What Happens in Texas

by Carolyn Brown

  “Right across the street. I was over there measuring for the tile layers. Was just locking up to leave when I noticed your car. Open the trunk and I’ll have the spare on in no time. You can take it down to the garage tomorrow and they’ll fix it. Might have a nail in it. Nope, looks like someone removed the valve and let the air out on purpose. I hope it’s not neighborhood kids.”

  Anna Ruth did it. Did Trixie ignore it, confront her, or tell Agnes? The latter sounded like a helluva lot more fun.

  “This really is going to cost you dearly,” Jack said as he jacked the car up slightly and loosened the lug nuts.

  “One free breakfast coming right up,” Trixie said.

  “That sounds pretty good, but I had something else in mind.” He backed the lug nuts off the rest of the way and slid the flat tire away.

  “Lunch too? Come on, Jack, this is getting expensive,” Trixie teased.

  “No, ma’am. Even a bigger favor than that.” He put on the spare and replaced the lug nuts.

  “Okay, I’ll help you in the garage all week, and I won’t even start a fight with Marty over the vote she threw in the pot for Anna Ruth. It’s got something to do with Agnes killing Violet, but I can’t figure it out and Marty ain’t talkin’,” Trixie said.

  “I’ll take that, but I want one more thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “Would you come into my house and give me your honest opinion of what color tile I should put in? I’ve never done this kind of thing and I need help. Mamma is pouting because I’m moving out, but hell’s bells, Trixie, I’ve been home ever since Dad died, and we all know it’s time for me to get my own place,” he said.

  “I’d love to. Why aren’t you using carpet?”

  “I hate to vacuum. A broom and a little mopping once a week will take care of tile. Besides, I want a dog, and carpet is a magnet for dog hair.”

  He finished the job, slammed the trunk shut, and together they crossed the street and walked up on the porch. He’d already locked up so he fished a key from his pocket, opened the door, and flipped on the living room light.

  “Just go on through the house and get a feel for the rooms, then come back to the kitchen and look at the samples.”

  Trixie wandered from room to room. There were plenty of windows for light. The walls had been repainted in a light sand color, and the oak woodwork had gotten a fresh coat of varnish. The whole place smelled clean and wonderful.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Something just a little darker than the walls. It won’t show dirt or dog hair, and it’ll blend with the walls and the woodwork. It’s going to be beautiful, Jack.”

  “Tile next week and furniture after that. I’ll fix your flat tires forever if all three of you girls will go to Sherman to pick out the stuff to go in this place,” he said.

  “Oil changes too?” she asked.

  “You drive a hard bargain, Trixie, but I’ll do it if you can talk Cathy and Marty into going with us.”

  She stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal. Next Sunday I’ve got to go see Mamma in the nursing home, and afterward we should have time to look through two or three stores before they close.”

  He shook it. “I’ll go with you to the nursing home. I haven’t seen Janie in six months. I know. Shame on me. She was so good to us kids when we were growing up. I can’t remember a time she yelled at us for tracking mud in the house or messing up the kitchen.”

  Trixie smiled. “She was a lot of fun. I hear you are buying this house so you can ask Cathy to marry you. That right?”

  Jack sputtered and stammered before he finally got a whole word to come out of his mouth. “Hell no! Whatever gave you that idea? You and Marty and Cathy are like sisters to me. I love you all too much to ruin our friendship with marriage.”

  Trixie giggled.

  “What?”

  “Did you know that Beulah was scared you were going to marry Cathy and Violet would be furious that she tossed Ethan out the door for you?”

  Jack chuckled. “Club! It’s worse than trying to understand women.”

  Chapter 18

  Wednesday nights!

  They’d changed.

  Now Cathy went to the Rib Joint and didn’t even come home until Thursday morning. Marty went to class, came right home, and since the cat was out of the bag about her writing, often as not, she took to her room to work on her books. If the stars were aligned right, Agnes stayed across the street and did not get into the steamer trunk for costumes that smelled like mothballs. Darla Jean had midweek Bible study with her growing flock.

  And Trixie did not have sex with Andy. She still hadn’t come clean about having wild Wednesdays in the past, but since the night Agnes showed up with the shotgun, everything had been crazy. There was the thing about the vote, Darla Jean’s new mission, and now Jack was moving into his own house. The time had not been right; when it was, she’d confess just like Cathy had done about reading hot romance.

  “Where is your mind, Trixie?” Jack asked.

  “I was thinking about changes in our lives. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing. I asked for a ratchet and you handed me a Phillips head screwdriver.” Jack chuckled. “Want to talk about it?”

  “It’s all Agnes’s fault.”

  “She caught you with Andy that night, didn’t she?”

  “How did you know?”

  “His unmarked car was sitting in the parking lot when we arrived on the scene. He said later that he’d just pulled up to see what was going on. Didn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

  Trixie’s face burned. “Guess not.”

  “Marty know?”

  Trixie shook her head.

  “Is it still going on?”

  She wiped her hands on a grease rag. “I’m out here on Wednesday nights these days.”

  “You deserve better. You always have.”

  “Thanks, Jack. And here is the ratchet.”

  “It’s the truth, Trixie. You deserve the very best.”

  * * *

  “Well, hello, Miss Andrews,” Lynn Woodson said from behind her desk. “I’m just finishing up here and you can have it. I was trying to get the last of this week’s assignments graded.” She snapped her laptop shut and shoved it into a tote bag with Ethan Prescott for State Representative printed on the side.

  Marty looked down at the tote bag. “You helping with his campaign?”

  “Yes, I am, but I don’t guess you’ll be voting for Ethan?” She picked up the bag and headed toward the door.

  “Probably not. I guess you are?”

  “Of course I am. We are dating, you know.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “We had broken up when he started seeing Catherine. I was heartbroken when he proposed to her, and even though she is your sister, I’m glad it didn’t work out.”

  “Me too,” Marty said.

  Lynn was an outspoken political science professor at the college. Violet Prescott was about to wish she’d never pushed that prenup in Cathy’s face.

  Students began to arrive at the same time Lynn left the room. Marty passed out the next lesson booklet in the study. If they had problems with any part of it, they were to raise their hand and she’d come to their desk. As they started, Marty looked out over the crowd and located Derek. He was a bright young man, and with the GED, he hoped to start college in January.

  When classes ended, she shut her laptop, happy with the first chapter of the book, switched off the lights, and locked the door to her classroom. When she went outside, she found that the temperature had dropped several degrees. It seldom snowed in Cadillac, but there was that kind of feel to the night air. Thank goodness they weren’t still planning a wedding in December. Not unless Lynn and Ethan decided to get married real fast. In which case, Agnes might try to sell them a morning glory wedding cake.

  With Violet in the picture, Marty could easily see Lynn and Ethan having a private ceremony at some chapel in Vegas or else going to Cancun
after the election. No, sir, Lynn would not be buying a cake that looked like it was oozing the bride and groom’s blood.

  The parking lot at the Rib Joint was crowded, but she did find a place out near the road. The noise was close to pollution level and got louder when she was inside. A line dance was going on, and the stomping on the wood floor jarred the walls.

  Cathy was behind the counter, drawing beers and taking money for orders. She looked happier than Marty had ever seen her.

  “Hey!” She waved.

  Marty made her way around the end of the dancers who were slapping their hips and yelling, “Hell yeah!”

  “Got time for a break?” Marty asked.

  John wiped his hands on a towel on his way from kitchen to counter. “You two really are identical except for the hair. I’m John, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Marty.”

  Marty shook hands with him. “Pleasure is all mine, John. Can I steal her for half a minute?”

  “Only if you bring her back. Go out the back door. It’s easier than getting through the crowd.”

  “Is everyone all right?” Cathy wiped sweat from her forehead with the towel Jack laid down.

  “Everyone is fine. Which way?”

  Cathy led the way and Marty followed. The back of the joint was the front yard for John’s trailer. It wasn’t much to look at, but if that’s what put the gleam in Cathy’s eyes lately then it was a great place.

  “What’s going on?” Cathy asked.

  “Remember me saying that I use Lynn Woodson’s room on Wednesday nights?”

  Cathy nodded.

  “She’s dating Ethan. I thought you should know.”

  It took a full minute for the news to sink in and then Cathy started laughing. “Violet has met her match.”

  “It doesn’t mean they’ll get married. They’re just dating.”

  “Think they’d like to buy a red, white, and blue cake?”

  Marty laughed with her. “That was my first thought. But you aren’t ever going to unload that thing. I’m not sure that you can list an ugly wedding cake in the classifieds.”

  “I didn’t love him, Marty. He and Lynn have so much more in common and he deserves to be happy.”

  “You’ve got a good heart, Cathy Andrews.”

  “So do you, Marty Andrews. Now I’ve got to get back to work. Don’t want John to be completely worn out from cooking and waiting the front, too. I’ve got plans for something other than sleeping tonight.” Cathy winked.

  “The good twin goes bad.” Marty hugged Cathy.

  She and Cathy had been born two halves of a whole. Cathy had the kind soul and sweet nature. Marty had the wild streak and spoke her mind loud and clear. Marty grew up protecting her nice other half from bullies and wondering if she’d ever get a backbone. Now that she had, Marty was saddened. Would Cathy not need her anymore? Would their friendship suffer with the new roads they’d taken?

  Chapter 19

  Cathy rang the doorbell and waited.

  Her finger was reaching to hit it again when Clayton opened the door.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly.

  “I would like to see Violet, please.”

  “I’ll see if she is busy.”

  Clayton almost succeeded in shutting the door in her face, but she stuck a sandal-clad foot in it before it shut. “Don’t be rude just because I threw a monkey wrench in your plans. I’m coming inside and I’m talking to Violet.”

  Her courage amazed her. Did sex make all women braver?

  He opened the door and glared at her. “She’s in the dining room.”

  “Thank you.”

  He motioned for her to follow him.

  Cathy knew her way around the house and she’d never stolen anything. Not even an engraved paper liner for coasters. But evidently she wasn’t to be trusted to walk past the credenza and down the hallway without an escort.

  “Catherine is here,” he said and remained by the door.

  Violet’s freezing stare would have intimidated her weeks before. Today it was pitiful and reminded Cathy of those women whose biggest claim to fame was being a high school cheerleader. Those poor souls who still wore their letter jackets to all the home football games thirty years after they’d graduated.

  “Did you come to apologize for your behavior? If you did, you are wasting your time,” Violet said.

  Cathy shook her head. “I came to tell you in person that I’m resigning from the club. Under the circumstances I think it’s the best thing for me to do. And besides, with two jobs, I cannot give it the time that a member should.”

  Violet sat a little straighter and her lips disappeared into a bed of wrinkles. “You aren’t dead and you aren’t moving. You cannot resign. Besides, you have to stay in the club. Your grandmother was a charter member and your mother followed in her footsteps.”

  “I can and I am quitting, Violet.”

  “No one has ever simply resigned from the club and you will not be the first. Die or move. Who will win the blue ribbons for us if you don’t keep up the tradition your grandmother started? Only you know how to grow the hottest peppers in the state. We’ll lose our standing if you don’t enter your jelly and picante. This is not acceptable, Catherine.”

  “I’m not moving. I’m not dying. If I enter my pepper jelly and peppers in the fair, I intend to put the ribbons on the wall at Clawdy’s. It was, after all, my grandmother who started winning the ribbons.” She looked around the room at all the ribbons. Grandma, her mother, and now she had won them all, and yet there they were, in Violet’s possession.

  Violet gasped. “I will not allow you to leave. We are the famous Blue-Ribbon Jalapeño Society, and you are going to keep the tradition, young lady!”

  “Keep me on the rolls if you want to, but I will not be attending any more meetings. Why don’t you put a clause in the charter that says if a person misses three meetings in a year, they are kicked to the curb? That would take care of me and Marty both.”

  “I knew we shouldn’t have allowed you in the club. You are more like your sister than people realize. I will not accept your resignation, but I will be very glad to talk to the club about putting a clause like that in our charter. Someone who deserves a place should be given both of your places.”

  “You can always sponsor Agnes.” Cathy spun around and headed out of the room.

  “Don’t you walk out of that door, Catherine Andrews! I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

  “You didn’t have to, Violet. Good luck with your campaign and I hope Ethan is very happy. Maybe he and Lynn will wind up together yet.”

  “Lynn who?” Violet practically screamed.

  Cathy heard her telling Clayton to find out who in the hell Lynn was as she let herself out. Guilt washed over her for letting the cat out of the bag. While the car warmed up, she dug out her cell phone and called Marty.

  “Got a minute?” Cathy asked.

  “Always. What’s going on?”

  Cathy told her what she’d done. “Do you think I should call Ethan and let him know there’s a storm on the way?”

  “I think you should drive away from there and never look back. He can learn to stand up to his mother. You did it so it stands to reason it is possible,” Marty said.

  “Thank you. Advice taken. Guilt trip over. Going home.”

  “See you later,” Marty said.

  When Cathy got home, she bypassed the garage where Trixie and Jack were busy on the Caddy and went straight to her bedroom. She changed into her overalls, kicked off her shoes, and headed for John’s. Marty had always been the strong one who had Cathy’s back. No one messed with Marty and only with Cathy one time. After Marty finished with them, they didn’t want to cross either twin again.

  Their roles hadn’t changed so much that summer, but the lines weren’t nearly as clear. She could see a softer side to Marty, especially since that vote had been cast for Anna Ruth. Within herself, she could feel a tougher woman emerging since she’
d learned to speak her mind. Would the lines eventually disappear as they grew older? Cathy brushed away a tear with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of dirt in its wake. She never wanted to be far from Marty. It would be like tearing half her heart out of her chest. No matter how faint the lines were, she would always need her sister.

  * * *

  The bed of the truck was full of groceries, diapers, and baby things bought this week with Agnes’s donation to the cause. Darla Jean phoned Lindsey when she was almost to the house and she met her at the truck, Layla slung on one hip and Misty right behind her.

  Darla Jean reached and Layla went right to her. “Give me the baby and you two can unload.”

  “Don’t you be spoiling that child,” Betty yelled as she crossed the yard she shared with the house next door where Lindsey and Misty lived these days. “It’s my grandchild.”

  “Wanna bet?” Darla Jean smiled.

  “Baby can’t have too many grandmas.” Lindsey laughed.

  “But we only got one mamma and that’s you, Darla Jean. Aunt Betty even agrees to that.” Misty carried four bags into the house.

  Her bruises were practically gone. Lindsey had cut her hair and highlighted it that week. That and the lack of fear had put a smile on her face.

  “Well?” Lindsey said.

  Misty grabbed Darla Jean in a fierce hug. “I got a job! I’m so excited, I can’t hardly talk about it. Before long we’ll be on our feet well enough to take care of ourselves. Betty got me a job working from three to ten at night taking care of an elderly lady from the church. She’s in a wheelchair and I get to read to her and get her ready for bed. It’s a lot like taking care of your mamma because she’s got Alzheimer’s too.”

  She and Betty followed the girls into the house where she’d grown up. The floor was cluttered with Layla’s toys Betty brought from the church bank, but other than that they were doing a good job taking care of it.

  “And I can keep Layla in the evenings while Misty works and she’ll be home with the baby in the daytime. She’s been helping Betty down at the church clothes closet and everyone that comes in loves Layla,” Lindsey said.