Shooting the Moon

The floor started creaking again, a door closed and the shower went on.

Harley laced his fingers behind his head and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Just be yourself. Sounded easy. Made sense. But his “self” hadn’t been good enough for Audra, and he was afraid he’d run into the same problem again, this time with Brandon. Especially if Quentin Worthington had poisoned his son against him.

He doesn’t need you.

“Maybe not,” Harley conceded, “but I need him.”

CHAPTER FIVE

LAUREN GLANCED nervously at her wristwatch. It was already late afternoon and she still hadn’t tried to contact Harley. She should have called him hours ago, first thing in the morning. Instead she’d procrastinated and was continuing to put off the inevitable by playing a game of Hearts with Brandon and his best friend, Scott, both of whom she’d just picked up from Mt. Marley Academy for Boys and Girls.

“What happened today at school, guys?” she asked, tossing a five of clubs on top of Brandon’s ace of spades.

“You can’t throw that,” her nephew protested. “I led with a spade so you have to throw a spade.”

“Only if I have one,” she told him. “I’m out, so I can play any suit I want, remember?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re lucky I didn’t give you any point cards. That ace is going to beat anything we throw, which means you’re probably going to get stuck with the queen of spades. Unless you’re holding it yourself, of course.”

Brandon said nothing. He kept his attention on his cards, his brow wrinkling in concentration.

“I asked you two about school,” she said as Scott laid down the dreaded queen of spades. She watched her nephew’s face for any sign of displeasure that he’d just picked up another thirteen points, but saw none. Was he trying to shoot the moon? Gathering all point cards in the deck—every heart and the queen of spades—at the risk of missing one or more wasn’t an easy thing to do, even with a good hand. If he succeeded, however, he’d set her and Scott back twenty-six points and win the game.

“School was okay, I guess,” Brandon murmured, finally answering her question, but his eyes were still riveted to the fan of cards in his hand.

“What did you do at recess?” she asked.

Brandon led with the queen of hearts—almost a sure sign that he was trying to shoot the moon. But considering what Lauren held in her hand, he didn’t have enough high cards to take the rest of the tricks. She considered playing the ace of hearts and letting him learn the hard way, then gave him something smaller to see if he could pull it off without an adult and veteran player working against him.

“Mallory and Sarah chase us every recess,” Scott complained. “They won’t leave us alone.” He tossed Brandon a jack of hearts and a taunting smile. “You just took another heart, Brandon. You’re gonna lose big! What do you have so far, twenty points?”

If Brandon had twenty points already, he only needed to collect another six to shoot the moon. Lauren suspected Scott didn’t understand the game nearly as well as he said he did. Otherwise he would’ve realized that throwing such a high heart at this stage wasn’t wise. “Those girls have liked you guys all year,” she said, keeping the conversation on a neutral topic so she wouldn’t give her nephew away.

Brandon chose to play an eight of clubs, which was probably a mistake. Lauren’s last card of that suit was the ten, and all the face cards were out. She’d have to take the pile and any hearts Scott tossed into it, which meant Brandon wouldn’t be able to capture all the points.

Sure enough, when his friend piled a heart on top of her ten, Brandon groaned. “Oh, man. I was so close. Look at this.” He fanned out the cards he’d already taken. “I’ve got the queen of spades and nine of the thirteen hearts. I was only missing four.”

“You did great, babe,” Lauren told him. “It’s tough to shoot the moon. You have to be holding a lot of good cards and play them just right.”

“And if you don’t make it, you’re in major trouble,” Scott pointed out.

Brandon scowled at him. “But if you do make it, you’re the bomb. I would’ve won for sure.”

“You’ll have other chances,” Lauren promised.

“Does that mean we can play another game?” he asked.

“Not now. Scott’s mother is expecting him at home, you have to do your homework, and I have to start dinner.”

“Aw, can’t we go out for dinner tonight?”

“No, I’ve already defrosted a couple of steaks. I thought we could grill them outside on the patio.” She’d also made homemade rolls, scalloped potatoes, a candied almond salad and Brandon’s favorite dessert—cheesecake. Keeping herself busy with domestic tasks had helped her avoid thinking about Harley Nelson. But the time for his arrival was fast approaching and she couldn’t put off dealing with the situation any longer.

“Why don’t you go ahead and walk Scott across the street while I start the barbecue?” she said.

Taking her suggestion, Brandon followed his friend to the front of the house. As soon as Lauren heard the door slam, she took Harley’s card from her pocket, wiped sweaty palms on her blue jeans and dialed his number.

I’m only doing what’s best, she told herself. But if that was true, why did she feel so terrible about it?

Someone answered, but it wasn’t Harley. It was a woman.

Lauren drew a bolstering breath. He’s no good. He probably goes from one relationship to another, breaking hearts along the way, and this is just the next person in line. “Is Harley Nelson there?”

“I’m afraid not, but I’d sure like to reach him. This is Angela at Hudson & Taylor’s. He was shopping here earlier. When he paid for his purchases, he left his cell phone on the counter.”

Evidently she’d been wrong, in this instance, anyway. But that didn’t make her feel any better. She couldn’t reach him, and he was supposed to appear at her door in—she cast another nervous glance at her watch—an hour.

“Do you know his home number?” the woman asked.

“I have the number where he’s staying,” she said, grateful for whatever had prompted Harley to give it to her. “Hang on a second.”

Taking the cordless phone, she went to her bedroom and found the slip of paper Harley had handed her just before she left the restaurant. She rattled off the number, then hung up and dialed it herself, far more eager to talk to Harley now that the possibility of being unable to reach him seemed all too likely.

“’Lo?”

“Harley?”

“No, it’s Tank. Who’s this?”

“Lauren Worthington. I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to date your brother Damien.”

“’Course I remember you. We went to high school together.”

Part of the rowdy crowd, Tank had been popular, but Lauren had never really spoken to him until two years ago, when Damien had taken her to a family birthday party. “I’m looking for Harley Nelson,” she said, fidgeting nervously. “It’s important that I talk to him. Is he around?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him all day. But if he’s late or somethin’, don’t give up on him. I know he wouldn’t miss dinner at your place.”

“That’s just it,” Lauren said. “He’s planning to see Brandon, but I…um…I forgot that Brandon won’t be here. He’s got…” Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an event important enough to justify canceling, but nothing presented itself. “…something he can’t miss,” she finished lamely.

Tank hesitated as though trying to decide whether or not to believe her, and she fought the temptation to prop up the lie with more senseless babble.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I know Harley will be disappointed.”

“Yeah…um…so will Brandon.” Except that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Closing her eyes, Lauren briefly remembered a conversation she’d had with Brandon just a few months ago.

I hope I’ll be tall like my dad.

How do you know your dad was tall?

My mom used to talk about him.