burrowing up into his hairline. Kyle coughed and shuffled over to them.

  “Kyle,” Ben said, “this is Adam. Adam, this is Kyle. He grew up here, but he’s been away for a few years. Kyle, Adam is—”

  “My daughter’s teacher?” Kyle snuck a glance at Adam, which turned out to be a mistake. He hadn’t known that smoldering was a skill people had, outside of models in magazine ads, but Mr. Hathaway did a pretty good impression. Kyle bobbled his head a bit, silently asking what he should say. Was he expected to pretend they hadn’t met before?

  “Really?” Ben said.

  “Yes. We met the other day. Mr. Hathaway here is a big fan of punctuality.”

  Ben laughed. “That can’t have gone well.”

  “Are we playing today?” Adam asked. It was more of a grumble than a question.

  Kyle shrugged. Mr. Hathaway was certainly easy on the eyes, but so far he was scoreless for personality.

  Ben took another minute to introduce Kyle to the rest of the guys as they arrived. They were mostly friends from the garage where Ben worked, but Kyle remembered one, Ryan, from high school.

  “Where’s the other team?” Kyle asked when the introductions were done.