Kate never touched liquor in the middle of the day, and Belle knew that. She decided to humor her mother. "Like what, Mamma?" She put the filled cups on the table and sat back down.
"Like a double shot of courage with a jigger of common sense for a chaser." Belle pointed her spoon in Kate's direction. "You are about to make a big mistake."
Mamma wasn't happy about Kate's decision to apologize to Suzie. So now she was being contrary and demeaning. "It wouldn't be the first one, and I doubt it will be the last."
"All right, we won't talk about it." Belle dumped sugar into her coffee. "We can talk about my wedding dress instead." She sipped from her cup. "Yes, pink, definitely pink. You are going to be my matron of honor, aren't you Kate?"
Mamma was sparing for a fight, and Kate wasn't going to fall into her little trap. "I look forward to being your matron of honor."
Belle's anger seemed to melt into thin air. Her face crumpled like old parchment. "Katie, don't do it please. You've been hurt enough already. Don't lay yourself open for more heartbreak."
Kate studied Belle's worried face and felt a pang of contrition. "Why don't you want me to apologize to Suzie, Mamma?"
"Because that would be the worse thing you could do, not only for you, but for your daughter, too."
Kate stared down into her cup, and thought if she hadn't wanted an honest answer from Belle, she shouldn't have asked. "I lost my temper, and said terrible things to Suzie."
"Suzie's your daughter, Kate. She should have been offering you her support instead of sitting in judgment on your actions."
Kate had never come to terms with what had happened between her and Suzie. Maybe it was time she did. "Suzie was young and impressionable. She listened to, and believed every word her father told her. She didn't realize I had a side too."
"Is that what you're going to apologize to Suzie for, her own lack of insight?" Belle took another sip of coffee. "Maybe you should apologize to Jim too."
"Don't be ridiculous, Mamma."
"It makes about as much sense. If you go dredging up the past the minute you see Suzie, you will kill any hope of ever reconciling with her." Belle spoke with somber intensity. "Suzie knows where the blame lies. But if you start trying to fix things, she'll deny that blame, and maybe succeed in refusing to ever face the truth."
What Belle said made sense. "What should I do, mamma?"
"Let Suzie make the first move."
"And if she doesn't? What then?"
"Then you have to accept her decision not to talk about what happened." Belle laid her hand on Kate's arm. "Suzie needs to come to terms with what happened, if she hasn't already, by herself, with no help from you or anyone else."
"Are you saying cut the aprons strings, Mamma?"
"I know how hard it is to do." Belle stood. "I have to make Cody's supper."
Kate drank the last of her coffee, and pushed her chair back. "I have to write a letter."
With her back to Kate, Belle ordered, "But no apologies."
"All right, Mamma, no apologies." If you wear pink, I think I'll wear a nice shade of blue."
"Something the color of your eyes?" Belle asked, as she took a bowl from the cabinet.
Kate swung out the door. "Exactly."
Kate wrote the letter to Suzie. It was no more than an impersonal little note telling Suzie how pleased she would be if both she and Michael would come to Belle's wedding.
Licking the flap of the envelope, Kate decided that Belle was right, she should let Suzie be the one to initiate any talk of the quarrel that had led to their estrangement. The last thing she wanted was to further alienate her daughter. But some sixth sense told her that until she and Suzie exorcised this demon of dissension that hung between them, it would always be there, lurking like some evil spirit, clouding any future relationship they might have.
During supper Cody and Mamma talked of nothing but the festival. "Let's take a lunch," Cody dug into a slice of lemon pie. "We can find a table in the park at lunch time and have a picnic."
"I'll pack that left over fried chicken." Belle ladled stew into her bowl.
Kate listened, amazed that they could find so much joy in planning a simple outing. She wanted to be as excited as Belle and Cody were, but her heart wasn't in it. "I think I'll go to bed and finish my book."
Cody set his coffee cup down. "Did you find somebody to make your ride tomorrow?"
"I left Hank a message," Kate admitted, with some reluctance.
Cody frowned. "That will go over like a lead balloon. I don't think Hank's the kind of man who likes to be told. Maybe you should have asked."
"I'm not one of Hank's hired hands. I don't have to ask." Out of the blue, Words York had said the day he read the agreement Kate had signed with Hank, floated into Kate's mind. "Everything seems to be in order, unless you think it is important that the duties you are to perform as a working hand on the ranch be spelled out." And she, idiot that she was, had said no.
Cody shifted in his chair. "I read that agreement, Kate. You are one of Hank's hired hands."
"It's too late now to change what I've done." Kate thought that could be the story of her life. "I'm going to bed."
Kate's feeling of depression wouldn't go away. She pushed her pillow against the head of her bed, and tried to concentrate on the book she held in front of her. Suzie's letter had brought back a host of old and bitter recollections: Jim's betrayal, Suzie's rejection, Michael's indifference, Lila's treachery. "Don't think about it," she told herself. But her mind wouldn't let her memories alone. She laid her book on her night stand, as past agonies converged to swamp her. Once again, she began to sort through old hurts.
Honesty forced her to admit that it wasn't Jim's betrayal, but the cruelty with which it was executed, that had devastated her. Jim had tossed her out of the house, then divorced her and taken the bulk of their worldly possessions without a shred of compassion or regret. And Kate hadn't lifted a finger to stop him.
Suzie's rejection had been a bitter blow. She had shown utter disregard for Kate's feelings. And Kate had reacted, not like an adult, but like an angry adolescent. She should have held onto her dignity, and demanded that Suzie respect her, not quarreled with her daughter like a petulant child.
Michael's indifference stemmed from his ignorance. Kate had never once told Michael any of the facts concerning the divorce settlement. She had wanted to protect him. She should have realized Michael was an adult, and didn't need her protection.
Lila's treachery was no more than the catalyst that converged to hasten the inevitable.
Why had it taken her so long to see what was now so clear? The pain of acceptance was devastating, but Kate forced herself to face a truth she had refused to come to grips with for three long years. What she had chosen to call strength, had been, in reality the line of least resistance. She should have stood up to Jim, demanded respect from Suzie, and been strong enough to tell Michael all the facts. Once past the initial pain, Kate acknowledged her folly, and the consequences. A lingering ache lodged around her heart, but with order from the chaos of old memories, came peace of mind. She pulled the chain on the light, and plunged the room into darkness. The sleep that took her was swift and sweet.
It seemed she had scarcely closed her eyes when she heard a voice calling, "Kate, get up." She put a pillow over her head, and turned over. "Go away, Mamma. It can't be morning yet. I just closed my eyes."
"It's six o'clock. Time to rise and shine."
Kate complained, "There should be a law against being so cheerful so early in the morning."
Belle pulled the chain on the light, flooding the room with brightness. "Today's festival day. We want to get an early start. Breakfast is waiting and Cody's doing the outside chores. Come eat." She hurried from the room without waiting for an answer.
Kate dragged herself from bed and began to dress.
She combed her hair, applied lipstick, then leaned very near the mirror, and studied the face that looked back at he
r. "You're not a bad looking old girl, considering,"
From the doorway, Belle asked, "Considering what?" Coming across the room, she handed Kate a cup of coffee, then sat on the bed.
Kate laid the comb on the dresser, and turned to face her mother. "Considering that I've spent the last three years of my life with my head in the sand."
"I swear Kate, sometimes you talk in riddles."
Kate sipped her coffee, then wiped away the lipstick smear that hung on the rim. "Don't swear, Mamma. It's not ladylike." She smiled, thinking it was not every day she could beat Belle at her own game.
"My Lord," Belle was grinning as she exited the room. "There's nothing worse than a smart-mouthed kid."
Kate followed Belle across the living room, saying to her mother's back, "I'm not a kid, Mamma."
"I was going to cook your eggs. Now I think I'll let you do it. What did you do, grow up over night?" Belle sat at the kitchen table and sipped from her coffee cup. "Cold as Christmas." She pushed the cup away.
Kate refilled Belle's cup, then opened the refrigerator, and stood staring at its contents. "Is that possible?"
"Is what possible? Cook an egg for me, too."
"Can somebody grow up over night?" Kate dropped eggs into hot grease.
"Depends on who you spent the night with. I can remember a few times I went to bed feeling like a girl, and woke up the next day feeling like a natural woman."
"Mamma honestly!" Kate the plate of eggs on the table.
The scraping of feet on the back step, heralded Cody's entrance. "Things are all done up outside. Are you ladies ready to hit the road?"
"Mamma's not a lady," Kate reached for a biscuit. "She's a woman, but I don't think she can qualify as a lady."
Cody snickered. "I must have missed something. Did you two have a disagreement?"
Belle smiled. "A little one. It must have started about the time Kate learned to talk. But this time I agree with my daughter. I'm a woman, and Kate's a lady, but she's not a woman yet. I think she needs a few more nights to grow up."
Cody sat down beside Belle. "Yep, I missed something." He took a long drink from Belle's coffee cup. "Stick out your tongue, woman."
"Do you mean me?" Belle asked.
"I must, since you're the only woman in here."
Belle let her tongue slip through her lips. "Wike dis?" Her teeth gripping her tongue distorted her words.
"Yep. I was right." A twitch pulled at Cody's whiskers.
"About what?" Kate was too curious not to ask.
With a wag of his head, Cody declared, "Belle's tongue has barbed wire growing right out of it."
Cody and Kate burst into laughter.
Feigning indignation, Belle pushed her plate back. "It's not enough that I have a smart mouthed daughter who waits until she's forty-six years old to grow up, then does it by spurts and jerks in the middle of the night, now I have a man with a razor sharp wit and a tongue to match."
"Are you complaining, Mamma?"
"Yes, I wish it had happened years ago." Without stopping to catch her breath, Belle directed, "Kate, get the quilt off the couch. Cody, you get the picnic lunch." She stood and pushed her chair under the table. "Wear a hat, Kate. It will be hot outside today."
Kate went for the quilt, then waited with Belle on the porch for Cody to bring his pickup around from the barn.
The sides of the road to St. Agnes were ablaze with spring flowers. Kate thought she had never before seen such a riot of color. "The countryside is beautiful."
"It's springtime in the brush country." Cody made a small sweeping gesture with his hand. "In most places spring slips up behind, and taps you on the shoulder. In South Texas she looks you right in the eye, then slugs you in the gut."
Cody and Belle began to discuss the various kinds of wild flowers that grew along the roadside.
Kate leaned her head back, and listened to the spirited debate that sprang up between them.
"A bluebonnet is not a flower, it's a weed." Cody asserted. "It's a pretty weed, but all the same, it's a weed."
"Tell me," Belle argued, with the illogical reasoning that punctuated so many of her arguments, "how a state flower can be a weed?"
Even before they reached the city limits of St. Agnes, traffic was stacked bumper to bumper along the narrow farm to market road.
"Where do we park?" Belle looked toward the fairgrounds.
"I think that man up there is showing us." Cody pulled on to the shoulder of the road, and drove across an open field.
A skinny young man wearing a red arm band, and brandishing a neon stick, pointed to an open spot at the end of a long line of cars.
As Belle and Cody were taking off their jackets, and locking doors, Kate began to walk toward the fairgrounds, intrigued by what she saw. "Look, Mamma, it's like a circus, a fair, and a carnival, all rolled into one." She had to shout to make herself heard over the blast of music and the noise of the crowd.
"I never saw so many people." Belle observed. "Half of South Texas must be here."
Cody caught her hand. "Let's go exploring, Belle."
"We'll meet here at noon," Belle called to Kate. "We can find a table and have lunch."
Kate wanted no restrictions placed on her this day. It had been a long time since she had felt so care free and glad to be alive. "I won't be here for lunch." Her boot heels sank deeper into the soft soil of the field. "I'll see you at five this afternoon. I can't miss the old fiddler's contest."
Belle opened her mouth to protest.
"Let her go, Belle," Cody held onto Belle's hand. "She needs some time alone."
Belle nodded her agreement, as hand in hand they begin to walk toward the fairground.
Stepping through the fairground gate was like stepping into another world. A temporary world whose facade of make-believe covered the seamy reality of a more permanent existence. Today, Kate decided, she would buy illusion, and not count the cost. There would be time enough tomorrow to barter back her losses.
Kate wandered around the fairgrounds, taking her time in seeing a kaleidoscope of sights. She watched the cloggers perform, then stopped to buy a smoked turkey leg. Admiring the turquoise and silver jewelry in a little corner booth took a considerable amount of time. Funnel cake sounded like a misnomer, and smelled like heaven. Kate slipped into a booth under an awning, and placed her order. After eating the last delicious crumb, she licked her sticky finger, and continued her wanderings.
She was set to turn yet another corner, and meander toward the livestock show, when she spotted a five-piece band playing under a canvas covered pavilion.
Kate found a seat on a back bench, and sat down to listen to the band and watch the couples who danced on a raised platform in the center of the covered area.
She had scarcely found her seat, and given her sticky fingers one last lick and swipe down the sides of her jeans, when her eyes were pulled to the profile of a tall man who sat on the bench beside her. It was York Taylor.
He wore jeans, a plaid shirt, and snake skin boots. Even attired in western regalia, he looked suave and cosmopolitan, but not out of place. It was not his physical appearance that moved Kate, it was the look of abject sadness that filled his eyes, and gilded his finely chiseled features.
Acting instinctively, Kate reached across the small space between them, and touched his hand. "York?"
As he turned, York's thoughts seemed to be making that long journey back from a place in his mind. "Kate McClure, as I live and breathe. I didn't see you sit down."
"You were a million miles away." Kate let her fingers wrap around his slim hand. "Are you all right?"
"Yes -- no. Not really. Memories were taking their toll. My wife, Carol, and I came here to dance each year. "I couldn't help remembering how she used to..." His voice broke.
His sad words bent Kate's mind to the distressing memory of the time she gone back to the house she and Jim had shared for over twenty years, to pick up the last of her belongings. She had been function
ing for months as a normal human being. Once inside the house, she fell apart, completely. "I understand."
For a long time, York said nothing, just held her hand and fought tears. After a while, the mask fell into place, his fingers relaxed, and he asked, "Where is your mother?"
"Around somewhere." Kate tried to pull her hand away.
York tightened his grip. "I need to hold on a little longer." A self-effacing smile tugged at his lips. "It would not be seemly for St. Agnes's bank president, and leading citizen to fall apart at the Bluebonnet Festival."
Kate squeezed his hand. "Are you alone?"
"More than you will ever know." His Adams's apple moved up and down as he swallowed deeply. "These memories crop up at the oddest times."
Kate had the feeling she was seeing a side of York Taylor that very few people ever witnessed. His vulnerability to his wife's memory touched her as nothing else could have. "You loved her, didn't you?"
He lowered his head, and closed his eyes. "Yes, very much"
Kate's compassionate heart bled. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Are you offering me a shoulder to cry on?" He turned toward her, and tried to smile.
"If you need one, yes."
"I could use some company." Looking around, he asked, "Are you alone?"
"I came with Mamma and Cody. I'm on my own until five this afternoon."
The aftermath of sadness still lingered in York's eyes. His touch on her hand was as gentle as a baby's breath. "Would you like to spend that time with me? I promise not to cry on your shoulder."
She wanted to tell him so many things, instead, she answered with a silent nod of her head.
York pulled her to her feet. "Where shall we go first?" He manacled her wrist with his long fingers. "Would you like to see the carnival rides and the side shows?"
The feeling that swept over Kate was protective, almost maternal. In this throng of humanity York had been alone and grieving. "I love the Ferris wheel."
"Would you like to ride it?"
Kate demurred. "I don't think that would be wise. A ride like that after all the food I've consumed might be a mistake."
"Then we'll see the side shows. Have you seen the two-headed calf?"
Barri Bryan - Return to Paradise.html Page 11
