Page 4 of Takes Two to Tango

"Your mom, is she by any chance-"

"Henry Albright! Where the heck are you?" The woman's voice carried on the wind into the Hamiltons' backyard.

"Oops, that's my mom. She's gonna be mad. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Henry said, scrambling toward the fence.

Brent closed his mouth and watched as Henry ducked beneath the redbud tree before grasping one branch and swinging himself toward the brace on the fence. His worn sneaker hit perfectly and he arched himself so the other landed beside it But the boy hadn't been fast enough.

The gate opened with a shove because the grass had grown over the once well-worn path.

Henry froze. So did Brent.

A woman stood in the opening, curly red hair streaming over a blue apron that was streaked with flour. A frown marred the perfection her face. Brent allowed his eyes to feast on her, for she was sheer bounty. Cinnamon eyes flashed over a lush mouth straightened into a line. The body outlined in the floral dress revealed only trim ankles beneath the flowing skirt. Bare feet anchored themselves in the healthy St. Augustine.

Rayne Rose, as he lived and breathed.

Brent swallowed.

Hard.

"Hey, Mom," Henry said, dropping to his feet."This is-" Henry turned to him. "Hey, I don't know your name."

Brent didn't move, just watched Rayne as she registered his presence. He could see her tightening. See her shock. See her try to recover.

''Brent," she said.

Something tugged inside his chest at the sound of his name on her lips. Her sweet lips. The first ones he'd ever kissed.

"Oh, you know him. Good. We were gonna play a little baseball," Henry said, trying to slide past Rayne into the yard of Tulip Hill.

She caught his shoulder with a firm hand. "I don't think so. You’re not supposed to wander off on your own. Or talk to strangers.”

''But you know him," Henry said, shrugging a shoulder in that devil-may-care manner all boys had.

''Butyoudidn't. Pick up your glove and get in the house. You have some reading to do before we register you for school tomorrow." Her words were firm but there was a softness in her manner, in the way she patted the boy's shoulder.

"But, Mom, I-”

"No arguing, Henry."

A mulish expression crossed his face. "Fine. But I don't want to be called Henry. From now on, I'm Hank."

Aggravation set in on Rayne's face. He'd seen such an expression every day on the face of his own mother. "Hank?"

"Yeah,” the boy said, disappearing behind the fence. ''I want to be Hank. I hate being Henry. That's a nerdy name."

Rayne closed her eyes. Then opened them again. She looked at Brent. "Is this your doing?"

Brent thought about crawling under the porch. Instead he lifted his own shoulder. “He looked like a Hank."

Her response was to laser him with her normally warm gaze and say nothing. That expression said it all.

“Good to see you, Rayne," he said.

She stared at him for almost a full minute before saying. “Henry doesn’t need anyone to throw the ball with.”

Then she turned, tugged the gate closed behind her, and disappeared from his life once again.

And that was how Brent became reacquainted with the only girl he'd ever loved.

---