Chapter 9

In the span of a few days' time Billie found herself again at the Hancock household. To her dismay she did not immediately see Jimmy, a slight conclusion coming inside of her that the trip to her friends house had been wasted. Right away she took the notion back; she did love her friend, and it was she that was her first concern, not some uncle who hardly knew she existed. Still, the young woman looked up rather quickly to see who was passing through the doors and listened extra carefully to noises around the household, intending to hear that distinct voice.

Mary had been rather quiet all day. Through school she seemed detached but still wanted Billie to come over for dinner. The difference in her friends behavior caused Billie to wonder how she would think, feel or react if she knew her feelings toward her uncle. If it would cause her to be so gloomy she would no doubt be torn with guilt. In reality Mary was feeling sick and sometime in the late afternoon complained of a wretched stomach ache and withdrew to bed. She was terribly sorry to abandon her friend but urged her to stay for the meal, the one she would not attend, and Billie used her time to help prepare the dinner.

The voice that Billie so longed to hear was a good distance away. John had gone into town a few miles out, enough that the atmosphere turned more urban than rural, having small business to attend to. After the robbery in Chicago the gang had split up, John living as he had been with his sister there in Indiana. The others went to their safe zones, staying with family or picking up girlfriends. Soon they would have to reunite again and another robbery would no doubt be planned. A couple thousand dollars was enough of an amount to keep John content for some time. Some of the other men could run through it in days.

He couldn't stay with Audrey forever. She had enough of her own kin to fill the house and take care of. Quite characteristically he would feel like nothing but a burden if he overstayed his welcome- something his sister would almost never admit to even if it were the case. The gang could reside in a hotel or apartment complex in town as per usual. It was still a wonder how they hadn't been found yet for the gang was rather habitual. John hated to think that he was due for some kind of justice, but he would never stop running. He'd been punished before, served eight years, and didn't intend to ever repeat that history. The longer he stayed with his sister and her family they were all the more susceptible to danger.

As the sun started to set the man returned to the farmhouse. There would be dinner waiting for him at home. Though he hadn't had a secure place to stay in years he still considered that place home. He entered through the font door without a word and went to the kitchen simply out of habit. Once there his pace slowed when he realized Billie was sharing the room with his sister. The two women cut and peeled, stirred and measured. It was strange to see her there without Mary, working alongside his sister with the obvious preparation of a meal. When he walked in she'd looked over her shoulder, seeing him and her lips smiling.

He felt the way he would if a beautiful woman across a smoky dance hall had given him the eye and a flirtatious smile. This was a girl in a kitchen stirring a bowl of batter. Still, the smile was his. She had given it to him and only him, with intent and meaning only he could perceive. She had done it without effort, leading him to wonder if she knew any of her effect. It was instinctual for him to smile back, but instead of doing it out of his own confidence, he too did it out of comfort.

Audrey glanced to her side and noticed Billie's attention elsewhere. Following her gaze she saw her brother, standing close to the door and observing the scene. When the siblings' eyes met John tried to put his focus back in the present. "Where's Mary?" he asked, his question pointing out Billie's presence and the oddity of it there, alone, cooking dinner. The elder woman went back to her work, answering as she continued.

"She's sick, upstairs."

"Oh..." He moved on to get a glass of water. He had received a short answer, with no indication of getting another one, leaving himself to assume it had happened during Billie's visit and out of politeness she was assisting with dinner. With the cup in his hand he moved to the sink, the faucet already running, having to squeeze between the girl and his sister to access the water. Lightly, in a motion he would have done to almost any female in the family, he barely placed his hand against Billie's back in a gesture to say she didn't need to move for him; he would be gone in a second.

As water filled the glass he realized he was touching her. Her. Had he forgotten, in a fleeting second, that she was not familiar, not family, but still relatively a stranger and the touch was inappropriate? The ease of naturalness had caused him the mistake; even as they glanced to one another there was nothing awkward about it. She gave him another smile, this one more eager, and in the close confines he was sure his own looked quite the same.

His eyes, in the short distance from her own, caused Billie's heart to pace rapidly. This was not due to the color, the vividness of the brown hues though they were wondrous, but for the simple fact that they were looking at her. That combined with his touch, barely even there, gave her a rush unlike anything she'd experienced before. There was a light scent of aftershave as he moved. When he'd left she was aware of him still in the room. Curiously she turned the other way than she previously did and was able to see he had taken a seat at the table. He sat on the side with the clear view of her. Smiling again she leaned against the counter, taking his gaze head on.

He did sit in that particular seat with every intention to watch her. His smiles were replaced with his mischievous smirk, it growing more cocky when she turned around and held his stare with confidence. He'd had a quick look at her waist and where her dress fanned out around her hips to the skirt before she'd changed the view. While she held his eyes he didn't, with a strong effort, let them dip or linger any lower.

"What salad dressing do you like?" she asked him, still stirring the bowl she rested in her arm.

He took in the question, wondering if she asked out of her own curiosity for something to say or if they needed to choose for the meal. His first guess was right but Billie asked such a thing to camouflage her intent to bring him into conversation. He considered a moment before answering. "I like Italian."

She did too and smiled while thinking of her next question. "Pepper?"

He gave a nod. "Yes."

"And on your potatoes?"

"Everything."

He liked the way her voice sounded when she mentioned everyday foods. Her pronunciation of regular things made them seem brand new. Audrey looked over at the two, listening to their speech back and fourth. She gave a smile of her own. "And poached eggs and firm broccoli. Ever since he was a little boy."

John smiled at his sisters memory and the correctness of her words. She had always been like a mother to him, this knowledge further proving the fact. Billie enjoyed the woman's association. She liked to hear more information about the man and the fact that Audrey didn't suspect her infatuation. She continued safely.

"How do you like your steak cooked?"

"Well done," John and Audrey said in unison. Satisfied with this new enlightenment Billie turned around, busying herself with things on the counter.

Now that the food had been mentioned he realized his appetite. "Now that you're talking about this steak I'm hungry!" With another view of her back John was now free to gawk. He couldn't deny being slightly obsessed with the shape of her. She wasn't too curvaceous or buxom; she was a small girl with a small figure, but it did have a shape. Maybe it was that. How she could be so petite and still reek of woman. Still have breasts and hips and legs in perfect proportion to herself. Eying her calf and the curve it made to the back of her knee, he saw just a teasing bit of her thigh before the skirt eliminated all view. Maybe he was hungry for other things.

"Oh, well that's too bad," she said, speaking over her shoulder again. "We're not having steak." For the first time she looked to Audrey and the two women laughed.