Nothing But Trouble

Tilting her head slightly, she leaned back toward Peyton. When he didn’t respond, she sat up straight, glancing out across the field to the scoreboard. “I see Marshallton is behind by two points. What we need is for J.J. to hit another home run the way he did at last Saturday’s game.”

“I don’t know if we could put up with him if he hits another homer,” Pattie said. “For days, he had such a big head, we threatened to disown him.”

“The boy has a right to be proud. He’s a good player. One of Marshallton’s best,” Spence said.

“Spoken like a proud stepfather.” Peyton wondered what it would feel like to have children, even stepchildren with whom you shared a close relationship. In the last few years, he’d given marriage and parenthood more than one passing thought. After all, he wasn’t getting any younger, and it never hurt a politician to have a family.

Turning around in her seat, Tallie stared at Donna Fields. “Hi, I’m Tallie Bishop, an old friend of Spence’s and Peyt’s.”

Donna’s big brown eyes widened. “Ah, so you’re Peyt’s little Tallie.”

Tallie wasn’t certain what the other woman meant by her comment. Obviously, Ms. Fields knew more about Tallie than Tallie knew about her. “I’m not sure that I’m—”

“I’ve had to cancel more than one engagement with Donna because of you.” Peyton slipped his arm around Donna’s shoulders. “She’s been an absolute sweetheart by being so understanding.”

“How absolutely...sweet of her.” Tallie glared at the auburn-haired beauty, who flashed her a brilliant smile, not a trace of animosity in her expression.

“You’re somewhat like Peyton described you,” Donna said. “But he forgot to tell me how pretty you were.”

Now why had that woman gone and said something nice to her? Tallie wondered. She’d been bound and determined not to like Donna Fields, and here she was all friendly and nice and... Tallie wanted to hate her, but she knew right off that that was going to be impossible.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Tallie said. “I’m afraid Peyt hasn’t told me anything about you, but I’ve drawn my own conclusions. You’re not quite what I was expecting.”

“What exactly were you expecting?” Donna asked.

“Tallie...” Peyton narrowed his eyes, glowering at her, his expression filled with warning.

“Oh, calm yourself, Peyt. I’m not going to say anything to embarrass you. I like her.” Tallie held out her hand to Donna. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Fields.”

Donna accepted the friendly greeting, shaking hands with Tallie. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Tallie. And please call me Donna. I have a feeling you and I are going to be friends.”

“Yeah, something tells me that we are.” In that one moment, in a flash of brilliant female intuition, Tallie knew that Donna Fields wasn’t in love with Peyton. Love wasn’t there in her eyes when she looked at him, or her voice when she spoke to him, or in her touch when she placed her hand on his arm.

Peyton didn’t like this new turn of events. His gut instincts had told him that, once they became acquainted, Tallie and Donna would like each other, but he hadn’t counted on it happening so fast. Both women shared qualities that drew others to them, and he had to admit that Donna’s friendliness, her concern for others and her warm, caring nature had reminded him of Tallie. But that was where the similarities ended. Donna would be an asset to any man; Tallie would drive a sober man to drink.

While the game continued, Tallie and Donna talked, discussing various subjects, but somehow their conversation kept reverting to Peyton Rand. The man himself appeared oblivious to everything the two women said about him. Pattie joined their conversation from time to time, but most of her concentration centered on her son, the team’s pitcher.

In the bottom of the sixth inning, the score tied five to five, Tony Miller came to bat. When the umpire called his third strike on the boy, Eric Miller marched over to the fence and yelled out a condemning obscenity.

“Oh, good Lord, I wish that man would stay home,” Pattie said.

Peyton took a good look at this Miller fellow. He was about the same height as Peyton, but outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, most of which were contained in his enormous beer belly. The very thought that this middle-aged, foulmouthed drunk had made sexual advances to Tallie made Peyton furious. If the man ever touched her...

Tallie stood, stretching her arms out on each side, allowing the feeling to return to her numb backside. “I’ve got to make a pit stop. Do either of you need to go?” She glanced at Donna and then at Pattie.

“Yes.” Grinning at Tallie, Pattie stood. Donna shook her head no. Tallie and Pattie made their way down the bleachers to the ground. When Solomon saw Tallie, he crawled out from his resting place and followed the two women toward the recreation center.

“Wonder why she called me Peyton’s ‘little Tallie’?”

“What?” Pattie asked.

Tallie waved and spoke to several people they passed on the path to the rest room. “Wonder why Donna Fields referred to me as Peyton’s ‘little Tallie’?” she repeated.

“I think it just slipped out before she thought about what she was saying. Peyton didn’t seem to approve, did he?”

“Peyton Rand would like nothing better than to see the last of me.” Tallie pushed open the door marked Women, then held it for Pattie. “Stay, Solomon.”

“Peyton talks about you all the time, you know.” Pattie waited in line with Tallie.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he does. He probably tells you what a holy terror I am and how he’s always having to get me out of trouble.”

“I think Spence and I know almost everything about Tallulah Bankhead Bishop. From the time you were a kid following your big brothers around, to your recent arrest for shooting a man with birdshot. You’re Peyton’s favorite subject, and the strange thing is, he’s not even aware of it.”

“Don’t you get sick and tired of hearing about me?”

“The question is don’t you think Donna Fields would be sick and tired of hearing about you after three months?”

“What makes you think he talks to her about me?” Tallie asked.

“I’d bet my last dime he does.” Pattie smiled at Tallie. “If Donna thought she and Peyton had a future together, she’d have every right to be terribly jealous of you, and she isn’t. Didn’t you notice?”

Just as Tallie started to reply, two women emerged from the stalls, leaving them free for Tallie and Pattie. By the time they came back out and washed their hands, the bathroom had cleared and they were its only occupants.

“She’s not in love with Peyt, is she?” Tallie dried her hands on brown paper towels.

“Donna told me that she thinks Peyton is a wonderful man and she enjoys his company.” Punching the air dryer, Pattie rubbed her hands together. “But no, I don’t think she’s in love with him. She’s a widow, you know, and I believe she has some unresolved feelings for her dead husband.”

“Do you think Peyt’s in love with her?”

“No.”

“Then why...I mean...well...”

“Why have they become an item?” Smiling, Pattie sighed. “Peyton is thirty-six and considering running for governor, so it’s only natural that he’d think about needing a wife. He hasn’t realized yet that although he and Donna are good friends, they’d be terrible as lovers.”

“Then Peyt and Donna aren’t...I mean...”

“Donna Fields is not your competition, Tallie.”

“What do you mean? If I’ve given you the impression that I’m interested in Peyton, in that way, then—”

“There’s no need for you to lie to me,” Pattie said, opening the rest-room door.

Following Pattie outside, Tallie signaled to Solomon. “I guess I’ve wanted Peyt since I was sixteen and realized I was in love with him. But I’m the worst woman in the world for him. He’s told me himself that all I am to him is trouble.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Pattie walked beside Tallie and Solomon as they made their way back toward the ball fields. “Considering what Peyton’s told me about you, I admit that you might prove a liability to a politician. On the other hand, you’re a champion of some very popular causes, and people seem to like you.”

“I can’t believe this conversation.” Stopping abruptly, Tallie turned to the other woman. “I dreaded meeting Donna because I knew she’d be everything that I’m not, that she’d be perfect for Peyt and that I’d hate her because she’d be such a haughty, nose-in-the-air snob. But I like her, and now you’re telling me that she isn’t my competition, that she and Peyt aren’t lovers, that—”