Thin Love (60 page)

“This is nice, Kona.”

“Aside from our son’s dirty plates?” Keira smiles, shakes her head at Ransom when he shrugs. “Thanks. I had nothing to do with it.” Kona hands her a glass of
Chianti
and they all settle down for a helping of red sauce and thin, buttery spaghetti noodles.

“The carbs, man,” Ransom says, stuffing his face with garlic bread still warm from the aluminum wrapping. “There is no way anyone can stay away from them in this city.”

“Why do you think there are so many walking tours? You have to burn off everything you eat here, sweetie.” Keira says, slipping a slice of garlic bread in her mouth and Kona stares too long at her mouth, at her tongue licking across her lips.

They’d spent the day walking down memory lane again, despite Keira’s protests. He’d told her a few days before that he was considering a position at CPU. Brian had given him the word and Kona thought about it, wanted to see what the university had to offer him. He was getting too old for the NFL and he loved what the Steamers were doing with their team. He loved the city, how the coaches and owners ran their program, but Kona knew what another two year contract would mean for him; that he might not play every game, that he’d spend more time on the road, most of his days in New Orleans, away from Ransom and Keira.

The thought of them in Nashville makes an uneasy pinch burning in his gut. They hadn’t discussed what would happen at the end of the summer, but Kona knows a goodbye is coming soon. He doesn’t want that and so he convinced Keira to take Ransom to CPU, to tour the campus he didn’t get to see during the combine.

They’d visited the campus, the library—explained to Ransom about their first meeting there, the team house and the buildings where they’d taken their classes that first year together. Kona had noticed how quiet Keira had been, but when he’d begun to ask her about it, she dismissed him, started to recount how she’d purposefully gotten details about Kona’s game wrong just to piss him off.

“You did that?” he’d asked her, surprised.

“Of course I did. I just wanted your full attention.”

“Sweetheart, my attention was always yours.”

She still had it, especially since the night of Ransom’s party. But Kona hadn’t had the chance to talk to Keira about that kiss or if it had meant anything to her at all. He knew she was wary, still scared, maybe convinced Kona would let his mother screwed with their lives again, but he’d ignored the constant phone calls from his mother, was determined that she wouldn’t get in the way of what he wanted with Keira and his son.

Kona blinks, pulls his thoughts from that kiss, from Keira’s fear and back to his son sitting at his side. “So, what did you think?” Kona asks Ransom between bites of his spaghetti. Across the table, Keira looks at him, smiling behind her wineglass.

“It’s nice.” Ransom sops up the sauce with a thick slice of bread and finishes chewing before he continues. “I like the facilities and how small the campus is.” His son glances to his mother and the look they share has Kona curious. “It’s funny, though, how keyed up your boy Brian was about me maybe going there.” Ransom sits back, sets his napkin down on the table and when he again looks at Keira, Kona knows there is something he’s missing in the conversation. “The thing is, I don’t want to walk in anybody’s shadow.”

“What do you mean?” Kona forgets his meal, pushes his plate further on the table to focus on his son.

Ransom shrugs, releases a slow sigh as though he isn’t eager to explain himself. “I stopped doing music camp when I was ten because all anyone there wanted to know about was Mom.” Ransom is not annoyed, doesn’t have an attitude; Kona gets that this is him trying to deliver bad news. By the expression on Keira’s face—that barely hinted smile and the way she sips from her glass—Kona knows this is something she’s heard before. His son leans on the table, twisting the napkin between his fingers.

“Back home, industry people are a small circle. Everybody knows everybody else and that’s even more the case with their kids. So I’d go to this camp up in Gatlinburg every summer hoping to learn new chords, or how to write a better song and all anyone wanted to know was who my mom was writing for or what she was working on.” He shrugs again as though the memory doesn’t bother him. “There was even one kid who tried slipping me a card so I’d give it to her. Turns out his dad put him up to it because he wanted to work with her.”

“CPU is a little different,” Kona says, not liking where the conversation was heading. When Ransom nods, but doesn’t say anything else, Kona taps his hand. “Say what’s in your head. I can take it.”

Ransom considers him, eyelids lowering before he smiles. “I spent the afternoon with Brian, with him showing me the facilities, promising me things like scholarships and first choice at the team house and it was cool. I’d like to be here, especially if you end up sticking around, though I’d be a little worried about Mom being five hundred miles away. But it’s been less than a month and already Kona Hale’s son is getting treated like a rich kid.” When Kona starts to protest, Ransom waves him off. “I’m not bitching and I don’t think anyone is doing it on purpose, but man, I don’t wanna get into a school that only wants me because I’m your kid. It wouldn’t seem like much of an accomplishment to me.”

Kona is surprised by Ransom’s admission, by the honest way he lets Kona down and doesn’t make Kona feel shitty about it. A quick glance at Keira and Kona smiles. “He really isn’t a normal kid.”

“I told you,” she says.

“Hey,” Ransom says, looking between Keira and Kona. “What is that supposed to mean?”

His son is a good person. His son is exceptional and Kona doesn’t understand how the boy can’t see that for himself. He sits back, head shaking as he watches Ransom’s gaze moving from Kona’s smile to Keira trying to conceal hers with the wineglass. “You know how many entitled brats I’ve been around?” The number staggered Kona. Snotty little shits who had no clue what is was to hunger, to want. “Hundreds. Player’s kids, owner’s kids, hell, even the ref’s kids act like the world owes them something. Not one them have your skills or your talent, son, and every single one of those little shits still expects to get into Ivy League colleges or onto teams that wouldn’t normally look at them. And that’s just the ones who actually want to do something other than live off the coattails of what their parents did.”

Ransom’s face relaxes and he looks down at the table, that Luka half-grin of his warming Kona’s chest. “The fact that you’d walk away from a camp that you liked or won’t be handed something just because of who your parents are says a lot about who you are, Ransom.” His boy waves him off and Kona is surprised to see that same quick blush Keira never could hide moving up his son’s face. “Even if I end up there, coaching, whatever happens, you’ll still have to do the work. You’ll have to train harder, work harder than anyone else. I’m sorry that it’s the way it is. I’m sorry that people are going to treat you differently, but those are just the assholes that don’t know you.” Kona leans across the table, grazes Ransom’s arm so the boy will look at him. “Anyone that meets you, takes the time to find out who you are, will see that you don’t expect a free ride. They’ll know what an exceptional kid you are and they’ll respect you.” Kona pauses, lowers his voice. “God knows I do.”

“Damn, Kona, don’t get all soft on me.” Ransom laughs, slapping his shoulder. “Your shadow is huge, man, but I’m happy to walk in it.”

Kona takes Ransom by the back of the neck, pulling him close. It’s not quite a hug, but a little touch of expression that he hopes tells Ransom he loves him. “Buddy, my shadow will be nothing to the one that follows you. I have zero doubts.”

To his left, Kona hears Keira sniffle and both he and Ransom turn toward her, eyes wide as they see the tears leaking from her eyes. And then, just like that, the awkwardness passes as Ransom and Kona both laugh at her.

“Oh shut up.” She gets up from the table, throws her napkin at them before she brings her half eaten plate to the sink. “You’re both assholes.”

“Come on, Mom, don’t get pissy.” Ransom leaves the table and stands behind Keira, kissing the top of her head. “You are such a girl sometimes.” He ducks away from Keira’s elbow and pulls his phone out of his pocket when his text alert chimes. “Oh shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Keira pulls a dish rag from the counter to dry her hands and looks up at Ransom as Kona clears the table.

“Um, nothing.” He looks again between his parents and Kona recognizes the smirk. He’s noticed his son giving Keira that look over the past few weeks when he was trying to butter her up. But he’d never given it to Kona. Not until this moment. “Hey, man, you think I can check out a little early? I mean, I know you wanted us to watch that movie and everything…”

“It’s cool. I’ve got that meeting in the morning, so I wasn’t planning on staying up too late anyway.” Kona nods to his phone. “What’s up?”

“Emily has an extra ticket to Jazz Fest. They’re on the way to see Frank Ocean.”

“The redhead?” Kona smiles at the way Ransom tries not to bounces on his feet. She was a pretty girl. He’s not surprised by his son’s poorly-contained excitement.

“When did this happen?” Keira asks, leaning against the sink. “I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are. I mean… sorta.” His attention returns to his phone when another message sounds and the smile on his son’s face becomes ridiculous. “So, can I go? They’re gonna pick me up in like ten minutes.”

“Ransom, you don’t know the city.” Keira gets a strange wrinkle between her eyes and Kona blinks at her. He’d never seen her look at their son that way. “Emily is a nice girl but I don’t anything about her or who you’ll be with.”

“Mom…”

“Come on, the boy’s sixteen and it’s not late.” Kona tries to keep his voice light, easy. He doesn’t know if he is overstepping his bounds with her, but, he figures, Ransom is his kid too. He should have a say in what he does. “He’ll be back soon enough and then you can head back to Mandeville when the concert’s over, Wildcat.”

“Would stop calling me that?” She says to him, head turning in his direction.

“Sixteen years, sweetheart and you’re still asking? You know I won’t.” Kona fails at keeping the laugh out of his tone. This is Keira deflecting, Keira trying to distract the attention so she’ll win an argument.
Some things never change.
Kona rolls his eyes, touches her arm to make her look at him, generally curious where all this worry is coming from. “What’s the problem? He’s a good kid and I’m sure he’s not gonna get mixed up in something stupid. Besides, you can’t tell me he hasn’t been to a concert before, not with the industry you work in.”

“That’s not the point. New Orleans isn’t Nashville.”

“Please.” Another small laugh and Kona reclines against the island, staring down at her. “You know what I was doing at sixteen in this city?”

“Someone cheap and tarty, I’m sure.”

Ouch.
Not completely wrong, but that was still below the belt. Kona shuts up, not eager to piss her off, but can’t seem to stop himself from glaring at her.

“Mom, it’s fine. I’ll tell her I can’t go.” Ransom doesn’t pretend to hide his disappointment and Kona hates that the kid’s voice goes soft, that he immediately moves his thumb across his phone, likely telling his girl he can’t see her. “We’ll go back to Mandeville after we watch the movie. That okay?”

When he walks away, not waiting for answer, Kona widens his eyes at Keira, motions toward the sad slump of Ransom’s shoulders.

She watches him for a second, then slaps at Kona’s touch when he tries pushing her toward Ransom. “No, that’s okay, son. You go. I’ll wait for you here so they won’t have to drive all the way out to Mandeville.”

“You sure?” he says, turning on his heel.

“Yeah. It’s fine, just be careful and please text me when you get there.” Kona clears his throat. Keira sighs, but doesn’t fuss at Kona. “Well at least text me when you’re on the way back, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom.” That sad attitude vanishes as Ransom sends his text, then kisses Keira on the cheek. She waves him off and returns to the sink, attacking the mess Ransom had made in Kona’s kitchen when the boy catches Kona’s eye. His kid is not remotely subtle, gives Kona a nod, then another that he directs toward Keira.

He’d asked Kona a week or so ago what he thought about his chances were of getting Keira back. The kid was curious; kept asking, kept hinting that he caught the vibe between them and more than once Ransom had caught Kona staring at Keira. His boy wasn’t stupid. He knew what Kona wanted so for the past few days Ransom had been pushing Kona to make a move. He didn’t have the heart to tell his son he’d tried already, at his party. Kona didn’t think Ransom would be cool with him groping his mom outside on that balcony.

Another nod at Kona and a silent whisper of “I’m
so
not coming back,” then Ransom backs away, eyebrows waggling. “You two kids behave now. First time without a chaperone in while, right?”

Keira’s shoulders stiffen and Kona jerks his fist up at his son, a mock threat that Ransom finds funny. “Boy, leave before I smack you.”

The click of the door sounds across Kona’s large house, the noise making Keira look over her shoulder. Kona stands next to her, reaches for a cup to put in the dishwasher, but she stops him with her hand on his wrist. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“You’re my guest, Wildcat. I can’t let you do that.”

“And you bought us breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, I taught Ransom better than this.” She waves to the collection of plates on the counter. “You have to let me do something.” She removes her hand and shoves him back toward the table. “I need something to distract me.”

Keira’s shoulders haven’t relaxed and as Kona watches her from his spot at the table, he realizes that it is more than Ransom leaving with a girl that has her worried. “You really scared about him being in the city?”

She gives him a half shrug. “He’ll be okay. I know he can take care of himself.” She looks out the window above the sink, eyes unfocused for a moment before her attention is back on the silverware in her hand. “He’s been running high for weeks. That’s because of you.” Her smile is soft, real, when she glances at him. “But I’m worried that something will set him off. End of the summer when we go back, him having to say goodbye to Tristan or this Emily girl. Or you. I’m worried that he’ll have another episode.”