Laughter in the Wind (11 page)

She gave Olivia a quick vocabulary lesson about the geography of the area. A
ridge
was easily understood to be a long, high run of land. A
holler
was the converse, a low place between ridges, but wide enough to form a
bottom
. A
draw
was a more narrow cut between ridges, sloping down steeply but not opening into a bottom. Olivia was amused to learn the new meanings, not realizing that only two hours away from her apartment in the city, people spoke a different language.

They placed the remaining chips and their cups into the bag, gathered their trash and stood, sweeping the dried grass and leaves from their clothing. Rebecca looked up from brushing off the back of her overalls to find Olivia facing her about a foot away. In all her bundled glory, she resembled an orange Michelin man. The cap turned backward over her riotous curls made her adorable. “I’m glad you brought me here,” she said as she stepped forward and rested her hands on Rebecca’s shoulders. Rebecca saw the fire in Olivia’s beautiful green eyes as she drew her closer until their warm lips touched. Rebecca closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the feeling of Olivia’s lips gently moving against her own. Rebecca stepped in and pulled Olivia as close to her as their padded bodies would allow. The kiss became more urgent as their passion grew, and Rebecca’s knees began to weaken when Olivia’s tongue touched hers and the kiss deepened. When she knew she couldn’t remain standing for another second, she broke away from the kiss. Olivia helped her balance as she took a sudden step to stay upright.

“Maybe it’s safer if I’m sitting down when you do that,” Rebecca said, sounding a little breathless.

“It does seem to produce a powerful reaction when we kiss, doesn’t it?” Olivia smiled. “I thought when I met you that you were something special but I had no idea you would be able to turn my world upside down with a kiss.” She had been slowly moving Rebecca backward as she spoke. “One more, before I go?” she asked. She pressed Rebecca back against the massive oak tree they had picnicked under, pinning her against it with her soft body. Not waiting for a response, Olivia captured Rebecca’s lips again.

Rebecca had nowhere to go with the tree behind her but she couldn’t have pulled away this time if she had wanted to. She felt everything else slip away as she became lost in Olivia, her lips, her hands caressing her face, then under her jacket along her sides and her back, under the layer of overalls, her hips pressing urgently against her as they kissed. A pressure was building deep within her and she knew she wanted to get closer, closer than she could through this winter clothing. The tree impeded her efforts to shrug out of her jacket and much too soon, she felt Olivia begin to ease away. Rebecca chased after her lips until Olivia placed a hand flat against her chest and gently pressed to still her.

After a few seconds, Rebecca felt the world begin to come back into focus around her. She felt a smile slowly spread across her face and she saw Olivia’s eyes gradually lose their fire, changing to banked embers. Rebecca wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever could follow that kiss, at least not out in the cold November air in the back corner of the pasture. She wasn’t even sure a body could stand to experience something beyond the feelings that filled her from that kiss. She already felt like she had been close to shattering. Although she was a little frightened to imagine feeling more, at the same time her body yearned for her to push forward. But the few seconds of separation had given her brain the upper hand so she broke the spell their bodies had created together and spoke softly to Olivia. “I guess we’d better go now…while I’m still able to walk.” She added the last part as she noticed her legs beginning to function again, helping the tree and Olivia support her weight.

Olivia stepped back slowly until she had released her completely. Retrieving the bag and Thermos, she held both in one hand as she grabbed Rebecca’s hand with the other. She led her down the path they had taken until Rebecca quickly came into step beside her. They exchanged smiles and smoldering looks until they neared Rebecca’s house. Then they dropped hands to climb the final fence and put a little more space between their paths as they crossed the yard to the back door.

Rebecca hoped she had herself under control as they walked into the kitchen where her mother sat at her favorite spot, this time reading the Sunday edition of the St. Louis paper.

“How was your picnic?” she asked. “It looks like that cold air chapped your faces a little, your cheeks are certainly red,” she noted, looking around the paper at the two girls.

“We’re fine,” Rebecca said, a little abruptly. “I’m going to walk Olivia out to her car. She’s got to get back and study some this evening,” she added, trying to distract her mother’s attention from their appearance. If her expression looked anything like Olivia’s, she realized, her mother must really be wondering what they’d been up to. Olivia’s dreamy expression, the starry eyes and disheveled cap and coat made a curious picture. Rebecca led her to the hall closet and they quickly removed their vests, caps and overalls and Olivia put on her own coat.

“Good-bye, Mom,” Olivia said, stepping around the table to give her a hug. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Olivia, you are always welcome,” she replied sincerely.

At the door, Rebecca turned. “Oh, yeah, Mom. Olivia and I talked about meeting next Saturday between here and the city for dinner and maybe a show.” When her mother raised an eyebrow, she continued quickly, “To go over any clues we might discover this week. The Buick has been running good, my studies are caught up and I wouldn’t be driving all the way in to the city. You know I’ll be careful.”

“We have to let you stretch your wings sometime,” her mother admitted. “Let me talk to your father, he worries about you getting too far from home. I don’t know how he’s going to survive when you go away to finish college.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Rebecca knew her mother would get her father to agree. She also knew her mother was just as upset at the prospect of her moving away as her father was, although she tried not to let on.

She ushered Olivia out of the house quickly, wanting to escape any further scrutiny from her mother.

The quick hug good-bye at the car was mutual, each cautious not to push through the other’s thin veneer of self-control.

“Call me,” Rebecca said, holding her phone up to Olivia. Olivia smiled and nodded, then drove away.

Rebecca was left standing by the road, feeling alone in a way she had never felt before, not here, not surrounded by a community full of relatives and friends. She watched Olivia’s car weaving its way around the potholes in the road until it disappeared over a small rise.

Chapter Nine

For the remainder of the day, Rebecca found things to keep herself busy, out of the sight of her mother for the most part. She studied in her room, trying to get ahead on any subject possible to reduce her study load for the following weekend. Olivia had sent her a quick text three hours after she left, letting her know she had made it back to St. Louis safely. That reminded Rebecca that she had promised Olivia she would try to find the census records. She retrieved the phone book from the living room and found the number of the Genealogical Society president. A quick call was all it took to set up a time to look at their records. Thursday at 6:30 p.m., she would meet him at the old courthouse. She texted the information to Olivia, who responded with,
Great work, Sherlock!
This only reminded her of Olivia’s flirting at the cemetery and she blushed slightly as she remembered how it had made her feel.

Knowing she could spend hours talking to Olivia on the phone, Rebecca made herself wait until 9:00 p.m. each evening that week before calling. They had decided she should be the one to call so her parents wouldn’t question Olivia calling so much. They spoke of their day at school, their favorite classes, their least favorite professors, Olivia’s cat, Pooh, and more. Each wanted to know everything about the other and even the mundane things sounded exciting.

Thursday evening, after going to the old courthouse, Rebecca didn’t think the clock would ever get to nine so she could call Olivia with her news. The clock in the kitchen was still chiming the hour as she hit speed dial.

“Dunlop,” she blurted out as soon as Olivia answered. “Ralph Dunlop.”

“Oooh!” Olivia squealed into the phone. “You found another piece of the puzzle!”

“I found more than that,” Rebecca added excitedly. “Mr. Johnson, the president of the Genealogical Society, heard me say the name when I found it. He said he used to know a Ralph Dunlop. He lived about fifty miles north of Springtown and was kind of a hermit. You know, he lived by himself in an old shack out in the country. He worked as a farmhand most of his life, according to Mr. Johnson.”

“Wow, you are a great detective!” Olivia sounded gratifyingly surprised at how much Rebecca had learned. “Did he know where Ralph lives now?”

“No, he’s not even sure he’s alive,” Rebecca said. “He said the old shack burned down about ten years ago and the few acres it sat on are all grown over with brush now.”

Olivia didn’t respond immediately, so Rebecca continued. “He lived in the next county north of us, so we can go to the courthouse there and look through their records.” With disappointment she added, “But that would probably have to wait until the semester ends. I can’t afford to miss any more classes.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Olivia. “I’m struggling to keep my mind on classes now. Let’s not worry about going there yet, maybe I’ll get more information when I talk to Uncle Steve next week. He’ll be at Grandmama’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”

They spent the next half hour sharing stories of previous Thanksgivings with their families. Rebecca’s memories were of a small house overflowing with aunts, uncles and cousins, with people sitting on the beds and the furniture and the floors throughout the house while they ate, until there wasn’t a place left in anybody to put another bite. Olivia’s memories contrasted sharply with hers: a large house, a large dining room table and the largest gathering she could ever remember numbering fifteen. Rebecca remembered noise, laughing, talking and joking, and everyone bringing food and preparing even more food when they arrived. Olivia remembered polite conversations around a meal prepared by others, followed by the men gathering in the den, the women in the formal living room and the children expected to play quietly in the nursery or read in the library.

Finally, they said their good nights, each knowing she had to hang up to finish studying for the following day.

* * *

Saturday morning after breakfast, Rebecca’s father left to help his brother work on some equipment. Rebecca washed the breakfast dishes for her mother.

“I haven’t seen much of you this week,” her mother commented from behind her paper.

“School’s kept me pretty busy,” Rebecca said, concerned over which way the conversation might be headed.

“How’s Olivia?” her mother asked, peering around the edge of her paper.

“Oh, uh, good, I guess,” Rebecca stammered, staring out the window in front of her.

“That’s good,” her mother said. “Are you still meeting her this evening?”

“Yeah, we’ve got it all set up. I’m leaving at four but I probably won’t be home until late,” Rebecca said, returning to scrubbing the skillet.
Maybe she’s going to let me off the hook.

“Just be careful, especially driving home that late,” she cautioned.

Rebecca had just started to relax when her mother continued. “I know you’ve been going through some changes lately, growing up, I guess. I also can see how much this friendship with Olivia means to you. Just know I’m here for you, regardless. I mean that,
regardless
.” She emphasized the last word.

After a few seconds of silence, Rebecca answered quietly, still not looking at her mother, “You’re right, Mom. I am going through some stuff but I think it’s all for the good. I’m starting to understand myself a little more, you know, what makes me tick.”

She paused a few seconds but her mother didn’t respond, so she continued. “I know I usually talk to you when I have a problem but this isn’t really a problem. It’s more like I’m figuring out
me
. As soon as I know for sure what I’ve learned, I promise I’ll talk to you about it.”

Her mother had set her paper down on the table to listen to this explanation. Now she seemed to choose her words carefully as if cautious not to push her daughter beyond what she was willing to share and eager to keep their lines of communication open. “Rebecca, turn around for a minute, please.”

Rebecca did as she was told and tried to keep eye contact as her mother continued. “After raising two other daughters, I thought you wouldn’t offer any new challenges. However, I think I’ve had the least to offer you in some ways, to help you get through your teenage years. These past few months, you’ve been struggling to find your own way. That makes you more independent and stronger than your sisters. That also leaves me feeling helpless when I see you struggle. Just know, even though I may not know how to help you, I’ll always love you and always be here for you. I believe you’re going to find the path you were meant to follow.”

Rebecca felt her eyes beginning to tear up and she hated crying. “Thanks, Mom. I love you, too. You give me just enough,” she said. “Just enough advice, just enough support and just enough freedom for me to be me. I hope I never disappoint you with the choices I make,” she added, thinking of Olivia.

Her mother held her gaze firmly with her own as she responded, “You have made no choices lately that have disappointed me.” Then, she lifted her paper again and added in a teasing voice from behind it, ensuring Rebecca would know what she meant. “Oh, by the way, enjoy your date tonight with Olivia.”

Rebecca knew she had intentionally used the word
date
from the way she emphasized it. She stared at her mother’s paper.
How did she know?
Sometimes, she thought her mother was a mind reader.
What about Dad, what had she told him?
Rebecca didn’t want to think about that yet.