Page 12 of Coming to Grips
Chapter Five
“Hey, hey, man.” Kyle shakes hands with a tall slim guy with spiky blond hair and eyes the color of a tropical lagoon. Kyle turns toward Chase as Chase steps forward to complete the loose circle.
Tyler doesn’t offer his hand to Chase, merely nods and smiles. That’s something at least.
“You remember Chase?” Kyle asks. “Chase, Tyler; Tyler, Chase. Chase is here for rehab and I’m his ride. What are you doing here?”
If Chase had hackles, they’d be bristling. Tyler had been way too sarcastic and arrogant for Chase’s liking back in the day, and had always gotten on Chase’s nerves. Kyle and Tyler had gotten along great, though, and had even maintained a friends-with-benefits relationship for a while, if Chase remembers correctly. Chase isn’t sure if they still have an arrangement, but Kyle’s hook-ups are none of his business.
“I’m the I.T. guy here at the center,” Tyler says, pulling Chase out of his musings. “The receptionist was having a couple of issues with her PC.”
“Ah.” Kyle glances at Chase. “Well, hey, listen, Chase just finished up a brutal session. I know he’s ready to get the hell out of here. It was good seeing you.” Kyle shakes Tyler’s hand again.
“We’ll have to get a beer some time. Are you still losing at pool?” Tyler asks.
Kyle groans, but grins. “Yeah, yeah... See ya.” His wave turns into an invitation for Chase to head for the door. They cross the parking lot under the cover of a light drizzle.
Chase collapses into the front seat of the truck, exhausted and sore now that the adrenaline has begun to dissipate. A massage is sounding better and better, but, unfortunately, home and a hot shower will have to do. The ride back to the ranch is quiet with only the strains of the classic rock station Kyle prefers filling the cab.
“What do you want for dinner?” Kyle asks, startling him from his thoughts. “They’re doing meatloaf at the mess. Or we can grab something here in town. Or there’s a frozen pizza at home.”
“Let’s just do the pizza,” says Chase, dropping his head to the back of the seat. “I stink, I hurt, and I’m not really up to facing people right now, although I really do love Dinah’s meatloaf.”
“I bet she’d send a plate for you if I asked. She likes you for some reason.”
“You’d do that?” Chase asks, rolling his head sideways on the back of the seat to look at Kyle.
“Do what? Risk getting my head bitten off by Dinah the Dragon to bring you meatloaf?”
Dinah the Dragon was all of five foot two and built like a fence slat. Sixty-eight if she was a day, she’d been running the Monahan Ranch mess and dealing with rowdy ranch hands for thirty years. That was after a twenty-year stint in the Navy. No one disrespected Dinah, any time, any place.
“Uh huh.”
“I’d do just about anything for you, you know that.”
Warmth balloons in his chest, but Chase isn’t sure what to say, so he merely nods.
Kyle pulls to a stop in front of the mess and disappears inside.
His words ring in Chase’s head. That’s quite a declaration, although his actions of late back up his words. Chase never doubted he would, but the fact that he’s articulated it means something.
Kyle strolls out the front door fifteen minutes later, a foil cake pan covered in more foil balanced on one hand. He catches Chase’s gaze through the windshield and winks. Chase’s breath catches for a mere moment and he exhales hard. It’s not like Kyle’s never winked at him before. But it’s been a long damned day and he doesn’t even know. It’s whatever. He’s not going to think too hard about it right now.
Kyle yanks open the door and the mouthwatering scent of gravy, potatoes, and rolls fills the cab as Kyle settles the package safely on the seat between them. “Done. I don’t know what it is about you that she likes so much.”
“Her husband,” Chase murmurs. “Says I remind her of him before he went to Vietnam and was killed in action.”
“Well, okay then. Can’t really argue with that, can you?”
* * *
During dinner, an old NASCAR race plays on the big screen for a change of pace while Kyle prattles on about the new greenhorn, the state of the fence line along FM 1205, and the possibility of them attending an Ardmore Armadillo’s game sometime this season. A friend of his from college plays second base for them.
“We should go,” Chase says. His options for fun are limited right now and a road trip and a baseball game seem like a good way to break up the monotony of physical therapy and rehab and long days of not working.
“Yeah?” asks Kyle, looking like he’s just been introduced to the guy who played Marcus Cole onBabylon 5. Excited and surprised. The man does love baseball.
“Yeah.” Going to ball games with Kyle is a lot of fun. He’s a very interactive fan, and he always buys the good seats. No nosebleeds for him. Of course, the Armadillos are an independent baseball league team and the stadiums are generally smaller and the ticket prices way less expensive than at major league ballparks.
