Sunny Chandler's Return

She watched him weave his way through the rows of parked cars until he disappeared, muttering deprecations toward a man who would abandon his date at the drive-in. He returned in under ten minutes, but by that time, Sunny was stewing. “Where did you go?”

“I had to check on something.”

“I hope it was important,” she said snidely.

“I think so. There was a lot of dope in the junior high school last spring. I wanted to make sure the cigarette I saw those kids passing around was tobacco.”

Sunny felt very small. She asked, “Was it?”

“If it hadn’t been I’d be taking them to jail right now.”

“Junior high kids?”

“I took an oath to uphold the law. Drugs are against the law; I don’t care who’s using them.”

This was a side of Ty Beaumont Sunny had never seen. Gone was the teasing gleam in his blue eyes. The insinuating smile had thinned into an indomitable frown, a clear indication that he took some things, particularly his job, seriously. Ty Beaumont could be uncompromising. The thought was unsettling.

“But it wasn’t pot, so we can relax.” He smiled across at her, his earlier mood returning. “Ready for some popcorn?”

Sunny’s mouth was dry and her stomach was jumpy, but she nodded and answered yes. For a while, they watched the movie, but neither was interested in the plot that revolved around grisly murders. Sunny couldn’t keep her eyes on the screen and off the man who intrigued her in spite of herself. Every time she surreptitiously glanced at him, he was watching her. His stare made her nervous.

So much so that when he spoke to her, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “What?”

“I asked how you’re surviving the week in your hometown.”

“Okay. I dreaded coming back, but my visit hasn’t been too bad.

Only three more days and I can leave.”

“Seen many people?”

She shook her head and dusted her lap free of the salt that had shaken off the popcorn. “Only Frannie and the kids. I keep to myself as much as possible. Of course, you did the gossips a world of good by parading me through the drive-in tonight.”

His white grin shone even in the darkness. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold. And so do you.”

She looked away and took several sips of the Coke he had opened for her. His cold drink can was tucked between his thighs against his solid maleness. She tried to keep her eyes away from the spot.

“Heard from the bank?”

She made a sound of regret. “Not yet.” A thousand times that day, she had willed the telephone to ring, but it hadn’t. The deadline she had extended Mr. Smithie was fast approaching.

“No news is good news.”

“That’s as banal as the movie script,” she told Ty.

“But I mean well. I’m only trying to make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better,” she said irritably. “I want the loan. It makes me furious to think of Mr. Smithie and his ilk sorting through my personal accounts, discussing me, judging my character on the basis of one day out of my life. What does that have to do with my ability to repay a loan? What does one have to do with the other? But you can bet when they analyze my application, that’s what will be on their petty little minds.”

She paused to draw a deep breath and, without knowing that she did it, turned more toward Ty and raised one knee, hooking her foot behind the other leg.

“Do they remember that I was president of the student council for three straight years? No. That I graduated from Latham High School with honors? No. That I was on the dean’s list each semester I was at LSU? No. They’ve forgotten all that. All they remember about Sunny Chandler is her wedding day.”

“Well, you gotta admit that it was rather memorable.”

She glanced up and caught his wide smile. “Forget it.” Angrily, she put both feet on the floorboard again and faced forward. “I can’t imagine why I’m talking about my business with you. You’re laughing at me.”

“I was smiling,” he exclaimed, clearly affronted. “You know what your problem is? You’re too high-strung. Always on the defensive.”