Chapter 12 #2
“Don’t you dare,” he said when he saw me reach for the interior door handle. “I’m coming around.”
I rolled my eyes but obeyed.
Three or four teenage boys hanging out with a football across the lot noticed Bram and ran toward him, all shouting their greetings simultaneously.
“Wanna throw around with us?” The tall, skinny boy with the football asked.
“Not right now, guys.” Bram looked back at me through the semi-tinted window. Then the guys noticed me, too. I sent up a little wave.
“Ohhh,” one of them said in a sing-song voice. “Bram’s got a girrrllfriend.” Bram did not correct him. It was not true, but since we’d be married soon, it was probably best to let it happen. I smiled back at him.
“Maybe later,” Bram remarked to them, and they took it as their cue to leave. Bram jogged over to my side of the truck and opened the door.
“You should throw with them,” I insisted as I took his offered hand and hopped down to the graveled pavement. “It’s probably not often they get to toss a ball with a college football legend.”
He hmphed. “That’s hardly what anyone would call me. Come on.”
I thought he would reach for my hand. I want him to reach for my hand.
But he didn’t. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of my back. Many men and women milled about in front of the building. No one made any move to talk to us, but they eyed us curiously as we entered the back door.
We walked into a bustling kitchen where three lovely, elderly ladies with tight gray buns and worn aprons were at work.
A couple stirred pots of steaming food, and another took hot baked goods out of an industrial oven in the corner.
It was easy to see that the amount of food being prepared required a lot of people to consume it.
My heart warmed when I thought about what the money from Bram’s inheritance would do.
“You’re late,” a woman snapped at Bram. I reared back in surprise and ducked behind Bram slightly.
She was short and plump, with graying-brown hair that cascaded in ringlets around her shoulders.
She wore a pink paisley scarf over a white turtleneck and black slacks.
The other three women in the room still hadn’t stopped to acknowledge our presence .
“Hello to you, too, Gladys.” Bram appeared unaffected by her abruptness. “I’ve brought a guest.” His large hand reached once again to splay across my lower back, lightly nudging me back around him. “Julianna East, this is Gladys Bell. She’s the director of operations here.”
“Hello,” I said, and held out my hand for her to shake.
Her eyes widened, and her dour expression turned bright.
“I remember you,” she replied fondly. “You wouldn’t remember me, but I knew your grandmother. Leota was one of a kind.”
“She was.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “How did you know her?”
It was a silly question. Mill Creek was small. Everyone knew everybody.
“I got to know her after the plant closed down.”
She didn’t say anything else, and I read between the lines. Grams was a single woman raising two young kids. She’d probably needed all kinds of help after she lost her job, and being a pre-teen, I hadn’t known it.
“I should have been here earlier, but it was a busy day,” Bram broke in, alleviating my need to formulate words. “What is left to do?”
“You know there’s nothing.” She touched his arm fondly, her tone much more pleasant. “The nephews helped a lot, so I’ve not been without hands to carry things. Just stick around and do the running for the ladies here.”
“I’m glad you had help. I apologize again.” He turned to me and nodded toward a small hall, where echoes of voices, clinking spoons, and laughter bounced off the walls. “Come on. I don’t go out there much, but you’ll want to see this.”
I followed Bram toward the noises. The room opened, and we entered behind a large serving station with volunteers doling out steaming hot food onto Styrofoam plates. Kids were laughing, and people were smiling. It was wholesome and warm.
Several people in line at the serving area saw us and stopped to stare.
“Don’t bring girls here much, do you?” I whispered, leaning my head close to him. He grinned back at me.
“Here’s a little secret, sweets. I’ve been doing this for nearly seven years, and I’ve never brought anyone with me,” he said in a low tone, and I felt his warm breath on my ear. A shiver ran up my spine. “The level of exposure I’ve given you to my world is more than I’ve ever given anyone.”
Goosebumps swept over my body, all the way to my feet.
“Probably a good thing you’re putting a ring on it then,” I whispered back. Our faces were close. One move forward, and our lips would touch.
I stayed still.
“Why are they staring at you?” I asked, wondering if he could feel my breath on his lips.
“Honestly? They don’t care much for me.”
I reared back a little. “What? Why?’
His eyes met mine, subdued and full of resignation. “They don’t understand me.”
His fingers lightly trailed down my lower arm. It was the slightest caress but packed full of meaning.
I understood him. I always had.
“Some think I’m my father,” he whispered. “It’s why I work behind the scenes.”
I nodded a little, understanding what he was saying, although everything within me wanted to protest. We both knew he wasn’t his father, and there was no need to say it.
“Hello there, Bram,” a man with a long white beard greeted from the line, throwing up his hand. Both of our gazes went to him, and I stepped back like we’d been caught.
“Hey, Charles,” Bram returned and walked closer to the man. Charles’s gaze cut to me, and a smile spread across his hair-covered lip, revealing his bare gums.
The man looked at me, offering a slight wave. “Who’s the beauty?”
“Charles, this is Julianna East. Julianna, Charles Beacon.”
“East? You that football player’s kin?” Charles asked, gums whistling.
“I’m his sister,” I answered, nodding. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Well, now. You’re practically royalty around these parts!”
“Get on through the line, Charles,” someone down the row hollered, and Charles moved as if he’d been burned while Bram laughed. He told the man he’d talk to him in a bit and then turned back toward me.
“Why don’t we go help the best cooks in Mill Creek?”