Page 17 of Takes Two to Tango

Brent didn't answer. Just pulled the door open. "Hey,Hank.Where's your mom?"

The boy shrugged. "She was right behind me. She said she'd pick me up at seven-thirty. She knows where, right?"

Brent nodded as he saw the backend of Rayne disappear behind a hedge that needed clipping. An apron tie snagged on a limb and a slender hand tugged it loose. Brent had no doubt Rayne had seen Tamara twined round him like ivy on an oak. He wished she hadn't. She already thought him the town gigolo, and he'd cemented that impression in her mind, no doubt.

"Come on in, Hank. I've got to grab my equipment and then we can go." The boy stepped inside and eyed the woman studying her manicure. "Oh, this is a friend. Tamara Beach."

Henry ducked his head and rubbed the toe of his cleat in the rug. "Hi."

Tamara bent down. "Hey, Hank. You gonna be on Brent's team, huh? It's the best team to be on because Brent is the best coach."

Henry peered up at her beneath the brim of his stained baseball cap. "Um, yeah."

Brent placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. It surprised him Henry would be so shy. He hadn't displayed any unease several days ago when he'd climbed over the fence. In fact, the boy had seemed in his element.

Tamara stood and smiled at Brent, her disgruntled feelings at not getting a roll in the hay gone. "Okay, you guys have fun. Will I see you later at Cooley's, Brent?"

Brent shook his head. "Not tonight. Got a full day tomorrow. Have some fun for me."

A small furrow appeared between her eyebrows before she nodded and flicked the bill of Henry's cap. "Later, gators."

Tamara picked up the keys she'd abandoned on the end table and slipped out the door.

Henry watched. "She's pretty. Is she your girlfriend?"

Brent walked into the kitchen and started filling up the cooler with water from the faucet. Then he grabbed the equipment bag from the alcove beside the pantry. "Just a friend."

Henry followed him. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Nope. No girlfriend," he said, slinging the bag on his shoulder and grabbing two sports drinks from the fridge. It wasn't too hot yet, but Henry might need some extra electrolytes.

"So are you funny?"

Brent shut the fridge door. "How you mean?”

"You know. Funny. Like this one guy who works for my mom. He dates other guys and stuff." Henry's brown eyes were so matter-of-fact.

“You’re asking if I’m gay?”

“I guess.” Henry shrugged.

“Well, gay people don’t care for being called funny. You can just say gay.” Brent gave Henry a nod. “But if you’re looking for funny, I know some good knock-knock jokes."

"Me,too." Henry smiled and Brent noticed he was missing his two lower teeth. It made him look even cuter. "Hey, I read one whole chapter of that book all by myself."

Brent motioned him toward the door. "That's great. Chapter books can be hard. Only big kids read those."

Henry nodded. "I feel bad for that kid in the book. He didn't get born with a whole arm. That's gotta stink."

Brent felt a flash of satisfaction. Just what he had thought when he'd met a college teammate's son who'd been born with a congenital heart defect which resulted in an underdeveloped limb. He'd intentionally written that book to celebrate the fact his friend's son Reese hadn't allowed his handicap to keep him from playing sports. It was one of his favorite books. "Yeah, but the kid doesn't let his disability hold him back. You'll see that he's pretty brave, especially when some kids make fun of him. Even his own teammates."

Brent unlocked his truck, tossed the equipment bag and cooler in the bed, and helped Henry climb into the cab.

"Well, I'm only on chapter two, but I guess it'll make me mad if they're mean to Charlie. It doesn't seem fair to not be like other kids. It probably makes him cry at night when no one is around."

Brent opened his mouth, then shut it as he cranked the engine. He wondered if Henry knew firsthand about crying in the privacy of his room. It seemed unfathomable that a strong, funny kid like Henry could suffer humiliation at the hands of others. He seemed so cool So talented. So innocent and wonderful.

"Maybe,” Brent commented, reversing out of the driveway. "You'll have to read and find out."

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