Jerking the shift lever into reverse, she backed out into the street and then took off with the windows open. Willie Lee and Munro stuck their heads out their window, their faces to the wind for the drive to Parker’s house. Willie Lee began singing “Happy Birthday,” and Corrine and Marilee joined in. They were singing “Happy Birthday” when they rolled down Parker’s long driveway.
She was a bit startled to note the neglected landscape. The house could be deserted, in fact, with no other attention than mowed grass. She thought it odd that she had never noticed the lack of care before. Surely it had not been that way when she had last visited, which had been all the way last fall.
Parker came out the front door, and they all tumbled out of the car, yelling, “Happy Birthday!”
His smile was like that of a delighted boy. It made Marilee’s heart ache and fill at the same time. “Here…you can take this helium bottle and this box,” she said, pressing him into service to help empty the Cherokee of all the party paraphernalia.
“Wow!” Parker said when he saw his cake.
Marilee, very pleased, shifted the cake out of its box and onto the middle of the breakfast bar. She stuck in the candles, while Parker snitched a fingerful of icing and the children laughed as Marilee shoved him away.
Marilee saw immediately that she had not anticipated correctly the work necessary to have the house in order for a party. She was a little shocked at Parker’s house, again pointing up the fact that she had not been there in some time.
While Parker was generally clean, he exhibited no thought to the finer points of home decoration. The house looked as if it was a stopping off place and nothing more, and his every-other-week housekeeper was obviously less than dedicated. This was the week that the housekeeper did not come.
The job of readying the house for the party was an endeavor that properly required days, but Marilee dove right in to accomplish the task in two hours. Like a veteran general, she gave everyone their assignments, setting Parker to work filling balloons with helium and Willie Lee to helping him. She gave Corrine the duty of arranging the patio furniture, table and dishes, and directing the males on how to hang the ribbons and balloons.
Tying an apron over her sunsuit, an addition that made her feel like a pinup girl, and armed with a basket for collecting strewn items, a bag for trash, several sizes of dusters and the vacuum cleaner, Marilee swept through the house in the manner of a guerrilla single-handedly reclaiming lost territory.
She first attacked the kitchen, the room that would receive the most use during the party, and had it in acceptable order, if still lacking in identity, in forty-five minutes, with numerous detours to answer questions from the crew on the patio. In a similar manner of pointed concentration, she proceeded on into the dining room, through the living room, and into the rear of the house and the two bathrooms and master bedroom. Pacing herself, she broke into only a light sweat; she had turned the air-conditioning thermostat down to an extravagant level.
All the while she cleaned, Marilee made mental notes of necessary decorating changes for when she and the children moved in. The carpet throughout would have to be changed from a deep blue that didn’t go with anything. The bathrooms required new wallpaper and total decoration; the walls were currently some off-orange, and there was not one stick of pleasantry in them. She had never noticed that Parker had no taste in home decor colors. Marilee pictured towels of complementary colors, rather than selected at random, as Parker’s appeared to be. She wanted linens in colors to match the towels, too, and she preferred the muted, earthy colors of sea green, lilac and blue that she employed in her own home. This would mean brand-new sheets for Parker’s king-size bed, so enormous in comparison to her own standard double. Spreading up the covers, she wondered how Parker slept on such sheets—bright yellow and orange and green stripes. Surely such colors would tend to keep one awake.
Pausing, she stared at the bed, and then she sat down on it, testing the mattress by bouncing lightly. She quite liked it, although she would prefer to move it to the opposite wall, where there would be more room and the bathroom door would not keep hitting the left nightstand.
Parker liked mints and threw the wrappers on the nightstand, along with various brochures about animal medications, pairs of socks, a spare key, his pocket knife and loose coins. Marilee opened the drawer to brush the stray items inside, all except the socks. She snatched them up to toss into the basket of dirty clothes.
Something dropped to the floor.
An earring.
Picking it up from the carpet, she looked at it closely—a dangling earring of silver and turquoise and black onyx. And there, on the night stand, lay a matching earring, underneath where the socks had been.
Placing them in her palm, she gazed at them, then looked at the pillow right beside the nightstand, and then back again to the earrings, while all manner of thoughts twirled in her head, all of them on the same theme: what woman had been in this room?
“Marilee?” Parker poked his head in the doorway.
She jumped. “Yes?”
“Are you ‘bout ready? Rick and Vickie just got here…. Rick’s firin’ up the grill.” Parker looked happy and expectant, and very handsome.
“I’m coming.”
She slipped the earrings into the pocket of her sunsuit, picked up her cleaning supplies and hurried to the kitchen. Parker was there getting cold drinks. She told him she wanted a Coca-Cola, and while he got it for her, she put her wrists beneath the faucet of cold water.
Of course, there could be any number of reasons why the earrings that were not hers were on Parker’s nightstand.
He could have found them somewhere. This was the most reasonable explanation. Maybe the owner of one of his patients had left them at the clinic. This line of thought presented the image of some lunatic woman who took off expensive handmade earrings, maybe bored while awaiting her appointment, and just threw them on the floor or over the counter. Maybe she was hysterical because her pet died, so she ripped them out of her ears and tossed them down, and Parker had not yet discovered to which owner of which deceased pet the earrings belonged. He’d had a few deaths recently.
Marilee realized her imagination was running wild. There were, in fact, a lot of indecipherable thoughts running around in her head, which she kept shoving aside and which kept popping back at her, so much so that she found herself going to the kitchen to get a basting brush for Rick and ended up staring into the refrigerator, picking a grape tomato out of the big bowl of salad and eating it. What she really wanted was a piece of chocolate. The birthday cake caught her eye, and she had to resist the urge to cut herself a piece; it was rich chocolate underneath the vanilla icing.
Why did she not simply ask Parker where the earrings came from?
That was out, with Parker standing at the grill with Rick and the doorbell giving out a chime.
Ted and Wendy Oakes came without their three children. “I need a break,” Wendy said, putting her hand on her round belly. “I’m trying to get all the rest I can before this one gets here. Here’s Parker’s present. It’s a…oh, my gosh, is that an engagement ring on your finger?”
Marilee told her it was and ushered her out to the patio, where the big bowl of chips and guacamole caught the very pregnant woman’s attention.
Ray Horn, who was recently divorced, brought his new girlfriend, Heather. Everyone was polite and didn’t stare at her. She was a dark-haired, dark-eyed knockout, and looked at least fifteen years younger than Ray. She had brought her son, Bobby, a very pretty, shy dark-haired boy who was determined to remain on her lap. The two really were a lovely sight.
The Macombs, Jerry and Mary Lynn and their daughter Sarah, drove up in their minivan, followed immediately by Charlene, Mason, Jojo and Leanne Overton in a brand-new Suburban. The people came pouring out of the vehicles, laughing and talking and bearing gifts and covered dishes. Charlene had cut her hair again; she looked stunning, walking beside Mason. The two’s happiness
was breathtaking. Mary Lynn, always in a hurry, was urging Jerry, who probably couldn’t hurry from a fire, to get up to the house.
Marilee led the way to the patio, directed where to set dishes and offered cold drinks.
Charlene grabbed Marilee’s hand and took a look at the engagement ring. “My heaven, that is a gorgeous ring. Congratulations, Parker!” she called across the patio to Parker, who apparently had taken up residence next to the grill with Rick. Parker, giving a shy grin, raised his beer in acknowledgment.
The women oohed and aahed appropriately at the engagement ring, each taking hold of Marilee’s hand. She glanced over to observe Parker.
“Oh, you two haven’t met,” Charlene was saying. “This is my cousin, Leanne…Leanne, this is Marilee, Parker’s fiancée and the official hostess of the annual Parker Day barbecue.”
Leanne was pretty. “Hello.” She stuck out her hand.
“Hello.”
Marilee shook the woman’s hand. Good blond frosting job, polished silver earrings, the makeup of a fashion model and bright smile…and a necklace crafted of fine silver and turquoise and black onyx.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Her gaze stuck on the necklace.
“You, too. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh?” The earrings burned a hole in her pocket. She refrained from whipping them out and asking the woman to lean over so she could compare.
Charlene, dipping a large corn chip into a red mixture, said, “Leanne brought her simply-to-die-for salsa. You have to try this, Marilee.”
Marilee complied. “Oh, yes, it is good, really good.”
“I want some,” said Wendy, who came armed with a chip in each hand. “Vitamins A and C and almost no fat. I need to eat a lot of it.”
“Go for it,” Marilee said, then turned away. “I’ll get more ice.”
She took up the ice bucket that was still half-filled and retreated to the kitchen, where she stood for a moment gazing at nothing. Then she went to the window that looked out at the patio of people—Heather was whispering something in her son’s ear. The two girls, Jojo and Sarah had commandeered the glider and were swinging. Corrine sat alone, watching them. Was Willie Lee still okay? Yes, there he was beneath the rose of Sharon, digging for worms.
There was Leanne, her profile turned toward Marilee. Marilee realized the younger woman had her blond hair pinned up in almost the same way Marilee did. Parker was over in the male knot beside the grill, as if this were their domain. She watched him tilt his head in the manner he used when listening, this time to Ted, who seemed to be telling a joke.
Marilee fished the earrings out of her pocket and gazed at them.
Returning them to her pocket, she then filled the ice bucket and returned to the patio to smile and serve as the gracious hostess.
Things might not be as she thought. She should not jump to conclusions.
The moment came, totally unplanned.
Marilee was loading the dishwasher with the first load, Parker was filling the ice bucket from the freezer, and Leanne appeared, bearing an armload of dirty dishes.
“Here’s the last of them, I think.” Leanne set the dishes on the counter and wiped her hands on her shorts.
“Thank you.”
There they were, just the three of them.
“Oh, Leanne…I think I have something that belongs to you.” Marilee reached into her pocket.
Leanne, who had already turned to leave, paused and cast Marilee a curious look.
Marilee held out the earrings on her palm.
“Oh.” Leanne said. Her face lit with recognition, and her hand reached out, then stopped in midair, as her eyes cut to Parker.
Parker, who had turned to look, averted his eyes.
“I found them on Parker’s bedside table. I believe they match your necklace, Leanne.”
She knew the truth of it, the same as if it had been stated aloud, although no one said a thing.
Leanne’s pale eyes studied Marilee, and Parker looked at the floor. She wondered if she had expected him to say anything. Surely she knew him better than to expect him to take his part.
Laying the earrings on the counter, she stepped past Leanne and went out to the patio to gather the tablecloth off the table that Ted and Ray were moving, in order to have room to dance.
Marilee and Parker danced and mingled and gave no indication there was a problem between them, other than that they did not say a direct word to each other, a fact no one seemed to notice. Leanne kept to herself, but no one seemed to notice that, either. A good time was had by all.
Afterward, after everyone had left, traipsing out to their respective vehicles and going away down the gravel drive in a cloud of dust rising in the evening heat, Marilee gave Parker back his ring.
He said, “It didn’t mean anything, Marilee…it just happened, and you and I weren’t engaged then. You wouldn’t even sleep with me. Leanne doesn’t mean anything to me. Don’t take it like this.”
She said, “It isn’t because of you and Leanne. I understand…I know it wasn’t anything. It is just that I suddenly realize we are not suited. I apologize that I just now see this. I should have seen it from the beginning. We are great as friends, but not as mates. We’ll kill each other in six months, if we live that close. I can’t stand it that you put up with mismatched colors.”
He was staring at her, possibly, she thought, because she had never dared speak so directly to him. She had never dared to speak so directly to herself.
Gathering her purse and the last bag of her stuff to take home, she headed for the door. He followed close behind her.
“Marilee, let’s talk about this.”
She was running away, she realized, but did not stop. “Let’s talk later, when we’ve thought this all out,” she tossed over her shoulder. That would have to do.
She strode out the door and down the walk to the Cherokee, where Corrine, given the keys, had the engine and air-conditioning running. She got behind the wheel, took a last look at Parker, standing there at his front door, and then turned the car and drove away.
Great emotion welled up in her. It was a great epiphany that seemed to ring out from above and wash all over her.
The incident had given her an out, she realized, experiencing relief. This was followed closely by seeping guilt, because she had basically led Parker on. She had led herself on. She had allowed the fear of loneliness, the desire for physical and financial ease, as well as desire for her mother’s approval, plus who knew what-all other motives, to make a fantasy out of a relationship that could be only what it was: friendship. Nothing more.
She had been trying to make herself fit where she was not going to fit, and further, she had been trying to make Parker fit into her image of what she wanted.
She caught sight of his neglected yard in her rearview mirror.
In the nick of time, she thought. In the nick of time.
It was dusk. Marilee walked with Aunt Vella in her aunt’s rose garden, where lights stuck in the ground emitted a soft glow. The children chased the first fireflies of the season across the lawn.
“I’m so ashamed,” Marilee told her aunt. “I was making my relationship with Parker into something it just couldn’t ever be. I was trying to make him how I wanted him to be.” She shook her head. “I just saw myself getting older, and I didn’t want to be alone, I guess.”
“Ah, honey, I know.” Aunt Vella put her arm around Marilee and squeezed her tight. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. You had to go through this experience to learn…. That’s what these things are for. We learn, and we press on ahead, without looking back.
“And as for being alone, well, we all are really, for all of our days on this earth. We are all in this alone together.”
Moths were batting around streetlights when Marilee loaded the children and Munro into the Cherokee and headed down the street and around the corner to home.
The Porter house—Holloway house—was dark, the portico where Tate
parked empty. He had his dinner with the mayor, she remembered.
And then she was turning into her own driveway. Home. Her porch light shone warmly. She unlocked the door and thought that she could never again enter her house and not be glad to be home. It might be small, but it was so very pleasant, and all the colors matched.
The Valentine Voice
Sunday, May 20
Today’s Highlights:
—More people spending their money at home. City sales tax revenue up by 3 percent. Debate as to how to spend money. Story on page 1.
—Tuesday election for city council seat vote. Overview of two candidates: Mayhall versus Tinsley. Story page 1.
—Sinkhole on First Street causes dilemma for City Works Department. Story page 4.
—Majority of Valentine citizens want easier purchase of caskets, but not at discount department stores. Your views on page 3.
Twenty-One
Filling in the Holes
Tate waited until nine o’clock to telephone Charlotte. He was afraid he would either catch her too early and wake her up, or miss her if she went to church. He felt relief when she answered on the second ring, her voice as competent as ever.
“No, it isn’t too early. I do sleep in on Sunday mornings, don’t get up until seven.”
Tate could imagine. “I’m going out of town,” he told her. “Down to Houston to see some folks, and then on to Galveston to visit my mother. I’ll be back Friday or Saturday at the latest. I finished up my editorials for the next two editions, plus a couple extra pieces, and left them on my desk. I’ll be in touch by phone and e-mail. Oh, and tell Marilee not to worry about feeding the cat. I’m takin’ him with me.”
There wasn’t much to that, he thought, as he hung up and finished packing.
He threw his two bags in the back seat of the BMW, with its top down. Then he got Bubba and put him in a cat carrier he had found in the laundry room, and put the carrier in the front seat.
Cold Tea on a Hot Day Page 27
