Duke-ing It Out by Jami Albright
Duke
“What is that?” Sienna chokes on the water she just drank.
I chuckle. “That’s vindictiveness at its finest.” She’s talking about the gigantic billboard of Tiger Lyons.
“Are those penises?” She ducks down to get a better look at the monstrosity as we drive by.
“Probably. That’s Tiger Lyons.”
“I can see that, but why is it the height of vindictiveness?”
“Her ex-husband’s the mayor, and he erected the billboard after she divorced him.”
“Still don’t get it.”
“Tiger’s amazing, and she’s so much more than that gorgeous smile and crown, but it’s hard for this town to see her as anything but the beauty queen. Her ex knows that and put the billboard up to spite her.” I shake my head. Brad Watson is a tool. “He refuses to take it down even though it’s regularly defaced. I think he actually enjoys that part of it.” The town enjoys it too. Gossip is their catnip, but I think I’ll let Sienna find that out for herself, then she’ll see she’s just trading one fishbowl for another.
As we make our way through the streets of Ryder, I roll down the windows to let in the cool North Texas air. All is quiet. We drive down the main drag through town, and everything is closed up tighter than a drum.
“Wow, it’s so peaceful and beautiful. Do they decorate like this every year for Christmas?”
Okay, I can’t argue with her about that. The town is known for its Christmas decorations. “Yes, it’s a real tourist attraction. There’s a big production on Christmas Eve at City Park with a mile-and-a-half walking trail of seasonal lights and animatronics that ends at Santa’s Workshop. There’s food, vendors, and music. It’s a big deal around here.”
“I would’ve loved to go to something like that as a child.”
I’ve seen kids at the circus who looked less amazed than Sienna does right now.
“The whole town shows up for the celebration. We used to go every year.” A memory of me, Phil, and Mom crashes into my head. Good memories that I’d forgotten. Phil and Mom had just gotten married, and I was so happy. I concentrate harder, pulling the images to me. Was it real, or just a figment of my imagination?
“It’s only six thirty,” Sienna says. “Is it always this quiet?”
I don’t know if it’s a reminder of that time of my life, or her obvious infatuation with this town, but the awe in her voice grates. “Pretty much. The only places in town that stay open past six are the La Hacienda Mexican restaurant, two convenience stores, and Rooster’s Bar.”
“There’s a bar?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a dive, for sure.”
She rests her head against the back of the seat and closes her eyes. “Sounds perfect.”
“Uh-huh.” We’ll see how perfect she thinks it is after she spends a little time in Podunk, U.S.A. My phone rings, and I swipe the screen to answer. “This is Duke.”
“Hey, man, are you back?” Cash King’s voice comes through the line.
“Just got into Ryder. I’ve got to handle something, then I thought I’d swing by Wayland Estate”
There’s a heavy exhalation. “Don’t bother. I’m not in Ryder. The team docs released me to play this Sunday, so I’m in Fort Worth.”
“I thought you’d be more excited about that.” This will be the biggest test to my training methods, if he actually gets to play. His backup, Hartly McKay, has been on fire the last few weeks.
“I am excited. Listen, you’re coming to the game on Sunday, right? I’ve got tickets for you, Elva, the kids, and Tiger, though I doubt she’ll show.”
“Sure, you know I’ll be there. What’s the deal with Tiger?”
“Long story. But … I screwed up, man. She won’t speak to me, and frankly, I don’t blame her.”
“Put your foot in it, did you?”
“That and more.” Another concrete-filled breath. “Anyway, could you meet Elva and the kids at the game and make sure they find their seats? I have a limo picking them up and taking them to and from the stadium.”
“Of course. I’m coming back to Fort Worth tonight.” From the corner of my eye, I see Sienna’s head jerk toward me. I ignore it.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I’ve heard prison inmates with more enthusiasm.
“Hey, you’ve got this. I believe in you, but I also believe in what we’ve done to get you ready for this opportunity.”
“I know, and I appreciate all you’ve done. See ya Sunday.”
“See ya.” I hang up the phone. Poor guy, this is what happens when you lose your shit over a woman. I flip on my blinker, then turn into the drive of my childhood home. Well, half of my childhood anyway. The first half was spent in the house next door. Long story.
“You’re not staying here too?”
This is her run-away-from-life crisis, not mine. I’m just the vehicle that got her here—every pun intended. With a punch of a button, I turn the car off and open the driver’s door. One foot lands on the pavement. “No.”
“Do they know we’re coming?”
I exit the vehicle then open the back door to get her bag. “No, but it’s fine.”
She meets me at the front of the car and grabs my arm. “Surely there’s a hotel where I can stay?”
“Nope. There’s a bed and breakfast, great food, but Mrs. Haney couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. So if you want to keep this little sabbatical a secret, then I wouldn’t recommend you staying there.” I continue my trek to the front door, by way of ten semicircle steps that lead to a front porch with four white columns and two chandeliers the size of Volkswagen bugs.
“But can your parents—”
“My mom and stepdad.”
“Can they keep a secret?”
I look at her like she might be crazy. “Of course. I’d never leave you with people I didn’t trust.” While I might not see eye to eye with Mom and Phil, there’s no one more trustworthy.
Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth again. “Okay. Thank you.”
I nod and dig my key from my front pocket. “Oh, I forgot to tell you about Delores.” The key turns easily, too easily. How many times have I told my mom to keep this door locked?
“Delores?”
“Yes, she’s my mom’s pet pig.”
Sienna laughs. “Like a little potbellied pig? They’re adorable.”
“No, like a full-size swine. Phil thought he was getting a potbelly pig, but it turns out he was duped. So now, Delores digs up their backyard, eats like a queen, and sleeps at the foot of my mom and Phil’s bed.” I shove the ornamental door open and move into the foyer with Sienna in tow. “Welcome to crazy town.” I turn my head and yell, “Mom!”
No answer. The only sound is Sienna’s laughter.
“Mom!” I yell up the spiral staircase.
Still no answer.
“Do you think they’re out?” Sienna asks at my elbow.
I poke my head into the study opposite the stairs. “No, their cars are in the drive.”
A low moan comes from the direction of the sunroom in the back of the house, followed by, “Oh, Phil.”
Are you freaking kidding me?
“Stay here. I think I know where they are.” I move through the house shaking my head. How many times have I caught my mom and Phil in a compromising position? Too many times to count. “Mom,” I yell again, in an attempt to give them time to be decent before I get there.
Another long moan comes from the sunroom, accompanied by heavy panting. “What’s that noise?” Sienna has of course not done as I asked and is following me toward the sound.
“It’s my mom and stepdad.” The words are crumbled rubble coming through my tightly clenched jaw.
“Oh … Oh!” she says when comprehension dawns.
I move through the kitchen and into the sunroom in the back of the house. The sight in front of me stops me in my tracks. Phil is prone on the ground and my mother is trying to slide his pants down his legs. “Mom!”
My mother jerks around. Her perfectly made-up face is marred by tear streaks. Good thing Patty Blue mascara is waterproof, or she’d look like Alice Cooper.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“Phil fell off the ladder and has hurt his knee. I can’t get his pants leg up to see, so I’m trying to pull them down to get a better look.” Phil cries out in pain, and my mom’s face pales even more than it already is. “Help me.”
Her plea spurs me into motion. I kneel on the other side of my stepdad and stabilize his knee while my mom lowers his pants. “What happened?”
“He was trying to change the light bulb and missed the step and fell.”
“I’m fine, Patty girl.” He reaches up and brushes a tear away from her cheek. The tenderness and devotion in his voice makes me feel itchy, just like it always does.
“No, you’re not,” my mother whimpers.
Once his trousers are below his knee, I can see that it’s already swollen. Not a good sign. I place one hand under his knee and the other just above his ankle. “I’m going to test your ACL and MCL. It might hurt.”
“Can’t hurt more than it already does,” he says on a laugh that turns into a groan when I start manipulating his leg.
I maneuver his lower leg to the right, then to the left. The ligaments hold, so that’s good news. I also manipulate the leg to test the meniscus. “Any pain there?”
“No.”
“It doesn’t appear to be a torn ligament or a torn meniscus.”
“What’s that?” my mother asks.
“It’s the soft tissue under the kneecap. He may have a tear.” I gently prod the swollen skin around his knee. “It’s already swollen, but I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain. He’s lucky.”
“You know me, Lucky Phil.” He grins and winks at my mom.
I tamp down my irritation at my stepfather. His “Lucky Phil” persona makes me crazy. It flies in the face of all I hold dear, which is that hard work and perseverance helps you to succeed.
“Duke, darlin’, will you help me get Phil to the recliner?”
“I’ve got him, Mom.” I loop my stepfather’s arm around my neck, help him stand, then assist him to the chair to sit.
“Oh, my word,” Sienna yells from the doorway.
We all three jump. I’d forgotten she was there. I jerk around to see what the matter is and roll my eyes. “That’s Delores.”
The animal snuffles and sniffs Sienna’s shoes.
The tennis player takes a step away from the pig, but Delores follows. “Is she dangerous?”
“Oh, good Lord, no,” my mother chimes in. “Who are you?”
I straighten and extend my hand toward my guest. “I’m sorry. Mom, Phil, this is …” I trail off because we didn’t discuss how we were going to introduce her.
“I’m Sienna.”
“Yes, you are. And here I am in my boxers.” Phil grabs one of the sofa pillows and places it in his lap.
My mom looks from Phil to Sienna, then back again. “You know her?”
“Who doesn’t know Sienna Ramsey?” Phil grins like an idiot. “I’m Phillip Wingate, and this is my wife, Patty.”
“Nice to meet you.” Sienna grins at Phil, and I recognize that look. She’s as besotted with the man as my mom is.
“For the sake of the unaware in the room, can someone explain who Sienna Ramsey is?” My mom looks between Phil and me.
“Sienna is—”
“The second youngest player to win the U.S. Open, a two-time Australian Open champion, a four-time French Open champ, and has come in second at Wimbledon for three years straight.” Phil shares the information like he’s introducing the Queen.
“Yes, and she’s a former client. She’s injured and needs a place to lay low for a little while. I was hoping that she could stay here.”
My mom looks a little shell-shocked. “Oh, um, well …”
Sienna wraps her arms around her waist. “I don’t want to impose. I told Duke that I could get a room at the nearest hotel.”
“I informed her that there wasn’t a hotel in Ryder, but we do have the Haneys’ B&B. I’m sure Mrs. Haney has a room if you aren’t comfortable—”
“Nonsense.” My mom’s tone is decisive and aggressive. She has an issue with Mrs. Haney, probably because I stayed there when I first came to town, instead of staying here. “Sienna is welcome here for as long as she needs to stay.” Her head pings between me and the second youngest player to win the U.S. Open. “How long will that be, exactly?”
“Oh, just a few days, until I figure out my next move.” Sienna shuffles her feet and won’t make eye contact with anyone, like the poster child for the witness protection plan.
“Your next move? I’m not sure I understand,” Phil pipes up again.
“Sienna quit tennis yesterday and needs time to figure out what she wants to do with the rest of her life.” I shove my hands into my front pockets. “It’s important that no one knows who she is or that she’s here. If word gets out, the media will be all over this place.”
“Quit tennis!” Phil yells. “But why?” He sounds like someone just told him Santa Claus isn’t real.
The woman next to me looks decidedly uncomfortable. “Long story.”
My mom comes to her rescue. “Of course it is, and you’re under no obligation to talk about it with us. Let me show you your room.” The woman who raised me slips her arm around Sienna’s shoulder and turns her toward the hall. Just as they’re leaving the room, Patty Blue says, “If you’re looking to change careers, I have a fantastic opportunity for you.”
It’s all I can do to not laugh out loud. Things are going just as I planned. By the time I get back from my weekend trip to Fort Worth and Cash’s game, Sienna will be begging me to get her out of here and back on the court.