She shook her head. She couldn’t face this right now. She was already late to Sandy’s big event, so she tossed the photo back into the old basket. She picked up the one she’d finally chosen, of her dad in his best suit, and grabbed his favorite dish, the sweet-potato casserole she and Riley had made. Whoever this Patrick turned out to be, she knew who her father was.
Chapter Five
Carolyn steered her big black Lincoln Town Car through town and headed northeast on the highway, taking a right onto a country road. Bree gazed out the window at the moon—full four or five days ago but now losing its size and brightness.
“New car? It sure rides smoother than my old ’64 Mustang,” she said, “though I’m glad Sarah kept it.” The sun had set more than two hours earlier, and the number of cars and trucks full of trick-or-treaters had dwindled considerably.
“Yep. It’s a valuable antique now. Your folks thought as much of that car as you did. Had a mechanic check it out regularly, kept it in the garage, and one of them drove it at least once a month during all that time you were gone.” Carolyn glanced over at her. “In fact, your mom asked me to drive it after she went to Silverado, but now you can take care of it yourself.”
“Thanks. What else do you secretly do for her?”
Carolyn shrugged. “Oh, this and that. We’ll discuss it later.” She slowed for a curve, then sped up again. “I bought this Lincoln a couple of months ago. Have to have a brand-new one every two years, just like Daddy did.” She kept her foot steady and sure on the gas pedal.
“Do you miss your folks a lot?” Bree felt awkward asking such an obvious question, but today she couldn’t keep her mind off the people in her life she’d lost.
Carolyn took her eyes away from the road for half a second. “Of course. Oh, I got tired of taking care of them, especially near the end.” She sighed. “Everybody does, I imagine.”
“So they both stayed at home until they died?” Bree couldn’t imagine living with her parents as long as Carolyn had.
“Sure did. They tended to me when I was little, so I looked after them.” She slowed down and turned into a long driveway. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You don’t regret it?”
“Not a minute of it. We loved each other. Simple as that.”
Bree gazed out at the waning moon again. “Sometimes I wish my life were that easy.”
“I didn’t say easy. We sure had our ups and downs.” Carolyn shrugged. “I said simple. We all did what we had to and enjoyed ourselves in the process.”
“Well, I envy you. My life has been rather complicated, and I’m not sure how much I’ve enjoyed it.” A thread of uneasiness twined around Bree as she thought of her mother and her new situation. How much longer did she or Bree have to enjoy her life in the simple ways Carolyn described?
Carolyn drove down the dark, silent country road for several minutes, as steady as the phases of the moon and the twinkle of the stars. Bree stared at the tree-pierced horizon they drifted past. What would her life have been like if she’d stayed here, not spent so much time away at school and totally involved in her career?
She tried to visualize herself living at home with her mother but couldn’t picture it. She had enough trouble taking care of herself and had no clue how to tend to an aging parent. She’d discuss the possibility with Sarah but thought she’d do better where she was, with professional help. Just so she had the best.
She looked around as Carolyn turned into a familiar-looking driveway. “Say. Didn’t Sandy Porter used to live in this area? I remember coming out here with Sarah to buy eggs and fresh vegetables from Sandy’s mother. What a strange woman, but she had the best produce in town.”
“You’re right. She was strange, but you’re about to find out what made you think so.” Carolyn laughed.
Bree peered through the windshield at the rounded house in the distance. “This doesn’t look anything like I remember it.”
“That’s because Sandy had her mother’s old house torn down and built herself a dome home on the site.”
“I thought she left here right after she graduated. I don’t ever remember seeing her except as a kid.”
Carolyn pulled up beside a couple of other cars in the driveway. “That’s right. Sandy went out to Oregon and California, then moved back to this area about ten years ago. She’s Linda Morton’s aunt, you know. Linda’s mother’s sister.”
Bree tensed. “So will Linda be here tonight?”
Carolyn shifted her Lincoln into park. “In living color. And you should know something else.”
“What? Is this a group of lesbians, present company excluded?” Bree laughed.
Carolyn killed the engine. “No. This is a coven of witches, and we’re here to celebrate Samhain.”
Bree stared. “Say that again.”
“You heard me. Now pick your jaw up off my new leather upholstery and let’s get ourselves inside.”
*
Linda walked through the door, and Sandy announced, “Here she is, finally.”
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “Two of my grandsons wanted to hang around after they finished trick-or-treating, and I’ve missed so much of their childhood, I didn’t have the heart to rush them away.”
“No problem. We understand, except we’ve eaten almost all the hors d’oeuvres.” Sandy and the other women in the living room nodded.
All except a visitor, who stood next to Carolyn. Why was Bree Principal here? And wearing her old black leather jacket, no less, which stirred unwelcome memories. Around Bree, Linda wanted to be the person she’d become, not the girl she’d been.
Linda hurried over to the punch bowl and dipped out a cup full of the red punch Sandy always fixed for gatherings like this one. As she sipped the cinnamon-flavored drink and studied Bree, she wished she had something a little stronger.
Bree looked a little more relaxed tonight, as if being with someone as down-to-earth as Carolyn had rubbed off on her. Good. She must have had time to rest too.
Linda walked over to her and held out her hand. “Nice to see you again. How’s it going?”
Bree’s handshake felt strong and forceful, like that of a businessman or someone used to dealing with the public. Linda usually hugged the women she knew, especially those in the various groups she belonged to. As word had obviously trickled from mouth to mouth about her new friends in Tyler, some of her acquaintances had stiffened when she touched them. But after a while they’d evidently realized she didn’t intend to make a move on them or their daughters and had greeted her as usual.
Bree responded, “Okay, though it’s still a shock to my system.” Bree glanced at the other women, who stood around chatting and eating deviled eggs, raw vegetables, and other finger food. “Of course, learning that I just crashed a coven celebration here in town is a jolt, but I’ll adjust. In fact, things around here just got a lot more interesting than I ever expected them to.” Her eyes gleamed like gray quartz.
Linda refused to let Bree’s unexpected appearance ruin her night. In fact, her obvious delight with their secret group made Linda feel much more positive toward Bree than she had yesterday.
*
“Okay, everyone,” Sandy announced. “Now that we’re all here, I want to welcome you to our fourth yearly celebration of Samhain. And a special welcome to Bree Principal, our guest. Carolyn invited her, so she must be good people.”
Bree vaguely recognized a few of the women from long ago but noticed several strangers. Who would ever have pegged these women as Wiccans? They ranged in age from their sixties to their early nineties, she assumed, and looked like average grandmothers or society women.
“It’s good to be here,” she said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in town, but judging by this group, it should be a fascinating stay.”
“You’ve got that right.” Sandy spoke up again. “California and Oregon don’t have a thing on us.”
Visions of what might happen tonight almost short-circuit
ed Bree’s imagination.
Would they strip naked later and run wildly through the woods behind Sandy’s house, shouting gibberish at the waning moon as their breasts flopped and their hair flew in the chilly night air?
No. It was too cold, and they were all too old for such an undertaking. They’d come down with the flu, or at least the sniffles.
Perhaps they’d keep their clothes on and merely have a ritual outside, around a roaring fire. Bree foresaw them pulling on long black robes and processing solemnly down a winding path into the dark woods, each carrying a blazing torch aloft. Once they reached their destination, they’d encircle a huge pile of dry firewood and toss their torches into it. Flames would whoosh skyward, smoke billowing toward the heavens, and weird Celtic-sounding music would burst from an unknown source.
In a booming voice, Sandy would lead them in a series of strange incantations, commanding the spirits of the dead to appear and mingle among them. A cloud of mist would rise, and they’d shiver in unison as their dearly departed materialized, greeting them from the Other Side with condolences and blessings.
But wouldn’t that type of smoke burn their eyes and make their clothes stink? And would Sandy’s voice actually boom?
Bree shook her head clear of her musings in time to hear Sandy declare, “It’s late. Let’s get this party started. Food first, then business, I always say.”
Now that sounded like a real East Texan, witch or not, Bree thought.
“Come on.” Carolyn took her hand. “I brought our dishes in while you were getting acquainted, so everything’s ready. I’m hungry. How about you?”
Bree followed Carolyn’s lead. At least she could be certain the food would be delicious.
*
Candlelight bathed the orange-speckled Formica dining table, covered with a variety of casseroles and desserts. “Join hands and form a circle,” Sandy said, and they gathered around the table. Linda stood directly across from Bree and, distracted, barely heard the words.
“We have all brought the fruits of the harvest that our loved ones favored.”
Sandy’s long white hair shone in the flickering candlelight, and the silver streak in Bree’s blazed like lightning.
“As we enter this dark time of the year, tonight we feel the presence of those who have gone before us.”
While Sandy spoke, Linda struggled to ignore Bree and focus on her dead parents, especially her dad.
“Let us commune with them and each other, so we can walk with their wisdom and strength to guide us as we journey through the coming darkness together.”
This was a solemn undertaking, Linda tried to remind herself, not a frivolous social event.
“Now, let’s eat.” Sandy’s final words broke the spell and freed Linda to indulge herself in the sight of Bree, who was actually more beautiful now than in high school. She’d ripened like an exotic piece of fruit.
As Linda heaped her paper plate with fried squash, fruit salad, turnip fritters, scalloped corn, and other dishes the group members had brought, she couldn’t quit glancing at Bree. She’d taken off her black leather jacket, thank goodness, but Linda had trouble dealing with some of the memories it stirred up.
She saw Bree, eighteen and lovely in an androgynous way, sitting at the dinner table with her family. She talked eagerly with her father about cars and complimented her mother’s cooking. She discussed football and baseball with Linda’s two brothers and charmed Ann in an understated way that perhaps only Linda had noticed.
Shaking her head to dislodge the distracting recollections, she overheard Bree say, “I don’t usually cook much, but I did make an apple pie this afternoon to honor my brother.”
Linda didn’t remember Bree’s twin brother Brett, but she knew he’d died in an accident. Ann had been in the same sixth-grade class with both Bree and Brett that year. Back then, Linda had never known anyone who had lost a close family member or any kids who’d died, so that memory had stuck.
As Linda watched Bree circulate around the group of women here tonight, she let go of her irritation from their encounter yesterday at Silverado. She hadn’t been Bree’s friend; Ann had. Of course Bree was interested in her. And Bree couldn’t read minds. How could she know Linda’s professional status?
Don’t hold on to something so trivial, she told herself. Let go of your bruised pride and plunge yourself into the new phase of the year we’re entering, like Sandy just reminded us.
*
Bree chatted automatically with a woman she’d just introduced herself to, yet eyed Linda, who seemed deep in thought. Suddenly the image of a solemn-eyed, scrawny teenager flashed through her mind. Linda had rarely said much during Bree’s frequent overnight visits with Ann their senior year in high school, and Bree had never tried to get to know her.
Not that she’d had much of a chance. Ann had always demanded everyone’s attention, with her glossy long blond hair and porcelain complexion. The boys flocked around her, competing for her time. Bree had felt privileged to be the one to share her bed practically every Friday night after they came home from a party or a double date.
Bree remembered the Whites’ typical three-bedroom home well. She and Ann had slept together in the double bed Ann usually shared with Linda. Occasionally Bree had felt bad about making Linda sleep on the living-room sofa, but not bad enough to stop coming over every Friday. After all, Linda had the bed to herself practically every Saturday night, which Ann usually spent with Bree.
Curling up beside Ann in that small bed had been the highlight of each week that year—listening to her talk about what they’d done that evening, then waking up with her arms wrapped around Ann. She could almost feel Ann’s warm, pliant body, so soft and perfumed. Sometimes Bree hadn’t slept at all. She hadn’t wanted to miss a second of being that close to Ann, so she’d simply lain there quietly listening to Ann breathe.
“Ann said to tell you hello.”
Caught up in her memories, Bree hadn’t realized that Linda was standing beside her now, instead of the woman Bree had been chatting with.
“Ann?” A surge of longing engulfed Bree. She’d spent so many years trying to forget her high-school flame. Strange how one simple sentence could rekindle all the longing she thought had burned up and left only ashes.
“Yes. You asked about her yesterday, so when I saw her this afternoon, I mentioned that I’d seen you.”
“And what did she say?”
“Not as much as I thought she would. She just said to tell you hello. Is that some kind of code word?”
Was Linda kidding? Bree couldn’t be sure. “Code? Of course not. I’m surprised Ann bothered to say anything to me, even after so long. We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms.”
Linda gazed at her with a question in her eyes. “You really are out of touch, aren’t you? You actually never heard about those times Ann tried to commit suicide?”
“Suicide? No. Mother rarely gossips, but surely she’d have told me something like that.”
Linda took a bite of squash from the plate she stood juggling. “We tried to keep it quiet. And your mother’s not known as the most sociable person in town. But surely Carolyn would have let you know.”
Bree dropped into a nearby chair, put her plate on a small table beside her, and picked up her glass of cider from it. “Carolyn and I tried not to talk about home during her yearly visit. Besides, I’m not sure she knew how close Ann and I once were. She lived in Austin or Houston when Ann and I spent so much time together.” She shoved her hand through her silver bangs. “Why would Ann try to kill herself? She had everything she could possibly want, didn’t she?”
“Everything but you,” Linda murmured, though in the middle of so many conversations, Bree wondered if she’d heard her right.
“She didn’t want me. She wanted a man—told me a million times she’d never be complete without the right one. And apparently she proved her point, several times.”
Linda shrugged. “Obviously she hasn’t found the
right one yet. But you have to give her credit for trying. Maybe this one will work out.”
Bree sat there motionless, then picked up her plate again and tried the casserole she’d seen Linda bring in. “Umm, what great sweet potatoes. I recall seeing you work beside your mother in the kitchen, but she practically had to threaten to ground Ann to get her to even set the table.”
Linda’s smile seemed bittersweet. “Yes. I’m surprised you remembered. You, and almost everyone else, always treated Ann like a member of royalty. I’m not surprised she expected everyone to regard her like that for the rest of her life. It must have shocked her when she woke up with a husband or three who demanded that she wait on him, instead of vice versa.”
“Poor Ann,” Bree said.
“Yes. Most of the time I feel sorry for her too. Now that you’re finally back, maybe you can help her get her shit together.”
Linda turned and walked away, and Bree felt pulled. Should she follow her or sit here and indulge herself in memories of Ann?
Chapter Six
Linda threw her dirty plate into a large black plastic bag in Sandy’s kitchen. Then she rinsed her hands and gazed out the window above the kitchen sink at the three-quarters-full moon.
Like the moon, she’d lived more than half of her life too, and what had she done with it? Had a crush on Bree, become a nurse, married and divorced her husband, tended to three children and four grandchildren, and discovered she was a lesbian who still had a crush on Bree after all these years. Why had she turned the conversation to Ann instead of talking to Bree like one adult to another?
“Oh, there you are,” Sandy said from behind her. “Everyone’s finishing dessert. Come on. We’re about to share our pictures.”
Autumn Spring Page 4
