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Before The Boys Say No Part 2

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I sped off to work. I was almost an hour late and knew my dad was going to ream me. It was worth it. I had a debate partner--sort of. My father wouldn't understand that, however. I licked my lips nervously as I entered the restaurant.

Aunt Roma met me at the door. "Get yourself together before your father sees you," she whispered.

"Have we been busy?" I asked worriedly.

"Not too bad. Go."

I made it to the bathroom without my father seeing me. Quickly, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and splashed water on my face. No one was in the bathroom so I wet a couple of paper towels and wiped at my armpits. Yuck. I really needed to get some new deodorant.



I scurried out to the floor. Aunt Roma handed me a clean ap.r.o.n and I swiftly tied it around my waist. I loved my aunt. She was always trying to cover for me. Dad knew this and seemed to have some sixth sense because he walked out of the kitchen and planted himself by the register to watch me.

"Hi, Daddy," I said with a big smile. He wasn't budging. "Whew, lots of school stuff to take care of today."

"You know I needed you here, Bea."

"Sorry, Daddy. I really am. I just had to take care of some stuff at school."

"Mm hmm."

"Really," I insisted. "I even saw Brody there."

"I'll let it go, Bea, if you really were at school. I need you to work your schedule."

"Aunt Roma can handle it--"

"You have to stop depending on Roma to cover you," he said loudly. The few customers in the restaurant were watching us intently.

"I get it, Dad," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Feisty just like your mother," he replied with a grin. "Must be that Scottish blood in you. Right, Joe?"

I looked over and there was good old Joe at one of the tables. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Scottish and Italian blood--whew! Not many men would be willing to marry that."

"Cool it, Joe," I warned. I flashed him a smile to let him know I was joking.

"Make Joe a fresh pot of coffee," Dad said. He crossed over to Joe and sat down at the table to talk with him.

I went into the kitchen. Dean was chopping tomatoes to prepare for the dinner rush. He looked up and gave me a small smile. Something seemed to be bugging him. He'd never confided in me before about his issues, and quite frankly, I had my own drama to take care of.

One of the coffee pots was plugged up with coffee grounds. And it was hot. I used a knife to try to sc.r.a.pe them out when someone came up behind me and cornered me at the pots. It was Brody. And he was standing uncomfortably close to me with his arm resting on the wall. There was no way of escape.

I turned slightly to look at him. His face was somewhat flushed and he wore a serious expression. "Hey, Brody. What's going on?"

"I'd like to ask you a question," he said. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

I was thrown off balance at his reaction. I knew he was talking about the incident at the parking lot. "Of course not," I told him. "It's just, you know, you were with Lanie and I didn't want to make you feel like you had to talk to me."

"Aren't we friends, Bea?"

I wouldn't exactly call us friends, but it was nice to feel comfortable around him at work. Right now, he was pressing into my bubble and that same old uncomfortable feeling being around a cute guy started coming back with a vengeance. I couldn't even move out of his way to put some s.p.a.ce between us.

"Yeah, of course. It's just different at school. You know that. You're one of--you hang around different people than I do."

"So we can't talk at school? Are those the rules? We can be friends here at work, but pretend we don't know each other at school?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I was just trying to save you some embarra.s.sment by not making you feel like you have to talk to me, okay?"

His eyes softened and he stared into mine. I could literally drown in the deep blue in those eyes. I felt like I was going to pa.s.s out for a second. The tell-tale heat rushed into my face. Brody seemed to sense my discomfort and took a step back.

"I'd never be embarra.s.sed by you, Bea."

I forced a short laugh. "Okay, then. Now I know. I'll say hi next time, okay?"

"You're beautiful," he said unexpectedly.

Wipe me up from the floor because I think I just melted. I was so surprised by his remark that I didn't know how to respond. I know he wasn't flirting because his face was just sincere.

"I'm not beautiful," I stammered.

"Don't let other people make you feel like you're not," he said softly.

Guys didn't talk like that. I mean, this is what you want to hear, but you only read about in books. I tried to pa.s.s off the remark with a shrug and turned back to the coffee pot. My hands were trembling.

"Look, I gotta clean up before my s.h.i.+ft," he said. "Do you close with me tonight?"

I nodded. He grinned and walked away. Aunt Roma was standing at the end of the counter and had watched the whole thing. She pretended to be busy when Brody pa.s.sed her, but immediately turned to me with a huge smile when he was out of sight.

"That boy is different," she whispered.

"Don't get so excited," I cautioned. "He's only trying to be nice."

"Brody is different from most boys, Bea. He's got substance. He'd be a good catch--your first date."

"Stop! He doesn't want to date me. He's only being nice. Besides, he's dating Lanie."

Her face fell with disappointment. "Too bad. I still like that boy."

I finished cleaning out the coffee pot. The restaurant was starting to get full by now and Aunt Roma picked up her pace. My mom even came to help out. She usually did on Friday nights.

"Hi honey," she said breezily as she tied an ap.r.o.n around her waist. "You have a good day?"

"Yeah. I got a debate partner," I said, throwing my arms triumphantly in the air.

She smiled politely. She didn't like debate consuming so much of my life. "Who did you get?"

"His name's Jared. He's new to debate."

She suddenly got interested. Any mention of a male's name and I had her full attention. I hated getting into this conversation with her about dating. Believe me, it was coming. It always came.

"Is he a senior?" she asked. I knew where she was heading.

I decided to have some fun with this one. "I don't know. He looks like one. He's so cute, Mom--and smart. And does he know how to rock a hat, or what?"

Mom's was puzzled by that remark. "Rock a hat? What does that mean?"

"You know, he looks great in a hat," I said.

She smiled. "Well, when do we get to meet him?"

"I meet him at the library tomorrow morning. How about I bring him over to the restaurant when we're done?"

"Tomorrow morning? Well, I was getting my nails done, but I'll wait till after." She rubbed her hands together excitedly.

I started a fresh pot of coffee and changed out the other. Aunt Bea came around the corner to grab some dessert out of the fridge. Mom cornered her.

"Did you know Bea has a new debate partner?" she asked her.

Aunt Roma looked at me and grinned. "Let me guess. It's a cute guy. No wonder you're not into Brody."

"Into Brody?" Mom said loudly. "Our new cook?"

"Cool it, Mom," I said between clenched teeth. "There's nothing going on with Brody. He's dating Lanie."

"Too bad," she said with a sigh. "He'd make a great prom date. Now this Jared. You can't mess it up with him, Bea. You have to--what advice can I give, Roma, that I haven't said a thousand times?"

"You need to be soft and sweet," Aunt Roma said.

I laughed out loud at that one. Soft and sweet, I was not. Mom didn't like that. She tightened her lips and placed her hands on her generous hips. Then she gave me the look. Anymore, I was unaffected by that look.

"I wish, for once, that you'd listen to me, Bea," she said sternly. "Don't you want to go to your school dances--with a boy, not your friends? Don't you want a date before you graduate?"

"You know, Mom, it's not really that important to me. I need to concentrate on debate. I want to win state again this year."

"Debate, debate," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "If you focused that much energy on dating, maybe you'd have one. How am I going to have grandchildren if you don't date?"

Okay, she had crossed the line. "Grandchildren? Seriously, Mom? I'm in high school. It'll be twenty years or more before I even think about getting married."

She gasped and clutched her s.h.i.+rt. Mom had big b.o.o.bs like me and they always shook when she took in deep breaths.

"You gonna stand around here talking about Bea's love life?" Dad asked from behind us. "We've got customers pouring in out there. Besides, I already have Bea's husband lined up."

All three of us looked at him with surprise. My dad had joked about me dating before, but had never really partic.i.p.ated in trying to hook me up with anyone.

"Who," Mom asked. She was just happy to have him looking for a guy for me too.

"Roma, watch the floor," he said, and Roma reluctantly left. "Before I tell you who it is, I want you to consider that I'm thinking about your future, Bea. You're not getting any younger--"

"Dad, I'm only seventeen."

"Like I said, you're not getting any younger. My father arranged my sisters' marriages; my grandfather arranged his daughters' marriages, and so on."

"Dad, you are not arranging my marriage," I protested.

"Let your father talk," Mom said, slapping my arm.

Dad took a deep breath. "It's for your own good, Bea. You may not see that now, but I think it's time I intervene. Joe has asked for your hand in marriage--"

"Joe!" I screeched. I didn't care that my voice had gotten loud. "Are you kidding me? He's an old man."

"Not so old, Bea," Dad said quickly. "And he makes a good living."

I shook my head vehemently and started frantically pouring coffee into cups. I don't know who the cups were going to, but I had to keep my hands busy. Slimy old Joe. Dirty old man. What was that about?

Even Mom was looking at him like he was crazy. "Joe? I'm not giving my sweet daughter to Joe--"

"Darned right you're not," I retorted as I placed the coffee cups on a tray.

"Keep an open mind--" Dad started to say, but I waggled my finger in front of his face. He knew by my reaction that the conversation was over. Forever.

"Aye yi yi," my father muttered, rubbing his face. "How am I ever going to get you married if you have such a closed mind?"

I grabbed the tray of coffee cups and moved past him. "You're not," I said firmly.

My legs were shaking when I went out to the floor. I just started placing cups of coffee down in front of people, telling them that it was complimentary. Old Joe still sat at his customary table. I could feel his eyes intently watching me. I was so angry that I wanted to scream. When I sat down the last cup of coffee, I made my way to Joe. His looked changed to uncertainty as I approached.

"Look, Joe," I uttered in as low a voice as I could muster, "my dad just told me about this marriage thing. I've been nice to you all these years, but I'm not going to be nice anymore. That's just gross for an old man like you to ask my father for permission to marry me. You should be ashamed of yourself. I am going to make this clear so that you have no misunderstanding. Any time you come in here, I will be rude to you. You can either face my anger or never come back. Do I make myself loud and clear?"

Old Joe was too shocked to even say a word. He nodded his head and cleared his throat. I stood with my arms crossed over my chest--waiting for him to leave. He took the hint. He slowly stood up from the table, avoiding my eyes. I know he was embarra.s.sed, but no way could he feel any more embarra.s.sed than what I just went through. I didn't feel one bit of pity as he walked to the front door, trying to maintain his dignity as he left the restaurant. Okay, maybe I felt a little bit of pity, but he deserved that.

I looked over to see my father on the other side of the room. He had witnessed the exchange. He shook his head with disappointment when I caught his eye. I wished that he and Mom would get a clue and stay out of my love life. All right, I don't have a love life. But they sure weren't helping.

CHAPTER 3.

I am officially going on record. I have the worst debate partner anyone could ever be stuck with. He has no understanding about the process, even though I've gone over it, oh, a million times. He just looks at me with a blank stare. He doesn't even say anything. Come on, man, give me something. I sincerely don't think law is in his future.

Mom's hopes of me dating Jared flew out the window when she met him for the first time. He didn't even take his cowboy hat off in the restaurant. I had spent two hours with the scrawny guy at the library and the only response I had gotten from him the whole time was the movement of his oversized adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

Dad had learned his lesson about trying to find me a husband--at least, for the time being. He made a couple of comments about missing Joe's face at the restaurant, but I refused to allow him to make me feel guilty. I ignored his remarks and pretty soon, he got the message.

School starts in a week and I am not ready. The other debaters are going to laugh at Jared, for sure. I know they're all working together to take my t.i.tle from me. If I really thought about it, I probably deserved that. I just decided not to think about it.

I had spent many hours writing out arguments for Jared that he would just need to read. I don't know why his drawl is so thick. It's almost like all the Aggies made up that slow talking thing--kind of like a secret handshake. No one else in school talked that way. It was going to be a hindrance in the debate tournaments. That's why I took my time to write as eloquently as I could. Maybe he would impress the judges with my choice of words.

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