Part 26 (1/2)
They stopped at a red light and Noah looked over. ”Now what are you thinking about, Sugar? You've got a perplexed look on your face.”
”Violence,” she immediately answered. ”I was thinking about violence.”
He swore he never knew what she was going to say. ”What about it?”
”It's never the answer. That's what my father and mother taught Sidney and me.”
”And your brothers?”
”They were usually trying to pummel one another into the ground. I think that's why they all did so well in sports. They got to pound other teams.”
”So how did you get rid of your aggressive tendencies?” he asked, genuinely curious.
”I broke things.”
”Oh yeah?”
”It wasn't vandalism,” she explained. ”I broke things so I could put them back together. It was a...learning experience.”
”You must have driven your parents nuts.”
”Probably,” she agreed. ”They were patient with me though, and after a while they got used to it.”
”What are some of the things you broke?”
”You have to remember, I was a kid, so of course I started small. A toaster, an old fan, a lawn mower...”
”Lawn mower?”
She smiled. ”That's still a sore subject with my father. He came home from work early one afternoon and found all the parts of his lawn mower, down to the nuts and bolts, spread out on the drive. He wasn't happy.”
Noah was having a hard time picturing her with grease on her face and hands, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g things together. Jordan was so feminine now. He couldn't imagine it.
”Did you get the lawn mower back together?”
”With my brothers' help, which, by the way, I didn't need. The next week my father brought home an old, broken computer. He told me I could have it, but I had to promise I wouldn't touch any more appliances, lawn mowers, or cars.”
”Cars?”
”I never worked on one of those. Not interested. And once I got a computer...”
”You found your calling.”
”I guess I did. What about you? What were you like as a little boy? Were you packing a gun back then?”
”Ornery,” he answered. ”I got into my share of fights, I suppose, but we lived in Texas,” he reminded her, ”and that meant playing football in high school. I did all right and ended up getting an athletic scholars.h.i.+p to college. All through school I was always a model student.” Even he couldn't say the lie with a straight face. ”I didn't like rules back then.”
”And you don't like rules now.”
”I guess I don't.”
”You're a rebel,” she said.
”That's what Doctor Morganstern calls me.”
”May I ask you something?”
He pulled the car into the parking lot behind the Home Away from Home Motel's courtyard. ”Sure. What do you want to know?”
”Have you ever been in a relations.h.i.+p that lasted more than a week or two? Have you really ever committed to one woman, even for a little while?”
He didn't waste a second thinking over his response. ”No.”
If the abruptness in his answer and his emphatic tone were an attempt to get her to drop the subject, he was mistaken.
”Goodness. Aren't you Mister Sensitive.”
He parked and opened the door. ”Sugar, there's not a sensitive bone in my body.”
He was wrong about that, but she wasn't going to argue.
”What about you?” he asked. ”You ever been in a long relations.h.i.+p?”
Before she could answer, he came around and opened her door. Taking Jordan's hand, Noah walked toward the street. The lot was dimly lit by a lamp at the far end, and the only sound was the night settling in around them.
He stopped for a moment and stared into her eyes. ”I know what you're all about, Jordan Buchanan.”
”And would you care to explain it all to me?”
”No.”
And the subject was closed.
”I'M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW, IF IF J JAFFEE'S B BISTRO IS CROWDED, I'M going in the back door and eating in the kitchen.” going in the back door and eating in the kitchen.”
Noah asked the obvious question. ”Why?”
Jordan looked at him as if the answer should be obvious. ”I don't want to go through another inquisition. And I certainly don't want people glaring at me while I eat. It's bad for the digestion.”
”People are curious, that's all,” he reasoned. ”Face it, Sugar. You're news.”
”Oh, I'm news all right,” she said. ”Since I arrived here three people have died. If you consider the number of times I've been here, the number of residents, and the number of unexpected deaths, and then leave room for a statistical anomaly...”
”Which I'm guessing would be you.”
”That's right. I'm the deviation in my calculations.”
”Of course you are,” he said drily.