Twice in a Lifetime by Dorothy Garlock Page A

town, Naomi knew that Tommy’s father had been killed in the war and that Clara had never remarried.
    But when Tommy had told her that his mother didn’t want him spending any time with her, that Clara thought she was trashy, the gloves had come off.
    Naomi figured that Clara was jealous. She had good reason to be; rather than waste her looks, Naomi planned on using them to get ahead. The second she got the opportunity, she was going to go to New York or Hollywood, someplace where she could be as famous as she deserved to be, and become a movie star or a singer. Maybe she would model clothes or jewelry, her face up on a billboard. Wherever she went, rich men would fall all over themselves, desperate to give her whatever she desired. Everything about Sunset, including Tommy Sinclair and his mother, would be faded memories; even their names would eventually be forgotten.
    But until then, she’d keep on having her fun.
    “Kiss me,” she said; he readily obliged.
    But then, just as Naomi began to wonder if she hadn’t been too hasty in keeping Tommy’s hands from roaming, his mother’s truck wheezed into the drive and parked outside.
    Naomi stiffened; though she took pleasure in rankling Clara, that didn’t mean she wanted to come face-to-face with her. But surprisingly, when she made to move, Tommy held her in place.
    “She can’t see us in here,” he said.
    In the end, it didn’t matter; Clara never looked in their direction, but instead headed for the house. Moments later, the screen door banged shut behind her.
    Naomi exhaled, embarrassed to find she’d been holding her breath.
    “You’d probably better get going,” Tommy said.
    “I can stay awhile longer,” she replied, her voice dripping with honey. “Now that she’s gone, we can get back to what we were doing.”
    But when she put her hands on his chest, Tommy took them away.
    “I haven’t talked to her in a while,” he explained, glancing at the house. “If I don’t show my face now and then, she gets a little nuts.”
    “So let her,” Naomi said with impatience.
    Tommy chuckled uneasily. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to deal with her guff.”
    Naomi watched him closely, her eyes narrowing. Once again, she wondered if Tommy wasn’t going soft on her, if her control over him wasn’t slipping.
    She may not have wanted to be with Tommy Sinclair forever, but when the day came for it to end, she wanted to be the one who walked away.
    “Fine,” she finally said, hopping down off the workbench. “But I’ll see you later, right?”
    “Yeah,” he answered, still distracted.
    Naomi grabbed him by the chin and turned his face to hers. “I’d better,” she warned. “I hate being disappointed.”
      
    Tommy said his good-byes to Naomi, pulling her close for one more kiss before she slipped out the garage’s side door. He wiped her lipstick from his mouth, took a deep breath, and then crossed the yard toward the house, steeling himself for another unwanted and unwarranted lecture.
    Ever since his mother had gotten him at the jail, Tommy had done his best to avoid her, sneaking into the house late at night after she’d already gone to sleep, then rising before her, even if it meant arriving at school so early that the janitor hadn’t unlocked the doors.
    So far, so good, but like he’d told Naomi, he still needed to see his mother every now and again, even if the thought filled him with dread.
    Through the kitchen’s open window, Tommy heard a voice; it was his grandmother, surely talking with his mother. He could only imagine what would be said the second he walked through the door…
    Where have you been?
    Stop throwing your life away!
    Naomi doesn’t care about you, not the way you think she does!
    What would your father say if he could see you now?
    Tommy gritted his teeth. Even the way he carried himself was defensive; his hands stuffed into his jeans, his shoulders slumped as his eyes looked down at his