by Leanne Banks
“I didn't understand a lot of the things they said, and when I grew to understand what they were saying, it felt like a box was closing in around me. I couldn't wear a dress without someone commenting on the length. I never dated. I was too afraid of what guys would expect. According to just about everyone, I was destined to be white trash just like my mother.”
“But you weren't;” Michael said and his voice soothed some of the rough spots she was feeling.
“I guess not. I don't feel like I've really had a chance to be normal.”
He gave a half smile. “What's normal?”
She closed her eyes and revisited the daydream she'd had when she was a child. “Having a dad who fussed at you if you were late and who grilled your potential boyfriends. Having a mother who does not draw wolf whistles and cat calls when she walks down the street. Having a mother who is home every night.”
“She must have done something right.”
Katie opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why do you say that?”
“You turned our pretty well.”
“When she was there, she was always affectionate: She hugged and kissed us nearly to death. She was always playing with our hair,” she said, smiling at the memory. “She made everything fun, even taking out the trash and doing the dishes. Cleanup was a relay and the one who did the most in the shortest time got the first ice cream sandwich.” She paused. “Even when we probably deserved it, she never spanked us. She called us her little flowers and she told us we were beautiful even when we weren't.”
“You missed her when you left, didn't you?”
Her eyes filled with sudden dampness that caught her off guard. She blinked. “I did, even though I left the day I turned eighteen,” she admitted in a low voice. “She sent me postcards and asked me to come back to visit, but I just couldn't,” she said, shaking her head. “I was nobody in Philadelphia, but nobody was better than the somebody I was in Texas.”
Feeling strange about all she'd revealed, she hesitated a moment, then lifted her chin. “Don't feel sorry for me.”
He chuckled, lifting his thumb to her jawline. “Not likely, Katie Priss.”
She frowned. “Why do you call me that?”
“Because you're both,” he said.
“No, I'm not.”
“Yes, you are, and when you accept it, things will be easier for you.”
“And what makes you such an expert?”
“I've watched you a lot during the last month.”
“Yeah, well, I've done the living and I know who I am, and it's not Priscilla,” she insisted, feeling an itchy; hollow sensation even as she made her declaration. “I need to go to bed. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a long day. We've got to get Wilhemina on a plane soon.” She briskly walked the rest of the way to the trailer. She wanted to walk fast and go to sleep fast to get away from the thoughts whirring around in her brain. Just as she opened the door, Michael called to her.
“I have something for you,” he said, jogging up the pathway.
She turned and her heart gave an involuntary flutter. “What?”
He joined her on the porch. “Give me your hand.”
She noticed his hand was in a closed fist. “Why?” she asked, warily.
“Trust me. You'll like it.”
She didn't want to trust him. She didn't want to rely on him. That was edging too close to other feelings she didn't want to be feeling. But she would feel like a shrew if she said no. Sighing, she extended her palm. “Okay.”
He took her hand and opened his fist to shake three fireflies into her palm. A spurt of nostalgic little-girl delight pulsed through her. “I didn't see them.”
“Too busy running from Priss.”
She refused to reply. Regardless of his comment, she couldn't help smiling as the fireflies crawled on her palm while he kept them trapped. “You're a city boy. What do you know about fireflies?”
“After my mother got sick, I was moved from relative to relative. One of my aunts had a place in the country, so I caught them. We weren't as nice as you. We would pull off their lights and make designs on the front porch.”
Katie wrinkled her nose at him. “That's gross.”
“We thought it was like hunting. You bring a rack to display your hunting success. You stick the lights on the porch to show off your—”
“Sick cruelty to helpless insects. My sisters loved it when I caught these for them. They didn't ever understand how they got out of the jar by the next morning.” She looked at him, then shook her hand and released them. “I don't want you giving in to the temptation of pulling their lights off to show off your hunting success.” She watched them fly away, then little lights flickering. With mixed feelings, she looked at him. “Thanks.”
“That hard to say?” he said with a half chuckle.
“It's easier for me when you're a jerk.”
“Easier how?”
She thought about that lonely condom burning a hole in her little purse. “In every way. G'night.”
“Good night, Katie Priss,” he said and she felt as if he'd slid past another locked door. She wondered how she was going to continue to keep, him out.
Wilhemina heard a knock at the front door and nearly hyperventilated. Lifting her hand to her chest to calm herself, she glanced at her unpacked luggage. The tapping sounded again.
Her heart in her throat, she forced her lips into a smile as she opened the door to Katie. Katie smiled in return and Wilhemina's stomach turned with guilt.
“Ready to go?” Katie asked.
“No. I'm not ready to go.” Her voice broke and she felt her eyes well with tears. “I don't want to go back!”
Katie's eyes widened in alarm. “Wilhemina,” she began.
Wilhemina shook her head, not wanting to hear Katie's practical words. “I love Douglas. I've never been so happy. I don't want to go.” Unable to hold back her emotions, she began to cry.
“Katie?” Michael's voice carried from the porch.
Katie's eyes widened and she made a panicky sound. “Talk to you later,” she said to Michael, then shut the door in his face. Wincing at her rudeness, she turned a concerned gaze on Wilhemina. “Oh, Wilhemina, you've gotten yourself all upset” she said, giving her a hug. “You need to catch your breath. Let me get you some water.”
Wilhemina inhaled deeply and shuddered with relief in Katie's arms. She felt so confused and afraid, but she didn't want to leave Douglas. She breathed again and a little of the tight heavy feeling in her chest lifted.
Katie patted her on the back and urged Wilhemina toward the kitchen. “Come on. A drink of water will make you feel better. You sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair.
Pulling a glass from the cabinet, she filled it with water and a few cubes of ice. She lifted her lips in a sympathetic smile and sat across from Wilhemina after she gave her the glass. “You know you haven't known him very long at all,” Katie said
“Yes, but he's different than anyone I've ever met,” Wilhemina told her, wanting desperately for her to understand. “He thinks I'm pretty. He doesn't think I'm stupid. And he didn't know who my father was. He just really wanted me,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. She took a quick sip of water. “Me. He wanted me,” she said, still almost unable to believe it.
“But, Wilhemina, how can you possibly really know him after just a few days with him?”
“I know he's been so kind to me. I know he's good.”
“That is really good, but it's not everything. I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but you and Douglas are from different worlds and that's part of the attraction. I think the novelty of being a hog farmer's wife will be likely to wear off.”
“I can't imagine getting bored with Douglas,” Wilhemina insisted.
“What about when he gets extra busy with the farm? What about when he gets tired of cooking and taking care of the hogs?” She sighed. “I'm glad Douglas has been kind to you. I'm glad you've had a good experience with
him, but, Wilhemina, you can't avoid the fact that you are from totally different worlds. You're like a princess, and Douglas is—”
“Don't call him a commoner.”
“I was going to say that Douglas knows nothing of your world.”
Wilhemina bit her lip, refusing to give up. “He knows about my heart, and that's what's really important” She swallowed over her nervousness, “I'm not leaving him. Not yet.” Not ever.
Katie patted her hand. “Just take a breath. We can talk about this later. I-uh-should probably better go and let Michael know we won't be leaving right away.” She patted her hand. “You'll be okay, Wilhemina.”
Wilhemina blinked to keep from tearing up again. “You don't understand what it's like to need somebody, Katie. You're so strong. You just don't understand what it's like to find someone and want to be with them more than anything.” Wilhemina watched a flash of vulnerability cross Katie's face, an expression of longing so deep it made her look twice. But Katie glanced away. “You're stronger than you think,” she said. “We can talk later.”
Wilhemina watched her rise from her chair and walk to the front door. She waited to hear Michael's voice, knowing he would be angry. The thought of it made her want to hide. Katie mercifully closed the door behind her and left Wilhemina alone with her thoughts and the feeling that she was still on borrowed time.
Katie nearly walked straight into Michael as she stepped outside the front door. His jaw was tight and his gaze watchful.
“Why isn't Wilhemina out here with her luggage?”
Katie tugged him down the front steps to the rental car. “This may be a little more difficult than we anticipated.”
“What?”
She lowered her voice. “She thinks she's in love with Douglas.”
“What?”
Katie winced. “Keep your voice down. She's freaked out enough as it is.”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled slowly. “Let me get this right. Just because this hog farmer has been keeping her in bed since they first met, she thinks she's in love. You told her there's a difference between marrying love and fun sex, didn't you?”
Katie's stomach tightened. She couldn't help wondering if she fell into the fun sex category with Michael. Which should be totally okay. “I didn't put it exactly that way, but I did convey the message.”
“And?”
“And she's not ready to leave. She thinks she's in love with him.”
“She thinks he is her cowboy knight,” he said, cynicism making his voice edgy.
“She didn't say that,” Katie said, trying to figure out how to manage the situation. “I can't totally blame her for not wanting to go back to Philadelphia. She hasn't fit in there at all.”
He shot her a wary look. “You're not seriously considering letting her stay.”
“No, but none of this is feeling right at the moment.”
“Feeling right? I think you'd better explain.”
“I mean, what if Wilhemina is really in love with Douglas? She's happy here. Is it really right for us to drag her back to Philadelphia where she's miserable and doesn't fit in?”
Michael shook his head. “Have you forgotten your agreement with Ivan? My agreement with Ivan? Have you forgotten the money?”
“No, and I know I need the money more than you do.”
“That's a matter of opinion.”
“You want the money for your ego. I need the money for a deaf child.”
He narrowed his eyes, his anger visible in the set of his jaw. “You think this is about my ego. It's about honor. My honor.”
“Well, what kind of honor is there in dragging Wilhemina away from her chance at love?”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Lord save me from the romantic insanity of women. For one thing, the distinction between true love and sex is a little murky here. Have you forgotten that the reason we're down here is because of that little fairy tale you told Wilhemina?”
His words dug under her skin…. distinction between true love and sex is a little murky… “What makes you the expert on the distinction between love and sex? From everything you've said and done, you're only an expert on sex.”
He stared at her, then gave a short, humorless laugh. “I'm not sure if I should thank you for complimenting me for being an expert on sex or if I should ask you if you're comparing Wilhemina's relationship with Doug to ours.”
Katie felt hot with embarrassment. She hated that he had nailed her concerns so easily. She glanced away. “I wasn't talking about us, so—”
“If you are comparing our relationship, I think you might want to bear in mind that we have both fought it, and continue to fight it. We both know more about each other than we want the other to know, but in a weird way, you trust me and I trust you. You would also be right if you said I want you in bed like I've never wanted anyone, but I'll be damned if I'll push you. Maybe it's ego. Maybe it's, something else but I want you to come to me one hundred percent willingly.”
It was her tarn to blink. The intensity of his words and his gaze stung her from head to toe.
“Nothing to say?” he asked, his voice filled with an edge of rough emotion and need.
That same emotion and need echoed inside her. But she was way out of her depth and too much of a scaredy-cat to admit it. Unable to tear her gaze from him; she swallowed and shook her head.
“Didn't think so,” he muttered and swore. “This is looking worse than the Titanic. Ivan will come back and after he destroys you and me, he'll rip into Wilhemina. If she has the insane nerve to defy him and stay with Douglas, can you imagine what Ivan will do to a hog farmer?”
Katie shuddered at the image. “Do you really think Ivan would bother with a hog farmer?”
Michael looked at her as if several of her mental light-bulbs were missing. “If his daughter was involved. Have you forgotten his feelings about rednecks?”
Katie felt a deep ripple of uneasiness. “This is going, to be difficult.”
“Unless we just put Wilhemina in the car and leave. She's been brainwashed by sex.”
“I wish you would quit saying that. I was a virgin before last week too.”
“Yes, but I haven't succeeded in brainwashing you.”
“How do you know you haven't?”
“Because you haven't used the condom you took from the box.”
Katie felt her cheeks heat. “How did—”
“I counted.”
She hated that he knew so many of her secrets. “We're getting off the subject of Wilhemina. We can't treat this like some kind of cult intervention. She's going to have to reach the right conclusion on her own.”
“Fat chance with Douglas banging her every other—”
Katie lifted her hands to cover her ears. “Stop.” She breathed in and exhaled slowly, then met Michael's gaze. “I'll talk to her later this afternoon.”
“Why not now?”
“Because she's all worked up. This will give her a chance to settle down enough to hear me. If we're lucky.”
Michael scowled. “Luck,” he echoed, then broke off when his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the incoming caller ID number, and shook his head. “Michael Wingate,” he said into the receiver and paused. “How is she physically?’’ he asked, and waited: “Is she on suicide watch?” he asked, then sighed. “I'm out of town and I can try to see her within the next two days. Make sure you tell her that. Connect me with her and I'll tell her the same, but I think you need to put her on watch until I can get there. I'll hold while you transfer.”
Michael looked at Katie and the ghosts in his eyes tore at her. “Hey, Mom,” he said. “I hear you're having a rough spell.” He nodded as he listened in silence. “I can't come see you today and probably not tomorrow, but I'll try to come the next day?’ He paused again and sighed. “I can't, Mom. I'm in Texas. Two days. I'll be there in two days.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Two days,” he repeated. “Chin up. You'll be okay. I love you, Mom.” He pu
nched the power button and jammed the phone back in his pocket.
“Does that happen often?” Katie asked.
He shrugged. “She has a lot of breaks with reality. Sometimes it's harder for her when she remembers what really happened and that she has a son. She starts to panic. By the time I see her, she may not remember who I am.”
Her heart hurt. She wondered what it was like for him for his mother to be technically alive, but so unreachable. “How soon after your father died did she get sick?’’
“She had several episodes, but her family committed her about two years after my father killed himself. Even though I was only ten, I always felt like I should have been able to make things different.”
“You felt responsible,” she said. “You weren't. And you're not now. And I'm betting you don't want to talk about it anymore.”
“That would be right,” he said. “My mother gets enough psychoanalysis for ten people. She can have my share.”
Katie laughed. “Sounds kinda like something I said.”
“What?” he asked, curiosity lighting his eyes.
She shook her head. “No. It's an inside joke.”
“With whom?”
“Inside me.”
“Stingy.”
“Maybe. So what are you going to do now? Go back to the trailer and work?”
“Guess so,” he said, eyeing the house with a dark expression and walking toward the trailer. “Since Wilhemina's in crisis.”
“I'll talk to her in a while.” She walked beside him.
“What are you going to do in the meantime?”
“Go swimming,” she said, knowing, she was treading on dangerous ground. She should allow Michael to find his solace in his work. He'd obviously been doing that for some time and it had worked. That should be fine with her, but it wasn't. She knew what it was like to want to just take off and do something fun to forget her problems. Every once in a while she allowed herself to go do something crazy. Sometimes you have to do something a little crazy to keep from going crazy. This might be the craziest yet, she thought as she looked into his dark eyes.
He gave her a double take. “Where?”
