Page 43 of Takes Two to Tango

"Why don't you go say hi to him? Make him feel better," Rayne said, giving Henry a small shove.

"No, I don't even know him. He's not in my class."

"So? Doesn't mean you can't be friends." Rayne gave Henry another push, wondering why her son was so shy around kids his age. Adults she could understand, but other kids? Surely they weren't intimidating? Henry eased away from her reach and made no attempt to move toward any other kids in the diner. Not even when one of the boys from the Warriors waved at him.

She started to march Henry over to the boy's table, but then she thought back to when she’d been eight years old and how awkward she'd felt. Her parents had dragged her from commune to commune, only venturing to Oak Stand when money got too low or there was a nearby art show. Otherwise, she played the role of new girl in elementary schools around the country. And with red curly hair, pale skin, and knobby knees, it hadn't been a glamorous role. She'd only felt herself when she'd come to live with Aunt Fran in her rambling house.

And met her first true friend. Brent.

So on second thought, she backed off. Like her, Henry would have to make his own way. Even if it pained her to see him struggle to interact with friends his age. "Why don't you and Brent find a table? I'll order."

"You sure?" Brent said, taking her son by the shoulder to guide him toward the seating area. He gave her a detailed order, leaving off onions and tomato, then steered Henry toward the back of the diner.

She hadn't spoken much to Brent on the way into town. Henry had filled the silence with the review of all the awesomeplays from the game. It proved a good thing because her emotions felt too raw from the sight of Henry twined about Brent's legs, the tender way Brent patted her son's back. A bittersweet longing had swamped her, and it hadn't gone away. She kept thinking about Brent and why she'd come to Oak Stand. About fate and those damned panties of Nellie's. About who she was and who everybody thought Brent to be.

Rayne got in line behind a girl texting on her phone and perused the order board, choosing a chef salad for herself and a small plain burger for Henry. He'd have to do without the fries.

"Hello, Charlie Mac," Rayne said, stepping toward the register, changing her mind on the salad as she opened her mouth. "If my regular customers find out I've been wolfing down onion rings, I'll tell them you forced them on me."

Charlie Mac cackled like a rusty rooster. "I'm gathering you want an order of 'em?"

Rayne nodded. "And a side salad. Dressing on the side."

"That'll help," he said, sarcasm very much intended.

Rayne took the number, then headed toward her son and Brent. Gazes followed her winding path through the maze of tables. A few people waved, some rudely stared, and a few didn't bother looking up from their steak fingers and country gravy platters. They were probably people who'd never met Rayne. Or the chicken fried steak fingers were that sinfully good. Could be both.

Rayne sank onto the metal chair, glad they'd forgone the coziness of the booth. "Here's the number."

She sat the tented plastic number where it was visible just as a boy appeared next to Henry. He had disheveled brown hair and a cast.

"Hey, Hank. I'm Hunter Todd, remember me? We played kick ball at recess. Wanna come sit at my table?"

Henry looked at her. He looked a bit shell-shocked and uncertain. "Mom?"

She smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. "That's a nice offer. You can sit with Hunter Todd if you want." Henry looked at the boy and then back to his mom.

"You won’t be lonely?"

"Nah," Brent interrupted. "She's got the old Coach here to keep her company. You go on with Hunter."

Hunter Todd grinned at Brent. "I got some new magic tricks to show you. Only it's hard 'cause of my cast." He looked back at Henry. "You coming or not, Hank?Tyler's gonna sit with us, too. His mom got a new phone and let’s him play games on it.”

Henry looked wary but slid out and followed Hunter to a booth with two other kids whose gazes were locked on a cellphone. He cast only one glance over his shoulder at where she sat with Brent.

"That's good for him, huh?" Brent looked at her.

Rayne nodded. "He hasn't had as many nightmares recently. His grades are good. He seems to be flourishing in Oak Stand. Just what I hoped."

"So what's going to happen when you leave again?"

Brent's question irritated her. She didn't want to talk about the future. "He'll deal like any other kid."

Brent’s mouth turned down and he picked up the red plastic number. “You said he wasn't like other kids. He suffers from a disorder that obviously needs routine. Have you talked to the counselor yet?"

More irritation gathered inside her. "It's none of your business what I do with my son."

Brent leaned back. "You're right. None of my concern."

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