by Alice Ward
“Jesus, why don’t you just put me in a nunnery?” she wailed dramatically.
“Those are the rules and if you keep it up, the list grows longer. It’s up to you, Marga. If you behave responsibly, the rules are removed. If you don’t — well, you get the gist, and I can be pretty creative when I want to.”
“Allllll right! Have it your way, Mom!” She leapt off the sofa and headed toward her room.
“Oh, and Marga?”
She spun around on the stairs and gave me that now what look.
“Just so you know. You might own the car, but I own the keys to the wheel boot.”
Her eyebrows arched in question, and I pointed out the window as I leafed through a magazine. She jogged to the door and opened it. “What’s that?” she shrieked, referring to the hideous orange wheel boot I’d attached to her front wheel.
“That, my dear girl, is why I get to be the mom for at least two more years.”
*
My phone buzzed, and I was surprised to see Brandon’s name on the caller ID. “Brandon! What a delight! How long has it been?”
Brandon was a former college friend, and he’d helped me with several projects that called for an attorney through the years. We hadn’t seen one another for a long time. He used to carry a torch for me.
“Auggie, my love. I’ve been thinking of you.”
“Sweet talker, you. Aren’t you married yet?”
“Came dreadfully close a couple of times, but none of them could hold a candle to you, dear one.”
I couldn’t stop the grin. “Brandon, why don’t we get together? I’d love to catch up.”
“I was hoping for just that sort of invite, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, wonderful! Why don’t you come over tomorrow after work and we’ll cook out and have a nice chat? This Indian summer is the perfect weather.”
“See you then!”
Brandon showed up a bit earlier than I’d planned. I had an idea that he wanted to chat alone before Worth got home. There had always been some jealousy between the two of them. Although I’d always flirted with Brandon, my heart belonged to Worth. It had from the moment I met him, for better or for worse.
“So, what’s going on in your life?” he asked after sitting down with his drink in his hand. He’d kissed me on the cheek and hugged me just a bit longer than necessary when he first came in. He smelled of being freshly showered and shaved. It was nice to have a man take some time to be well-groomed for you alone. I was flattered.
“Well, other than the farm, there’s actually quite a bit.” I filled him in on Hawk and the twins having stepped into a world of quasi-adulthood by driving. “Marga is giving me fits.”
As if on cue, the door opened, and Marga stepped out. I heard Brandon’s indrawn breath. Marga nodded to him, and he stood immediately. “Marga, you’ve turned into a woman since I saw you last. You’re the spitting image of your mother at your age.”
“Not sure if that’s a compliment,” she practically snarled, eyeing me.
Brandon flushed a bit at the cockiness of her attitude, and he glanced at me. I shook my head. “Did you need something, Marga?”
“Yeah. Lily wants to talk to you.”
“Would you tell her I’m with a guest and ask her to come up to the house?”
“I guess,” Marga allowed with a dramatic sigh and left.
Brandon cleared his throat.
“See what I mean?” I put to him. “Was I ever like that?”
“You, my darling, were exactly like that!” he answered and knew instantly that it wasn’t going to find favor with me. “Don’t get me wrong, Auggie. You are every bit as beautiful as you were in college, but you had a wild streak in you. She’s got it too. I don’t envy you.”
“You need to settle down and have some children while you still have a chance, Brandon.”
“Need the right woman. I only knew one so far who would fill the bill and she’s been taken,” he said, winking at me.
“Auggie?” I heard Lily’s voice by the front door.
“I’m out here on the patio,” I called out and she materialized in the doorway of the opened slider. “C’mon out and join us. Make yourself a drink.”
As she came out, Brandon stood and offered her his chair. “No, it’s fine, I’ll sit over here,” she said as she chose a rocker, her drink balanced on its arm.
I introduced Brandon and Lily and was surprised to see Brandon literally turn in his chair toward her. I smiled to myself. It seemed the man was attracted.
“Lily is my farm manager, but also a good friend. She and I had a lot in common — the way we grew up.”
Brandon nodded. “Well, it just so happens that I like Auggie-style of women,” he said boldly, and Lily laughed, recognizing that she was being flirted with.
“Well, I don’t know. Shall I leave you two alone?” I joked, and Lily laughed even more. Actually, it was more like a girlish giggle. It was sweet to witness.
“I was coming up to talk to you about Lightning Sal. She’s doing really well, and I think she’s ready for the track. Thought you might want to let her owners know.”
I nodded and made a mental note. “Brandon, why don’t you tell Lily a bit about yourself and the kind of trouble we used to get into. I’m going inside to check with Letty about dinner.”
They barely noticed me leaving, and I realized I’d just lost a beau. I went inside and found Worth standing in the doorway.
“Did I miss the party invite?” he said sarcastically.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m home early and I can’t help but notice that Brandon’s car is in the drive. You didn’t expect me so soon?”
“Didn’t realize I had to clear it with you first. Brandon was invited for dinner, and I’m on my way to talk to Lettie.”
Worth didn’t look like he believed me. He looked over my shoulder and saw Lily’s profile. “What’s going on out there?”
“Lily came up to talk to me — farm business. Make yourself a drink and go ahead and join them. I’ll be back out shortly.”
“Hmph.” He turned on his heel and went upstairs.
I shrugged and went into the kitchen to see where Letty was with dinner. “Our guest list has increased by one and the others are home early,” I told her and she nodded. Nothing could shake her.
By the time I got back out to the patio, Worth had changed to casual attire and joined the other two. Brandon was telling a joke — one that Lily found hilarious, judging by her laughter, but Worth was just barely smiling.
It was going to be a long night.
Worth
I hadn’t been to Joe’s in ages. When I walked in, it smelled like home — if not better. Home had become a war ground. Intense resentment and anger floated about like sludge on a pond. I knew Auggie was deep down angry. She felt betrayed on behalf of the children. I got that. What I didn’t get was how she separated her own culpability. She had gone along with everything I’d suggested without so much as a whimper or question. What had been good for me, was good for her too. Why didn’t she see that?
I ordered a beer at the bar and got a good look over from the other patrons.
“Where you been, Worth, ol’ boy?” came a few voices. When had I gone from “my boy” to “ol’ boy?” I gave out a general wave and realized then that there was no tweed, patch-pocket jackets as in the old days. The faces I saw were generally in my own age range. The torches had been passed, and mine had been one of the first.
I felt some movement to my left and looked to see Tom Duncan sliding over to the stool next to me. “Been a while,” he said, nodding.
“Yes, it has.”
“That’s a pretty nice place Auggie and you built out there. I hear lots of talk ‘bout it.”
“Is that so. Well, thank you.”
“Worth, now I’m not someone who gets into other people’s business, but I’ve known you a long time, and I know how you are. We been friends and I know if the situation
were reversed, I’d want you to tell me.”
I put down my drink and steeled myself. A dozen possibilities passed like a slideshow in my head. “Tom, I think you’d better just spit it out before I imagine the worst.”
He took a gulp of his beer as a preamble and set it down. “It’s Marga.”
“Marga?” She wasn’t even on my dread list.
“Yeah, I pretty much figured you didn’t know. Worth, don’t get pissed at me but dammit, if I didn’t say anythin’ and somethin’ happened, well…”
“What’s she doing?” I wanted him to just tell me.
“She’s runnin’ wild, Worth. Folks are talkin’.”
I felt my blood chill. “Can you give me an example, Tom?”
“You just got her a new car, ain’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the word is that a few nights ago, she got somebody to buy her a keg, and they went down to the creek, there at Witch’s Holler, and had a party. I’ve heard ten kids, and I’ve heard thirty, so I don’t know. Anyhow, a few of them got to drag racin’, and you know as well as I do, Worth, them roads there ain’t nothin’ but curves. It ain’t no place for drunk kids to be runnin’ cars. Well, somebody called the sheriff, and one of his deputies went over to check it out. Word is that he lit out after a white Mercedes convertible, and it outrun him. ‘Tween you and me, I believe he let it go; probably knew he was bitin’ off a bigger chunk of trouble than he wanted, but they don’t take kindly to no kids makin’ a joke outta them, you know?”
I measured my words. “That the only incident, Tom?”
“No, Worth, it ain’t. There’s been talk ‘bout her bein’ seen with lots o’ older boys ‘fore she got her own car. Now I ain’t sayin’ she did nothin’, but if it were my daughter, I’d want ta know. Hope you ain’t sore at me.”
I patted his arm. “No, Tom, not at all. I take it as a favor. Most people would have figured I’ve got something coming and let it go. You’re a good friend, Tom,” I reassured him and downed the rest of my beer. I slapped a hundred on the bar and said to the bartender, “Keep my friend here supplied, would you?” I patted Tom on the back and left.
My head was spinning when I hit the cool air. Words were coming back to me then. Words from Auggie, complaining about Marga’s rebelliousness. I knew they were at odds, but I’d had my own problems with Auggie and decided it was easier to turn a blind eye.
I knew I couldn’t just jump on Marga without some kind of proof. If I called her on her behavior, she’d only up her game. She had the LaViere blood, and I knew how that worked. I’d have to tread carefully. Most of all, I couldn’t be seen as taking Auggie’s side. Marga might take off entirely if she thought she had no ally in the house at all. I’d have to watch silently from the sidelines and let Auggie take the hit as the bad parent. I knew, sure as hell, it wasn’t going to be a fun house.
In fact, I didn’t particularly want to go back there right then. This new information was too fresh. I needed time to cool down so I headed to the clinic. When I arrived, my supervising psychologist, Deborah Hunt, was in her office. I popped my head in. “Got a minute?”
“Of course,” she smiled and waved me to a chair. “What’s up?”
“You work with teens far more than I ever have. I’d like an ear, if you have time.”
“Which one?”
“Marga, of course. She’s the one most like me.”
“There’s your answer.” She slid her chair back from her desk and crossed her magical legs. They were why I’d hired her in the first place. I tried not to think how long it had been since Auggie and I had been in the same bed at the same time.
“I get that, but I’m too close to it.”
“So, what’s she been up to? Drugs?” Her face had lost its humor, and she was serious. She knew better than to mock me when it came to my family.
“Not sure, but I don’t think so. Ran into an old friend of the family who’s talking beer, car racing and boys. I wasn’t aware of any of this,” I lied. In some corner of my mind, I thought if I made Deborah a witness to my innocence, I’d be less responsible if something bad happened.
“Does Auggie know?” she asked calmly, a slightly quizzical look on her face.
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
I realized I’d just caught my own foot in the trap. I tried a side maneuver. “Well, she’s been complaining about Marga lately, but I thought it was just one of those mother / daughter things.”
“Look, Worth. Don’t drag me into this. I’m not your moral alibi if something happens.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop me. “If you know that Auggie’s upset, then you know something is up with Marga. Don’t be coy and don’t make Auggie the heavy. That won’t solve Marga’s issues; it will only amplify them. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I’m just voicing something you don’t want to hear.”
I looked down at the carpet, and the women’s voices in the health spa portion of the clinic suddenly were too loud, too raucous. “You’re right.” Jesus, do women always have to stick together? “So what do you recommend?”
“I understand your eldest son reappeared in your life recently?” she asked, taking a side track.
I nodded. “It’s been something less than a joyous reunion all the way around. The twins are relatively indifferent and Hawk, as he’s known now, has an axe to grind. He’s also engaged. Lots of tension.”
“Well, Worth, my best advice is to go home and heal your family. You’ve got new dynamics and sensitivities involved. Your family grew by two overnight. That’s bound to have repercussions. Perhaps Marga is taking advantage of your lack of attention, or maybe wanting more.”
“I think her behavior is not an especially new thing.”
“Maybe it’s just new to you because you haven’t been paying attention.”
My brows went up. “I seem to be getting accused of that a lot lately.”
“There you go. That’ll be a thousand bucks. Leave your check at the door.” Deborah’s arms were crossed as she grinned.
“Worth every penny,” I said, taking a long and obvious look at her legs as I left.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Auggie
Lily texted me from the barn. We had a mare about to foal, and there was some sign of distress. I hopped into the golf cart I kept next to the patio and headed down. It was just as she’d reported.
“Did you call the vet?” I asked anxiously.
Lily nodded. “On his way.”
“See what you can do to make her comfortable in the meantime and move the other animals to the farthest stalls. We don’t need this anxiety feeding the rest of them.” Lily nodded and signaled the hands. They moved the mare to a special birthing room that was separate from the rest and were walking her around to ease her discomfort.
“When was she due?” I asked Lily.
“Not for two weeks.”
I frowned. This wasn’t great news. There might be something wrong with the foal. The mare was restless, her muzzle thrashing from side to side. She was trying to lie down, but she wasn’t far enough along. We needed to keep her walking until the vet could get here and locate the position of the foal.
“Auggie?”
I turned and saw Liane headed toward me.
“Sorry, Liane, not a great time right now. Why don’t you go up to the house?”
“What’s wrong?”
“We have a mare in trouble. The vet is on the way.”
“Where is she?”
I pointed to the birthing room, and Liane nodded and walked in that direction. I was about to stop her when I remembered she was a zoologist, and this wouldn’t be unfamiliar territory. Liane opened the door to the room and went in. She stood a few moments to let the mare get used to her and then approached, her hand extended. Liane took the reins from the hand who was walking the mare and I saw her nod, encouraging him to leave the room.
As I watched, Liane la
id her head against the muzzle of the mare, petting her ears, her mouth moving. She was talking to the mare. As Liane talked, she slowly moved down the length of the distressed horse, her hand against her swollen flank.
The hand who’d been in there was standing next to me. “Look at that. She’s got that horse so calm you’d think she was eating a handful of oats.”
I knew the calmer the horse remained, the better chance she had of slowing down labor until the vet could arrive. Liane continued to stroke the horse, calming her with every touch. As I watched, the mare actually laid her head atop Liane’s shoulder, as though getting a hug. It was the strangest thing I’d ever seen a horse do. I heard the crunch of tires behind me and soon saw the vet jogging in, his bag in his hand. I explained what was going on, and he nodded and joined Liane in the birthing room.
The vet examined the mare, and his face was grave. He quickly emerged and told me that the foal was stuck. He might lose one or both of the animals. When he re-entered, Liane knelt down into the straw, the mare at her side. She ran her hands up and down the mare’s flank, massaging it. The vet positioned himself at the back of the mare, reaching in to guide the foal. Liane’s position was one of encouraging coaxing, and the hand opened the door enough for us to hear what was going on. We stood back a bit so as not to upset the mare. Ten minutes later, the first leg emerged, and the mare shook her head in pain. Liane was singing to the mare, and she put her lips close to the mare’s ear, stroking her, using her body to hug the mare in a rhythmic, encouraging manner. The vet continued to do his work and before long, a scrawny foal lay on the floor, encased in its birth sack. The mare was panting, but she fought to get to her feet and to begin to clean the foal.
The people witnessing this were shaking their heads. They’d never seen anything like that and had all expected to lose the animals. The vet emerged shortly thereafter, washing his hands and shaking his head. “She did it, the young woman in there.”
“That’s my future daughter-in-law, Liane,” I told him, feeling the growing pride in my voice. “She’s a zoologist.”
