“The references the other four gave were good, too,” Will said, a certain defensiveness in his voice.
“Well, maybe this gal’s are true,” Lonnie replied, pressing him. “And if you don’t hire her, what are we gonna do?”
“We keep lookin’, that’s what we do.”
Lonnie didn’t like the sound of the decisiveness returning to Will’s voice.
“Keep lookin’? Where and for how long? It’s a cinch we ain’t gonna find anyone within three counties, and the rest of the state is beginnin’ to look bleak. Damn, Will. It’s time you quit lettin’ the old man call the shots on this tune. You’re foolin’ yourself, thinking you can find just the right person to suit him, because there isn’t such a person on this earth.”
“What do you want me to do, Lonnie? Tell him he has no control over his own place?”
Lonnie breathed deeply. “It may be time to think about puttin’ the old man in a home.” The minute he’d said it, he knew he shouldn’t have. He had been thinking it for a long time, though.
Will drew himself up and said in a voice as hard and flat as sandstone: “I don’t guess I will.”
Then he turned and strode to the kitchen.
Lonnie followed. He had more to say, though he wasn’t quite certain what it was.
Will reached for his Dr. Pepper and went to peer into the dining room, looking toward the hall. Then he turned around, a perplexed look on his face. “The water’s runnin’ full blast in the bathroom.”
Lonnie went over beside him. Sure enough, the water was running. He turned back toward the kitchen. “Maybe she’s takin’ a shower.”
“She would do that, do you think?”
Lonnie had to laugh. “I was only jokin’. She’s just doin’ whatever it is women do in the bathroom, and whatever it is, it takes them a long time.”
It was funny, when Lonnie thought about it, but he had a lot more knowledge about females than Will did. The trouble with Will was that he lived by a rigid set of rules, and those rules kept him from sampling the joys of women. Will seemed to set himself above all that. To Lonnie’s mind, Will’s only interests were the land and horses and cattle, and if a woman was to walk up to him buck naked, he probably wouldn’t see her.
“You know, big brother,” Lonnie said now, “it would do you good to have that gal around here— and in more ways than just for housekeeping and tending the old man. It would show you what you’re missin' in this world. Since you and Georgia called it quits, you’ve shut yourself away here with the old man for so long that you’ve forgotten what a woman’s touch is like. You get more like the old man every day, big brother.”
Will swung his head around. “If you know so much, Lonnie, why don’t you just get yourself off to one of your girlfriends and let them put you up for awhile in the manner you’d like to live.”
Will’s tone sliced into Lonnie. He gritted his teeth and then scooped his hat off the table, pointing it at Will.
“It’s truth I’m not the brain you are, but I’m here to tell you that I know enough to know that you’re so damn afraid somethin’ you do or say is goin’ to give the old man another stroke that you’re turnin’ yourself inside out. You don’t even know who you are anymore, and neither does anyone else, and the old man is playin’ his ailments up for all they're worth.”
It was so rare a thing for Lonnie to speak with raw passion that he startled himself, shut his mouth and breathed deeply through his nose. The next instant, he finished his speech. “And all your pussyfootin’ around him ain’t gonna make one bit of difference, because someday that old man is gonna have another stroke...or die from all the drinkin’ he does, or from the junk he eats, because he’s too stubborn to listen to anyone.”
Will’s eyes could have started a fire. He said, “That old man is your father.”
“Huh! He gave up bein’ a father to me a long time ago."
Lonnie’s words rang in the air as he and Will glared at each other. But he wasn’t sorry. No, sir.
But he was some frightened for having revealed so much of himself. Setting his hat on his head, he retreated into indifference. “You do what you want about the gal. I’ll do what you suggested and go somewhere I can get a friendly breakfast each morning. I’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
Without meeting Will’s eyes, he ducked out the door, resisting the urge to slam it, though he let the porch’s screen door bang behind him.
Running was what he was doing. He felt as if he couldn’t get away from the house fast enough.
He glanced at the old man’s shop as he passed. The door was closed but the windows open, and he could hear the whir of the big steel fan. The old guy wouldn’t break down and buy an air-conditioner. He was so tight with a penny that he squeaked when he walked.
Walking along the edge of the graveled drive, Lonnie headed for his pickup, parked beside the horse barn. He had to push to walk, since the edge was sandy the way the whole drive used to be when he was a kid. So many times he had come racing up it, churning up sand. He could still hear himself calling, “Wait for me, Will!”
“Well, come on, squirt, we gotta get those calves fed.”
“My legs ain’t as long as yours,” Lonnie would grumble.
“They will be someday...someday you’ll be bigger than me.”
Back then Lonnie hadn’t seen how that could happen at all. But he was taller than his brother now by half a foot, and his inseam measured thirty-six, where Will’s was just thirty-four.
Pausing underneath the locust tree, he dug the tin of Skoal out of his back pocket and tucked a pinch in his lip. He had been dipping since he was fifteen, the year he had passed Will in height and had started running off with friends for the high times and the gals in towns and at rodeos. Will used to dip back then, too, but he’d had a fit about Lonnie’s starting, and he had even punched old Wildcat Burns for giving Lonnie the dip.
Lonnie thought of what he had said to Will about the old man not being his father. That was truth—not pretty, maybe, but truth.
There had been a time, dim in his memory, when the old man had set him on his first horse, and had taken him out and bought him his first pair of boots. But the old man had been fifty-five by the time Lonnie was born. He had had little patience for a wet-nosed kid. It had been Will who Lonnie had trailed after. Will who had taught him to tie his shoes and button his shirt. Will who had picked him up and held him, after their mama had slung him in the dust and driven off with that mineral-rights buyer from Amarillo.
After that, when Lonnie would cry at night, Will would take him into his bed. “Come on, Lon. You don’t need her...you got me, now, don’t ya? You’ll always have me.”
Lonnie had made Will swear never to go away, and Will never had.
When the leaving did happen, it was always Lonnie doing it. When he just couldn’t stand the old man’s meanness or the coldness of the house, he would take off. Sometimes for a week, sometimes for several months. But he always came back.
Without fail, when Lonnie would turn and come up the drive, his heart would lift. For some really stupid reason, he would have convinced himself that the old man would be glad to see him and that being home would ease the ache inside him. But each time, within five minutes he would discover that the old man was as obnoxious as ever and the house cold and empty as ever.
Still, Will was always there.
That’s what was eating at Lonnie now. He thought it true what he had said to Will, that his brother was growing too much like the old man. Will was withdrawing, going away, just like their mama, and even the old man.
Lonnie didn’t want that to happen to Will. He didn’t want that to happen to himself. He didn’t want to lose Will.
But he couldn’t ever have explained that to anyone. Just thinking it all embarrassed him.
Chapter 4
When Ruby Dee came back into the kitchen, Will Starr handed her the glass of Dr. Pepper. The glass was dripping sweat. He quickly apologized, grabbed a towel and wiped it for
her. His hands were dark and rough—the strong, banged-up hands of a man who worked hard for a living and then came inside and scrubbed raw to get clean, making his hands drier and rougher still.
He braced himself against the counter, looked at her and said, “Look, Miss D’Angelo, there’s some things we have to get straight.”
She piped up, saying, “I’m not what you expected, am I, Mr. Starr?”
That gave him a start, causing his blue eyes to widen for an instant. And then he breathed deeply. “No, ma’am, you’re not quite what I expected.” His eyes rested on hers; then they skittered down her body. Quickly, before he realized what he was doing, and shyly, too. Ruby Dee felt something touch her as he did that, something of surprise and pleasure.
He wiped his hand on the taut thigh of his jeans. She noticed his eyes had taken on more of a blue color from his shirt. He was a quietly handsome man, probably too quiet, too plain to turn a woman’s head, until a woman caught sight of his eyes. His eyes would arrest any woman, or man.
They were striking, seeming to burn out of his deeply tanned, craggy face like two beams of light. And his was a strong face. The face of a man, not a boy.
His hair and mustache were a rich brown. His mustache leaned toward red, but he had no noticeable gray in either his mustache or in his hair. That was a bit uncommon for a man who had to be over thirty-five. She gauged his age by the fine lines around his eyes and by the way he filled out his clothes with the thick muscles a man got only when he came into his prime. And Lordy, the man had muscles—his shoulders were wide and thick.
Will Starr wasn’t as handsome as his brother, she thought, but she liked the look of him better. She had a thing about older men. Miss Edna said it was because she had never had a father.
She was looking at his wide shoulders when he said, “Look, I owe you an apology. I didn’t fully read your résumé. Had I read it as carefully as I should have and seen that you were only thirty, I could have saved both of us a lot of time and you a lot of trouble. But I did specify when we spoke on the phone that the job was on speculation. Either one of us was free to change our mind after we met.”
Will remembered that he had stressed that. He didn’t think he needed to feel bad that she had up and taken it upon herself to bring everything she owned with her.
“Oh,” she said. Her right eyebrow rose, and she gave him a look, a look that jangled him, and he didn’t like that. “So you want someone older, more experienced...Maybe someone with a wart on her nose would qualify.”
So then Will felt foolish, and highly irritated. Straightening, he set his glass on the counter and gave her a look of his own.
“Ma’am, I just don’t think this is a job for a young and pretty woman such as yourself. You’ll be the only woman in this household. As you saw on the drive out, there’s no one livin’ right next door. The closest female neighbor is three miles down this road, and she’s eleven years old. You’d have this house to take care of, as well as seeing to my father, and he’s a downright crotchety old man. Many days you’ll be stuck here with him from dawn to dusk, or even for several days at a time, when I have business away. If you run out of milk, you have a ten-mile drive one way to get some. For a full grocery store, you’ll have to drive about forty miles, and there certainly aren’t any big shopping malls like you have down in Oklahoma City.
“If you’re anticipatin’ meeting some of those cowboys like you see in the movies, you’re gonna be disappointed. This isn’t one of those big Texas spreads, and the only time I have a lot of help around here is for a few days in the spring and fall. From now until then I have one full-time hand, and he’s nearly twice your age and married.”
And then he added, “There is my brother, of course, and you might as well know he likes the ladies, which is another reason I think it just wouldn’t work out to take you on.”
There it was. He never had been much of a diplomat. He had said what he had to say, and as nicely as he could, and he searched her face, wondering if he had hurt her feelings.
Then he realized she didn’t look hurt at all. She looked like she was fixing to jerk him up and set him straight.
In that slow way she had of moving, she propped a hand on her hip, took a stance that showed what she had to give, and, with her eyes bright as two drops of hot crude oil on a plate, she said slowly and precisely, “Mr. Starr, if it was cowboys I wanted, I could’ve had my pick down in Oklahoma City.”
With her eyes holding his, Ruby Dee let Will Starr take that in.
“Yes, ma’am, I imagine that’s so.”
“Oh, yes, sir, that is so. I feel about men pretty much the same way I do about television—something I can live without. It’s okay for a bit of entertainment, but mostly I prefer a radio—heard but not seen.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just kept looking at her. He was flushed, and she sensed he was embarrassed, as well he should be.
“Well,” Ruby Dee said, and let that sit for a few seconds, while she gathered steam. “Bein’ isolated and stuck with a grouchy old man—you explained that when we spoke on the phone, Mr. Starr. I understood fully what I would be dealin’ with. I came out here as a professional. Now, perhaps I don’t appear to be what you were expectin’, but I can tell you a few facts that aren’t in that résumé.”
She leaned forward, holding his eyes with hers. “If it’s experience you’re wantin’, I have it. I have been an LPN for six years, but I’ve been a healer for all of my life, startin’ with holdin’ my daddy’s head and keepin’ him from drownin’ in his own vomit when I was just three years old. At the age of five I was takin’ care of my crazy great-grandma—just her and me livin’ together. I did such a good job of it that for four years no one knew my great-grandma had gone to live back in 1936 most of the time. We didn’t get caught, until one day a developer came, wantin’ to buy her land, and insisted on talking to her. For some reason she thought he was her dead husband, and before I realized what she was about, she’d shot him. She missed anything important, and got him in the leg.
“They took her away to the nursing home, and I went on to take care of myself and other kids who no one else wanted to look out for. Since I was fifteen I have been makin’ a living by carin’ for people in one way or another, and all of those years before and since add up to hard experience, because when you’re young, you tend to get the jobs that no mature adult will take on. I have been talked to worse than you can imagine. I’ve been spit on and punched and scratched. Once a lady with a real hot temper took a butcher knife to me, and another time a seventy-year-old man, who wasn’t near as feeble as he pretended, tried to rape me. I find it hard to believe your father could be much worse, Mr. Starr. Do you think he could be?”
It suddenly occurred to Ruby Dee that perhaps the elder Mr. Starr was worse. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could be, but she needed to know.
Will Starr’s eyebrows went up, and he swallowed. “My father wouldn’t try to rape you.”
Ruby Dee felt some reassured. Will Starr appeared to be pondering, so she went on with whatever else came to mind.
“You are concerned that I won’t stand up under the isolation out here. Well, right now that isolation is exactly why I’ve come. That, and the fact that your father is not bedridden and at death’s door. I’m really tired of old people dying on me.”
Will Starr sort of started at that.
“As I see it on your side, Mr. Starr, you all need me. You’ve already gone through four housekeepers, and the way Maggie Parsons tells it, you aren’t gonna find another one anytime soon. It seems to me the worst that can happen to either of us is that you’ll fire me or I’ll quit. So I’m still willin’ to give it a go, if you are.”
Finished, she waited. She really had gone on; she could do that—get carried away and go on. It was no wonder Will Starr was staring at her.
His gray-blue eyes had gone steely as little ball bearings. She wondered what was working behind them. It was disconcerting the wa
y he was looking at her. His eyes drifted down and back up her body, assessing her. His look was as strong as if he’d run a hand over her, checking and searching and weighing her flesh. It made her squirm inside, causing her to feel absurdly shy, annoyed.
Then he asked, “Can you make apple pie?”
Ruby Dee was surprised, but she answered quickly enough. "Yes. We are what we eat, and the body more readily accepts the nourishment of food that is tasty. I can make an apple pie to crawl fifty miles for, and one with little sugar, too, that your daddy can eat. I also make buttermilk biscuits that won a state-fair ribbon once. I don’t make them often, though, because of their high fat content.”
His sharp, ball-bearing eyes bore into hers. “All right, Miss D’Angelo, we’ll give it a try.”
He stuck out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she shook it. His shake was strong, his hand moist, his steely eyes like blue flame.
* * * *
Will Starr explained that Ruby Dee would have complete charge of the house, but the most important thing was to see to his father.
“His medicines and an instruction sheet from the doctor are in this cabinet.” He pointed. “Dad takes pills to thin his blood, and some for his arthritis— for the swelling of his joints—and he has pain medication for that, too. I’ve been settin’ his pills out for him, but I’m not certain he always takes them. He simply refuses sometimes. He says that he feels fine, so he doesn’t need to take anything.” His expression and tone stated clearly that he found this idea of his father’s somewhere near lunacy.
Ruby Dee felt called on to defend the older man. “When you think about it, it is his body. He feels good, so why take medicine? He’s probably tired of taking pills. You don’t have to agree with it, but surely you can understand it.”
“Oh, I understand my father, all right, Miss D’Angelo. He doesn’t take the medicine because he thinks all the rules that apply to the rest of us don’t apply to him.”
His voice was sharp and tired at the same time, and Ruby Dee felt she had been told.
The Loves of Ruby Dee Page 3
