Behind the Pine Curtain (7 page)

“A choice? Oh, that’s right! Daniel Thornton. That would have been a great marriage, both of us gay and all. Were you actually hoping for grandchildren?”

“Get out of my room!”

“That’s all you have to say? I’m disappointed, Mother. You always had such a vicious tongue.”

“I’m sure John Lawrence is behind this. And the first thing I’m going to do is remove him as counsel for this family. He had no right contacting you.”

“Yeah? He’s a good man. I’m actually staying with him and Mary.

They’ve been very gracious hosts.”

“I should have known. What do you want? Did you come back to stake your claim to your father’s fortune? Well you’re sadly mistaken, young lady. Your father despised you and your perverted lifestyle. You’ll not get a penny of his money. You made a laughing stock out of him.”

Jacqueline smiled. “Actually, I think it was you that made him a laughing stock, Mother. But no, I didn’t come back for money. I have plenty, thanks. And I owe that to you. My first novel, you may have heard of it.
No Place For Family.
” At her mother’s wide eyes, Jacqueline nodded. “Yes. I should thank you. The mother in the story was a carbon copy of you. I think they portrayed you well in the movie.

It was such a tragic death, though.”

“Get out of my room! Now, before I call security!”

“Security? They have security in Pine Springs?”

“You disgrace this family, and then you have the gall to show up at his funeral? As if you are a part of this family? How dare you? Can you imagine what the talk will be?”

Jacqueline laughed. “You know, that was always your problem, Mother.

So concerned with what everyone thought about you, about us. In fact, most people didn’t give a damn about our little family.”

“Your father owned this town. He was the mayor. He employed half the county. Of course we had to set an example for the people here.”

“An example? So as an example, you send your only daughter away because Brother Garner couldn’t
heal
her?”

“You are the devil’s child and I refuse to talk to you another second.”

Her hand moved, and she pushed a button several times. “And I will instruct them not to let you back inside this hospital again.”

“Don’t bother. I won’t be back. I just wanted to come by and let you know that I was in town. I’m sure Uncle Walter will fill you in after the funeral.”

A nurse rushed in, moving past Jacqueline to the bed. “Mrs. Keys, what can I do for you?”

“What you can do is escort this . . . this
person
from my room.”

“I don’t need an escort, Mother. I can find my own way. I always have.”

With that, Jacqueline turned and walked confidently from the room, wondering why she’d even come in the first place. What had she hoped to accomplish? Had she expected her mother to have a change of heart after all these years?

She was shaking by the time she got back in her car, and she gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to calm her nerves. What purpose had that served? None. Her mother was the same callous woman she’d always been. A part of Jacqueline had hoped that perhaps her mother had changed, that she would be glad to see her after all these years. But no. Her mother still wanted no part of her.

“Fine. Just fine with me,” she murmured, turning the key in the ignition and driving away in one motion, the tires squealing on the pavement as she accelerated. She glanced in the mirror and smirked. “Very childish, Jackie.”

Jacqueline turned onto the street that would take her to the First Baptist Church of Pine Springs. Through the trees, she saw it, perched on top of the hill, overlooking the town as always, watching the townspeople as they went about their daily lives. Brother Garner had the best view in town, sitting up here, judging people. Oh, she remembered his sermons on Sunday. She’d lived in fear of him. He seemed to know everything about everybody. And when her mother had hauled her up here, confessing to him that her daughter was a sinner, Jacqueline very nearly retracted the whole thing, just so that she wouldn’t have to sit and listen to him, face to face.

But in the end, she didn’t. She couldn’t. In fact, she told him to go fuck himself. She was nearly certain it was Brother Garner who suggested the bus to Dallas.

She parked away from most of the other cars, wanting to give herself some time to prepare. She should have made arrangements to meet Mary and John somewhere. The last thing she wanted was to walk into the church alone, imagining all eyes on her. But her trepidation lifted somewhat when she saw two familiar faces walking up the sidewalk.

She quickly got out of her car, hurrying to catch up.

“Hey guys.”

“Holy shit!”

Jacqueline smiled. “What?”

“No offense, Jackie, but seeing you in a dress and makeup is kinda like seeing my daddy in women’s underwear,” Rose teased.

Kay covered the smile on her face with her hand, but her shoulders shook.

“Very funny. I’d forgotten about your warped sense of humor, Rose.”

“But, you look cute. Doesn’t she, Kay?”

“Adorable.” Then Kay touched her arm. “Where will you sit?”

“With Mary and John, I guess. You guys want to join me?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Can you imagine the talk at the café come Monday morning?”

“Rose!”

“It’s okay. She’s probably right. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having some friendly faces around,” Jacqueline admitted.

“Are you sure it’s safe to walk in with you?” Kay asked. “Lightning bolts and all.”

“Ah, you’re both comedians today. But I think you’ll be safe.”

The three of them walked up the long flight of stone steps to the front door of the First Baptist Church, and Jacqueline ignored the curious glances they were receiving.

“Your reputation might be shot to hell, though,” she whispered to Kay.

“Truth is, I don’t actually make it to church all that much, Jackie.”

“No? Why?”

Kay shrugged. “Long story.”

“Well, it seems you have several long stories to tell me. Wonder when we’ll find the time?”

“Speaking of that. How long are you staying?” Rose asked.

“Into next week. I haven’t really decided. Of course, Mary may be tired of having a house guest by then. I think I may check out the new motel she was telling me about.”

“You can always stay with me,” Kay offered, the words out before she knew it.

“You’re just dying to become the town’s gossip, huh? Can you imagine? The Keys’s long lost lesbian daughter comes home for the funeral and stays with little Kay Garland, no doubt trying to convert her in the process,” Jacqueline said, eyebrows rising mockingly.

“Oh, please. You got me into so much trouble when we were young, I doubt anyone would even notice now.”

“Jacqueline. There you are.”

Jacqueline looked up as Mary Lawrence walked over. Jacqueline took her hand, then pointed at her two companions. “You know Kay and Rose, right?”

“Of course I do. How are you, ladies?”

“Fine,” they said in unison.

“I’ve asked them to sit with us. I hope you don’t mind,” Jacqueline said.

“Not at all. There is safety in numbers, after all,” Mary said with a smile.

“Kinda what I was thinking.”

“Your uncle is sitting for the family. He’s also doing the eulogy.”

Jacqueline nodded. “Good. Does he know I’m here?”

“Yes. John told him. Other than being surprised, he didn’t have much to say. Or not anything John chose to repeat.”

“Then maybe it won’t be such a big deal. I mean, it’s a funeral. And my mother is not here to cause a scene.”

Mary linked arms with her, leading her away. Jacqueline glanced over her shoulder, motioning for Kay and Rose to follow.

“How did that go, anyway?”

“About as I expected. She had me thrown out.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Once inside the church, quiet music was playing as people filed up the aisle. Jacqueline stopped. The casket was at the front, opened.

“You don’t have to go up,” Mary said.

“No, I should. I need to.” Despite everything, she wanted to at least say good-bye to him. And she needed closure.

“I’ll go with you,” Kay offered.

Jacqueline met her eyes, smiling gratefully.

“We’re sitting right there,” Mary whispered, pointing.

Jacqueline and Kay walked down the aisle with Rose following a few steps behind them. Jacqueline heard quiet murmurs, and she envisioned all eyes on her. Much to her relief, Kay reached out and linked arms with her, squeezing lightly on her hand.

Jacqueline was surprised at the emotion she felt upon seeing her father.

He looked nothing like the man she remembered. He had aged dramatically in fifteen years, the dark hair now mostly gray. She stood still, unaware that she was tightly holding Kay’s hand, squeezing almost painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kay whispered.

Then she felt Rose walk next to her, felt Rose’s hand at her elbow, and she relaxed.

“He looks much older,” she finally said, quietly.

“Yes.”

She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she dared not. Instead, she lowered her head and closed her eyes.
I wish we’d had some time to talk.

I think maybe you’d have liked me now. I . . . I made out okay.

Kay watched the woman beside her, wondering what thoughts were going through her mind. She also wondered what most of the congregation was thinking. She could hear the whispering. No doubt Jackie heard it, too. But Kay didn’t care what they were thinking. She only knew she had this overwhelming urge to offer Jackie comfort, strength. Not that she thought Jackie needed strength. She exuded nothing but confidence. She always had.

Jackie felt Kay’s hand squeeze her own and she straightened up, looking at Kay, meeting her blue eyes and nodding. They turned and made their way back down the aisle. Jacqueline looked around, seeing vaguely familiar faces and noting that, indeed, all eyes were focused on her. And on Kay, who still held her hand tightly. She wondered what they all must be thinking. But she didn’t care in the least what they were thinking.

She sat down next to Mary, and Kay and Rose followed suit. She was very thankful for their support, doubting that she could have done this without them. Before long, a hush fell as Brother Garner walked to the pulpit. He, too, had aged, but that voice, she would never forget it.

“We are here today to say good-bye to a great man, Nicolas Keys, taken prematurely from this life, only to be reunited with his God.”

Jacqueline shifted uneasily. She felt out of place. She didn’t belong in this town or this church. In fact, she’d not stepped foot inside a church since the last time she’d been here, fifteen years ago. She listened absently as Brother Garner read the obituary, noting without surprise that her name was not included with the surviving family members.

Then her Uncle Walter walked to the front, unfolding a piece of paper that he took from his coat pocket. He began to read, listing off the great attributes and accomplishments of her father, all stated without emotion.

And this was his only brother. God, what a screwed up family.

She felt a soft hand take hers, felt fingers entwine with her own. She turned, meeting Kay’s eyes.

“You okay?”

Jacqueline nodded, then bent closer to whisper into Kay’s ear. “Thank you for being here. I think I may have already run out if you weren’t.”

“They can’t hurt you.”

“No, they can’t.”

The service was all a blur to Jacqueline—the eulogy, the singing, the sermon. She was aware of Kay’s presence, of the hand that took hers occasionally, of eyes on her. Then it was over, and she stood with the others, walking silently out of the church. Some people turned to stare, those vaguely familiar faces. She thought she recognized Rene Turner.

The Turners had been friends of her parents and Rene had been a cheerleader, a path her mother had hoped Jacqueline would follow.

“You remember where the cemetery is?” John asked.

“Not really, no.”

“You can follow us.”

“I’ll ride with her,” Kay offered.

“Thanks.”

“It’ll all be over soon,” Mary promised, lightly patting Jacqueline’s arm as she walked past.

“I’m going to beg out of this part,” Rose said. “I’m sure the café will be busy with everyone in town. I better get back to help Mama.”

“Thanks for coming, Rose.”

“No problem. I always liked your father. You’ll make sure my sister gets home okay?”

“Of course.”

Jacqueline and Kay watched the others walk away, then looked at each other.

“Come on,” Jacqueline said, motioning with her head toward her car. “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”

“Yeah? Not used to the suits, are you?”

“Shorts. Jeans. Not much else.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Jacqueline stopped next to the shiny black car, gallantly opening the passenger door for Kay.

“Wow,” Kay murmured, running her hand over the smooth leather.

“It’s just a rental.”

“Showing off?” Kay guessed.

“Maybe.”

They crept along in line with the other cars, Jacqueline obediently turning on her lights like the others.

“Was that hard for you?” Kay asked.

“Odd. Not necessarily hard.” Jacqueline glanced at Kay. “I felt out of place.”

“I imagine you did. Could you hear the whispers?”

“Oh, yeah. Loud and clear.”

“Did it bother you?”

“No. I came for the funeral out of a sense of duty, I suppose. I don’t really give a damn what anyone thinks of me.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

“Do you blame me?”

“Of course not. Actually, I’m surprised you came back at all. I’m even more surprised you’re going to the cemetery.”

“Isn’t it expected?” Jacqueline asked.

“Expected? The immediate family, yes. Most people go out of curiosity.

With your mother not being there, a lot of the drama is gone.”

Jacqueline paused, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “I hardly consider myself immediate family. I wasn’t even mentioned in the obituary. Fifteen years removed from their lives, nearly the same amount of time I lived here, I really feel nothing, Kay.”