by H. D. Gordon
Mr. Landry headed out to open his tobacco shop, which he’d been losing business in the last couple days because of his assistance with the situation. I felt bad about this, but knew there was nothing I could do about it. Mr. Landry was going to try and help me whether I wanted him to or not.
Michael didn’t have to be at the bar for work until six o’clock, which was also the time I was supposed to be there. Supposed to were the key words here. Michael didn’t know it, but I’d already sent a message to Aunt Susan telling her I couldn’t work tonight, but that Michael would be there to cover. I didn’t feel terrible about this because Monday nights were usually slow anyway, and Michael would make more money if I weren’t there. Not that he needed more money. With his family’s finances, he probably didn’t even need the job, but I didn’t think that was important in my reasoning.
It was like fate, really, because just as Michael would be walking into work to discover he would be bartending solo, I would be walking into the dinner with the reverend solo. So far, the weaker-than-I-would-have-liked plan I’d come up with was working swimmingly. There were just a few loose ends to tie up.
I looked over at Michael, knowing very well that this could be my last day with him, but doing my best to keep the emotions rolling through my chest off of my face. “I-I have some errands t-t-to run,” I said. “Wuh-want to come with me?”
The smile that lit up his handsome face and the immediate yes he gave made my heart ache.
Chapter 28
Michael
She was keeping something from him. He knew it. She was doing an admirable job of hiding it, but he was in tune with her enough by now to pick up on all the subtleties that gave it away.
Michael didn’t press her, though, because he knew that would just push her away further. As long as she didn’t run off and do something foolish by trying to keep him out of the trouble, it was fine. He felt everyone was entitled to their secrets. Especially his beautiful raven haired girl, who’d surely led a life full of them. Part of the beauty of their relationship would be when she let him in enough to share them all with him. Michael felt he would wait a lifetime for her to let him fully into her world, if that’s what it took.
Love was a funny thing, he was finding. He’d been with his fair share of ladies, ever since high school, but those relationships had all been superficial, and he’d always ended them after he’d grown bored with whomever the girl was at the time. This thing he had with Joe was different. It had kind of just smacked him in the gut. The thought of it ending was unconscionable.
As they walked around the grocery store she’d as asked him to take her to, and collected the items she’d written down on sheet of paper, he wondered what was going through that head of hers. He could feel her sneaking looks at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, but when it came to her, Michael was always paying attention. It would be impossible not to. After nearly two months without her, every second he spent with her made his affection grow and grow...and had the odd, desperate quality of stolen time.
He watched as she made her way around the store, her movements unconsciously elegant, like that of a trained classical dancer. She was so beautiful, so exquisite, and she didn’t even know it.
“Why’re you l-looking at muh-me like that?” she asked as they placed the groceries on the checkout counter.
He smiled, and blinked innocently. “Like what?”
Michael saw her lips curve up and her cheeks flush as she looked down at her shoes, something she always did when she was nervous. He found it endlessly endearing, and loved that he could make her react that way.
He paid for the groceries, earning multiple protests from her, and ignoring them. It wasn’t that he was trying to impress her—his brand new BMW, a birthday gift from his mom, was enough evidence of his financial situation, and something most girls swooned over—because he knew that sort of thing meant nothing to her anyway. It was that he wouldn’t see her pay for anything, not if he was around, mainly because he couldn’t think of a single person he’d rather spend money on. Not even himself, and the fact that she tried to reject his offers made him like her even more. Joe was a girl who not only didn’t need help, she didn’t want it.
And that was how he came to the conclusion that she was planning to do just the thing he was afraid of; run off and foolishly take this crazy reverend on by herself. The realization came to him as they were loading the groceries in the back of his car. He didn’t voice it. He figured he had a little time to figure out what she was planning, considering they were spending the afternoon together and then both had work at six.
When they were both in the car, he began heading back to her apartment, assuming that’s where they were taking the groceries. He was thinking about how to convince her to let him help when her soft voice cut into his thoughts.
“Make a luh-left at this light, nuh-not a right,” she said.
He did as he was asked, and took the opportunity to steal a look at her. “Where are we going?” he asked.
Her lips pursed just slightly and her eyebrows drew down. “My muh-mom’s house,” she said.
He studied her for a second longer before turning his eyes back to the road. “Do I get to meet her?”
She laughed shortly. “Meeting my muh-mother is less p-privilege and more cruel and uh-unusual.”
Now Michael laughed. “She can’t be that bad,” he said, and the look she gave him said he was wrong about that. His smile now was sympathetic. “Okay, well, I’ll meet her if you want me to, then.”
She looked down at her hands in her lap, her dark hair shielding her profile with a curtain of glossy black. Her voice, which was always a low, soft tone, was barely above a whisper now when she spoke.
“Wuh-will you be mad if I duh-duh-don’t?”
He held the steering wheel with one hand as he placed his other over her small, delicate hands, which were still in her lap. Her skin was soft and warm, and he got the urge to pull over right then and wrap his arms around her, but resisted. Instead, he waited until he stopped at red light and then looked over at her. “Joe,” he said, “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you. For anything. I’ll wait in the car if that’s what you want.”
Her eyes seemed to be growing a little moist, but a slow smile lit up her lovely face. “Th-thank you.”
When they pulled up to her mother’s house, it was hard to believe the lady that lived there could be as maleficent as Joe let on. He believed her, of course, and knew that sometimes the worst of things could be wrapped in the prettiest of packages.
Her mom’s house was large and well kept. The lawn was a plush green and the hedges were all trimmed to perfection. The stone path that led up to the large porch was weed free, the paint on the old structure as fresh as if done yesterday. It was a pretty place, almost stately in its manner…and it made his writer’s nature perk with interest. He bet the walls of that house knew some interesting things, and the lady that walked among them was an instant curiosity to him.
But if Joe wasn’t ready to introduce him, that was that.
She gave him small smile and a nod as she grabbed the three grocery bags from the back of the car and carried them up to the front door. Then the door swung open and she disappeared inside. It closed too quickly behind her for him to even consider trying to peek.
When she came running back out ten minutes later, admirably holding back tears, but nearly shaking with emotion over whatever had just conspired, he jumped out of the car and wrapped her up in his arms. Now he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“Are you okay?” he said. “What happened?”
She laid her head on his chest and held him back, making him feel more important than he’d known was possible. Then she looked up at him with those magnificent silver-blue eyes and said, “I’ll t-t-tell you. Juh-just get me out of huh-here f-first, puh-please.”
He nodded, but as he backed out of the driveway and turned the car around, catching sight of the house in
his rearview, it didn’t seem so pretty anymore. In fact, watching Joe from the corner of his eye, clearly upset and trying to hide it, he wondered how he could have ever thought it was so.
“Alright,” he said. “You gonna tell me what just happened in there?”
Her eyes were wide as disks as she stared out the windshield. “Sh-she’s guh-going to die,” she said.
Michael’s foot fell on the brakes. The car came to a hard stop. He pulled over to the side of the road and put it in park. When he turned to Joe and took her hands in his, she looked up at him as if she had forgotten he was there. Her hands shook where he held them.
“Just breathe,” he told her. “Just breathe…Who exactly are you talking about, my love? Who’s going to die?”
Chapter 29
Dorie
This bitch deserved to die just for the nerve, the amount of audacity she had. What kind of person made a living off of snooping around in the affairs of others? I mean, honestly, how did she live with herself?
“Thank you for letting me come in and check out the ranch, Ms. Dunham,” the bitch said. “It’s really lovely land your church has here.”
Dorie gave her a politician’s smile, thinking about how on the phone last night when speaking to Father, Ross had referred to the Family as an “organization”, and now that she was here it was suddenly a “church”. The yellow belly bitch, Dorie thought.
“You should see it in the fall,” Dorie said, leading Ross down the path that led to Father’s house, where she’d been directed to take the bitch as soon as she arrived. “The way the leaves change colors is one of the prettiest things you’ll ever see,” Dorie continued, “And in the winter we do a huge display of lights to celebrate the birth of Christ. Reverend Reynolds dresses up as Santa and gives toys to all the kids who come. We all have hot cocoa and sing carols. You should join us for the festivities, if you get the chance.”
Ms. Ross the Newspaper Bitch smiled, and her eyes twinkled behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “Thank you, Ms. Dunham. I’ll be sure to do that.”
I bet you will be sure to do that. Always interested in the affairs of others. Doer of devil’s work. Dirty bitch.
Dorie gave her another smile. “Wonderful. Oh, here we are.” She opened one of the double doors that led into the church section of Father’s house and held it for Ross. Dorie swallowed past the disgust she felt when the scent of the bitch’s whorish perfume wafted past her nose. She even smelled like a sinner.
Fortunately, Father was waiting on the inside, standing near the pulpit. Dorie relaxed just at the sight of him. He was dressed in his white reverend’s gowns, his dark hair styled up in its perfect way. A sure smile held up his lips, and Dorie felt as though she could breathe again when she saw it. Father had everything in control. He would send this nosy bitch packing. There was nothing to worry about with him here.
“Ms. Ross,” Father greeted, his arms coming out to his sides in welcome, the long white sleeves of the robe he was wearing making him look like an angel with wings. He hopped down from the stage and approached them. “I’m glad to see you’ve travelled safely. I hope you had no troubles finding the ranch.”
Ross shook her head, her demeanor friendly but businesslike. “None at all,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Sara Ross from the Kansas City Sun. You must be Reverend Ronald Reynolds. Pleasure to meet you.”
Dorie watched as Father gave Ross’s hand a gentle shake. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Ross,” he said. He was so smart, so charming. He knew just the way to treat this snake that had wandered into their sacred grasses.
Ross tilted her head back and studied Father through her glasses. “Is it, reverend?” she asked. “Because I got the impression you were avoiding my phone calls. I didn’t get the feeling you wanted me to come here when we spoke yesterday.”
The audacity of this bitch was endless! Dorie felt her anger fly through the roof and would have sold her left pinky finger to be able to slap the smug little smile off the bitch’s stupid little face! One quick look from Father, however, told her she could do no such thing.
Father’s smile didn’t falter. “Well, I think most people aren’t delighted when a stranger calls out of the blue to accuse them of heinous things. Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Ross?” he paused, and Dorie had to use great effort to keep from laughing now as the smug smile slipped slowly off the bitch’s face.
“Nonetheless,” Father continued, not waiting for Ross to respond, “We have nothing to hide here at The Family Ranch, so if letting you come in and observe lovely way of life will put a rest to your obviously troubled thoughts, so be it.”
There was a stony look behind the bitch’s eyes now that Dorie would be sure to note mentally for later. “They aren’t my troubled thoughts, reverend, so much as they are the troubled thoughts of concerned family members of individuals rumored to be living at your ranch,” Ross said, and now she didn’t pause for Father to respond. “So, this must be where you hold service, but I think I counted thirteen other structures on the property on my drive in and my walk up to the house. Are the other buildings where the residents of the ranch stay?”
Father extended an elbow to Ross, who hesitated only a moment before slipping her arm through. Dorie wondered at how he could stand contact with such a heathen. She supposed it was just one of the things that made him so extraordinary.
“I’ll be glad to show you all the nooks and crannies, Ms. Ross,” he said, leading her back out of the house and onto the large porch, which overlooked the lake separating his house and the others.
“And yes,” he continued, “eleven of those structures are used for housing. The smaller one on the right is the infirmary, where we currently have several nurses who can assist residents any hour of the day. The large one you see in the middle holds the cafeteria and the bakery, where we make our semi-famous chocolate covered pretzels. The pretzel business is where we make most of the money that fuels the Family Ranch. Maybe you’ve heard of our company?”
Ross was already nodding. “I have,” she said. “People’s Pretzels. You guys earned a mention in The Journal last month as one of the most promising up and coming companies. Your stock went up several points in the last six months too, I believe. You have a strong foothold on college campuses in the Midwest. Students seem to love gourmet, low priced chocolate covered pretzels for some reason. Congratulations on all your success.”
Father had a look on his face that said he was pleased and impressed that the bitch had done her research, but as a tiny blue vein appeared and disappeared on his forehead, Dorie knew he was not pleased at all. As far as Dorie knew, that small blue vein was his only tell, and if one blinked, they missed it. Dorie Dunham just wasn’t someone who blinked.
“Thank you,” Father said. “Oh, here come the ‘individuals’ you mentioned earlier.”
Dorie followed Father’s gaze and saw Anna and Beth crossing the lawn to meet them. She stood behind Ross and Father and eyed both of the young women closely. Dorie didn’t think they had anything to worry about from Anna and Beth; she was ninety-five percent sure both could be trusted, and were loyal to the Family and to Father. But, to Dorie, that unspoken for five percent was something that bore watching. Closely. As Father always said, these were trying times, and they couldn’t be too careful.
Also, because Anna’s punishment at the meeting last night was still so fresh, she would need to be watched extra closely.
But both Anna and Beth greeted the newspaper bitch with friendly, happy smiles on their faces. And so, on it went. The four of them led the bitch from building to building, showing her everything from the sleeping quarters to the cafeteria and infirmary to the bakery where the pretzels were made, packaged and shipped.
The tour seemed to last a lifetime, and was finally coming to an end about an hour and a half later, when Father’s wife, Sharon, joined the group, adding the proverbial cherry to the top of the sundae, making the wholesome picture whole. Father was smart to have her come ou
t at the end. While Dorie had to constantly work at it, and always felt fake doing it, Sharon Reynolds made people like her with ease. Everyone who met Mother adored her instantly.
“Well, I have to say, Mr. Reynolds, it seems like you have a great thing going here,” the bitch said as she pulled her car keys from her purse. “Everyone works together and lives in harmony, and the fact that you take in so many that need homes, so many addicts, is not something to be overlooked. Maybe I should write an article about how delicious your chocolate covered pretzels are instead of…what I originally thought I’d be writing.”
Father smiled his charming smile and placed a kiss on the back of Ross’s hand. “We would be honored to have you write about our pretzels,” he said. “I do hope you’ve seen that though we live a little differently than most of the rest of society, we are all happy, healthy, productive people here at the ranch, and we only wish to have the privacy that everyone else is entitled to at their residences. And please, call me Ron.”
