Auntie set her glass of tea on a coaster. She glanced at me again and then turned to Meri. “I phoned Taylor, too. He’s on his way over.”
Meri’s polite smile turned instantly into a glare. “Aunt Beatrice, this is not a good time. Bea really isn’t feeling very good.”
“Yes, I can see that,” she said with a little sniff and a quick cut of her eyes in my direction. She folded her hands in her lap. “It can’t be helped. God works things out all in His own time. We can’t always see to His purposes.”
I set my feet back on the floor. When Aunt Beatrice invoked religion, it usually meant that she was distressed about something. The last time she mentioned God in casual conversation was when her trashcan caught on fire and she burned her garage to the ground.
“Auntie Bea,” I said to her gently, “has something happened?”
Auntie reached down and picked up her purse. She held it in her lap, her hands clutching at it tightly. She suddenly looked small and frightened.
Meri leaned forward and touched her arm. “Auntie,” she said, “if there’s something you need us to help you with, all you have to do is ask.” Meri raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t been vacuuming out the fireplace again have you?”
Auntie pursed her lips and shook her head. Meri turned to look at me with both eyebrows raised. I shrugged slightly. Auntie fumbled with the clasp of her purse, opened it and pulled out one of her embroidered linen handkerchiefs. She dabbed at the corner of her eye.
“Harvey called me just a little while ago,” she said to Meri and then turned to me. “He’s our mayor. We’re very close. He calls me for advice all the time.”
I suppressed a smile, but it was hard. “Yes, Aunt Beatrice, I know. Meri’s told me all about it.”
Auntie sat up a little straighter and gave Meri a prim, pleased little smile. “Well, he got a call from Bobby Duncan. Bobby runs the airstrip out off Highway Two Fifty-two. Mostly for crop dusting, you know.”
Both Meri and I nodded at her. Auntie opened her mouth, closed it again and pressed her handkerchief against her lips.
“What did Bobby say, Auntie?” Meri asked.
“Bobby told Harvey that three large men in dark suits and sunglasses arrived at the terminal just a little over an hour ago.” She lowered the hankie and leaned forward over her handbag. “Harvey said that Bobby said that they all had those little thingies in their ears and were standing around the building drinking black coffee and giving his flight control operator the third degree.” She slumped against the couch and pressed the hankie to her mouth again. “What are we going to do?” she cried from behind the hankie. “I love this town, and I don’t want to see it turned into a trash dump. I don’t want a prison in my backyard.”
I shot Meri a sharp look and she had the grace to blush. “That’s not going to happen, Auntie. I promise you, I’ll never let that happen.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked her eyes bright and shining. She leaned forward toward me, clutching her purse tight against her. “You should run, Collier. You should go. You should go right now. Go pack your things. Hop on your motorcycle and zoom away from here.”
I glanced at Meri who was looking amused. Aunt Beatrice was a woman of great passions, and I just happened to be one of them. Or, at least, she was passionate about the idea of me. The real me tended to disappoint her a little.
“I can’t go, Auntie,” I said to her gently. “There are things that hold me here.”
Auntie shot Meri a hateful look and then turned to me again. She spoke slowly and distinctly as if I could understand her better that way. “Collier, your father is coming.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Over the past few months I had listened, ad nauseam, to Aunt Beatrice tell me how evil my father was and how he epitomized everything that was wrong with America today. It was the idea of him that she hated. I had a feeling that when she met him, he would disappoint her a little bit, too.
“We have a plan, Auntie, that we think will work, but I want you to know that if it comes down to it, I won’t put this town in jeopardy. If I have to leave, I will,” I promised, mostly for the sake of her comfort, which tended to have a direct impact on mine.
She sniffed and dabbed again at her eyes leaving a little dot of lipstick high on her cheek. “You’re just the sweetest girl, Collier. I told that man, that in spite of everything, you were a credit to us all.”
“What man?” Meri asked.
“The man at the post office, dear.” She turned her head toward me. “He said that he already heard you were here, Collier, and was asking after you. He was a very nice polite young man, if a little on the thin side. I told him he needed to eat more. I offered to bake him a pie.” She turned back to Meri. “Surely I told you about all that.”
I sat very still. Meri slouched in her seat and drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch.
“No, Auntie,” she said. “You must have forgotten.”
“Well,” Auntie said with a flip of her hankie, “it was about a week ago, right before the ladies auxiliary meeting. It was my turn to host. I’m sure you remember,” she said knowing that we couldn’t have forgotten yet since our attendance had been required even over our strong objections. “I was so busy I must have forgotten to mention it.”
“What exactly did you talk to him about, Auntie?” I asked. Even to me, my voice sounded thin and strained. Meri looked over at me and her eyes widened a little. I must have gone pale. I certainly felt pale.
“We talked about you, Collier, of course. I told him that you, who everyone around here calls ‘Bea’ for some silly reason, were living with my niece. I said that you were a very great help with the farm work, that you plowed a straight row and had a very good hand for ornery old horses. I told him that you seemed to be very happy, not that I approved or anything, you understand, but one needs to let people find their own way.”
“Did he understand what it was that you didn’t approve of?” I asked, shooting a quick, frightened glance at Meri.
Aunt Beatrice pressed her hankie against her chest. “I did have to be blunter than I would have liked to have been.” She shook her head sadly. “I said that I didn’t approve of your sort of lifestyle, and he asked what was wrong with farming. I told him he was being silly. Nothing was wrong with farming. I used to farm, my parents farmed, everyone around here farms to some degree. It’s a good, wholesome life. But two women living together like a married couple, well that’s just unnatural.” She gave a little start as if she suddenly remembered it was the unnaturals that she was speaking to. “I’m sorry, my dears. I don’t mean to be so direct. I love you both, but I just can’t approve of it.”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and let it out slowly. I considered counting to ten, but I didn’t think that worked for fear. “Auntie, was the man really, really thin, with short red hair, wire glasses and squinty eyes?”
Auntie appeared surprised. “Yes, I believe so.”
My heart dropped into my toes. I looked at Meri. “That must have been Wesley, my father’s personal secretary. Everyone calls him Weasel. Anything he knows, my father knows.”
“Shit,” Meri said dropping her head into her hands.
“Meri Margaret Donovan!” Auntie said, pressing her hankie harder against her chest. “You will not use that language in my presence.”
“Sorry, Auntie Bea,” Meri said automatically. She lifted her head. Her face was pinched and pained. “That changes everything.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My father hadn’t even arrived and the plan was already in shambles.
“He won’t believe that you’re married to Taylor,” Meri said to me.
I shook my head.
Auntie’s eyes lit up. “Collier, when did you marry Taylor? Why didn’t you tell me? Why wasn’t I invited?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t marry Taylor, Auntie, that’s just what we were going to tell my father.” I held my hands over the fluttering in my stomach. “We thou
ght that if he thought I was already married, he would go away and leave us alone.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus, bless us and save us. What a ridiculous notion,” Auntie spluttered, looking indignant. “That wouldn’t be enough.”
“Yes, Auntie,” Meri said, “we know that. That’s why we went a little further with it, sort of for insurance.”
“Gracious Lord, have mercy, and all the saints preserve us,” Auntie said, fluttering her hankie underneath her chin. “What have you girls done?”
Meri made a funny sound, a choked laugh that was more than half a sob. “We thought it would be more convincing if Bea was to have Taylor’s baby.”
“Excuse me?” Auntie’s voice dropped low.
“Bea is pregnant with Taylor’s baby,” Meri said in precisely clipped words.
“Right now?” Aunt Beatrice asked.
“Yes,” I answered and my stomach made a funny gurgling sound. “For about three months now. We thought it would add some weight to our argument.” I looked down at my ankles that seemed slightly swollen to me, even if Meri swore it was too early for that.
Auntie stood abruptly, her purse falling to the floor. She glared at Meri and then at me, her eyes snapping angrily. “How did this happen?” she asked and then shook her head. “No, no, don’t tell me how. I don’t want to know. Just tell me what you thought such an ungodly thing as bearing a child out of wedlock would accomplish.” She set her hands to her hips. “And why didn’t you tell me about all this?”
“We didn’t want you to worry, Auntie,” Meri said. “Taylor was going to tell you right after we talked to Bea’s father.”
“You should have talked to me before,” she said with a petulant pout and a worried crease of her brow. “What in God’s name were you two thinking?”
“Auntie,” I said, “my father wants a grandchild more than anything in the world. We were going to offer him a chance to have one, on the condition that he leaves us alone.” I rubbed at my stomach and the slight pooch rounding the front of my pajamas. It wasn’t the baby showing yet, just Meri’s potatoes. “That is, we intended him to think that he was leaving me and Taylor alone, which he might have agreed to. But if he knows about Meri and me, he won’t leave us alone, no matter what.”
Auntie sank onto the couch. “Whose silly idea was this?” she asked.
“Taylor’s,” Meri said, rubbing at her temples. “He thought that it would make everybody happy. Bea’s father would get a grandchild for his legacy, Taylor would get to be a part of our lives, you would get the niece or nephew you’ve always wanted, and Bea and I could live our lives together.” She looked over at me miserably. “It might have worked.”
“It would not have worked,” Auntie said sharply. “Lies never work, Meri. You were raised with better sense than that.”
Meri nodded her head slowly and it sank into her hands. “I’m sorry, Auntie,” she said. “It’s just that I love Bea so much. I would agree to anything that would give us a chance at being a family.”
Auntie Bea pressed her hankie to her lips. She looked stricken. My skin prickled into goose bumps, and I shivered at the sudden chill. The butterflies rose from my stomach and began swirling around in my throat.
I think the plan might have worked, at least for a time, but my father wouldn’t care how much Meri loved me. He wouldn’t care how empty either of our lives had been before we found each other. He would just be very, very angry. He would understand that his suspicions about me had been true, and Meri would become a problem that he had to solve by whatever means necessary. I shivered again as my stomach twisted into knots and rose to touch the back of my tongue. I jumped up, both hands covering my mouth, and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom.
• • •
Meri sat on the floor beside me, rubbing her hand in small circles across my back. I was still kneeling with my cheek pressed against the porcelain rim of the commode, a cold sweat still coating my skin. I had nothing left to throw up, but every time I thought of my father and what he might do to Meri, I found myself racked with dry heaves. I started shivering. Meri reached, pulled a towel off the towel rack and draped it across my shoulders. I lifted my head and leaned against her. She held my head to her shoulder, her cheek pressed to my forehead. She felt so warm and safe, it made me want to cry, but my body had nothing left in it.
I heard footsteps just outside the door and raised my eyes. Taylor’s head popped around the corner.
“Ladies,” he said with a tip of his ball cap. He focused on me and frowned. “Jesus, Bea, you look like death warmed over.”
“She’s sick, Taylor,” Meri said sharply.
“I can see that,” he answered. “You need me to run to the store or something? Get you some chicken noodle soup or maybe some ice cream or pickles?”
“Oh, god,” I said, pushing away from Meri and leaning over the commode. My body heaved and spasmed. There was still nothing left, but my stomach kept pretending.
“Shut up, Taylor,” Meri said, holding on to my shoulders.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just trying to help.”
“Why don’t you try being helpful, then?”
“Like how? You’re already patting her back, and she doesn’t have any hair to hold. So what am I supposed to do?”
“Be useful, for a change. Why don’t you go plow the back forty or something?”
“It’s October.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Taylor, just go away,” Meri nearly shouted.
“Easy there, babe,” I heard him say. “Don’t get your knickers all in knot. Auntie asked me to drop everything and come over, and so I’m over. Suppose you tell me why I’m here if you don’t want me to be.”
Meri’s grip on my shoulders tightened and then relaxed. She rubbed at them briskly and that settled me enough so I could lean against her again. She wrapped her arms tight around me.
“I’m sorry, Taylor,” she said, failing to sound like she really meant it. “I’m just a little jumpy.” I felt her chest rise and fall. “I don’t know why Auntie called you to come over. Maybe she wanted you for moral support or something.”
“Why?” he asked. “What’d she burn this time? I mean, besides the phone lines.”
“Nothing. If you want to know exactly what she wanted, you’ll have to wait and ask her.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Where is she?”
Meri put her hand on my head and started stoking my hair. “She ran out to get Bea some Pepto-Bismol. I told her we weren’t having a problem with that end, but you know Auntie Bea. It’s her cure-all for anything that ails you.”
“Right, I remember,” he said with grimace. “So what’s going on here then? I know why Bea’s sick, but why are you so jumpy?”
“My father’s coming,” I whispered.
Taylor lifted his cap and scratched underneath. He settled it on his head again with a little yank on the brim. “Isn’t that a good thing? We did plan on that, you know.”
“It would’ve been a good thing,” Meri said, “if Bea’s father didn’t already know that she and I were living together in an intimate fashion.”
“Oh.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “That’s not such a good thing.”
“No,” I said, my voice sounding raw and raspy, “it’s not a good thing at all.”
“How did that happen?”
I felt Meri shift slightly. “Auntie was talking to strangers at the post office.”
Taylor squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head against the door jam. “We should have anticipated that.”
“Well, we didn’t,” Meri said crossly.
“He’s not going to believe that we’re married,” he said to me.
“No,” I answered, “he’s not.”
“We really could get married.”
“No!” Meri shouted and it made me jump. “That’s not an option.”
Taylor straightened, rubbed his face and stepped into the bathroom. I felt the tensi
on creep into Meri, stiffening her back, tensing her shoulders. He squatted in front of us and peered at me closely. Meri’s arms tightened into almost a squeeze. I couldn’t see her face, but I know she must have been scowling pretty ferociously.
Taylor looked at her and tugged on the bill of his cap. “Meri, my darlin’, you really need to calm yourself down. You’re wound tighter than a cat at a dog show.”
“I am not,” she said through clenched teeth. I could feel the tremor in her arms, and I wondered if Taylor could see it.
Taylor reached out as if to feel my forehead, but Meri slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch her,” she said harshly.
“Why not?” he asked. “You think she’s contagious?”
Meri snorted. “You’d better hope not.”
Taylor reached out again and Meri slapped at him again.
“Stop it. Just leave her alone. She’s already sick enough because of you.”
Taylor scratched at his beard stubble and sat on the bathroom floor. “Meri, Bea here, is carrying my child,” he said, and Meri’s arms squeezed even tighter around me. “I am naturally concerned about her and about the baby. I’m sorry that it disturbs you, but I would like to remind you that this is something we all agreed to do.”
“I know.” Meri’s voice was barely a whisper, but it was heavy and full of regret.
Taylor opened his mouth to say something else, but I held up a hand and stopped him.
“Taylor, I don’t think you understand what she’s afraid of.”
“No, I surely don’t,” he said with a sad shake of his head.
“Meri, let go of me.”
She stiffened.
“Please,” I said softly, “I want to look at you.” Her arms slid open reluctantly. I sat up and turned to face her. “You’re scaring yourself for no good reason, Meri.”
“I don’t want him touching you,” she said, looking at her lap.
As Far As Far Enough Page 12
