beside her mother's sensible five-year-old Ford Tempo, backed it out, got out to transfer Mary's suitcase… and found her mother smiling at Saint Kenny himself, who'd come walking over from across the alley. He was dressed in gray sweats and moccasins and hadn't showered or shaved yet. His brown hair stood in tufts as if shot with a pellet gun. His skin looked rough with morning whiskers. He didn't seem to care.
Tess stood beside her mother's car, motionless and ignored while her Z idled in a rich baritone.
"Morning, Mary," he said pleasantly.
"Good morning. What are you doing up so early?"
"Having coffee. Reading the paper. Saw you out here so I came to see you off. Got everything?"
"My suitcase is still in Tess's car. We were going to take hers but mine is roomier."
"Want me to get it?"
"Well… sure, if you don't mind. She's trying to shuffle both of these cars here and…"
He went to the Z, opened the passenger door and extracted the suitcase from the cramped space behind the seats. He took it to Mary's car, opened the back door and shoved it inside, then opened the front door for her and helped her get in.
"Careful, now," he said while she hung on to the roof with one hand and gingerly fit herself inside.
"Oh, these old bones"—she gave a breathless chuckle"just don't want to fold up so good anymore." When she was in she peered up at Kenny and said, "I was just telling Tess that if she wants to know where anything is she can ask you. The sprinklers and hose… oh, I forgot about gas for the mower. I think Nicky is going to have to mow while I'm gone, but he doesn't know you have to mix the gas with the oil otherwise it'll—"
"Don't worry about it. I'll see that it gets done."
"The gas can is—"
"I know where the gas can is, Mary, you just worry about getting that new hip." He reached in and squeezed her shoulder. " 'Bye, now, and good luck."
He slammed the door and for the first time that morning looked over the roof of the car at Tess. He could keep his expression as deliberately flat as Tommy Lee Jones. Contrarily, she waited to see if he'd greet her in any way at all. He did not, only let his eyes drop to the word Boss on her chest, then sweep critically over her silver-and-turquoise earrings that shimmered like suspended raindrops at her jaws. Finally he stepped back and waited for her to get in and back the car up.
She threw herself into the driver's seat and slammed the door so hard her eardrums popped. She'd back the car up all right! Right over his damned clumsy feet, if she could!
Ringing an arm along the top of the seat, she shot backward only to discover, to her chagrin, that she had not backed her own car far enough out of the way. Another foot and she'd have hit it. Exasperated, she rammed the Ford into park and threw her door open.
"I'll get it," he said, and headed for the Z.
"Don't bother!" she shouted, a deprecation and an order rolled into one.
He ignored her and got into the forty-two-thousand-dollar black bullet—every man's dream car—leaving her sputtering with anger. The Z moved backwards and waited. All she could do was slam into her mother's Ford and pull ahead to make room for him.
Mary said innocently, "That Kenny is so thoughtful."
Yeah, Tess thought, Saint Kenny the Z Mover. Probably got a hard-on right now, just sitting in the thing.
She rolled down her window and waited, seething, while he veered her car into the slot before the garage, got out and took his sweet old time glancing along the length of the sexy black vehicle that he'd probably give his left nut for. If he had a left nut.
He sauntered over, dropped the keys into her outstretched hand and said, "Nice car."
She retracted her arm like a sprung window shade and took off up the alley with as great a burst of speed as a four-cylinder can muster. (Where was her three-hundred engine when she needed it?)
Reaching the north end of the alley, she glanced in the rearview mirror to find him ignoring her
Tess stood beside her mother's car, motionless and ignored while her Z idled in a rich baritone.
"Morning, Mary," he said pleasantly.
"Good morning. What are you doing up so early?"
"Having coffee. Reading the paper. Saw you out here so I came to see you off. Got everything?"
"My suitcase is still in Tess's car. We were going to take hers but mine is roomier."
"Want me to get it?"
"Well… sure, if you don't mind. She's trying to shuffle both of these cars here and…"
He went to the Z, opened the passenger door and extracted the suitcase from the cramped space behind the seats. He took it to Mary's car, opened the back door and shoved it inside, then opened the front door for her and helped her get in.
"Careful, now," he said while she hung on to the roof with one hand and gingerly fit herself inside.
"Oh, these old bones"—she gave a breathless chuckle"just don't want to fold up so good anymore." When she was in she peered up at Kenny and said, "I was just telling Tess that if she wants to know where anything is she can ask you. The sprinklers and hose… oh, I forgot about gas for the mower. I think Nicky is going to have to mow while I'm gone, but he doesn't know you have to mix the gas with the oil otherwise it'll—"
"Don't worry about it. I'll see that it gets done."
"The gas can is—"
"I know where the gas can is, Mary, you just worry about getting that new hip." He reached in and squeezed her shoulder. " 'Bye, now, and good luck."
He slammed the door and for the first time that morning looked over the roof of the car at Tess. He could keep his expression as deliberately flat as Tommy Lee Jones. Contrarily, she waited to see if he'd greet her in any way at all. He did not, only let his eyes drop to the word Boss on her chest, then sweep critically over her silver-and-turquoise earrings that shimmered like suspended raindrops at her jaws. Finally he stepped back and waited for her to get in and back the car up.
She threw herself into the driver's seat and slammed the door so hard her eardrums popped. She'd back the car up all right! Right over his damned clumsy feet, if she could!
Ringing an arm along the top of the seat, she shot backward only to discover, to her chagrin, that she had not backed her own car far enough out of the way. Another foot and she'd have hit it. Exasperated, she rammed the Ford into park and threw her door open.
"I'll get it," he said, and headed for the Z.
"Don't bother!" she shouted, a deprecation and an order rolled into one.
He ignored her and got into the forty-two-thousand-dollar black bullet—every man's dream car—leaving her sputtering with anger. The Z moved backwards and waited. All she could do was slam into her mother's Ford and pull ahead to make room for him.
Mary said innocently, "That Kenny is so thoughtful."
Yeah, Tess thought, Saint Kenny the Z Mover. Probably got a hard-on right now, just sitting in the thing.
She rolled down her window and waited, seething, while he veered her car into the slot before the garage, got out and took his sweet old time glancing along the length of the sexy black vehicle that he'd probably give his left nut for. If he had a left nut.
He sauntered over, dropped the keys into her outstretched hand and said, "Nice car."
She retracted her arm like a sprung window shade and took off up the alley with as great a burst of speed as a four-cylinder can muster. (Where was her three-hundred engine when she needed it?)
Reaching the north end of the alley, she glanced in the rearview mirror to find him ignoring her
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