She smiled. “You’ll have to go down the street to Burger King.”
Patrick Moore read a graphic novel while he waited. When Grace was ready to go, he took her backpack and carried it. She felt small walking beside him. He snapped her bike into a rack on his sea-mist Buick Regal. “Nice car.” Did he think her shallow for noticing?
“I’d rather have a Jeep Cherokee with a ski rack on top. This baby is three years old and has eighty thousand miles on it. My dad did a lot of traveling in his last job.” He opened the door for her. She slipped in and strapped on her seat belt. When he got into the driver’s seat, he looked at her. “My dad signed it over to me on my sixteenth birthday.”
“Nice present.”
“It’s got some kick.”
Patrick didn’t clench the steering wheel like Aunt Elizabeth. His hands were relaxed. He drove six blocks and gave her a sideways smile. “You’ll have to tell me where you live.”
If her face got any hotter, she’d set the car on fire. “I guess it is hard to read minds.” She gave directions rather than the address. She asked about Colorado. He shared his life story: born in Fort Collins, grew up in the Springs, loved to ski and snowboard; Fresno took getting used to after the Rocky Mountains. Fortunately, it was only a few hours’ drive to the coast. He wanted to learn how to surf. “What about you?”
What could she say that wouldn’t bore him? “Not much to tell. My parents died when I was seven. My aunt took me in. I go to school. I study. I work at McDonald’s. I go to church every Sunday. That’s my life.” She was far more interested in his. “Are you playing baseball this year?” She didn’t want to say she knew he’d played football and basketball, too.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I love sports. Playing them and watching them.”
“Live games or TV?”
“Both.” He gave her a quick, smiling glance. “How about you?”
“I played soccer in grade school. I wasn’t very good at it.” She’d never had time to watch much television, and the last thing Aunt Elizabeth would be interested in was a sports program. “Turn right at the next intersection.”
Patrick pulled up in front of the house just as Aunt Elizabeth turned in to the driveway.
“Would you like to meet my aunt?” It wasn’t until the words escaped that she realized introducing a boy to her aunt might sound more serious to him than giving her a ride home and dropping her off.
“Sure. Sit tight.” He got out, retrieved her backpack from the backseat, and came around to open her door. She held the pack while he unlocked her bike and set it on the sidewalk.
Aunt Elizabeth stood just outside the garage, watching and waiting.
Grace made introductions. “Patrick is a student at Fresno High, Aunt Elizabeth. He moved here from Colorado. He gave me a ride home from work.” Grace couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“I gathered he gave you a ride home.”
Embarrassed, Grace took hold of her bike. Aunt Elizabeth smiled tightly as she shook hands with Patrick. “It’s nice to meet you, Patrick.” She drew back, a faint frown forming. “Moore. Colorado. Are you any relation to Byron Moore?”
“Yeah. He’s my father. You know him?”
“We work in the same building.”
“Small world.”
“Indeed.” An arctic wind had blown in. “Well, thank you for bringing Grace home safely.” She gave Grace a pointed look. “You have things to do.”
What had just happened? Grace thanked Patrick for the ride and watched him drive away. She wheeled her bicycle into the garage as her aunt took a bag of groceries from the backseat of her car. Her face was rigid. “What’s wrong?” What had she done now to annoy her aunt?
“Nothing.” Aunt Elizabeth hit the button to close the garage door as she went through the door to the kitchen. She set the bag of groceries on the counter. The chicken she’d put in the Crock-Pot smelled ready to eat. “I’m going to change my clothes.” She walked past Grace. “Set the table.”
When they sat down to dinner, Aunt Elizabeth said grace and snapped her napkin. Grace knew something was on her mind. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Patrick looks like his father.” She raised her head, her mouth tight. “Concentrate on school.”
Grace opened her locker, switched out her textbooks. When she closed it, she turned and bumped into Patrick Moore. Startled, she took a step back, blushing as he grinned at her. “I’ll walk you to class.” Everyone looked at them as they went down the hallway. Grace could imagine what they were thinking. What’s Patrick Moore doing with her? When she entered class, she made her way to her desk and sat dazed.