Kele Moon - Crossing the line

“Christ, Dad. Sometimes I just give up.” Their father patted Wyatt on the shoulder. “Time for bed. You got school tomorrow.”

“Ah, man.”

“Come on.” His father leaned down, letting Wyatt hop on his back. Which he did without hesitation. He stood with Wyatt on his back and walked toward the stairs. “We got to let Grandpa get ready for work anyway.”

“I ain’t finished with their lunches,” Grandpa Charlie said, and Wyatt turned to see him carrying Jules on his back up the stairs behind them.

“I got it.” His father stopped on the top step and waited for Grandpa and Jules to make it up behind them. Then he leaned in and kissed Jules’s cheek. “Night, princess.”

Jules beamed. “Night, Daddy.”

“I heard you defending me. You know how to take down the bad guys. That’s my girl.” Wyatt could see their father’s smile even from behind; that’s how big it was. “I love you, baby.”

“Night, Grandpa,” Wyatt said as he rolled his eyes behind his father’s back at the two of them, knowing he’d get the joke. Jules really did have their dad hosed. “See you after school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you go have sweet dreams ’bout that McMillen girl.”

“Tabitha,” Jules offered helpfully.

His father craned his neck, a frown marring his forehead. “What’s this?”

“Nothing.” Wyatt gave his grandpa a look of pleading.

“Don’t sound like nothing.”

“I got a town to sheriff,” Grandpa Charlie complained, properly distracting him. “Now are you gonna help me put these twins in bed or what?”

“I guess.”

Wyatt did the usual “brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed” routine. He had his own bathroom, thank God, so it didn’t take him long to get it all done and hop into bed. His dad was still in his room, picking up his discarded football uniform and then tucking it under his arm to be washed.

“You got karate after football tomorrow. Where’s your gi?”

“Hanging up.” Wyatt yawned and stretched out under the covers. “I washed it myself.”

His father paused in picking up and turned to look at him in concern. “You did?”

“Jules helped me.”

“She did?” This didn’t seem to offer any comfort.

“We wanted to make sure our new belts were clean.”

He turned to go to the closet and groaned out loud. “Ah, heck, Wy. You dyed it purple. Is Jules’s purple too?”

Wyatt shrugged, not sure what the right answer was. Jules’s gi might have been a little purplish, but he wasn’t going to be the one to break the news now that he found out it was an issue.

“What the hell. Ain’t worth crying over.” His father pulled it out of the closet and tucked it under his arm with the football uniform. “I guess that’s what bleach is for.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to swear,” Wyatt mused, hoping to take the heat off himself. “You’re always saying—”

“With Grandpa Charlie around, I reckon I already lost that battle.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss Wyatt on the head. “Have nice dreams.”

Wyatt yawned again. “You too.”

“Love you.” He ruffled Wyatt’s hair.

Wyatt rolled over in bed and tucked his hand under the pillow. “Love you too.”

Late November 1986

Tabitha didn’t care what Clay said; Wyatt Conner was a nice kid.

He gave them cookies every single school day clear into the start of winter. Well, he gave Tabitha cookies, and she shared them with Clay, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The fact was even on the nights when they couldn’t find anything to hold them over until breakfast at school the next morning, they still had cookies, and she’d been diligent at hiding them from Brett.

“We won our last game.”

Tabitha turned and gave Wyatt an encouraging smile. “Congratulations.”

“You could come to one next week if you wanted. It’s a home game. Just over at Garnet Park. They have a guy who sells hotdogs and sodas. It’s pretty fun. Jules goes, and lots of other girls go too. We even have cheerleaders.”

“I don’t have a ride.” Tabitha gave him an apologetic smile. “And my bike’s broke.”

“Oh.” Wyatt looked crestfallen for about two seconds before he turned to her and said, “My grandpa could pick ya up.”

Clay snorted, but Tabitha did a better job at hiding how ridiculous that suggestion was. “I don’t think my mama would like that.”

“We don’t ride with cops, piglet,” Clay clarified in case Wyatt missed the point.

Wyatt frowned and for once didn’t have a response.

“I’m sorry,” Tabitha whispered softly, hoping Clay didn’t hear her as she admitted, “I wish I could go. Sounds like fun.”

“It is fun.” Wyatt perked up a little. “Tommy’s a good quarterback, but ya know a quarterback’s only as good as the defense backing him up. That’s what the coach says, and I’m a darn good linebacker, just like my dad.”

“I don’t know what a linebacker does,” Tabitha admitted with a wince.

“Oh yeah, lemme tell you. See, a linebacker—”

Clay cut him off with a long groan. “Even cookies ain’t gonna be worth this. He’ll never stop yammering.”

“I like his yammering,” Tabitha said defensively before she turned back to Wyatt. “Are the linebackers the ones who throw the ball?”

“No, that’s the quarterback. Linebackers are the fellas that protect the quarterbacks. That’s what I am—a protector. No one touches Tommy if I’m on the field.”

Tabitha smiled. “Like a hero.”

“Or a cop.” Wyatt shrugged and returned her smile, his cheeks suspiciously pink, but it was cold out. “But a hero too—I guess.”

“That’s neat.” Tabitha hugged herself tighter. The wind was blowing, and her sweater wasn’t keeping out the cold like it did a month ago. She found Wyatt’s talking a nice distraction. “You can tell me more if ya want to.”

Wyatt frowned. “Where’s your coat?”

Tabitha winced. Her coat was so old it was ripped in a lot of places. It was way too small, and she hated wearing it. “It’s old. The other girls’ll make fun of me for it.”

“Then ya tell ’em to fuck off,” Clay offered helpfully. “If it keeps ya warm, who gives a shit?”

Tabitha did, but she tried not to admit it out loud. Sometimes those thoughts just slipped out. Her mama would go insane if she found out Tabitha admitted to Wyatt Conner that her jacket was too old.

“Jules ain’t making fun of you, is she?”

Tabitha lifted her head to see Wyatt’s look of concern. “No, your sister’s fine. Ain’t nothing wrong with her.”

“How come you don’t talk to her? All the other girls do.”

Wyatt’s sister Jules was too pretty. Too good at sports. Too perfect in every single way. She made Tabitha feel very uncomfortable, but she had never been mean to her.

“I could have my dad buy you a new coat,” Wyatt offered before Tabitha had to answer. “He buys them for Jules all the time.”

“Please don’t tell your dad what I said.” Tabitha’s heart dropped. The surge of fear made her forget about being cold. “Not your granddaddy neither. If they think I ain’t got a coat, they’ll send the state out.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Tabitha knew Wyatt had no idea why that would be a terrible thing for her family, and just begged, “Promise me.”

“Okay,” Wyatt said, sounding a little unsure about the commitment. “I promise.”

Tabitha wasn’t sure why she did it, but she leaned forward and kissed Wyatt’s cheek quickly. “Thank you.”

She looked around, hoping no one saw. The doors had opened, and everyone was heading in. Tabitha let out a sigh of relief, knowing no one had seen but Clay, who had a disgusted look on his face. He pulled her over to him, his hand tight around her arm.