more than this house. Did you see it in the alley, Kenny?"
The room grew painfully silent. What could Kenny do but answer, still avoiding a direct glance at the younger woman.
"Yeah, Mary, I sure did."
"She drove all the way up from Nashville just to take care of me."
When he turned to level his impersonal gaze on Tess, what could she do but acknowledge him?
"Hello, Kenny," she said colorlessly.
"Tess," he said, so coolly she wished he hadn't spoken at all. The dorky hairdo was gone and so were the pimples. He wasn't a bad-looking man, taller than she'd have guessed, brown-eyed, dark-haired, with conservative lines everywhere. But so cold to Tess. After giving her the requisite hello, he turned back to Mary and dropped to a squat beside her chair, resting his fingertips lightly on her knees. "Well, now listen, you…" While he went on encouraging Mary with warmth and deep caring, Tess escaped from the table, ostensibly to get the coffeepot, actually to hide her mortification at being ignored. Tess McPhail, who'd had her picture on the cover of
Time
magazine, and who'd been invited to sing at the White House, and whose appearance on a stage made fans scream and chant and sometimes get held back by police. Tess McPhail got snubbed by that nerd upperclassman, Kenny Kronek.
"I'll be thinking of you in the morning," he said quietly to Mary, "and I'll be up to see you as soon as you're feeling up to it. Casey says to tell you hi and good luck and she'll be coming up, too, when she can. Now, you be good, and no dancing till the doctor tells you to, okay?"
Mary patted his hands and laughed. "My dancing days aren't over yet, Kenny, so you better keep your eye on me."
He laughed, too, and rose. "Good luck, Mary," he said quietly, then took her by both jaws, leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"Thanks, dear."
The kitchen was small. He turned to leave and found Tess in his way, the coffeepot clutched in her right hand, her eyes bulging with anger. '"Excuse me," he said, and moved around her as if she were a stranger on an elevator. When the screen door closed, she was left behind, blushing.
----
CHAPTER TWO
Tess McPhail was unaccustomed to being treated like a tree stump. Where she moved, people paid attention. Fans loved her. Radio stations vied for her interviews. People in restaurants asked for her autograph. Her agent thought she was the greatest female talent he had represented in his career. Her producer said she had an ear for a hit and the talent to perform it that had elevated his status to that of star in his own right simply for having worked with her. She had the business and home telephone numbers of all the hierarchy from MCA Records, who picked up their phones the moment they learned she was on the other end of the line.
Yet if Kenny Kronek had been a dog with a natural urge, he'd have raised his leg on her ankle.
The moment he left she slammed the coffeepot on the burner, spun to the table and began throwing some dishes into stacks. "Well!" she exploded, marching to the sink and whacking them down. "Since when did
he
become the man of the house?"
"Now, Tess, don't be ungrateful. There are lots of times when one of the kids can't get over here to help me, and
Kenny is more than willing. I don't know what I'd do without him."
"I could
see
that."
"Why, Tess, what are you so upset about?"
"I'm not upset! But he comes right in here like he owns the place! And who's Casey?"
"His daughter, and will you stop throwing my dishes around?"
"I suppose she walks in here without knocking, too!"
The truth hit Mary. "Why, Tess, you're upset because he didn't pay any attention to you!"
"Oh, Mother… really. Give me a little credit."
"I give you all the credit in the world when you deserve it, but not when you criticize Kenny. And I said to quit throwing my dishes around. You're going to break them."
"If I do I'll buy you some new ones. Just look at these old pieces of junk anyway! They're all chipped and the
The room grew painfully silent. What could Kenny do but answer, still avoiding a direct glance at the younger woman.
"Yeah, Mary, I sure did."
"She drove all the way up from Nashville just to take care of me."
When he turned to level his impersonal gaze on Tess, what could she do but acknowledge him?
"Hello, Kenny," she said colorlessly.
"Tess," he said, so coolly she wished he hadn't spoken at all. The dorky hairdo was gone and so were the pimples. He wasn't a bad-looking man, taller than she'd have guessed, brown-eyed, dark-haired, with conservative lines everywhere. But so cold to Tess. After giving her the requisite hello, he turned back to Mary and dropped to a squat beside her chair, resting his fingertips lightly on her knees. "Well, now listen, you…" While he went on encouraging Mary with warmth and deep caring, Tess escaped from the table, ostensibly to get the coffeepot, actually to hide her mortification at being ignored. Tess McPhail, who'd had her picture on the cover of
Time
magazine, and who'd been invited to sing at the White House, and whose appearance on a stage made fans scream and chant and sometimes get held back by police. Tess McPhail got snubbed by that nerd upperclassman, Kenny Kronek.
"I'll be thinking of you in the morning," he said quietly to Mary, "and I'll be up to see you as soon as you're feeling up to it. Casey says to tell you hi and good luck and she'll be coming up, too, when she can. Now, you be good, and no dancing till the doctor tells you to, okay?"
Mary patted his hands and laughed. "My dancing days aren't over yet, Kenny, so you better keep your eye on me."
He laughed, too, and rose. "Good luck, Mary," he said quietly, then took her by both jaws, leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"Thanks, dear."
The kitchen was small. He turned to leave and found Tess in his way, the coffeepot clutched in her right hand, her eyes bulging with anger. '"Excuse me," he said, and moved around her as if she were a stranger on an elevator. When the screen door closed, she was left behind, blushing.
----
CHAPTER TWO
Tess McPhail was unaccustomed to being treated like a tree stump. Where she moved, people paid attention. Fans loved her. Radio stations vied for her interviews. People in restaurants asked for her autograph. Her agent thought she was the greatest female talent he had represented in his career. Her producer said she had an ear for a hit and the talent to perform it that had elevated his status to that of star in his own right simply for having worked with her. She had the business and home telephone numbers of all the hierarchy from MCA Records, who picked up their phones the moment they learned she was on the other end of the line.
Yet if Kenny Kronek had been a dog with a natural urge, he'd have raised his leg on her ankle.
The moment he left she slammed the coffeepot on the burner, spun to the table and began throwing some dishes into stacks. "Well!" she exploded, marching to the sink and whacking them down. "Since when did
he
become the man of the house?"
"Now, Tess, don't be ungrateful. There are lots of times when one of the kids can't get over here to help me, and
Kenny is more than willing. I don't know what I'd do without him."
"I could
see
that."
"Why, Tess, what are you so upset about?"
"I'm not upset! But he comes right in here like he owns the place! And who's Casey?"
"His daughter, and will you stop throwing my dishes around?"
"I suppose she walks in here without knocking, too!"
The truth hit Mary. "Why, Tess, you're upset because he didn't pay any attention to you!"
"Oh, Mother… really. Give me a little credit."
"I give you all the credit in the world when you deserve it, but not when you criticize Kenny. And I said to quit throwing my dishes around. You're going to break them."
"If I do I'll buy you some new ones. Just look at these old pieces of junk anyway! They're all chipped and the
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