That Wild Texas Swing

by MJ Fredrick

  Fine might be stretching it, but certainly they’d survived without it.

  “Don’t be like that, babe. The girls. College. New cars. There has to be something you need.” He took another step toward the table. “Can I sit down?” he asked Sophia. “Visit with my daughters?”

  Liz’s instinct was to tell him no, and was sure Gracie would back her up. But he’d asked Sophia, and Brianna cast a pleading look at Liz, as if it was her decision.

  Sophia looked at her daughters, then the table, and gave one short nod. Rafael Salazar pulled out a kitchen chair cautiously, as if a wrong move would make her change her mind. She turned and retrieved a cup from the cabinet, then poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of him. He nodded his thanks and she retreated, motioning for Liz to sit at the table with her father. Brianna took the chair beside him. Gracie pulled another closer to her little sister. Liz crossed behind her mother to pour herself a cup of coffee, remembering just for a moment the joy she’d felt when she woke this morning, hating that it had dissolved.

  “Tell me about yourselves,” he said, and Liz sat back as Brianna started chattering.

  *****

  Killian stood on the wide porch of his mother’s Victorian house, twisting his father’s class ring on his finger. He didn’t mind seeing his mom and Maggie, but his mother also invited his half-siblings, the children from his father’s first marriage, and their families. His half-brothers and half-sister didn’t have a lot of love for Evelyn, and didn’t have a lot in common with him and Maggie, since they were two decades older. He saw by the cars on the street in front of the house—a BMW, a minivan and a high-end SUV—that they were already here. Maggie, too, but she lived here. Great, he was the last one to arrive, which meant he had less time with the whole mess, but he’d get the full effect of all of them at once.

  Evelyn opened the door, her eyes overly bright. Annnndddd the other reason he particularly dreaded these gatherings. Everyone drank too much.

  “I’ve told you that you don't have to ring the doorbell. This was your home.” She tucked her hand through his arm and drew him inside.

  He heard voices from the sun room at the back of the house, but they were mostly young, his younger nieces and nephews. The teens were probably in the kitchen with whatever food Evelyn had set out to occupy them, and their parents were—

  Their parents were in the parlor, sitting stiffly on the fine furniture. Each of them had a drink in hand.

  His eldest brother, William, sat with his wife Kate on the sofa near the window. William and Kate and their three kids, all teenagers, lived in Kingsville, where William was a judge and Kate a professor at the university. His second brother, Eric, sat in a chair by the fireplace, his wife Pam across the room. Eric worked at an ad agency in Austin, and his wife stayed home. Their only child was in elementary school.

  His sister Tammy was the only one who smiled in greeting. She sat with Maggie on the settee closest to the bar. She was a single mom with two kids, a middle-schooler and a high schooler. She lived in San Marcos and worked in the financial aid office of the college there.

  That his siblings all left town and moved apart from each other was telling, and not for the first time, he wondered what hold his mother had over them to make them show up here every year.

  “Would you like a drink?” his mother asked, crossing to the dry bar.

  “Just water,” he forced himself to say, though God, he would have loved something stronger. He needed to keep his head.

  “You look good, Killian,” Tammy said, rising to kiss his cheek. “How much weight did you lose?”

  “I went from a 44 waist to a 34,” he said, taking the tumbler of ice water from his mother and following her to sit in the chair beside her. “A lot of fat turned to muscle when I started working out, so that number’s not as impressive as the inches.” He smiled at his sister. “Did y’all come through town on the way in? We’ve got some improvements going on in the square.” They’d all grown up here, while their daddy was the mayor. Surely they'd care about that.

  “We did see a new bar,” William said. “You think that’s the best investment for the town?”

  “It’s an upscale place, just opened this weekend, mostly for locals and tourists, though I imagine we’ll get some oilfield guys stopping in. Anything to put money back in the local economy.”

  “It was busy last night,” Maggie said, and Killian noticed for the first time that her eyes were maybe a little more shadowed than usual. “People from all over came to see what it was like. It was a little more expensive than most places in town, but I don't think a lot of people minded.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, and Killian wondered if Jackson had shown up. Then he remembered he was staying out of her love life, especially if he wanted her to stay out of his.

  “And we have our own grocery store coming in,” Killian added. “We’ll sign the final paperwork on that this week.”

  “Not a big box store,” Eric said.

  “A local chain,” Killian replied smoothly. “It’s something the people of the town have been needing and asking for. It will be good.”

  “And then the boom will end and it will be another empty storefront,” William said.

  “We’re filling in the storefronts, and adding apartments above them. We’re doing good things in Evansville, trying to make the residents happy, and keeping the money in town.” He took a sip of his water and smiled at his older brother. “What’s new in Kingsville?”

  He listened to William talk about the influx of illegal immigrants and the problems they presented, ending up in his courtroom. Tammy talked about her kids, one in National Honor Society and one in drama club. That started Kate complaining about all the college acceptances their son was getting, including one—horror of horrors—to UT. Their father had been an Aggie and most of them had gone to one A&M school or another. Their daughter was dating an unsuitable boy, and their youngest was the target of a bullying teacher. Kate had had to take several days off to visit the school to discuss the troubles her son was having with the teacher.

  Killian had met the kid, though admittedly, it had been a year since he’d seen him. He was pretty sure the teacher wasn’t the problem.

  Eric and Pam sat quietly, both of them tense. Killian wondered how much it had to do with the company and how much they’d brought with them. Pam, for instance, had had two glasses of wine since Killian had arrived.

  “So how’s Austin these days?”

  Eric scowled. “Getting anywhere is a pain in the ass, costs are through the roof. It’s getting to the point where you can’t live on one income anymore.” He sent his wife a pointed look, and she bristled.

  “I work hard being the best mother I can be,” Pam retorted. “Paul loves having me home, loves me being able to go to his school, loves me picking him up from school. If he’s sick, I don’t have to take a day off, I’m there for him.”

  “And you’re turning him into a sissy,” Eric retorted.

  Killian automatically glanced toward the door to make sure Paul hadn’t overheard. Killian loved his father, but he’d heard the same words out of his mouth when he’d been in second grade, and Evelyn had coddled him. There was no worse insult in a Texan household.

  Maggie rose to get another drink and passed by him, brushing her hand over his shoulder in a show of solidarity.

  Finally, the housekeeper came in to let them know dinner was on the table.

  Evelyn kept the big dining room table for this purpose only, to fit her dead husband’s ungrateful children and his even more ungrateful grandchildren. He understood that she wanted to pretend they liked her, probably wished they did like her, as if that would absolve her from seducing their father away from their mother all those years ago.

  Even as big as the table was, there wasn’t enough room for all of them, and the two youngest children had to squeeze in at the end, on chairs pulled from other parts of the house. Evelyn was a gracious hostess and raised a glass in an invitati
on for them all to toast his father.

  Everyone was civil at dinner, even the teenagers when Killian prompted his eldest nephew Josh to tell him why he’d applied to UT.

  “They have one of the better journalism programs in the state.”

  “And that’s what you want to do? Not much pay in that.” He wondered if the boy’s ambition was more the problem for his parents than his choice of schools.

  “No, but it’s something I love, and I’m good at.”

  “Seems like a shrinking market.”

  “There are still options,” the boy said, raising his chin.

  Killian nodded. “Options are always good. Do you have experience?”

  “I’m editing on the school paper now.”

  Killian nodded again. “If you ever want to check out all the work an editor at a small town paper does, let me know and I’ll set you up.”

  The boy nodded politely, though Killian had the idea the kid had no desire to work for what was essentially a three-person weekly.

  He took himself out of the conversation and let Tammy talk for a bit. He wondered why the two of them, she the youngest from the first marriage, he the older from the second, felt the need to carry conversation.

  Wine poured, and more wine was brought to the table. Evelyn had even bought sparkling grape juice for the kids. The food was delicious, and she was conscious enough of his efforts to include grilled vegetables and salad alongside the mashed potatoes and white bread, a fruit salad beside the rich chocolate cake, which honestly, he was ready to eat all by himself just to escape from the tension at the table.

  But his mom was talking and staying cheerful despite the ill manners of his older brothers and the silence of his little sister, who, honestly, he wanted to hear from most of all, and he vowed to see this through, to support his mother. And when everyone left, he was going to talk to her and convince her to never put any of them through this again.

  And then he was going to go see Liz, see if she wanted to go on a drive, something, anything to get rid of this tension.

  *****

  Liz’s jaw hurt from clenching it as Brianna chattered, her father doing a good imitation of listening when Liz’s own eyes had glazed over. Sophia had set the coffee pot on the table, and Liz had had enough that she was vibrating, her stomach churning because she hadn’t had any food to absorb it.

  “Tell me about your life, Graciela,” her father said smoothly when Brianna stopped to take a breath. “You just graduated from high school, right? Tell me what you plan to do next.”

  Gracie’s shoulders squared. “I’m going to school at Texas State. Or, I will be in August. I’m doing the work-study program now.” She spoke haltingly, as if she didn’t want to let him in on her life. Liz couldn’t blame her.

  He straightened, his face brightening. “I don’t want you to have to work and go to school. I’ll pay for your college. Are you going to be living in a dorm?”

  Gracie frowned. “You don't have the money to pay for my college, all four years.”

  “I do. I’m making better money than I ever thought I could.”

  “And when you decide to drop out again, to disappear? I’ll be stuck paying for my own college without a job. No thank you.”

  “I’ll have the money put in a trust, anything to make you believe me.”

  Gracie glanced at Liz, uncertainty clear in her face.

  Liz lifted a shoulder. “He owes you. Take what you can get.”

  He turned his gaze to Liz then, and she lifted her chin to meet it. She was the oldest, she remembered him the most. Gracie had been six when he left, Brianna only two. Liz alone remembered him as a father, carrying her, hugging her, scolding her.

  Remembered how her mother had been destroyed when he left without a word.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” she told him before he could ask. “And I don’t owe you anything, either. Do what you feel you have to do for the girls.” Though God, it felt like a betrayal to her mother, who had worked so hard for so many years at the taqueria to give them what they needed. “But I don't want anything to do with you.”

  Gracie opened her mouth and Liz had the idea she was going to say the same thing, but Liz shook her head slightly. Not that she wanted her father’s money to make their life easier, not having to worry about paying tuition and room and board, but because her father hadn’t paid child support for twelve years. Paying tuition and board would make up for that. She did the math in her head. Yup, almost.

  And if he wanted to pay for Brianna’s quinceañera, well, that one galled a little more. She wanted to be able to give her sister the party she desired, and she loved that Brianna had figured ways to lower costs, to stay in a budget. That was a good skill for her sister to have, and a good lesson to learn. Her father might go overboard and Brianna, well, the lesson wouldn’t be learned anymore.

  But again, he owed it to Brianna. He’d been gone since she was a baby.

  “I just want to get to know my girls,” he said, his voice soft. “I screwed up by leaving. I own that. I know it hurt you, I know it left you in tight circumstances. I wasn’t proud of myself. But I’m proud of myself now. I want to make it right.”

  Liz shook her head, not wanting to hear, not having room for him in her life.

  Her father pressed a hand to the table, and her stomach relaxed. Was he going to leave?

  “I’m staying around. I’ve got an RV at one of the man camps just out of town. I’m not going to give up. And if you need me, need anything, I want to be there for you.” He picked up one of Brianna’s pink pens and wrote his number carefully on the back of her binder, then stood, his gaze settling on Sophia a moment. “I’m sorry. And thank you. For taking care of them.”

  None of them moved when he kissed Brianna’s head, then left.

  “We need to get out of here,” Liz said, jumping to her feet. “Let’s go to the Coyote for lunch or something. Just—out of here.” She felt like he’d poisoned her morning, poisoned their house, and she needed to be away from it.

  Brianna hopped to her feet. “Okay!”

  “I have so much to do…” Sophia protested.

  “My treat. Please. I just…don’t want to be here right now.”

  “He’s not coming back,” Gracie said.

  “Doesn’t matter. Don’t care. I just want out, okay? Can we go? Have fun somewhere? Wait for this,” she waved her hand over her head as if to wave away his essence, “to go away?”

  Sophia sighed and stood. “Everyone get dressed. Let’s get out of here.”

  *****

  The Coyote was busy on a late Sunday morning, after church, which meant Liz’s cut-offs and baggy t-shirt stood out, and not in a good way. Cassidy Simon directed them to a table crowded near the window. She handed out menus and promised to get back to them as soon as she could. As Liz glanced around the busy place and noticed several people noticing her, she wondered if she shouldn't have taken her family to San Marcos or some other town to have breakfast. It was one thing for herself to be subjected to the gossip of the people who thought she slept with Killian Friday night, but she didn’t want her family to have to deal with it.

  She half-hoped that Killian would come in, though that would fire up the conversation. Then she remembered he had some family thing today. The only thing she could hope was that her father didn't show up. Yeah, she should have gone to San Marcos.

  Her sisters relaxed after their meeting with their father, and started teasing each other over who got the most food. Only Liz and her mother remained tense until the food was delivered.

  “Liz, good to see you!” Angie stopped at the table, her hand resting on the back of Sophia’s chair. “Hey, I’ve got a line on a new beautician. She’s fresh out of beauty college, and she’d be happy to pay rent on a chair. She’s got access to an RV that she could park out at Cassidy’s place, so she’ll have a place to stay. What do you say?”

  “I say I hope that business doesn’t slow down,” Liz said, foldin
g her arms on the table. “I’d also like to see some of her work first, before she uproots her life and moves down here.”

  “That can be arranged. Hey, I have a new tenant at the camp, a Rafael Salazar. Relation to you?”

  Liz’s stomach knotted all over again. Did Angie not remember? Maybe she didn’t—she hadn’t actually run in the same circles as Sophia. And Angie had been wrapped pretty tight inside herself the past few years.

  “My father. He’s working in the oilfields.”

  Angie’s plucked eyebrows shot straight up her forehead, and she glanced at Sophia. “I, ah, guess there’s no room in the house?”

  “That’s an understatement,” Gracie murmured.

  Liz hated that other people in town would know about his return, and would be asking questions. Her life seemed destined to be in the spotlight.

  Angie lifted her fingers to her lips. “I see. Sorry about that.” She rested a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “Trust me, honey, I know.” She turned back to Liz. “So when should I tell Jessica to come down?”

  “Any time this week. Should be a lot slower.”

  “I’ll let her know.” She patted Sophia’s shoulder and moved on.

  “I hope I can keep enough business for another beautician,” Liz said, attempting lightness. “I think I’ve done every woman in town’s hair this past week.”

  “If you want,” Brianna said, “we can arrange for a windstorm or something so they all have to come back.”

  “We could get Bev to come up with a new design for nails, something they all have to have. Maybe something patriotic,” Sophia said.

  “Maybe everyone will want color tips.” Gracie flipped the ends of Liz’s hair. “You could give us all different colors and we’ll start a new trend. You’ll get all the teen girls in.”

  Killian wished Liz’s shop was open on Monday. She deserved a day off, but there was something reassuring about being in his office and knowing she was right across the square.

  When he’d gone by her house yesterday after the lunch at his mom’s, she hadn’t been there. That was probably for the best, since he hadn’t been in the greatest mood. And he knew she was probably busy today, getting ready for Brianna’s quinceañera. Tomorrow, he’d be busy. He had a meeting with the Fourth of July committee to finalize the plans for the town’s celebration, a meeting that would likely last hours. He dreaded it, for the first time since he’d been mayor, because Allison was one of the committee chairs. She was good at what she did, but her clear interest in him made working with her uncomfortable. She would still be hurt because he’d taken Liz to the Sagebrush, but he thought he’d made it clear that he didn’t want a relationship with Allison. Even his own mother pushed him toward Allison, to hell with what he wanted.