Читать книгу Wild Spirits - Rosa Jordan - Страница 8

3

LOVER BOY

Mrs. Armstrong waited until Wendy was back behind the teller window, then deposited her social security check, taking out only what she needed to buy food for herself and Tripod. She was halfway back across the bank lobby when she encountered Kyle, who had just come in.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Armstrong,” Kyle said politely to the old lady who had been his first-grade teacher.

“Kyle Collins!” Mrs. Armstrong stopped short and peered up at him. Lifting her cane to tap him on the chest, she said in the voice teachers use with disruptive children, “I’ve been wanting to have a word with you, Lover Boy.”

Mrs. Armstrong had spent too many years yelling at unruly first graders to have a soft voice. Standing in the middle of the lobby, tapping one of the police department’s newest recruits on the chest with her cane, there was probably not a person in the bank who couldn’t hear her. Their smiles turned to chuckles when Mrs. Armstrong said, in her strong schoolteacher voice, “I know you’re stepping out with our Wendy. Nearly a year now, isn’t it?”

“Uh, about that,” mumbled Kyle, casting a helpless glance in Wendy’s direction.

“Well? When are you going to ask her to marry you?” the old lady demanded.

Ellen tittered and whispered to Wendy, “That’s what you’d like to know.”

Wendy scowled at her, and whispered back, “Shut up!”

“It’s Mrs. Armstrong you want to shut up,” Ellen snickered. “But maybe by her asking, you’ll find out something.”

Kyle, red-faced, tried to inch away without seeming rude. “Gee, Mrs. Armstrong, I don’t know. I just finished college, and I’ve only been on the force a few months, and … uh, ’scuse me, ma’am, but my partner’s waiting outside in the patrol car. I only got a minute to tend to business”

“Monkey business, if you ask me,” Mrs. Armstrong said, and called back to Wendy. “Honey, don’t you put up with him giving you the runaround. Men’ll do that if you let them.” And off she hobbled, one hand wielding her cane, the other stroking the pocket of her safari vest.

“Sorry,” Wendy sympathized, when Kyle reached her window. “Looks like you picked the wrong time to do your banking.”

“I’ll say.” Kyle rubbed the palm of his hand across his sweaty forehead. “I’d rather be grilled by the toughest cop at the station than Mrs. Armstrong. She makes me feel like I’m back in first grade.” Then he smiled. “But it’s worth it, I guess, to see you for a minute.”

“Worth it, you guess?” Wendy teased.

“Worth it for sure if you’re up for going to the movies Friday night,” Kyle grinned.

Wendy smiled. “Given what you had to go through to get here, I just about have to say yes, don’t I?”