The Player Next Door

Shane offers her a wane smile over his shoulder that she matches with her own.

But it vanishes the moment she spots me in his truck. Even from here, I see the rage that ignites in her murky sage eyes. “Shane!” she barks, all semblance of gratitude gone. “Can I speak to you for a minute? Inside?” She’s back to using that snotty tone, the one that has always inspired my urge to punch her square in the face.

Shane’s chest rises with a deep exhale. “Yup,” he hollers back, his expression stony again. He knows what this is about. He guides Cody to the extended cab. “You’re gonna hang out in here with Ms. Reed, okay?”

Cody’s attention was glued to the ground up until now. With mention of me, his eyes snap to the passenger side and widen with surprise.

I plaster on a cheerful smile. “Hi, Cody.”

Shane pokes his head into the driver’s side window as his son clambers into the back seat. “Give me another five minutes, ’kay? Might as well deal with this now.” He looks as excited to step inside that house as I imagine he would going to the hospital for organ removal.

“No worries. I’ll grill Cody on probability and complex fractions while we wait.”

“Don’t torture the poor kid,” Shane says with a weak chuckle, heading back to face an irate Penelope.

They disappear into the house, closing the door behind them. My ears burn with the knowledge that I’m to become the topic of conversation within those walls.

Awkward silence fills the truck cab.

“So, I heard you’re having a rough night,” I finally say.

From the rearview mirror, I catch Cody’s nod as he discreetly brushes the back of his hand against his cheeks, likely to dry off the residue of old tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

A long pause is followed by a fierce head shake.

“Fair enough. Just know I’m a pretty good listener if you need to talk. Okay?”

Cody nods. A curious frown flickers across his face. What’s it like for an eleven-year-old boy to get picked up by his father and find his teacher in the front seat? His young mind must be spinning with questions.

As if my thought prompted him, he asks, “How come you’re with my dad?”

I shift in my seat to face him. “Because my toilet isn’t working, so we went to the hardware store together to find a part. That’s where we were when you called.” I hope that answer doesn’t sound scripted.

He sweeps his hair off his forehead. “So, he’s helping you fix your house.” I can’t tell if that’s a question or a clarification for himself, as if he’s making sense of his thoughts out loud.

“I hope so. Otherwise I have to hire someone and they’re not cheap.”

After another long moment, Cody grins, and a replica of his father’s dimples appear. On Cody, they’re adorable. “He tried to fix my grandparents’ dishwasher last month and ended up making it worse. They had to buy a new one.”

“Are you telling me I’m doomed?” I say playfully.

I get a one-shoulder shrug in return. “You grew up around here too?”

“I did.”

“And you knew my parents when you were my age?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Did you and my father used to date?”

I keep my smile in place, even as disquiet settles in my spine. Shane said he told Cody we were friends from high school, but nothing more. If Cody didn’t hear about it from his father, then who else besides Penelope? Has she been telling her son things about his teacher? I dread her version of the truth.

I push the wariness that comes with that prospect aside. Shane doesn’t want to lie to his son, so I won’t start now. “Yes. For a summer, when we were seventeen.”

Cody nods slowly. I get the impression that perhaps he’s validating information he’s overheard. Definitely not a good thing, given who his source of said information likely was. “Cool.”

I hold my breath, dreading the next obvious question.

Are you dating my dad now?

But Cody seems to take the lengthy silence as an excuse to pull his phone from his pocket and text someone.

I don’t attempt to interrupt him, happy to let Shane field his son’s questions about his dating life.

Cody barely waits for Shane to park before he darts out from the back seat and scuttles to the front door. He punches his code into the keyless lock system and disappears inside, leaving Shane and me alone to talk.

“Are you okay?” I ask. Shane’s been quiet since storming out of Penelope’s house thirty minutes after going in. He did his best to engage Cody in conversation, but there was an edge in his voice that soured the mood.

He releases a loud groan-sigh and slides his grip around the steering wheel before letting his hands drop to his lap. “How did someone so fucking bitter and vindictive produce a kid like Cody?”