Not a Chance(39)

Arden got the feeling he was talking more to himself than to her. She turned to face him. "Are you okay?"

He kept staring ahead, his hands still on the wheel. "I got to go home and change for work," he said.

"Oh." Arden turned back to face forward. There was more awkward silence. Arden didn't know why Travis was being so cold toward her. And she was getting the feeling he was waiting for her to get out of the car. She looked at him. "Are you going to make me open my own door?"

He didn't look at her. His jaw tightened and he got out of the car, slamming the door shut. She waited while he opened hers. When she got out, he opened the door to her car. She didn't get in. "Are you okay?" she asked again.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm fine," he said. "Just sad for the Raymers, that's all."

Arden knew something else was bothering him. She took a guess. "I heard about your wife..."

"God," Travis cursed, shoving a hand through his perfect hair and messing it up. "Ex-wife. Ex."

Arden pressed her lips together and nodded. "How's she doing?"

He shook his head. "I have to get to work, Arden."

"Then tell me what's bothering you so I can be on my way."

"Nothing's bothering me. I just got back from a fucking funeral and I'm a little depressed. Is that okay?"

Arden ignored him, searching for something else, some other reason he was rejecting her like this when usually he wanted to spend every spare second with her. "That Kristen chick seems nice," Arden said.

Travis froze, a hint of a mischievous grin lightening his face. "Are you jealous?"

Arden laughed. "Of course not."

His shoulders slumped and the grin vanished. "I didn't figure. She said she asked you if it would bother you for us to go out."

"And I told her no. You're my friend. I want you to be happy."

Travis gave her a look of mild disgust. "That's very big of you," he said.

Arden drew herself up.

"Now it's been lovely, but I really have to get home and change."

Fine, Arden thought. I give up. She started to get in her car as he walked away, but then she paused. "You look great in that suit," she said.

He turned around and grinned. "I look pretty good out of it too, if you care to come find out."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "That's better," she said. Then she hopped in her car and drove to school.





Travis changed back into his grubby jeans and flannel shirt. Tonya was sitting on the edge of his bed watching. He'd told her to leave, but she wouldn't. Anyway, what did he care.

"You still got my name tattooed on your shoulder," she said. "How come you didn't get it removed."

Travis shrugged. "I loved you once. No sense denying it."

Tonya looked down at her feet. "I never did mean to hurt you."

"Save it, Tonya. I'm over it. And I have to get back to work."

"So you're just going off and leave me again?" she asked.

"It's called having a job," Travis said. "When you have one of these jobs, you don't have to mooch off your ex friends and family members."

"Is that all you think of me? I'm just some freeloader?"

"Well what should I think of you, Tonya? You come here expecting me to help you, and yet you have no plan for what to do after this baby comes. How can I help you when I don't know where it is you want to go with your life?" He finished buttoning his shirt, shoved into his denim coat and grabbed his car keys. "I'll be at the shop if you need me. You've got my cell number."

"Can I come with you? I'm tired of being cooped up."

He looked at her, frail and extremely pregnant. She looked like she needed to be in bed. But how should he know? "Tell you what," he said. "You can have the car for the day. Just drop me off at work and go do whatever it is you want to do."

She smiled brightly and Travis had a brief glimpse at his high school sweetheart. He smiled back, feeling sad inside.

When he got back to his office there was a new computer sitting on his desk. A flat screen monitor. Everything about it was smaller and more modern. His old one had been about twelve years old. Big and clunky and slow. Travis strode to the door that led to the garage and flung it open. "Neil!" he shouted.

Neil popped up from behind a pickup truck. "I made it better, Travis. Merry Christmas."

"Fuck you. Get in here. Now."

Neil's smile vanished and he marched slowly into Travis's office. Travis stood behind his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. Neil had been threatening to do this for a couple of years and Travis kept telling him no.