“I could,” Jillian seemed to be considering the alternate plan, “but the shadows of the fans and the angles from window light would not reflect each block to its best advantage.”
Sunnie gave in. No point in arguing. She had to do something while she was here or her dad wouldn’t pay her eight bucks an hour. He was such a pain. He thought she should earn money. Didn’t he understand most of her friends didn’t have to work; passing grades should be enough work? Besides, everyone knew the Laradys owned land in town and out. She shouldn’t have to work.
Plus, this job wasn’t turning out to be as simple as she’d thought. They had to carefully remove each tack, or brace, or cotton rope strapped to the back of the quilt. Once they got it down, it had to be dusted and spread out exactly right before Jillian took about a dozen shots. Then they did it all in reverse.
Sunnie decided she’d die of boredom before noon.
The only break she got was when Jillian asked Gram questions about the quilt she’d just photographed. Most of what Gram talked about wasn’t worth writing down, but she did mention that one Texas Star pattern had been pieced by Sunnie’s great-great-grandmother.
While Gram talked and Jillian took notes, Sunnie ran her hand slowly over the quilt, realizing that she was touching something that five generations had touched.
When they started on the next quilt hanging high on the wall, Gram said she had to clean the office this morning and couldn’t help them, but she spent most of her time visiting with the customers and Mr. Dunaway. If it hadn’t been impossible, Sunnie would swear the two were flirting with each other. Sunnie couldn’t bear to watch. Even if they were flirting, Mr. Dunaway wouldn’t remember what to do after hand patting and winking. Every time he called her grandmother Jeanie, Gram smiled.
Three hours. Four quilts. A dozen visitors, and every time the door chimed Gram popped out of the office like a jack-in-the-box. This was going to take forever. Sunnie tried to stay awake by trying to calculate how many hours it would take for her to earn enough to buy a car.
When Derrick came in, Sunnie almost ran to him and yelled, “Save me. I’m dying in this place.”
Only, he didn’t like that kind of thing. Derrick said he liked things “real.” The first afternoon they’d hung out he’d told her what he expected from her if they were going to be together. No holding hands. No touching in public. No junior high stuff like boyfriend and girlfriend.
He said she was lucky a nineteen-year-old guy like him ever agreed to be seen with a sixteen-year-old, so she needed to understand how things were before it got out that they were together. He picked the time and place. Then, he’d texted her Wednesday that they’d get together Saturday night.
When she texted back that she had to work, so needed to know the exact time, he just answered, I’ll find you.
That sounded so exciting. And now, here he was.
Sunnie grinned and almost said aloud, “Isn’t he wonderful?”
But she realized Jillian and Gram thought Mr. Dunaway was cute, so she’d be wasting her time.
“How you doing, Shorty?” Derrick winked at her. “I can’t wait for tonight.”
Sunnie nodded, trying to not look too excited.
He’d said he’d teach her a few things when they were alone. She’d bet it wouldn’t be Texas history or where Patton was buried.
When she’d asked for a hint, he laughed. “Don’t worry, we can’t go too far. You’re jailbait, but we can still have fun.”
Sunnie wasn’t sure what all that fun might be, but she planned to be a quick learner. Most girls her age had had several boyfriends, but when you were a head taller than every boy in your class all the way through middle school, there’s not much interest. Only now, Derrick was two inches taller than her. He’d nicknamed her Shorty the first time he’d talked to her.
He was the first boy who ever flirted with her. She’d been leaning over the railing at a football game a few months ago, and he’d walked right up to her and run his hand along her spine as if he couldn’t wait to touch her.
When she straightened, he’d smiled. Most boys backed away. The others didn’t realize that the way she dressed was “in” everywhere but this small town. Hadn’t they ever walked Sixth Street in Austin? She dressed like the kids from the university did on weekends. She’d seen them once. She wasn’t clueless.
Derrick said he liked her light blond hair and her dark makeup. He swore it made her look wickedly sexy.
“You about ready to quit work?” he asked as he moved behind the counter with her.
“No. I have to work until five.” She kept folding squares of material. She loved how he moved closer and didn’t seem to care he was breaking Gram’s rule about no one behind the counter that didn’t work in the shop.
He moved a little closer and glanced around, making sure no one was near. Then he slid his hand over her hip and leaned close to whisper, “You got a nice butt, Shorty. You wear any underwear beneath those holey pants?”
She didn’t move. His hands, still on her, were below the counter. No one could see what he was doing. If she didn’t react, no one would know.
His hand moved again, patting her bottom this time like she was some kind of pet. “I can’t feel any. Maybe you’re one of those girls who wears a thong.”
She didn’t like the way he was talking, but this was Derrick. He must know what he was doing. She was just being skittish, like a girl who’d never had a boyfriend.
When he gripped her hip in his hand so hard she knew he was bruising her, she stepped away, banging her side into the cash register.
“Sorry,” he said. “But it’s not my fault you’re so damn touchable.”
When she let out a nervous giggle, he leaned close and said, “Tonight we’ll go somewhere really alone. I plan to examine a few more parts of your body. Play along, Shorty, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re not wearing my senior ring by Monday morning.”
It wasn’t exactly romantic, but she didn’t need romantic. She wanted real. Life was hard and cruel. Why should love be any different? Besides, Derrick was just a now guy. She didn’t see them as a couple forever. She never wanted anyone to matter to her as much as her mother had when she died.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she moved a few inches away. She had no doubt her father would ask.
“I thought we’d drive over to Tyler and catch a show. We could warm up a little in the back row.”
“What are we seeing?”
“Who cares? Something rated R.”
Sunnie nodded as if she agreed with the plan.
“Any chance you get a break from this prison? We could sit in my car and look up what’s showing.” Derrick bumped her shoulder with his fist.
“Yeah,” she said as Jillian stepped from the office. “Oh,” Sunnie said louder than necessary, “Derrick, this is Jillian. She works here with Gram.”
Derrick nodded. “Nice camera.”
Sunnie had the feeling he was looking more at Jillian’s breasts than the camera hanging just below them.
Jillian lifted the camera and sat it on the counter, but Derrick’s gaze continued to stare at her chest.
To Sunnie’s surprise, Jillian’s smile seemed to say that she thought of Derrick as a boy, not a man. “Take off for lunch if you like, Sunnie. You did a good job this morning. You need a break.”
The woman had obviously heard Derrick’s