Magnolia City (26 page)

“A mountain in East Texas?” Lockett exclaimed, sending laughter scattering on both sides of her. “Hetty, dear, you’d better send your husband back to Montana if he’s looking for mountains.”

“The best part of all,” Kirb said, “is how Lloyd picked Rusk County. He drew a line from every major oil field in Texas and Oklahoma and they all converged in East Texas. He called it the apex of the apex.”

“The apex of the apex,” Cleveland sputtered, rattling with laughter.

The candle flames wavered as the men chortled till they coughed. Hetty wished someone would blow them out so she could shrink back into darkness. The laughter was scalding her ears. She glanced at Garret, then down at her finger bowl. She couldn’t meet the eyes of anyone at the table and couldn’t bear looking at her husband’s face, at his stare of embarrassed confusion, at his lips trying to open to speak, turning to her for an answer.

“Y’all are being rude to poor Mac here,” Clare said, trying not to laugh along with the others. “Cleve, can’t you put forward some advice at least.”

“Only this,” he said, pulling out a pen and scribbling across the cover of the Joiner report. “If you’re really serious about the oil business, young man, call this number. This fellow will get you a job as a cat skinner on the derrick floor.” He reached in front of his wife and dumped the package back in front of Garret. “In the meantime, don’t send me any more wild schemes. I don’t want to see your face again until your hair is so saturated with crude oil you can’t get the smell out no matter how many times you shampoo.”

“Yes, sir,” Garret murmured. Everyone watched him in silence. He stood and lifted the report off the table. “Go ahead and laugh, but you’re all my witnesses. I still believe in Dad Joiner. I still believe we’ll strike oil in East Texas.” Clare pulled him back down into his seat and took the papers from him, hiding them under the table. She smiled at Garret indulgently.

Someone placed a delicious-looking dessert in front of Hetty, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat it.

It wasn’t long before she felt people rising around her and saw shadows passing by the candle flames that had drawn her eyes in, mesmerized. Garret left to join the other men for a smoke, and she would have just sat there watching the maids clear the tables had not Lockett come over and squeezed into a chair beside her.

“I’m so glad I found you alone, Esther,” Lockett murmured in a conspiratorial tone. “I’m liable to bust! This is very confidential.”

“Oh—what’s that?”

“My dear, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you on this matter. After tonight, I fear I may be too late.”

Hetty snapped out of her trance and turned to face Lockett. “What matter?”

“Well, if you recall”—Lockett leaned in even closer, her eyes impaling Hetty—“I feel responsible for introducing Garret to Houston society. So I felt it my duty to investigate his family. I finally found out why Garret’s father didn’t finish out his term in the Senate. You need to hear this.”

“No, I don’t.” Hetty stood and slid out of her chair. She heard Lockett shouting after her, “But, my dear, it’s just not going to wash.”

The music throbbed around Hetty’s head, but she didn’t want to let it in. Ima’s skill was evident: Her fingers skimmed the keys as though she were brushing velvet, letting the soft etudes fall into the hushed hall, sending the sonatas pounding down the aisles of chairs that had been jammed into the drawing room of Bayou Bend. Hetty had rushed in at the last minute, alone, taking a seat too near the marble mantel. She thought the first half of the program would never end; she couldn’t breathe and the heat from the fire made her face feel even redder. Finally, the last note echoed through the wide room, and applause stirred itself out of the silence that followed. As soon as people stood, not a beat later, Hetty leaped up and threaded her way quickly down the aisle. She wanted to find her husband and leave before she had to face any of the people they’d sat with at dinner.

Hetty’s head swarmed with confusion. She had to get out of the crowded rooms and needed a cigarette in the worst way. She prowled the parlors and porches, keeping her face averted, avoiding friends she saw at a distance. She spotted Doris Verne and Winifred heading upstairs at one point but didn’t follow them. Instead, she wormed her way down the hall to the threshold of the Pine Room, where the men went to smoke. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t hesitate to barge right into that male enclave, even bumming a smoke off a startled stranger, but, tonight, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She hung in the doorway, watching the men moving about in their black evening wear, pouring themselves enough brandy to get through the second half of the concert. Kirb was at the gravitational center, passing out cigars like calling cards. Then, in a corner, she spotted Mac, or rather heard him first. His flask was out, of course, dancing in the air above the heads of the men who surrounded him. In a voice too loud even for this room, he was offering the group some “good stuff! Don’t worry, it’s Canadian.”

She panicked when she saw Lamar veering toward her. She stepped back into the dim hallway and turned away. But a shadow fell across her feet, and she heard his voice chasing after her.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“What do you mean? Where’s Char?”

“She went to the ladies’ lounge to powder something or other.”

“Char always was big on powdering.” Hetty turned to face him. His bow tie was askew as usual. His eyes studied her intently.

“You’re awfully flushed!” he said. “Embarrassed to face me?”

“It’s so hot in here. All those fireplaces. Didn’t Mother give you my letter?”

“That’s all I get? A Dear John letter? I deserve more than that.”

“Char told me not to call you.”

“Since when have you done what Char wanted you to do?”

“She said you didn’t want to talk to me. That I no longer had access to you.”

He shook his head.

“You mean that wasn’t true?”

“Just the opposite. I need some answers.”

A couple brushed by them. “This is not the place to talk about it, Lamar.”

“Where
can
we talk about it?”

“I don’t know. Some place more private than this.”

“How about the Diana Garden?”

Give me your answer in the Diana Garden.
Suddenly, Hetty remembered the note Lamar had sent her with his proposal, tied to a silver quiver filled with little golden arrows. “All right.”

He steered her through the central hall and under the colonnade in back. In the foggy dark, they felt their way down a series of grass terraces and across a long slanting lawn to a grove of trees where the goddess, draped in soft light, was reflected in the cold waters of a pool.

Hetty found herself falling back into the easy intimacy she used to share with Lamar, reaching into his tux pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes and bending close to him when he offered her a light.

She drew the smoke in hungrily, letting it settle her nerves. “Ummm. You always have such delicious cigarettes.”

“Only the best.” He chuckled.

She shivered. He slipped out of his tux coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Thanks—I guess I
have
to answer your questions now.”

“There’s only one,” he said, lighting his own cigarette. Plumes of smoke rose like confessions. “Why?”

“It just felt like the right thing to do. Nella had me feeling so trapped. Did I hurt you as bad as Char made out?”

“I have to admit I was stunned when I heard the news that you’d eloped. I couldn’t believe Mac had won you away from me.”

“I didn’t give you much of a chance, did I, my poor little Lam?”

“No, you didn’t. You disappeared out of my life just like that.”

“I’m sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

“I’ve waited a long time for that apology. I don’t know.” He seemed overcome for a moment. He looked away.

Hetty touched his cheek with her fingers. “Dear Lam. How can I make this up to you?”

He gave her a penetrating glance. “Kiss me.” He was still the trickster, she could see, daring her to do forbidden things.

She lifted her face to him. He moved in to kiss her on the mouth, but at the last moment, she turned her lips and kissed him on the cheek. Then she gave him a long, loving hug and whispered in his ear. “It broke my heart to return those beautiful gifts you sent me. Thank you so much.”

“Did you like them?”

“They were beautiful,” she said, pulling back. “Where did you ever find the silver quiver with the golden arrows?”

“Didn’t you know? We own a jewelry store.”

“Oh . . . that’s convenient.”

“I really thought that quiver would win you over.”

“It almost did. It was a very hard decision—I hope you know that.”

“You still haven’t told me why you chose him over me.”

Hetty thought for a moment before she answered. “Garret needs me more than you do.”

“That’s not true.
I
need you, too.”

“No, you don’t. You just
want
me—that’s the difference.”

“Don’t you mean
wanted
you? You are unavailable now, right?”

“Right. Sorry.”

He ground his cigarette out under his toe. “How is your marriage?”

“Oh, fine,” she said quickly. “Just fine.” She looked across the water at the statue. “That’s quite a piece of work, isn’t it?”

“Ima commissioned some sculptor in Florence to carve it. It’s copied from the Diana—”

“Of Versailles. I know. Mamá told me. She’s quite enamored of the huntress.”

They sat on a stone bench while Hetty gazed at the white marble figure spotlighted in a curve of yew trees. It was as if Diana were striding across the pool, reaching for an arrow to hand to Hetty. She could have dashed out of the yews only a moment before, searing a path through the misty woods with the cold fire of the moon. She was quick, this goddess, and merciless. Too hard and merciless for Hetty. Her face was turned away in profile, sharp, her eyes hammered with sheer grit out of the hard white marble. Hetty felt her shame cool in the night air as the bold light from the goddess blazed across the water.
What can you teach me?
she wondered.
What gifts do you give my mother? Icy shafts of willpower? Enough to endure the kind of life she’s had to live?
Hetty took a final drag and threw her butt into the water.
Sssst!

“I’m lying,” she said. “My marriage isn’t fine, as everyone could see tonight.” She told him what happened at dinner.

“I wondered why the men at your table were laughing so hard.”

“Now you know,” she said, feeling the goddess urge her on, “they were laughing at us. Cleveland was ruthless.”

“Cleveland
is
ruthless. They don’t call him Cleve the Cliff for nothing.”

“I was hoping Garret would wrap up a deal tonight and instead, look what happened. Dad sat there and let Cleveland make fools of us. I’m sure Mamá was pleased.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“You?”

“Yes, me. My last name
is
Rusk.”

“You’d still be willing to help me?”

“I’d do it for Charmaine.”

Hetty laughed. “So you haven’t forgotten?”

“I’ll always remember my little Charmaine.”

“Even after you’ve married my sister?”

Lamar chuckled. “You’d be my sister-in-law then—even more reason to help you.”

“But—what could you do?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to think about it. Give me your phone number. There’s a pen in my tux pocket.”

They heard a bell ringing from the back door. Hetty scribbled her new phone number on his pack of cigarettes. “I hope you’re not doing this just to get my digits. I am unavailable, remember?”

He broke out into a crooked grin.

When they stepped back into the central hall of the mansion, Charlotte was on the lookout for Lamar. The moment she spotted them, she strode right over and entwined her arm into his. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere. We won’t get a seat for the second half.” She was wearing a choker made entirely of diamonds.
Probably borrowed from their jewelry store.

“We’d better go in then.” Lamar tried to tow her away from Hetty.

“You’ll need your coat, Lam,” Char said, whirling him to a stop. Hetty stood there paralyzed. She’d forgotten that she was wearing it. Her sister came over and yanked it off her shoulders. She held it open so that Lamar could slide his arms into the sleeves. She brushed off the shoulders and turned him around to button it up, examining the coat while she did so. She turned him toward the drawing room and pushed. “Get us some seats, you scoundrel. I’ll be right in.” He staggered off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Char turned her chilling gray eyes on Hetty. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’re as horrible as ever.”

“And you’re still a flat tire, sis. I went outside for some fresh air—you know, a smoke, that’s all. Lamar happened to come along. I was cold. I asked for his coat. It wasn’t his fault.”
Why am I lying?

“I’m sure it wasn’t his fault. You make him do these wild things. That’s why you need to stay away from him. It’s not regular.” She lifted her chin with a haughty thrust, a thousand diamond prisms glittering across her pale white throat.

“It wasn’t true what you said in your letter, by the way. Lamar did want to talk to me.”

“Now the truth comes out. You’ve been talking to him!”

“All I did was apologize for hurting him. He needed to hear that. What harm can it do for me to talk to him? I
am
married now.”

“Oh! As if you’d let that stand in your way.
Your
name should be Ima Hogg!” Char’s shrill voice echoed through a sudden silence that had fallen over the hall. She clapped her hand to her mouth, then whispered vehemently to Hetty before rushing off, “Leave my boyfriend alone, damn you!”

As she watched her sister strut off, her white dress bristling with chandelier light, Hetty realized why she was lying.
I’m trying to protect Lamar from Char. Why should I care?