face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Well, I—”
Flopping back into the corner of the couch, she flipped her hands outward. “Great, just great. I work so hard at getting over my apprehensions about being around the handicapped, and the first time I feel truly comfortable with someone, I get accused of being a tease.”
Ben listened, but he got the impression she was talking to herself more than him.
Before he could say anything, she swung around to face him again.
“If you want the truth, Ben, I do like Kent. I think he’s a pretty nice guy. Great sense of humor, and I can tell he tries hard to do the best he can with what he’s got to work with. I admire that. But as for being his girlfriend, no, I didn’t tell him I’d be his girlfriend, and I didn’t flirt with him. I’m sorry if he got that impression, and I’ll try to kindly set him straight when I see him next.”
She pointed a finger at his chest. “Because I will see him again. I consider him a friend, and more than that, he reminds me that ‘there but for the grace of God, go I.’”
Ben crunched his brows downward. “What do you mean by that?”
Her face flooded with pink, and she shot to her feet. “Never mind. You just remember what else I said. I’m going to be friends with Kent, and you can’t stop me!”
Ben sat in openmouthed silence as she thundered to the elevators, her flip-flops smacking the tiled floor. She jabbed the elevator button, stood with crossed arms while staring at the silver doors, and then shot through the opening without a backward glance.
Angela stomped down the hallway that led to Aunt Eileen’s apartment. Who did he think he was, accusing her of leading Kent on? Wasn’t he the one who’d put in her evaluation that she needed to loosen up around the clients, to be more natural? Well, what had she done? She’d loosened up, treated Kent like she would any other male she encountered on the street, and now that was wrong, too!
Banging through the apartment door, she bellowed, “I’m back!” She gave the door a slam that probably echoed throughout the entire building.
Roscoe zipped out from under the end table and dashed down the hallway, yellow fur on end and tail puffed to twice its normal size.
Aunt Eileen appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The knot on the scarf she’d tied around her head stuck straight up like a bow. Beneath the scarf, her wrinkled face crunched in worry. “Angela, what’s with the fireworks?”
Angela stormed from one end of the living room to the other, fists raised, emitting growls of frustration. Aunt Eileen captured her on the second pass and pushed her into the recliner. When she would have jumped to her feet, Aunt Eileen stood in front of her and crossed her arms, feet widespread.
“Uh-uh. Sit.”
The firm look on her aunt’s face held her in the chair. She slumped back, popped up the footrest, and crossed her ankles. “Fine. I’ll sit.”
Aunt Eileen gave her one more puzzled scowl before sitting on the arm of the couch. “All right. Spill it.”
Angela huffed. “That … Ben!”
A smirk twisted Aunt Eileen’s lips. “Oh.”
Angela huffed louder. “No, not ‘oh.’ At least not like you said it.” Kicking the footrest down, she sat up, put her elbows on her knees, and covered her face. “Why can’t I ever do things right?”
“Wait a minute. Back up.” Aunt Eileen grabbed one of Angela’s hands and pulled it down. “What didn’t you do right?”
A grunt of frustration found its way from Angela’s chest. “Might be easier to make a list of what I have done right. It would take me all of—oh, three seconds—to name it off.” She jabbed one finger in the air. “Coming here while Mom and Dad are away—that’s about all I can think of that I’ve done right.”
Although she’d promised to sit, she bounced to her feet again. “But done wrong? Oh, boy, can I list those! Hosted all those parties with the sole intention of
Flopping back into the corner of the couch, she flipped her hands outward. “Great, just great. I work so hard at getting over my apprehensions about being around the handicapped, and the first time I feel truly comfortable with someone, I get accused of being a tease.”
Ben listened, but he got the impression she was talking to herself more than him.
Before he could say anything, she swung around to face him again.
“If you want the truth, Ben, I do like Kent. I think he’s a pretty nice guy. Great sense of humor, and I can tell he tries hard to do the best he can with what he’s got to work with. I admire that. But as for being his girlfriend, no, I didn’t tell him I’d be his girlfriend, and I didn’t flirt with him. I’m sorry if he got that impression, and I’ll try to kindly set him straight when I see him next.”
She pointed a finger at his chest. “Because I will see him again. I consider him a friend, and more than that, he reminds me that ‘there but for the grace of God, go I.’”
Ben crunched his brows downward. “What do you mean by that?”
Her face flooded with pink, and she shot to her feet. “Never mind. You just remember what else I said. I’m going to be friends with Kent, and you can’t stop me!”
Ben sat in openmouthed silence as she thundered to the elevators, her flip-flops smacking the tiled floor. She jabbed the elevator button, stood with crossed arms while staring at the silver doors, and then shot through the opening without a backward glance.
Angela stomped down the hallway that led to Aunt Eileen’s apartment. Who did he think he was, accusing her of leading Kent on? Wasn’t he the one who’d put in her evaluation that she needed to loosen up around the clients, to be more natural? Well, what had she done? She’d loosened up, treated Kent like she would any other male she encountered on the street, and now that was wrong, too!
Banging through the apartment door, she bellowed, “I’m back!” She gave the door a slam that probably echoed throughout the entire building.
Roscoe zipped out from under the end table and dashed down the hallway, yellow fur on end and tail puffed to twice its normal size.
Aunt Eileen appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The knot on the scarf she’d tied around her head stuck straight up like a bow. Beneath the scarf, her wrinkled face crunched in worry. “Angela, what’s with the fireworks?”
Angela stormed from one end of the living room to the other, fists raised, emitting growls of frustration. Aunt Eileen captured her on the second pass and pushed her into the recliner. When she would have jumped to her feet, Aunt Eileen stood in front of her and crossed her arms, feet widespread.
“Uh-uh. Sit.”
The firm look on her aunt’s face held her in the chair. She slumped back, popped up the footrest, and crossed her ankles. “Fine. I’ll sit.”
Aunt Eileen gave her one more puzzled scowl before sitting on the arm of the couch. “All right. Spill it.”
Angela huffed. “That … Ben!”
A smirk twisted Aunt Eileen’s lips. “Oh.”
Angela huffed louder. “No, not ‘oh.’ At least not like you said it.” Kicking the footrest down, she sat up, put her elbows on her knees, and covered her face. “Why can’t I ever do things right?”
“Wait a minute. Back up.” Aunt Eileen grabbed one of Angela’s hands and pulled it down. “What didn’t you do right?”
A grunt of frustration found its way from Angela’s chest. “Might be easier to make a list of what I have done right. It would take me all of—oh, three seconds—to name it off.” She jabbed one finger in the air. “Coming here while Mom and Dad are away—that’s about all I can think of that I’ve done right.”
Although she’d promised to sit, she bounced to her feet again. “But done wrong? Oh, boy, can I list those! Hosted all those parties with the sole intention of
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