A Strange Little Band

by Judith B. Glad

  "No! Wait Uncle Ward. I'd like your advice too."

  He raised one eyebrow, but said nothing as he pulled an Adirondack chair close and perched on one arm.

  Squeak...squeak...squeak. Hetty listened to the night sounds, and sought the right words.

  "Well?" Gran reminded her, after they'd sat in silence for several minutes.

  "Well... Shit!" The word just sat there, waiting for someone to react. "I'm sorry," Hetty apologized, hating the necessity to do so. "This is hard."

  "As long as she doesn't know about Evan, I say you should let that particular sleeping dog snooze in peace." Gran's tone was sharp. "No one else is apt to say anything. Heavens, Hetty, He's a man. You don't need to protect him any longer."

  "I'm not. That's not... It's mother's drinking. I'm worried--"

  The faint sounds from the game room rose in volume as someone opened the door. Hetty leaned forward, but she couldn't see inside. Nonetheless, she kept quiet until she heard one of the girls say, "There aren't any sodas in the fridge. I'll go down to the Pink House and get some. Who wants what?"

  She leaned back and gave the swing another push. Squeak...squeak...squeak...in counter point to young voices raised in laughter.

  Charlene emerged from the front door. "Oh, hi, Gran, Hetty, Uncle Ward. I'm going down--"

  "We heard," Gran told her. "Will you bring me a Sprite, please?"

  "Sure. Anybody else want anything?"

  "Diet Coke for me," Hetty said.

  "I'll come along and help you carry," Uncle Ward told her.

  Hetty waited until they'd gone around the corner of the house. " I was hoping Mother was doing better."

  "Might you be making a mountain out of a molehill?"

  Unable to sit still any longer, Hetty rose and paced to the porch railing. She stared out into the night, watching the slight movement of the pine branches in the occasional puff of wind. The stiff, short needles sparkled, almost as if they were icy, yet the temperature couldn't be much under seventy. "Maybe I am," she said, at last. "Or maybe I'm just afraid that having Frank here will set Mom off again." She turned around, leaning against an upright post. "Gran, do you think Dad's still in denial?"

  "I think this isn't something we want to discuss out here, where we might be overheard. Why don't we go up to my bedroom?"

  "Okay, but would you mind if we wait for Uncle Ward? I really would like his advice too."

  Ward and Charlene returned after about ten minutes, carrying between them a red-and-white picnic cooler. "We took all the ice, Aunt Hetty. But I refilled the trays."

  "You can take some from the freezer here when you go back down. Ahh, this is nice and cold," Gran said, accepting the can of Sprite. "Thank you."

  She led the way up the stairs, climbing slowly. Again Uncle Ward aimed his raised eyebrow Hetty's way, but she just shook her head, mouthing Wait.

  Gran occupied the largest of the four bedrooms, one with its own roomy bath and an enormous walk-in closet. There was a comfortable sitting area near the wide windows overlooking the lawn and the cookshack. Hetty and Gran took the two brocade wing chairs and Uncle Ward pulled the rocking chair close. "Okay, enough mystery. Let's have it, Hetty."

  "I asked Gran if she thought Dad was still denying that my mother's an alcoholic. What do you think?"

  Uncle Ward leaned back and scratched at his chin. "Hard to say. He watches her pretty closely. Last night he talked her out of having a third drink during the Bridge game."

  "So far this week her drinking has been under control. Are you sure it's getting worse?" Gran said. "You haven't seen her since Christmas, have you?"

  "She seems to be trying really hard to be on her best behavior." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "I think she's sneaking drinks, though, and sooner or later her control is going to slip."

  Ward frowned. "Have you discussed this with your father?"

  "I've tried to talk to him, but he refuses to discuss it. Last Christmas, after a really awful scene because he hadn't bought her the dinner ring she'd hinted about, I asked him point blank if he didn't think Mother was drinking too much. He looked me straight in the eye and said 'Your mother would never overindulge.' He was royally pissed.

  "I haven't seen them since, you know. They never come to visit me, and I've...well, I've avoided visiting them. Every time I do, Mother starts in on how I've wasted my education, and Dad asks when I'm going to give him a grandchild."

  "Both are the sorts of things most parents would say, although I would think Jocelyn should have come to terms with your choice of career by now. Particularly since you've made such a success of it."

  "Don't make excuses for them, Gran. They're both control freaks. I'm not living the life they laid out for me, and neither one of them is going to accept that it's my right."

  "You know, kiddo, I'm hearing a couple of issues here," Ward said. "Which one bothers you the most?"

  Trust a civil engineer to cut to the chase. Hetty took a deep breath and fought down the familiar sensation of choking that arguments with her parents always engendered. "Her drinking. I can deal with the arguments, the disapproval. God knows, I should be used to them, after ten years. But I'm really concerned about Mother's drinking." She opened her hands, reaching out, she realized, for help.

  "And your father's blindness, if he really is refusing to see the problem," Gran said. "But if she's controlling it, that makes his denial so much easier."

  Uncle Ward shook his head. "There's more to this than her needing to drink, Hetty. I respect your dad, but I've always thought he did his best to repress Joss's natural high spirits."

  "He does, but she never seemed to mind. In fact, he's often said she lightened his naturally gloomy disposition. The trouble is, she's not really fun anymore. At least it doesn't seem to me she is. Like the other night. When I was a kid, she'd have been egging me on, probably would have taken part in the food fight."

  "You know Jennifer will never forgive you for that, don't you?" Ward said, with a chuckle.

  "Oh, like I'm going to lose sleep over Jennifer's opinion of me. I'm sure she's a very nice person, but I can't stand her."

  "She's a good mother, if over-protective," Gran said. "Eric seems very happy with her."

  "Of course he is. She agrees with everything he says, and waits on him hand and foot."

  "Is that what you think?" Gran sounded surprised. "That Eric rules that particular roost?"

  "Of course. No, really," she insisted, as Gran and Uncle Ward both shook their heads. "She's always reminding those poor kids that their father wouldn't approve of whatever they're doing."

  "It's not Hetty's fault, Mother. She's an only child." There was a hint of chuckle in Uncle Ward's tone.

  "What's that got to do with it?"

  "Just that you've not had a lot of opportunity to observe family dynamics," Gran told her with a smile. She reached across and took Hetty's hand. "Enough about Eric and Jennifer. Tell me what you'd like us to do to help."

  "That's the trouble. I don't think there's anything you can do. Maybe talk to Dad, but only if the right opportunity offers itself. He's... He doesn't take kindly to outside interference in what he considers family business."

  "We are family!"

  "Well, yes, but not inner family, not to Dad. That's just Mother and me, and we're his responsibility. I'm not sure he'd listen to anything you say." Hetty made a fist and pressed it against her mouth. "I shouldn't have said anything. I don't think there's anything anyone can do. Not until Dad accepts what the real situation is."

  "You might be the only person he'll listen to. Have you tried?"

  "Ward, he won't listen to me. Maybe he would to one of you. I know he respects you both. He's said more than once that you both give the family's welfare priority."

  "I'll do what I can," Gran said, patting her hand.

  "And so will I." Uncle Ward stood up.

  Hetty hugged them, first Gran then Ward. "Thanks," she said, holding tight to her emotions. There we
re tears lurking, but she'd be damned if she'd let them show.

  "Anytime," Ward replied, as he opened the door. "I'll go down with you. I want to get a book before Frances comes back. Having her sleeping in the library is putting a crimp in my plans to catch up on my reading."

  "Wait--"

  He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

  She motioned for him to close it. "Frank. He'll be here Thursday."

  "Frank? Your boyfriend?" Clearly Gran had not told even Ward.

  "I...I guess you could call him that. Or maybe my partner. I don't know yet, but I feel more for him than I have for any of the men I've--"

  While she groped for the right words, Gran chuckled. "You've slept with. Good heavens, Hetty, I know about sex--probably a good deal more than you do, for all of that. And I've never expected you to live a celibate life."

  Gran was eighty-three. She wasn't supposed to be so...so open.

  Uncle Ward had his hand over his mouth. Hiding a grin? She suspected so.

  "There's this little matter of no empty beds," Hetty said, trying for bravado, but feeling her cheeks grow even warmer. "I was thinking I'd get a room in Island Park, or maybe up in West Yellowstone."

  Apparently Uncle Ward couldn't hold it in any longer. His laughter covered Hetty's last few words. "You don't do anything the easy way, do you?" he said through the guffaws. "Your folks are going to have a fit, you know."

  "It's not funny."

  "No," he said, sobering, "it's not. I'm sorry, Hetty. I shouldn't have laughed, but if you could have seen your face when Mother said that about sex--" He quickly stifled his laughter. "Sorry again. What is it you want advice about?"

  She looked at Gran, who was just sitting there, smiling. "How am I going to tell them? I don't want to send Mother into one of her tirades--or worse. I wish I'd never asked him to come," she said. "I wish I'd gone to San Francisco with him, like he wanted me to, and never come here at all."

  "But you wanted him to meet your family, didn't you?"

  The stinging in her eyes wouldn't go away, and now there was a tightness in her throat. "Uh-huh. Frank's different, not like any of the men I've...I've known before. He's calm and sensible and sexy and... I wish I'd met him a long time ago. Before I got so damn cynical."

  "Cynical? That's the last word I'd use. I think you're in love and not sure how to handle it."

  The words hit Hetty like a blow. "In love? Me? Not a chance," she said, without thinking. "Lust maybe. Yeah, I'm definitely in lust. Love's for romantic kids, and I've gone way past that."

  Uncle Ward returned to the rocker and sat down. "Sure you have. That's why you haven't even considered putting this Frank into the Blue House with the rest of us bachelors."

  "No way!"

  He looked over at Gran. "He's coming Thursday, you said. so he'll only be here three nights, right? Mother, what would you say to trading beds with Hetty?"

  "What an excellent idea. There's no reason for me to occupy this big room, and I certainly don't need a king-sized bed."

  "Oh, no, I can't--"

  "Of course you can. Besides, the thought of not having to climb these stairs every night is certainly appealing." She winked. "I'd rather enjoy being one of the girls anyway. Give me a chance to see how Annie's doing."

  Feeling sort of like she'd been flattened by a steam-roller, Hetty shook her head. "Gran, you are really bad."

  "Why thank you. Now, let's talk about how we're going to break the news to your parents."

  * * * *

  "I really should get back," Annie said, when they'd eaten the last grape and were gathering the remains of their supper into a plastic bag for disposal. The sun had set, but the western sky was still aglow with color, long streaks of clouds glowing peach and gold and delicate pink. Mosquitoes whined around them, sensing their heat but held at bay by the repellent they'd both applied.

  "It's not that late."

  "No, but my family will be getting worried. I told them I was going fishing, not camping." As soon as the words were on the end of her tongue, she wanted to bite them back.

  Too late.

  Clay turned. His gaze moved back and forth across her face, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. "I wouldn't mind," he said, not moving.

  "Oh, man, talk about opening mouth and inserting foot." She laughed, or tried to. "What I meant was--"

  "Not to worry, Annie. I know what you meant. I meant what I said, too."

  She turned away, unable to face him. "I'm sorry, Clay. I just--" Wrapping her arms around herself, she bent almost double. "Oh, God, I can't--"

  "Hey, it's not a problem," he said. coming up behind her and setting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not asking for anything. Just letting you know that if you decide--"

  "I won't."

  "Fine." Giving her shoulders a quick squeeze, he released her and stepped away "So, do you want to fish again on Thursday?"

  With a shuddering breath, she pulled herself together. "Yes, please. I'd like that."

  "Great! I'll meet you here about six, okay?"

  "Okay." She looked around, trying to remember what she'd brought with her. Couldn't think of anything she hadn't already put into her car. "I've got to go. Good night."

  Hands shaking, belly roiling, she opened the car door. "Clay, I--"

  "Don't say anything," he told her, stepping forward, keeping the open door between them. He leaned forward, touched his lips briefly, lightly. to hers. "See you Thursday."

  Before she could react, he'd turned away and was striding around the nose of his pickup.

  Annie got into her car and pulled the door shut. She dropped the keys, scrabbled on the floor until she found them. Fumbled with the seat belt, managed to get it fastened.

  The sound of the pickup's engine broke the stillness and pulled her out of her daze. She knew he wouldn't go anywhere until she did, so she started her car and, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, guided it along the graveled road until she came to the ranch entrance. The lights of the pickup stayed in her rear-view mirror all the way.

  She expected him to turn around when she pulled into the ranch, but he didn't. He followed her all the way to the compound. When she turned into the parking area next to the Pink House, he slowed, came to a stop in the middle of the narrow drive.

  Not until Annie was inside did he drive on. She knew, because she stood by the front window and watched his headlights circle the compound, then fade away down the hill toward the main road.

  She was really glad the bunkroom was empty. Talking about this evening was the last thing she was interested in doing. With any luck, she'd be in bed and asleep--or pretending to be--before her roommates came in.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wednesday

  Clay was still in a state of disbelief as he drove to St. Anthony, the county seat. The lawyer his former boss had recommended had an opening today. Even better, Jim Larsen had already spoken to Abe's lawyer and they were working together to draw up the papers for the sale.

  "I guess life is less complicated in small towns," he said, once he was settled in Jim's office, holding a cup of coffee.

  "Not really," Jim said. It's just that Abe's been hoping someone like you would come along. He knew what he wanted out of the property and what kind of terms he'd settle on. Karla--his lawyer--pretty much had everything ready.

  "You're making me feel like I walked into a baited trap. If I wasn't acquainted with Abe, I'd start holding onto my wallet." He smiled to show he was joking.

  He hoped he was joking.

  Jim laughed. "Abe's about the most honest fellow I've ever known. That doesn't mean he's a fool or naÏve about money. He knew exactly what the property was worth, but it was more important to him to find the right buyer than to get top dollar."

  "So he said. I have to admit I was floored when he said he'd accept my offer. I'd figured we'd spend a month dickering."

  "He remembered you from the last time you'd stayed with him, so he didn't feel
like he was dealing with a stranger. Besides, Karla checked you out pretty well. She was determined to get Abe the best deal she could, given his stipulations."

  "And they were?"

  "Someone who loved fishing more than profit, who was willing to settle here and run the place himself instead of hiring a manager. Most of all, Karla said he wanted someone who'd last, and he figured you would. I think that's why he kept the price down for you."

  "For me? Are you saying he sold me the property for less than it was worth?" Clay hadn't believed in fairy godmothers since he was about five. He kept expecting a nasty surprise or two.

  Jim leaned back and propped on foot on the corner of his desk. "Let's just say he let you have it for low market. I know for a fact he could have gotten more if he'd held out for it. I had a resort developer in here just last month, looking for riverfront property, and he was willing to pay top dollar."

  Clay could only shake his head. "I feel like I've fallen into a rabbit hole." He rose to his feet. "No sense in keeping you any longer. When shall I come back?"

  Jim grinned. "How about three this afternoon? Can you stay in town that long?"

  "Now I know I'm in some strange other dimension. Nobody gets legal papers drawn up that fast."

  Jim shrugged. "It's a straightforward deal. You've agreed on the terms. The only question is how soon you want to settle."

  "Abe said he'd like to stay on until Labor Day. How about we close the tenth of September? I don't want to rush him."

  Jim made a note, and they parted with a handshake. Clay walked out of the office in a daze. He expected to see a white rabbit hopping down the street at any moment, watch in hand.

  * * * *

  "Wake up sleepy head. We're going for a hike."

  Annie rolled over and peered into the shadowy room. It was barely light, even with the blinds wide open. "Charlene? What on earth?"

  "We're going for a hike. I woke up a little while ago and heard the swans. Or something. Geese maybe? Anyhow, it sounded like they were on the river. Come on. Hurry. Before it gets too light."

  "I'll go get Kristi," CeCe said, as she pulled on her jeans.

  "Serhilda," Hetty muttered from under her pillow. "Invite Serhilda, too."