Free Fourth Down by Kirsten DeMuzio Page B

into the darkness
as Ford drove us back to the north end of the lake.
    “Thanks for coming. That was the
easiest night of babysitting ever.”
    He smiled over at me. “No problem. It
was fun.” We lapsed into a few more minutes of silence before he
asked, “Does your mom do a big Thanksgiving dinner?”
    “Yeah, she usually does. Except this
year they’re going to Rick’s sister’s house in Buffalo.”
    “They’re going? What about
you?”
    “You did meet my brothers, right?
There’s no way I am spending hours upon hours squished in a minivan
with them. I told my mom I had to work and study this
week.”
    In the dim light I could see Ford
frowning. “You can’t spend Thanksgiving by yourself.”
    I shrugged. “Sure I can. Thanksgiving
isn’t that big of a deal. Now if I was going to be alone on
Christmas, that would be pathetic.”
    Ford huffed at me again but didn’t say
anything else. We pulled into my driveway, and Ford cut the
engine.
    When he started to get out, I said,
“You don’t have to walk me up, Ford. I’m just going twenty feet
away.”
    He ignored what I said and waited for
me to come around the back of the truck before following me up the
stairs. I unlocked the door and turned around, not sure if he was
expecting me to ask him in or what.
    “You should come to my house for
Thanksgiving,” Ford stated, folding his arms across his chest like
he was expecting me to go on the offensive. When I didn’t respond
right away, he kind of shuffled his feet like maybe he was nervous.
“I mean it’s just me and my mom, and we never cook a big meal or
anything. But I don’t want you to be alone. Maybe we could cook a
traditional Thanksgiving meal this year, you know, since it will
probably be my mom’s last…” He trailed off, and how could I refuse
that?
    “Okay, I think that’s a great idea.
I’ll do all the cooking.”
    Ford nodded and mumbled “Good night”
as he walked down the steps. First he insisted on walking me to my
door, and now he couldn’t seem to get away fast enough. The guy was
a mystery. A moody intense mystery.
     

Chapter Six
     
    Ford
     
    Monday night at the pub was slow,
which was to be expected during the week of Thanksgiving. I was
wiping off the bar when Lindsay came in and sat at the end of the
bar. She started spreading out a bunch of pamphlets in front of
her. Lindsay was Grady’s girlfriend and had moved here this past
summer from New York City. Apparently they had a thing five years
ago, but broke up when she went back home.
    I knew from Grady that she was
planning on going back to the city for the holiday - alone, and he
wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Not that I could blame him. The
last time she went home, she didn’t come back for five
years.
    After setting an ice water down in
front of her, I returned to drying glasses and checking inventory.
About half an hour later, Leah joined her. It must be a girls’
night out thing. I briefly considered introducing them to Poppy. It
didn’t seem like she had many friends, except for the redhead who
might as well have TROUBLE tattooed on her forehead.
    Lost in my thoughts I walked down to
take Leah’s and Lindsay’s orders and didn’t hear what they were
talking about until Leah said, “Or maybe Grady just has super
sperm.”
    Shit, Leah! I clapped my hands over my
ears and turned away, mumbling, “Jesus Christ, Leah!” She was a
good and loyal friend, but the mouth on that girl made me
uncomfortable on a regular basis.
    Once I was sure it was safe to return,
I took their orders and served their food when it was ready.
Thankfully they didn’t further involve me in their conversations
and left soon after they finished eating. It was only 7:00. This
was going to be a long night.
    Not much more than an hour later,
Grady rolled in looking more than a little rough around the edges.
“Gimme a shot of whiskey…better make it three,” he said, sitting
down at the bar and dropping his head into his