The Date Next Door

Nic could hardly make the same claim. She pushed her hands into the pockets of the black twill slacks she wore with a black-and-purple color-block turtleneck sweater and waited silently for Joel to announce that it was time to leave. She was greatly relieved when he did so almost immediately.

“Sorry about my mother,” Joel said as he guided his father’s borrowed car away from his parents’ home. “Sometimes she speaks without really thinking about how it sounds.”

“Your mother has been perfectly nice to me,” Nic assured him blandly.

He shot a skeptical glance her way. “I saw the way you looked when she talked about your job. You were biting your tongue until it almost bled when she said she couldn’t imagine why you’d want to do it.”

“Why any ‘young woman’ would want to do it,” Nic corrected him, giving up the pretense that it hadn’t bothered her. “Insert well-bred in front of young, of course, because that’s what she really meant.”

“Mom’s just kind of traditional, that’s all. She’s modern enough to defend your right to pursue any career you want and your capability to perform the job well—but she’s old-fashioned enough to think of being a cop as a man’s work. She would probably have reacted the same way if you’d said you were a firefighter.”

Gazing out the side window at the small-town scenery passing by, Nic twisted her fingers in her lap. “You said your wife went to graduate school. What did she do?”

“She earned a Ph.D. in psychology. She was a family counselor.”

“I suppose your mother approved of that career for a woman.”

“You really did take offense, didn’t you? I’m sorry, Nic, but I hope you don’t believe she meant to insult you.”

Nic shook her head and forced a smile. “Forget it. I wasn’t really offended. It isn’t the first time anyone’s suggested I was crazy for wanting to be a cop.”

Which was the truth, of course. Her own parents hadn’t exactly cheered when she’d announced her intention to enter the police academy. Her overprotective big brother had been even less enthusiastic, worrying aloud that her small size would put her at risk.

She had long since convinced her family that she was doing exactly what she wanted to do—and doing it well. Other people had mocked or criticized her job, and she rarely took offense. So why had it been different with Joel’s parents?

“My mom doesn’t think you’re crazy, okay? She just doesn’t know you yet.”

And wasn’t sure she wanted to, Nic added silently. Elaine had obviously been trying to decide just how far Joel’s friendship with Nic went. And she hadn’t been at all certain she wanted her son the doctor to be involved with a cop.

It was clear that Nic and Joel were going to have to remind his family, especially his mother, that they were only friends.

Chucky’s Bar and Grill might have sounded like a dark, smoky dive, but the place was well lit, decorated in cheery, bright colors and openly welcoming when Joel escorted Nic inside. Country music played in the background, almost drowned out by the sounds of laughter and conversation, and beer foamed in thick glass mugs being distributed by black-aproned waitresses of assorted ages.

Approximately forty people had gathered for the reunion, mostly in their early thirties, of course. Nic saw at once that this was no highbrow country-club crowd, for the most part, at least. Most of them looked working-class, a few sporting the mullets and tattoos one might expect in a small Southern town. Almost everyone wore red, an observation that made her realize abruptly that Joel wore a bright red long-sleeve polo shirt with khaki slacks.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Your team color was red.”

“Red and white.” He shrugged a bit sheepishly. “I suppose I forgot to mention it. It’s just habit for me to stick on a red shirt when I watch the Cardinals play.”

“The Danston Cardinals?”

He grinned. “The lifeblood of this town. Danston’s social and cultural life revolves around the school—athletics, music, drama, dances. And tonight’s game is against our archrival, another small town that feels exactly the same way about their team, the Penderville Pirates.”

Nic could certainly understand a heated rivalry. She enjoyed sports and she was a fierce competitor herself on the department softball team. For that matter, she had been known to execute some pretty impressive—and highly illegal—tackles during games of flag football. She might not be looking forward to the rest of this reunion, but she was always in the mood to watch a spirited football game, even between two high school teams.

“Joel! You made it.”

The squeal had issued from a woman with blond-highlighted hair sprayed into a stiff, too-cute spiky style. The right colors of makeup had been applied a bit too heavily. Cushiony cleavage spilled out of a scoop-neck red sweater, and ample hips were buttoned into stretchy jeans. Splashy jewelry dangled from her ears and wrists and glittered on red-manicured fingers. Yet the woman’s smile was warm and generous as she gazed up at Joel with unmistakable pleasure. “It’s so good to see you. You look wonderful.”

He bent his head to brush a light kiss against her cheek. “Thanks, Heidi. And you look radiant as always.”

Heidi blushed rosily. “You certainly inherited your daddy’s charm. Unlike your older brother, I might add.”

Joel chuckled. “Ethan was born grumpy. But he’s a good guy.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t. He just doesn’t often bother with the little pleasantries.” She turned then toward Nic, her round face alight with visible curiosity. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Of course.” Joel reached out to pull Nic a bit closer, resting one hand lightly at the small of her back. “Heidi Rosenbaum, this is my friend from Arkansas, Nicole Sawyer.”

Heidi’s manicured hand was impossibly soft when she placed it in Nic’s unpolished, slightly more callused hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nicole. You’re from Arkansas? So I assume you didn’t attend Penderville High.”

A bit confused, Nic shook her head. “I went to school in Cabot, where I still live, next door to Joel. Why?”

Heidi motioned toward Nic’s sweater. “Purple and black are the colors of the Penderville Pirates. The team we’re playing tonight.”

Suppressing a groan, Nic managed a wry smile. “I didn’t know. But I promise I’ll cheer like crazy for the Cardinals.”

Heidi giggled. “Good. They’re going to need all the support they can get.”

“Heidi!” someone called from another part of the room. “Come tell Jessica who was Student Council secretary our senior year. I think it was Janet, but she thinks it was Kelly.”

Heidi rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Kelly,” she called back. “And if she wasn’t having a baby in Birmingham even as we speak, she would take a piece out of your hide for forgetting that.”

Turning back to Nic, she confided, “Kelly was very proud of being elected that year. She’d run and lost three times before.”

“Oh.” Exactly what was Nic expected to say in response to that tidbit?

“Anyway, you wouldn’t be interested in that. Would you like a glass of wine? The house white isn’t too bad here.”

“Actually, I’d rather have a beer,” Nic replied, eying a tray full of invitingly frosty mugs.

“Oh.” Heidi blinked once or twice, as if surprised by Nic’s answer, but then she smiled at Joel. “Your friend knows what she likes, doesn’t she?”

Nic’s left eyebrow rose quizzically. Just what was that supposed to mean?

Another shout came from the group sharing memories on the other side of the room. “Heidi—who was historian?”

With a dramatic groan and a shake of her head, Heidi murmured an excuse to Joel and Nic and left to join her other old friends.

“Heidi knows everything there is to know about this class. Past, present—and probably future,” Joel murmured into Nic’s ear.

“You know what I said about her sounding a little scary when you told me about her? Turns out I was right.”

Joel laughed and nudged her toward the bar. “Let’s get you that beer. Then I’ll introduce you to some really scary people.”

Nic couldn’t remember ever wanting a drink more.

Chapter Four