The Way Home by Dallas Schulze

into it.”
    “Does your leg bother you very much?” Meg’s question made him realize that he’d been absently rubbing his fingers over his thigh again.
    “Not really. Landing in a tree was harder on my pride than anything else.” He smiled to lighten the atmosphere, a little surprised that he’d revealed so much of how he felt. She was surprisingly easy to talk to.
    “Here you go, Meg. I put extra pineapple and cherries on the bottom.”
    “Thank you, Eddie.” Meg smiled at him as he set the sundae on the marble counter in front of her. He showed signs of lingering but when he caught Ty’s gaze, he changed his mind and discovered he had something else to do.
    Obnoxious puppy, Ty thought, watching the younger man move away. He looked at Meg as if she were a juicy bone. Not that he could entirely blame him, he admitted reluctantly. He watched Meg dig into the sweet concoction with delicate greed, dipping up a spoonful of ice cream and nuts, careful to get a little of the canned fruit from the bottom of the clear glass dish. She put the spoon in her mouth, her eyes half closing as she savored the taste.
    Ty was shocked to feel a quick stab of arousal. She was just a kid, he reminded himself sternly. There was nothing wrong with buying her a soda — that was just being friendly — but it wouldn’t do to forget that she was strictly off limits.
    Ty was just being friendly, Meg told herself as Eddie walked away. She’d be lying to herself if she pretended it was anything more. The idea that Tyler McKendrick might actually be attracted to her was simply ridiculous.
    “How’s Patsy these days?” Ty asked.
    “She’s fine.” Meg dipped her spoon into her sundae, wondering if Ty was one of the many boys who’d wanted to date her sister. “She got married about five years ago, you know.”
    “I’d heard that.”
    And regretted it? But she couldn’t ask him that, of course.
    “I don’t see her much. She lives in Herndale,” she said, naming a town about thirty miles away. “She doesn’t come home very often.”
    “You must miss her.”
    “Yes.” At least she missed the sister she’d known when they were growing up. Patsy had changed a lot in the last year or two she’d been home. By the time she’d married Eldin Baker, Meg had felt as if she barely knew her anymore.
    “You like the movies?” Ty asked, tapping the copy of Photoplay that lay on the counter.
    “I go almost every Saturday,” she admitted. “You must like them, too. If you were going to work in Hollywood, I mean.”
    “I like them well enough. But working in Hollywood had more to do with making money than liking movies. There’s work doing stunt flying for the studios.”
    They continued to talk while Meg ate her sundae. She’d never been so sorry to reach the bottom of the dish in her life, and the regret had nothing to do with finishing her treat. Once it was gone, there was no more excuse to linger and who knew if she’d get another chance to talk to Ty McKendrick.
    He paid for their sundaes and then waited while she paid for her magazine before walking outside with her. They stood on the sidewalk in front of Barnett’s, letting their eyes adjust to the bright sunshine.
    “It’s a beautiful day,” Meg said, falling back on the banal comment as a way to prolong the moment just a little longer.
    “Beautiful,” Ty agreed. If she’d been looking at him, she’d have seen that his eyes lingered on her as he spoke. But she was looking at the squat brick building that was her stepfather’s hotel. It sat kitty-comer across the street from Barnett’s, and she suddenly remembered her mother’s insistence that Harlan Davis not be told that Ty had given her a ride home.
    “Can I give you a lift home?” Ty asked, as if reading her mind.
    “No, thank you. I have a few more things to pick up for my mother.” She didn’t really, but she had a sudden memory of her stepfather’s thin face twisted in anger when Patsy came home from