Mind Games

“And the right ending of a happy time.” Lucy traded instruments again. “Thank you, gentlemen, for your hospitality.” After passing Rem the banjo, she scooped Bray up for a hug, then wrapped her arms around Ty. “You’re making a fine home here. A home’s brighter, I think, when it’s got plenty of books, plenty of music in it.”

Then she cupped Ty’s face in her hands. “Miss Leona was a smart woman. Rem, if you’re staying, I can walk on home.”

“I leave with the girl I came with.” He closed her banjo in its case, lifted it. “Thanks, Ty. You’ve got some grill there. When I build my place, I’m getting one to match it. Need a lift, Thea?”

“Bunk and I are fine walking. I’ll walk off that meal, and he’ll walk off all the scraps people snuck him when they thought I wasn’t looking. Night, Grammie.”

She turned back to Ty. “And she’s right, as always. This was a very happy time in the fine home you’re making. Thanks for all of it.”

Before she could call the dog, Ty sat again. “Know this one?”

At the opening chords, she laughed. “I know them all, from my stalker days.”

“Sing it with me. From the morning light till the dark of night, it’s always you.”

“Always you, ever you. Through the rain, all through the pain, it’s always you.”

“Always you,” Ty sang, watching her, “ever you. Key change, take the lead.”

“When I can’t see through the tears and I’m lost in all my fears, I turn to you. And you, you open your arms to me, you bring out the best in me.”

“Always you, ever you.”

He took the next verse, and they merged voices on the refrain.

When they sang the last note, he set the guitar aside.

“You never thought of doing something with that?” He tapped his throat.

“I just did.”

“I mean professionally.”

“No, that’s not for me. I like singing on the porch, or in the parlor. I’m not shy really, but performing, seriously, that takes a different kind of skill and drive and need, I guess. I don’t have it. I like the quiet.”

“I hear that. Can I get you another glass of wine?”

“No, thanks. Plus, our kids are tired out.”

He followed her direction, saw Bray curled up with the big dog on the deck of the porch. “He’s like a light switch. On, then off.”

They made a sweet picture, she thought, the boy and the dog. She’d take it with her.

“You need help getting him into bed?”

“No. It’s routine.” Bending, he picked up his boy, laid the limp weight of him over his shoulder.

“You’re good at it.” She leaned in to kiss Bray’s head. Before she could back away, Ty took her arm. And took her mouth with his, lightly, very lightly. But he lingered while her heart did one long, slow roll inside her.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” But, a little wobbly, she stepped back. “I don’t mind. Come on, Bunk, time for home. Good night, Ty, and thanks for everything.”

She laughed at herself as she nearly stumbled off the porch, then turned, walking backward with the laugh still in her eyes.

“Especially that last little thing.”

She knew he watched her walk up the lane because she couldn’t help herself and opened her mind to it. So she knew he watched her walking as dusk began to settle, and the last lights bled out of the sky.