Lee took his time answering. “Maybe it’s a pride thing, I don’t know. Can you blame me for wanting to show her that the Parkers aren’t all bad? But she hates my guts. I doubt another year would make a difference.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Diane murmured.
“No.”
“I think you’re full of it,” she retorted.
Lee sat silent, while Manny snickered at his wife’s chutzpah.
Then Lee reached across to ruffle Diane’s hair. “Would you feel better if I tell you Jim Hinley called earlier and gave us the go-ahead for an hour-long special—the one I pitched to him last week?”
Diane squeaked excitedly and jumped up to kiss both Manny and Lee. “I know you said something about a special, but I never expected—”
“Still think it’s a bad idea?” Lee asked, teasing. “He wants us to set up in halves, so it can fit into our normal half-hour slot for reruns and syndication.”
“You’re a genius!” Diane exclaimed.
“How do you think our hosts are going to feel about having us hang around for an extra week?” Manny asked.
“It’s more coverage for the town,” Lee said.
“What about our living arrangements?”
“You talk to Bette, Lee,” Diane urged. “She won’t say no to you.”
Lee sat back smiling. Everything about this shoot seemed to have a special luck going for it. They’d been playing around with the idea of a special for a year or more but had never found the proper vehicle. Now here it was, dropped in their laps. Both the opportunity and the approval. So why did he have this niggling feeling of unease? As if everything wasn’t as hunky-dory as it seemed?
His gaze moved across to the bar, to the spot where Karen Latham had stood twice that morning using the telephone, and he suddenly realized she made him uneasy. But why...?
KAREN FINALLY MANAGED to clear a path to the antique shop’s front door. She’d yet to go over everything she’d moved out of the way, but it was a psychological boost to step out onto the plank sidewalk and look around. The feat also helped with general working conditions by allowing an exchange of air, especially when she left the back door open, as well.
She’d worked steadily all morning and was just about to take a lunch break when Juanita stepped timidly inside.
“I saw the front door open,” the pretty, dark-haired young woman said softly, “so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I... I can leave if you’re too busy,” she offered quickly.
Karen straightened, stretching her spine. “I was just planning a break.”
Juanita’s dark eyes were large as she looked around. “Diego told me your aunt had many things, but I never thought... He moved them for her, you understand. He never came here alone. He wouldn’t!”
“Bette told me he and Benny helped Aunt Augusta.”
“Yes, yes...that is right.” She continued to look around, uncomfortable yet fascinated.
To help put her at ease, Karen asked, “Where’s little Jesse?”
“At home with my mother. He’s taking a nap.”
“Would you like to sit down?” Karen offered. “Like Bette also said, I have plenty of chairs.”
Juanita shook her head.
Karen stretched her back again. It felt good not to be hunched over boxes and furniture. She glanced at the younger woman, wondering what had brought her here. To further ease the way she kidded lightly, “I still find it hard to think of you with a child of your own. I see you as a little girl. Little Juanita.”
A wisp of a smile touched Juanita’s lips, then quickly disappeared.
Karen frowned. Maybe she needed a more direct approach. “Is something wrong? Is that why you’re here?”
Juanita looked down at the floor, then out the door, before nodding.
“What is it?” Karen asked.
Her gaze came back, anxious. “My mother—my mother and I are wondering, are you siding with Pete about the movie people? He says you are. That you’re going to stop everything. That the town won’t change, and no people will come!” She grew more agitated as she continued to talk. “That’s not good. Not good at all. We need these people to come. My mother is going to cook at the hotel. I am going to clean. And Diego and I are going to run one of John’s gift shops. We need them to come! We--”
“Juanita, wait! I can’t stop the movie people. I’ve already told Pete that. As for everything else—”
“Pete says you’ll stop the TV people, too!”
“How can I do that when it’s what all of you want?”
“You’ll find a way, he says!” she cried.
Karen took a fresh tissue from her pocket and handed it to the younger woman, who dabbed at her cheeks. “Don’t let what Pete says frighten you, Juanita,” she urged. “Either you or your mother. He’s happy for his life to stay the same, but he’s not thinking of the rest of you.”
Juanita sniffed. “We don’t need a lot of money. Just enough for Diego—We want the money so Diego can—”
She moved her fingers near her mouth and Karen understood. They wanted the extra income to repair Diego’s mouth—to replace his missing teeth.
“My Diego,” Juanita said simply, “is very proud.”
Karen felt both compassion for them and irritation with Pete. The people of this town had very little, and even though they seemed content here, most of them were merely subsisting. Did each of them have some secret need that they hoped the rebirth of Twilight would help fulfill? “Tell Diego—tell your mother—I have more than enough to keep me busy right here. I’m not going to try to stop anything.”
A small smile of relief touched Juanita’s lips. She reached for Karen’s hand, held it a second, then said she had to be on her way.
Karen walked with her to the front door, then watched as she headed for the end of town to the trailers set on a plot of land opposite the hotel. One trailer—Carmelita’s—had always been there. The second must now belong to Juanita and her family.
Construction noises continued from inside the hotel, which made Karen think of Lee Parker and John’s invitation for him to come and watch them start working... which, in turn, made her shake her head and determinedly think of Pete.
Beneath her irritation with him she was worried. He seemed intent on fighting a battle he couldn’t win. The old saw about not being able to stand in the way of progress well and truly fit what was happening here. If the people of Twilight wanted change, she didn’t see how he could stop them. She had to have an honest and open talk with Pete, try to get him to see reason. She only hoped she could do a better job with him than she had with Mr. Griffin.
When she’d called Mr. Griffin earlier, he hadn’t been pleased to hear that she wouldn’t be back at work for several weeks. He’d grumbled and fussed, yet in the end, after she’d told him to go ahead and fill her position with someone else, he’d backed off, assuring her that her job would be held indefinitely. Even when she told him she didn’t expect that, he’d insisted.
Rachel had laughed when she’d told her. “You probably put the fear of God into him that you weren’t ever coming back.” Then, after a pause, she’d said, “Or is that the truth...and you’re not?”
“I almost came back this morning, actually,” Karen had said wryly.
“You did?”
Still unsettled by Lee Parker’s audacious wink, Karen had gone on to say more than she’d meant to. “There’s been a slight...crimp in my plans.”
“Beyond the extra three weeks?”
“Someone I used to know showed up in town again.”
She could feel her friend’s quickening interest.
“Who?”
Karen hadn’t told Rachel about the aborted wedding. She’d kept that to herself. “Someone I’d rather not see,” she said tightly.
“Ooh, sounds interesting. Does Martin know?”
“No. And there’s no reason he should.”
“You’re not going to tell him?”
“No
, and neither are you. This man’s an—an outlaw! You wouldn’t like him, either.”
“I love outlaws, remember? My ex-husband—”
Karen had interrupted Rachel at that point, angry with herself for even mentioning him. She reminded her friend to water her plants and clear out the refrigerator for her own use if she wanted, then told her she’d call again when she knew more.
Her contact with Martin had been even briefer. In fact, she’d left a message on his answering machine, telling him of the unexpected extension of her stay and that she would get in touch again sometime next week.
After hanging up, she was amazed at how relieved she’d felt at having avoided talking to him personally. A feeling that had startled her with its intensity. And still did.
Karen turned back into the shop to resume her cataloging, but after several failed attempts, she dropped all pretense of work to examine her unsettled feelings.
What was wrong between her and Martin? He was a good man, a nice man, a patient man. He cared deeply for her, swore he loved her. But was that good enough to base an entire lifetime together on, when she—
When she only liked him back?
A SHORT TIME LATER Karen had another visitor. In contrast to Juanita, this person was far from reticent. Mary O’Conner strode in through the front door and announced in her booming way that she wanted a word with Karen.
Almost before Karen could draw breath, Mary was charging, “What’s this I hear about you interfering with Twilight’s last chance to be something better? It’s not right, you know, for you to show up after so much time away and try to tell the people who’ve been here day in and day out how to live their lives I I don’t care if you are Augusta’s niece. That doesn’t give you any special privileges!”
Karen blinked at the woman’s zeal. Mary had always been forceful, but in this instance she was fierce.
“Well?” Mary demanded impatiently. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Karen got to her feet from her hands and knees, where she’d been examining the side panels of a writing table. Like so many of the other pieces of furniture, it would require further study. To gain a little time to think, she dusted her hands. Then she said evenly, “I think you need to check your facts, Mary. I’m not trying to do anything of the kind.”
“Pete says you are!”
“And you automatically believe everything Pete says?”
Mary shifted her stance but maintained, “At times I do, yes.”
Karen grinned slowly. “Then that means you believe his stories.”
“No one believes Pete’s stories!”
“I know. And that’s exactly what this is. I’m not going to try to change what’s happening in Twilight. Juanita was here just a little while ago asking that very same question. I told her what I’m telling you—I’m not.”
“Well, Pete’s positive you are.”
“Pete’s wrong. I’m sad things are going to be different. I’d like to see the town stay as it is. But that’s like trying to make a cat stay a kitten or a dog a puppy. If you feed it, it’ll grow. If someone—say, the movie people—shines a spotlight on Twilight, people are going to want to come see it. It’s just human nature.”
Mary’s fierce expression dissolved, and to Karen’s surprise, she enveloped her in a huge hug. “I can’t tell you how happy this makes me!” Mary proclaimed. “And I can’t say how much I hope you’re right. It’d be a crying shame after all the work everyone’s put into this for it not to come off. We’re expecting a shipment of merchandise that John’s ordered any day now. T-shirts and cups and all kinds of knickknacks with Twilight’s name on ‘em. Things tourists like, you know? We wanted to get ’em in early so we could sell some to the workers the studio’s sending. They’ll be a captive audience, so to speak,” she added, grinning.
“Everyone’s so committed to this,” Karen murmured.
“Your aunt Augusta woulda been too. She‘da understood the difference it’s going to make in everyone’s lives. You know what Hank wants? A pickup truck. One of those fancy ones with big wheels and a rack of lights on top. He’s dreamed of owning one since his rodeo days. Says he’s never had the wherewithal for a new truck before. All his have started out with at least a hundred thousand miles on ’em—new to him but not other people. And Pepper... what Pepper wants is this living room set she’s been swooning over for years. One that’ll look perfect in their trailer—remember, it’s a double wide, so there’s lots of room.”
Karen was beginning to understand even more. She studied Mary, who, when she let herself relax, was nowhere near as overwhelming a personality.
“What do you want, Mary?” she asked. “There must be something.”
Mary shot her a keen glance that again questioned her sincerity, before saying gruffly, “I want what I always want—what’s best for Benny. I’m not getting any younger, Karen. One day soon...” She paused, then said, “I just turned sixty-six. I know that’s not considered hugely old in this day and age, but I also know I’m not going to be around forever. I want enough money outta this for Benny to be looked after proper when I’m gone. For him not to be put into some kind of state home. I want him to be happy and carefree all the time he has left, until the good Lord decides to call him to His bosom, too. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you?”
Karen murmured through a tight throat, “No, I don’t think that at all.”
Resuming her tough exterior, Mary demanded, “So I can tell the others you aren’t going to try to stop us?”
“You can tell them that straight from me,” Karen confirmed.
“Good,” Mary said, and, satisfied, took herself off in her usual assertive manner.
CHAPTER SEVEN
OLD PETE’S THE PERSON you really need to talk to,” Bette said as she, Lee and Diane sat in her living room the next morning after a leisurely breakfast. John was already at the hotel awaiting delivery of his building materials and Manny had gone off to scout locations. ”He knows more about Twilight’s history than the rest of us put together. He’s been here forever.”
“That’s what someone else told me, too,” Diane said, flipping through her notebook. “Rhonda... Rhonda Peterson. But she said he probably wouldn’t talk to us.”
Bette agreed. “It’s highly doubtful.”
Lee twisted to set his empty coffee mug on the end table. “Who’s Old Pete?” he asked.
“Have you seen a white-haired old man around? Could be anywhere from seventy to ninety, kinda scruffy, usually has a black dog with him?”
Lee placed him instantly, especially remembering the old man’s in-your-face gesture. “Yes, we did. You saw him, too, Diane, on the way to the cemetery. John said he was—what was the word?—addled.”
Bette grunted. “He’s not addled. He’s stubborn.
Pete doesn’t want things in town to change.”
“Why not?” Diane asked.
“Well, when you’re a desert rat you like to be on your own.”
“But he lives in town,” Lee said.
“He has a place here. He spends most of his life out there.” She indicated the vast arid land surrounding them. “At least, he used to. He’s been slowing down over the past couple of years. This summer he’s hardly gone out at all.”
“Could he tell us anything about Nate Barlow?” Diane questioned. “I mean, if he’s nearly ninety...”
“He probably could if he wanted. Like I said, he’s stubborn.”
“What about you?” Lee asked, smiling at his hostess. “We’ve heard you aren’t particularly enamored of the changes, either.”
Bette grew flustered. “Well, yes...that’s true. But that—that was before I got to know you... all of you. I guess you could say I’m more of a middle-of-the-roader. Karen is, too.”
“Karen?” Lee encouraged, despite the quick look he knew it would draw from Diane. He hadn’t slept very well last night due to thoughts of her. Wondering why, other than being extremely nice to look at,
she stayed in his mind so persistently. Maybe if he could make her understand that his brother wasn’t a good representative of what the Parkers stood for, what they—
“She probably wouldn’t like me telling you this,” Bette said. “She wouldn’t like me telling you anything, but she’d be the person to go through if you want to talk to Pete. She’s the only one he’ll come close to listening to.”
Lee said dryly, “Too bad her idea of a good time is to see me staked naked on a fire-ant hill.”
Bette frowned. “You know, I just can’t understand about that. I know what your brother did and all, but—”
“Manny says it’s transference,” Diane contributed.
Lee looked at her from under his brow and drew a giggle. She, like Manny, knew he had little patience with psychobabble.
“Would you like me to bring it up with her?” Bette offered. “I could kind of ease into it.”
Lee shook his head. “No, let us see what we can come up with on our own first. You’re driving to the county seat a little later, aren’t you, Diane? Into Davisville?”
When Diane nodded, Bette asked curiously, “What for?”
“I always try to gather as much archival information as I can about the area we’re studying and I prefer to get it from local sources,” Diane said. “Libraries, courthouses, newspapers...not to mention private collections. Some amazing information can turn up. Great old photographs, and sometimes something completely unexpected. Things we’d never learn without some deep digging.”
“My goodness,” Bette said, “I didn’t realize putting on a television show was so much work!”
Diane laughed. “It’s not so bad. I enjoy it. We all do.”
“Still,” Bette murmured. Then she brightened, “I suppose since you’ll be staying longer in Twilight and doing an hour special, you’ll have more time for old photographs. Did you know I have one? It’s hanging on the wall in our bedroom. Been there from before John and I bought the place. Probably was taken not long after the turn of the century. It’s a view down the street from in front of the hotel. Shows the mercantile and the Lady Slipper...both a lot newer than they look now. You can even see a bit of the well. I hadn’t thought about it before, but since you said—”
Twilight, Texas Page 9
