My Give a Damn's Busted (21 page)

“I was thinking a black and white wedding would be nice. Will you be coming with Ru… I mean, Larissa?” Doreen asked Hank.

His face lit up.

A smile tickled Larissa’s wide lips but she firmed up her mouth and refused to let it materialize. He would not be going with her. No siree! He’d shot that idea down like a bird out of a tree when he betrayed her trust in him. Hayes Radner could go with his mommy dearest.

“I’m invited?” he asked.

“Sure, come with your mother.”

He groaned. “Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t,” Victoria said. “I refuse to ride on a plane with you if you wear cowboy boots and a hat.”

“You are still invited,” Doreen said.

Victoria stuck her tongue out at her.

Larissa spewed coffee across the table, spraying the front of Rupert’s white shirt. “You are acting like children. Boy, I had the whole bunch of you pegged wrong. I thought you were all stiff-necked aristocrats and you are nothing but pissy teenage girls.”

Victoria tilted her head up and looked down her nose at Larissa. “I am a stiff-necked aristocrat and I do not like you. It’s only with Martha and Doreen that I’m like this. They and you bring out the very worst in me.”

“Well, butter my fat ass and call me a croissant. Don’t you lay the blame on us. You always were the worst of the bunch of us,” Martha said.

“Ladies. Rupert. Hank. It’s been an education. Thank you for talking me into staying, Rupert. I’ve got to get on the road toward home. Mother, walk me out to my car.” Larissa stood up.

“I’ll walk you out,” Hank offered.

“No, you stay here and keep your mother in line. I’ll go with her,” Doreen said.

Hank set his mouth in a firm line. “Keep my mother in line? That’s an impossible job. I’d rather walk Larissa to her car.”

Larissa wore jeans and a tank top that morning. Her hair was down and she had on very little makeup. He could almost taste the sweetness of a lingering kiss.

“It’s a big job, always has been. But you’re Henry’s son and you can do it. And I’ve still got a few things to say to Larissa before I let her go. Come on, my child. We’ve got a lot to talk about and a very short distance.”

Larissa looped her arm in Doreen’s. It was the first time Doreen had referred to her as her child and it felt good.

When they were halfway across the lobby, she asked, “Why did you change your mind?”

“About what?”

“Me? Telling me about my father. Accepting my Honky Tonk lifestyle.”

“I’m in love. Thank Rupert for all of it.”

“Why Rupert? You’ve always gone for young men.”

“I’m fifty this year and this is the first time in my entire life that someone needs me to be happy. It’s intoxicating to think that someone actually needs me. Not that I need them or that they are providing for my every whim. I’m needed. My parents didn’t need me to be happy. None of the men in my life needed me. Hell, Larissa, you didn’t even need me. Rupert does. He says without me he’s only half a man. I’m happy with him. I’ve found my soul mate. But don’t get too comfortable in that mud you live in, darlin’, because I’d still do anything to shake you out of it. Telling you about your father was something that needed to be done. Do with it what you will but I don’t want to know about it. Promise me that much?”

“I promise. You’re not going to shake me out of my Honky Tonk or my turquoise house, Mother.”

“And you saying that isn’t going to make me stop trying. You won’t back out of coming to Italy for the wedding, will you?”

“I promise I’ll be there. Why there, though? Why not in Perry?”

“Because my home is in Italy and that’s where I want to be married. Now give that handsome young valet your ticket and call me when you get home. This has been a wonderful weekend. I love the fact that my daughter got the best of Victoria Radner. I’ve been trying for years and couldn’t get the job done.” She smiled.

Larissa kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad I came. It was worth the fifteen grand.”

***

Janice, Betty, and Linda were at her house before she had time to call Stallone inside and give him a handful of treats. Janice brought a pound cake and frozen peaches. Betty set about making a pot of coffee and Linda helped carry in the last of her bags.

“Were any of you at the Tonk the last couple of nights? Did Sharlene do all right by herself? What’s happened in town?” She bombarded them with questions after she threw her bags in her bedroom.

“One thing at a time. You want whipped cream or ice cream on your peach shortcake?” Janice asked.

“Ice cream.”

“We were at the Honky Tonk both nights. Sharlene did just fine. She got busy once and Tessa helped out behind the bar. She filled beer jars and Sharlene made drinks. Not much happens in Mingus in a year’s time, so nothing happened in two days, darlin’.” Janice topped the peaches with ice cream.

“So Tessa and Luther?”

“Are still in love and fighting it. Like I said, two days ain’t two years,” Janice said.

She dipped into the ice cream and peaches. “I feel like I’ve been gone two years.”

“Then you are truly at home in Mingus. If you miss this place it has to be home,” Linda said.

“Hey, hey, where are y’all?” Sharlene called from the door. “I was out in the backyard and saw your car go by the Honky Tonk so I came right over. Someday I’m going to buy a fancy little car like that and go to big old fancy fundraisers in Dallas. How did it go? One of my co-workers covered it for the newspaper said it was a riot. That the artist decided to have a slave auction and sold off the men. The story is going to hit the paper on Monday. Tell me what happened before it does so I can gloat next time I see her. I hope there’s more of that shortcake or else you’re all going to have my spoon in your bowls.”

“There’s plenty,” Janice finally slipped a word in when Sharlene had to suck up a lung full of air.

“Well hot damn! That means I get all I want. Sit still. I’ll help myself while Larissa tells us about the party. Did one sorry sumbitch really bring fifteen grand? What fool gave out that kind of money for a man? Hells bells, the best of the lot wouldn’t be worth a third of that on a good day and the worst, well, shit, a dollar ninety-eight wouldn’t buy their sorry asses.”

“That would be me,” Larissa said.

The three older women stopped eating and stared at her.

Sharlene set off on another river of words. “God, this is good. Did you make this pound cake from scratch? I’m going to learn to cook one of these days. Momma said the only way to catch a man was to learn to cook and I wasn’t too damned interested in any of the men in Corn, Oklahoma, so I wasn’t too… what did you say, Larissa?” she asked when Larissa’s answer sunk in.

“I said the fool who gave fifteen grand for the sorry ass man was me,” Larissa answered.

Sharlene stared at her like she had two heads and both of them were sprouting devil horns. “Was the check hot?”

“No, it was good.”

“Was the man hot? Good God, did Martha auction off someone like Blake Shelton or Josh Turner?” She named two young country music artists.

“No, I paid fifteen large for Hank Wells.”

Janice gasped. “You didn’t!”

“I did. I bought him and he had to be my slave,” Larissa said.

“I expect you’d better talk while Sharlene is speechless,” Linda said.

Larissa licked the last remnants of peach juice from her spoon. “It’s a hell of a long story.”

“I’ve got until opening time tomorrow night,” Sharlene whispered.

“We’ve got until night church starts. That’s four hours. You better get started,” Betty said. “I’ll pour the coffee and we’ll go to the living room. Get comfortable, girls. I think this one might be even better than the gossip session of the Sunday school ladies after the town meeting.”

“Trust me, it is,” Larissa said.

Larissa awoke to the hum of voices. She put a pillow over her head and convinced herself that she’d left the television on the night before. It could play on and she’d go right back to sleep. She shut her eyes tightly and imagined a black wall but suddenly it was filled with pictures of Hank. A woman damn sure couldn’t sleep with those images. So she forced herself to count fluffy sheep jumping over a white picket fence. She got to three before the shepherd popped his head around the end of the fence. And he was Hank in a shepherd’s robe that was open halfway to his waist. Her imagination started thinking about how easy it would be to pull that string around his waist and let the wind do the rest.

She’d already given up on time-honored recipes for insomnia when Stallone jumped up on the bed. His breath smelled of fresh cat food and he settled down right beside her nose to wash his tail end. She remembered distinctly putting him out the night before because she had to do it twice. It had been raining and he dashed back inside the warm, dry house before she could shut the door.

She sat up and got a whiff of coffee aroma from the kitchen. The ladies never came before noon and she hadn’t told Sharlene where to find the hidden key. Only the ladies and Luther knew that it was under a rock in the flower bed. She checked the clock. Eight thirty. That meant she’d had less than six hours of sleep. Whoever had let the cat inside and was talking on her porch had better have a damn good reason to wake her up.

She didn’t bother with a robe but plowed through the kitchen and living room, out the open door, and onto the porch. “Luther, what in the devil are you doing talking to yourself on my porch at this ungodly hour of the morning? Go to work and let me get some sleep.”

He was sitting on the porch step with a cup of coffee in his hand and a pitiful look on his big round face. “Me and Tessa had us a big fight. I don’t want to go to work and face her.”

She popped her hands on her hips. “Whose fault was it?”

He hung his big round head and looked sheepish. “Mine?”

She sighed. “I’ll get a cup of coffee and you can tell me all about it.”

“Don’t need to. I been here an hour. Made coffee and me and Stallone visited for a while. I got to get me a cat. They’re right good listeners and they don’t tell a man to do something stupid like ignore the problem and it’ll go away,” he said.

Larissa yawned. “Well, if you and the tomcat have it all worked out, I’m going back to bed.”

Luther held up a hand. “Wait a minute. I didn’t say that. Stallone got to whining for food so I let him in and fed him.”

Larissa must’ve been even more exhausted than she’d realized. She hadn’t even heard Luther and he didn’t move like a twinkle-toed fairy. “Okay, then I’ll get a cup of coffee and you can finish telling me what’s happened before you go to work.”

“Naw, I’m going to work and me and Tessa going to get this all settled before it eats a hole in my heart. I couldn’t even sleep last night for it. I don’t have to be to work until noon every day but I can’t wait that long to get it done,” he said.

“But that’s not fair. You wake me up, let my cat in the house, and I don’t get to hear the story. Will you tell me tonight before we open the Tonk?”

“I’ll tell you,” a voice said to her right.

She whipped around to see Hank sitting in one of her newly painted bright orange rocking chairs. She blinked a dozen times but the apparition did not go away like it did when she opened her eyes in the bedroom. He wasn’t a shepherd but his shirt was undone almost to the waist.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Luther shook Hank’s hand and lumbered out across the yard to a company truck. “I’m going to work now. Hank, if you see that rascal Hayes, you tell him to keep the hell out of the Honky Tonk. I’ll still wipe up the parking lot with his sorry ass if I ever see him again.”

“I can do that but I don’t think he’s got the balls to show his face in Mingus again,” Hank said.

Larissa melted into the other rocker before her legs completely failed her and she fell on her face out in the yard. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m sitting on your porch pretending that road out there is the ocean and I’m in a beach house that is supposed to look like this. If I threw some hay up on the roof, it would help the effect even more. Seriously, it don’t look as bad as I thought it would all painted up like one of those doll houses you buy little girls at Christmas,” he said.

His boots were worn down at the heels, his jeans faded, and his straw hat stained. It was Hank, all right, and he looked very, very fine. The devil in blue jeans on her front porch. But was it Hayes in cowboy clothes? That fool man couldn’t be trusted at all, period, A-damn-men, and he might don Hank’s clothes just to get even with her.

“What are you doing in Mingus on a Wednesday? I could understand a Saturday but this is the middle of the week. Aren’t you supposed to be behind a big desk in a corner office of Radner Corporation?” she asked.

He started at her bare toes and slowly made his way up her legs to the knit nightshirt stopping at knee level, on up to a picture of Betty Boop on the front, and then to her face. Lips begging for the first morning kiss even though she’d still taste like sleep. Eyes that he could fall into forever. Hair mussed from the pillow. A very faint smell of smoke still in it which said she’d been too tired to shower after work. So that meant she’d had a busy night at the Honky Tonk.

His eyes were on a journey and every inch they traveled set another bit of her skin on fire. She wanted him to look at the cat, at the pretend ocean again, anything at all but at her. When he reached her hair her scalp tingled.

“Are you going to stare at me or answer me?” she snapped. If he touched her she would burst into flames.

“I quit my job and Dad put me to work permanently at the ranch,” he said.

“Why?” Her insides quivered.

Hank was home.

He would be living on the ranch.

“Hayes and I had this big fight. I won.”

“Oh?” she said.

He’d put Hayes to flight. She should be jumping for joy but down in the depths of her soul, she knew the other shoe could drop any time. There was always the possibility that things would be great for a few weeks, then he would get restless and the shoe was only dangling by a thin string. She couldn’t go through the pain again. Garth Brooks sang a song where he said he could’ve missed the pain but he would have had to miss the dance. Well, Larissa had danced and had the pain. Her heart couldn’t take a repeat performance and keep beating.

“What happens when you have another big fight because Hayes has gotten restless at the ranch and wants to go home to his fancy apartment and go to parties where his cute little ass brings fifteen grand on the auction block?” she asked.

“Then I’ll win again. I’m stronger than he is and I’m finally doing what I should’ve been doing for years. I’m going to refill my coffee cup. You want one?”

“Yes, I would,” she said.

She drew her feet up into the chair, stretched her nightshirt down to cover her toes, and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her hair billowed out around her face when she plopped it forward resting her chin on her knees. Her sweet little world she’d found with a plastic headed thumbtack had just been blown to smithereens. A Hiroshima-type bomb couldn’t have done a better job. Hank was going to be a full-time rancher and Luther had even made friends with him again. Sunday morning she was driving to Perry and pulling that map down again. Surely she didn’t belong in Mingus anymore.

“Here you go,” he said.

She brushed her hair back and reached for the mug. “Thank you.”

Using one finger he tucked a strand behind her ear. “You missed one.”

His touch was as soft as a butterfly kiss. How could something that gentle feel like dynamite exploding in her heart? “Now I know what you are doing in Palo Pinto County. Tell me what you are doing in Mingus and on my porch.”

“Waiting for you to wake up so we can talk,” he said.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. At least you didn’t come out here throwing rocks and threatening me with a restraining order is a good start. We’ll build on that. It’s enough for one day. I’m here and I’m not leaving,” he said softly.

“You going to live on my porch forever? If you got a dumb ass notion like that, darlin’, then I might have to think about a restraining order or else talk to Henry about committing you.”

Hank chuckled. “You know what I mean, Larissa. I’m back in the area and I’m here to stay. Get used to seeing me around.”

“You’ll get bored,” she said.

“Can’t. This summer when I was here Dad said that he was ready to retire. He’d sell the ranch and put part of the money into a trust fund for me or else he’d give me the ranch. I had a year to think about it. It took less than a month to figure out where I really want to be. So I can’t leave. Besides, Mother is one pissed off woman. I’m not sure I could crawl back into her good graces.”

“You’ll hate it in a year.”

“You’ve been here almost a year. Do you hate it?”

“Hell, no!”

He set the empty cup on the porch and rose up from the rocker, reminding her of the day at the lake. That hot afternoon she’d likened him to a Greek god with water sluicing over his muscular body. That fall morning he stretched and became a flesh and blood mortal that she liked even better than the mythological god from the past, but she wasn’t falling into a relationship with him again. She still didn’t trust him, not even if he did just make a big declaration about being a rancher and putting Hayes Radner on the run.

“I rest my case. Thanks for the coffee and the visit. I got to get on down to Stephenville. Dad needs a tractor part and that’s the only place that’s got one available right now,” he said.

She sipped the coffee. “That is a crock of shit. Mineral Wells is a hell of a lot closer than Stephenville and I bet they’ve got tractor parts.”

“You’d have to see the tractor. Mineral Wells doesn’t have any antique tractor parts dealers. There’s an old feller in Stephenville who has a tractor graveyard. When Dad needs a part he can find it there. Want to come along?”

She shook her head. “I’m going back to bed.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

She left half a cup of coffee on the porch and went straight back to bed. But she couldn’t sleep. Everything that had happened from the time they’d been introduced by a deer to that morning played through her mind like a television movie. There he was with the hot Texas summer wind blowing his shirt out while he cussed and ranted about the damn deer; on the bar stool in the Honky Tonk; dancing with her; baling hay; painting the house. Trust building with each passing day only to be broken like a thin crystal wine glass when it hits a concrete floor.

Finally she threw the pillow at the wall and jumped out of bed. She stormed into the kitchen and ate three chocolate chip cookies. That didn’t help so she drank milk straight from the jug and still felt restless. She made a circle through the house. From her bedroom, through the kitchen where she picked up another one of Linda’s chocolate chip cookies from the table and ate it as she paced, through the living room, the spare bedroom, short hall, and back to her bedroom. Twenty minutes and dozens of rounds later she fell back on the sofa.

She would not run away. And she wasn’t putting a tack on a map again. It had worked the first time but she wasn’t pulling up roots and leaving her home. Hank Wells wasn’t making her sell out any more than Hayes Radner had

The clock said it was ten o’clock and it was Wednesday. That meant the ladies would be out of town doing their shopping and having their hair done. The garden had stopped producing and she’d pulled up all the plants so she couldn’t spend the rest of the day playing in the dirt. Sharlene would still be asleep. And she wanted to talk. She called her mother but got the answering machine. She hung up without leaving a message.

“Merle,” she said aloud. She’d never been to Merle’s place but she had a general idea of where she lived. She jerked her nightshirt over her head on the way to the bathroom, took a quick shower, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and grabbed her keys and purse on the way out the door.

The mailbox had M-rle Ave-y written on it in black block letters that could be purchased at any hardware store. A “No Trespassing” sign hung on both sides of the fence leading the way up to the house. None of the letters were missing on those signs. She turned across a cattle guard and drove slowly through the pecan tree-lined lane. The house was a long, low ranch house set at the back side of a circular driveway. The flower beds were a blaze of fall colors with yellow, bronze, and gold mums, bright pink and red roses still putting out blooms, dianthus in all shades of bright colors, and rose moss creeping along the edges. It reminded Larissa of the flower beds in Perry. Their gardener took great pains and delight in his flowers and she’d always loved them every season of the year.

She stood beside the car and made a decision never to sell the Perry house. Too many people would be affected if she did—Rosa, the housekeeper, who’d been there at least thirty years; Manny, the gardener; Cleo, the cook; and Lanson, who took care of the garage and all the vehicles in it as well as the pool in the summertime. Four people who’d taken care of her, along with Nanny, and had been there since her grandparents moved into the house. They’d helped raise Larissa. They’d been there when Nanny died. They’d always welcomed Doreen home. They lived in two apartments in a wing off to one side of the place. Rosa and Manny in one; Cleo and Lanson in the other.

“Are you going to come in or stand out there and stare at the flowers all day?” Merle yelled from the door.

Larissa looked up and smiled. “Good morning. They are beautiful. Who is your gardener?”

Merle stepped out onto the porch. “Me. Old southern women are supposed to grow flowers. I put the flower beds in when Ruby Lee died as a memorial to her. Seemed a waste to take flowers to the grave to lie there and die. She was a live wire, not a wallflower, so I planted flowers and when I get lonesome for her, I come out here and sit on that bench and we talk. What in the hell are you doing up and about at this time of morning after the night you had at the Honky Tonk?”