Beginning to Believe Read Free

Christ, he was getting desperate in his old age.
    Ty chuckled. “Like you’ve got a choice.”
    Kit’s laugh rang right on out. “You might have a point there, Ty.”
    “You’ve got a great smile and a good laugh,” Ty said. “Honest.”
    “Thank you, Ty. That’s kind to say.” He nodded over, holding Ty’s look a little longer this time. “You grow up ‘round here?”
    Ty nodded. “We had a little apartment a few blocks over. Mom’s worked here as long as I can remember. Dad used to be the line cook.”
    “Used to?”
    “Yeah, he passed away a few years ago. Cancer.”
    “Oh, that sucks.” Kit shook his head. “That’s a damned shame. I’m sorry.”
    Ty nodded. “It’s a hell of a way to die. We were all pretty happy when he finally went in the end.”
    Vera came back out with a pair of beers. “Hey now, why the long faces -- Ty-baby, you aren’t telling him about your misspent youth are you?”
    “No, V. We were just talking and Dad came up.”
    “Bless his soul.” V crossed herself and gave Tyler a kiss on his forehead, earning her an eye roll.
    Kit did like her, very much. “He was a lucky man to have y’all, if you don’t mind me saying, ma’am.”
    “Why thank you, Kit. I don’t mind at all. Now have you two decided?”
    “I’ll have the meatloaf, V.”
    She nodded. “I knew you would -- Danny’s already got your plate half ready -- I wasn’t sure if you’d go with your usual fries or have the mashed and gravy today -- bettern’ usual batch done up today.”
    “I’ll do the mashed.”
    “Good boy. And you, Kit? You gonna give our famous chili a chance?”
    “Yes, ma’am, I believe I will, and a dinner salad, if you don’t mind.” He offered her a grin. “Greens, you know.”
    She chuckled. “I’ll bring one out for Ty, too, so you aren’t made to eat alone.”
    When she gone, Ty took a drink of his beer. “So you used to be a country singer. Not one of those twangy ones, I hope.”
    “I did and I suppose twangy would depend on your definition, but I wasn’t never accused of it, no.” He chuckled and took a swig.
    “Maybe you’ll sing for me sometime and I can judge for myself.”
    “Oh, I don’t sing anymore.” He fiddled with the silverware, seeing the eyes of family, of friends wanting to know why, of all those wonderful men, why he lived. “I bet I could rustle up a CD or two, though.”
    “Oh, your pipes were hurt in the accident, too? I’m sorry, that’s a really rough break.” Ty looked out at the beach a moment. “I didn’t mean to bring up hard memories.”
    “Oh, no. No. I... I can. Well, I figure I can. I just don’t.” He blushed dark, shook his head. “Not my line of work anymore.”
    “You never sing? Ever? Not even in the shower?”
    “Nope. Not ever.” It was the truth, too. Not once since the accident. He hadn’t. He couldn’t. “I play sometimes though, if a band needs me.”
    Tyler shook his head. “I can’t imagine not singing along to the radio, or belting it out in the shower.” Tyler blushed suddenly. “Christ, I’m being unbelievably rude, I’m sorry. Again.”
    “Oh, hey. Don’t.” Kit reached over instinctively before stopping himself. “I mean, no one ever asks about it. I mean... it’s been almost six years and no one talks about it. It’s okay.”
    “Yeah? Cool.” Tyler gave him another one of those easy-going, lingering smiles. “I was kind of hoping I was leaving a good impression, not making you crazy.”
    “No crazy-making. Honest.” He smiled at Vera when she brought the salads. “Thank you, ma’am.”
    She beamed at him and patted his shoulder. “You’re very welcome, Kit.”
    “Thank you, ma’am,” chimed in Tyler, wicked grin on his face.
    Vera gave her son an arch look. “You could learn a thing or two from Kit about manners, young man and I know I taught you better than that.”
    “I said thank you!”
    “You sassed me, is what you did.” She bent and kissed his forehead again.