Under the Viaduct by H. Anderson (first e reader txt) 📗

slightest thing, she wanted to show him she could be strong and confront people if she felt the need.

“Huh,” he looked at Mama C, “did you tell her that?”

“I tell it like I see it.” Mama C sipped at her coffee.

Blayne shook his head and quirked his mouth into a half smile. “I don’t see you as a physical danger, obviously. But you might be an emotional—or just annoying—danger to her. So, I’m just here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I would never,” Kaylee started to deny that she was any such danger, but then remembered how their earlier conversation had ended. She cleared her throat. “I would never intentionally hurt her in any way.”

“And,” Mama C interrupted. “I’m sitting right here, you two young hooligans. And, if I feel she’s gettin’ too personal, I’ll just get up and walk away. Isn’t that right, young lady?”

Kaylee nodded and looked at Blayne. “But you’re welcome to stay anyway so I can prove to you how innocuous I am.”

He rolled his eyes. “Do all you college girls use big words?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Innocuous means…”

He leaned over the table, closer to her. “I know what it means.”

She squirmed in her chair and took a big sip of her still-steaming cappuccino. “Ow! Hot!” It burned all the way down until it splashed into her stomach.

The smirk on Blayne’s face turned to one of concern as the corners of his mouth wilted into a frown. “I’ll go get you some ice.” He pushed his chair back into the person sitting behind him and hurried to the counter to ask for a cup of ice.

“See,” Mama C said. “My Blayne isn’t so bad.”

Kaylee smiled despite her burning tongue and throat and watering eyes.

“Here.” Blayne slammed the cup of ice onto the table in front of her. “I’ve done that before. It burns all the way down. You should have spit it out.”

She crunched a piece of ice and let the coolness slide down her throat. “Don’t think I didn’t consider doing just that. I didn’t want to spray it all over you, though.”

He laughed for real this time. A beautiful, short laugh. “You’re my hero. Thanks for not spewing your fru-fru drink all over me. I’d hate to have to take this,” he gestured to his battered, dirty, worn coat, “to the dry-cleaners again so soon.”

“You’re welcome.” Kaylee smiled but didn’t quite dare to laugh at his self-deprecating joke.

“Let’s get started, shall we,” Mama C said. “I’d like to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Kaylee drew in a breath and sat the cup down. “Okay. We talked a little this morning about some of the kids, or young people, you help. Can you tell me more about them? About their backgrounds?” She glanced at Blayne then back at Mama C and quickly added, “Not names and stuff, just some general information.”

“You know theirs aren’t my stories to tell. You’ll have to come back to the viaduct with us and ask them yourself if you want to know their tales.”

Tapping her pen on the table, Kaylee tried not to show her frustration, even though she’d been sure that would be the woman’s answer. She nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that. How about just some general numbers? How long have you been homeless?”

“Right around ten years, I suppose.” Her eyes faded out of focus for a moment.

“About how many young people have you helped over the years?” asked Kaylee.

“Hmm. Now that’s a harder number to come by.”

While Mama C sipped her coffee and thought, Kaylee looked around the coffee shop. Two police officers in the corner stared at them and whispered. One caught her eye and frowned, mouthing “you okay” as he pointed at her. She nodded and smiled to show she was in no distress.

“What was that all about? Flirting with our fine men in blue, are you?” asked Blayne.

“No, no. I…he…”

“Oh, wait.” Blayne scowled. “I think I know what happened. He saw you here with us and was just making sure you’re okay. That we aren’t forcing you to be in our presence. Is that it?”

“There isn’t one thing wrong with that, Blayne,” Mama C said. “You know we look like a couple of deranged druggies in our old clothes and unbathed states. Now quit glaring at those nice policemen. Kaylee and I have things to discuss.

“Now, what was it you asked me?”

Kaylee looked at her notebook and answered, “How many young people have you helped over the years?”

“That’s right. I really don’t know. Could be fifty, could be a hundred. I don’t keep track. If they need help and are willing to live with my rules, they’re welcome.” She slapped her hand on the table in front of Blayne. “Stop giving the evil eye to those police.”

Blayne turned his gaze on Mama and softened it as he took in a breath. “I’m going to go get a refill, do you want one Mama C?”

“No, thank you.”

As Blayne made his way to the counter, Kaylee asked, “Can you tell me about any of your past kids? Not specifics, just in general? Why they became homeless maybe and if…if there were any happy endings?” Her eyes flicked to Blayne, his hand tapped his thigh in rhythm to the music playing over the store speakers.

“Oh, there are always happy endings, dear.” She patted Kaylee’s hand. “Sometimes…” her eyes glazed over again, “sometimes even death can be a happy ending.” She shook her head and focused on Kaylee. “The ones that do well are those who clean up their act and go back to their families. Unfortunately, not everyone has a family they can go back to.”

Was she referring to herself? Kaylee wondered.

Blayne sat back down with his refill. He shook his head. “I really miss my stereo.” He looked at Mama C. “We should be going soon. This place is getting crowded and I hate being stared at by these people who, you know, have a life.”

“Come on now, Blayne,” Mama C said. “You have a life,