My shoes made no sound on the hardwood floor as I entered the short hallway and then turned left under the archway into the living room, where the family had gathered in a quiet, somber group. As if on cue, every face had looked up, all wearing varying expressions of surprise. My mother sat on the sofa, Julie and Tammy on either side, their eyes red from weeping. Cameron sat in an armchair next to the cold fireplace.
"Donovan!" My mother had gasped out my name and then leapt up from the couch, rushing toward me and throwing her arms around my waist. I placed my arms around her shoulders, thinking that she seemed so much smaller than she had the last time I'd seen her. She'd aged a great deal since then as well, her hair more gray now than brown, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth more pronounced, and her shoulders more frail. My heart sank, and I felt again the deep stab of regret in my heart. I had allowed too much time to pass. My father had died and my mother had suddenly become an old woman. I had not been around to offer any kind of support whatsoever. A sense of shame flitted through me, and I closed my eyes, praying silently for forgiveness to whoever might be listening.
Moments later, Julie and Tammy also stood in front of me, their eyes filled with uncertainty. I offered them my arms and Tammy rushed into my embrace, while Julie held back a moment before tentatively offering me a hug.
"Well, the prodigal son has returned," Cameron said from his chair.
He made no motion to get up and greet me, and I could hardly blame him. I was the fucking outsider here. For the first time I truly understood the hurt I had caused, and didn't know the first step to try and fix it. I looked down at my mother, gazing up at me with nothing but adoration, tears swimming in her eyes. My heart ached for her, and my overwhelming love for her made me swallow the growing lump in my throat.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. She nodded, a choked gasp escaping her throat as she glanced around at the family gathered in the living room.
"Oh, if only your father were still here to see you—"
She squeezed my arm and then turned and sank back down onto the sofa, trembling. Awkward silence filled the room as I cleared my throat. "If there's anything I can do to help with the arrangements or the costs—"
"Everything's been taken care of," Cameron spoke up. "The service is tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."
I frowned, wondering who had already taken care of the arrangements. Back in New York, I had tried to determine that, as when I called the only funeral home in Stinnett the day following the news of my father’s death, the owner told me all was in order. He would not tell me who had paid for everything, stating that it was confidential.
"Memphis and Tammy took care of the arrangements yesterday morning," Shane explained. "Mom and Dad bought their plots at the cemetery years ago."
I nodded. So Memphis had helped with the arrangements. I was glad that she had stayed in contact with my family. They had always liked her. For the first time in years, I felt a sense of emptiness and loss that I had never experienced before. What would've happened if I'd stayed, I wondered. Would Memphis and I have married, had kids, and lived at and worked the ranch? I shook my head. I hadn't wanted to be at the ranch, in Stinnett, or in Texas. I had wanted to make my own way in the world, and I had done that, and I was successful. I wasn't going to apologize for that. What I was sorry for was not maintaining open communication with the family. I had allowed my disagreements with my dad to affect everyone, which I realized now had been terribly unfair.
"Look," I said in an attempt to break the ice. "I know that I've been gone for a long time. I can imagine you're all angry with me. I just—"
Cameron broke in. "You just up and disappeared! We haven't heard from you in years!"
I stared at him in stunned dismay, and then glanced at the others. "I didn’t think—"
"Well, if you had, you would have maintained some kind of communication, even if it was sporadic. Ever thought about coming back home to let us know that you were alive, little brother?" Cameron challenged.
Before I could reply, my mother broke in.
"Boys," she said quietly. "This is not the time."
She looked at me. "Donovan, you stay in your old room—"
"Mom, I can stay at the motel in town—"
"You'll stay here."
I knew better than to argue with my mom, especially now. I didn't want to rock the boat any more than I already had. Tired and on shaky ground since bumping into Memphis, and this less than stellar meeting with my family had left me drained. "All right," I nodded. "Is there anything I can do right now?"
"Nothing left to do," Cameron mumbled. "It's all been taken care of."
I stared at Cameron a moment, then at Shane, who shrugged and looked down at the carpet. Tammy and Julie stared at me as if they had never seen me before, while my mom stared into the fireplace, swallowing hard before looking back at me.
"It's nice to have you back home, son," she said. "Get some rest. I'm sure you're tired after your travels."
I took the hint. Nodding, I sighed. "All right. I'll see you all in the morning."
I turned and left the room, not sure how I felt. I knew that my sudden appearance was quite a shock for everyone, especially Tammy and Julie. Cameron was obviously seething with resentment, while Shane appeared to be somewhere in between. Of course my mom had been glad to see me, and I was sure I would have time to talk to her privately tomorrow and in the coming days—
Coming days? I planned to stay for the funeral and then go back home to New York City. There was nothing for me here. I felt like a stranger in my own fucking home. I wished that things could have turned out differently, although I was hardly surprised. What had I expected? A family celebration like in the movie It’s a Wonderful Life? I would likely have felt the same way if it had been another member of the family to abruptly disappear from existence and then show up – too little, too late. I would need to address my lack of communication, but not right now. First things first.
So here I was at the funeral service, sitting with my family and yet alone. No one had spoken to me this morning upon rising except my mother, who had ordered me to sit down at the table and eat my breakfast as if I was ten years old again. Breakfast had not changed in all these years. Scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, and gravy. I hadn't had much of an appetite, but the scent of the food in front of me enticed me to eat. Besides, my mom expected it. I hadn't had such cooking since I left the ranch, and despite my lack of appetite, forced myself to eat every bite, if for no other reason than to please my mother.
Finally, the service was over, the eulogies given, and it was time for the procession before the open casket. I stood with my mother, one hand supporting her elbow as she slowly rose and stepped out of the pew to approach the casket. For the first time, I allowed myself to gaze down at my father. My heart dropped. Overwhelmed with emotion, I blinked and swallowed heavily, feeling the weight of guilt and regret weigh heavily on my shoulders. My mother offered a choked sob and then extended one trembling hand to gently caress my father's face. Then, bending down, she kissed his forehead, stiffened her shoulders, and stepped aside to allow me to approach. Julie stood at my other side, ready for her turn to bid her farewell.
I stared down at my father, wishing that I could take back every mean thing I ever said to him. Unbidden, tears came to my eyes as I realized that my foolishness and my stubborn sense of pride had caused me to miss out on so much in the past eight years. I cleared my throat and reached out one hand, laying it gently on my father's chest, over his heart. "I love you, Dad," I said softly. "I'm sorry."
I was surprised to feel a hand on my arm and glanced down to see Julie looking up at me with tears in her eyes. She squeezed my arm in silent support, and I nodded, grateful for her compassion. With one last look at my father, I joined my mother and waited for my sisters and brothers to make their own farewells.
Following the farewells by my family, the casket was closed. The pallbearers took their places and proceeded down the aisle of the
church, ready for the burial service at the nearby cemetery. Grasping my mother's elbow gently, we proceeded down the aisle to the entrance of the church. As we turned, I saw Memphis sitting a few pews behind where we had sat, tears staining her cheeks. She looked up at me, her expression one of intense sorrow. She nodded slightly at me, and I acknowledged her. Then, my mind focused on the burial, I walked out of the church, my heart thudding dully with every step I took.
Chapter 6
Memphis
It'd been three days since Frank Sanderson's funeral, and I hadn't heard from, or seen, Donovan since then. Of course, I had done my best to stay away from the ranch, knowing that Donovan was staying there, coupled with the fact that it was a time for family. While the others might have considered me part of the family, I knew I wasn't, and didn't want to intrude on this private time. Instead, I kept myself busy picking up a few extra shifts at work. Now that I didn't have the bookkeeping job for the Rocking S anymore, I would have to start looking for something else to supplement my income.
I didn't need much. I rented a studio apartment just outside of town, and I was perfectly comfortable there. In fact, I probably could've gotten by with what I made at the restaurant as a waitress, but I was trying to tuck some money away for a rainy day. That was pretty much my motto: never put off ‘til tomorrow what I could do today. I liked to stay busy and didn't like a lot of down time. Of course, I didn't really have anyone to spend my down time with so maybe that made all the difference in the world. When I had dated Donovan so many years ago, I had enjoyed wiling away hours of the day in his company, but that was no longer feasible.
I was on my way to work, though I wasn’t actually scheduled to work this evening. The Chit Chat was hosting a charity event, and I had already committed to participating. It was a rather interesting concept that Gina had come up with, broached and discussed with the other waitresses, and upon their full agreement and enthusiasm, had been brought up to the manager. Surprisingly, he agreed.
The charity event was to raise money for our local hospital, which was pitifully small by most standards, though an essential and important component of our community. With only ten beds, the hospital had a small, one-bay emergency room, a small x-ray department, and a small lab. The charity event was to help the hospital with the purchase of some sonography equipment so that community residents, especially pregnant women, didn't have to drive all the way down to Amarillo for sonograms. The equipment would also be beneficial for the doctors of the community for use in diagnostic imaging of joint, muscle and tendon injuries, as well as utilized for cardiac patients, again saving them the trip down to Amarillo.
While I was certainly on board with the reason for the charity event, I wasn't quite sure I like the idea of how the funds were going to be raised. As it turned out, the waitresses, including myself, had all volunteered to be part of the event in the terms that we would be considered the "reward". How it was all going to work out, I wasn't sure. The premise was similar to an auction, and bidders would bid on winning five dates with any of the waitresses who had volunteered to take part in the charity event. I wasn't sure I was open to the idea of being bid on like I was a horse, but then again, the premise in the region was nothing new. In the old days, such auctions had been held for everything from picnic boxed lunches or dinners to tickets to community as well as special events in Amarillo.
The Chit Chat was closed for the evening in order to host the charity. I wasn't sure of the turnout, but I had noticed the fliers for the event stapled up on telephone poles and placed in shop windows throughout Stinnett as well as Bolger for the past several days. It was all in good fun, but at the same time, I wondered about safety. Gina had assured me that all the "dates" with winning bidders would be in public places, and the bidders were not to pick up the girls at their own homes, but at the Chit Chat restaurant or some other highly public location, and return them there within a specific time frame. It seemed innocent enough, and to be honest, I had never heard of any incident in either Stinnett or Bolger that gave me cause to worry with this planned charity benefit and auction.
I smiled as I drove down the nearly deserted road just before dusk. With my luck, some old man would win the bid for me, which I didn't really mind. At the same time, it would be nice if the high bidder for my dates was younger and able to provide me with some distractions and entertainments that would take my mind off Frank, and naturally, Donovan's continued presence in town.
I had called the ranch a couple of days ago to check up on Lisa, and Tammy had told me a friend of Donovan's named Damien had flown in from New York City with Donovan, but had stayed the night before in Amarillo. Later, after the burial service, the guy had shown up at the ranch, but would stay the night at a local hotel in town. Apparently, the two were good friends and Damien was proving somewhat effective as a buffer between Donovan and his family. Tammy had laughed when she said the two had gone off to help Shane brand a few cattle the day before, and while Donovan was perfectly at home doing so, Damien was as out of place as a fish out of water. He was a good sport though, and had laughed at his lack of knowledge and know-how when it came to ranch activities.
I wondered when Donovan would head back to the city. What did he do there? Did he have a family? I couldn’t hold back the questions, but Tammy didn’t have answers to any of them. I shook my head, telling myself that it didn’t matter. Donovan was in town to attend his father's funeral, and as soon as it was "decent" I had no doubt that he would disappear once again, back to wherever he came from.
Tammy had told me that Donovan had been living in New York City for the past few years though, which surprised me. New York City was just about as far away and as different than Stinnett as one could possibly get. I still didn't know what Donovan had been doing with himself all these years, or how he was employed, or even if he was married, and I didn't ask. Despite my questions, Tammy could obviously sense my reticence about Donovan and kept it simple, which only served to allow my imagination to run wild.
By the time I pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Chit Chat restaurant, my eyes widened in surprise. It was packed! While the number of people in attendance would certainly bode well for the charity, I wasn't sure how it would bode for us girls who had agreed to be the "prizes". Gina was sure to love it, but I was beginning to regret my decision to partake.
I parked my car, climbed out, and walked into the back door of the restaurant, nodding my hello to the cooks busily cleaning up and shutting down for the evening. A cluster of waitresses stood by the swinging door that led from the kitchen into the dining area, giggling. Gina saw me and waved me over.
"You wouldn't believe how many guys are out there!" she exclaimed.
"I would venture to say that every eligible male in the county is out there," laughed a young waitress named Laura.
Curious, I stepped to the door and pushed it slightly open, surprised again when I looked out and saw the place packed with laughing men of all ages. I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure anymore if this is such a good idea," I commented to Gina. "Are you sure all these guys know the rules?"
"The sheriff and Jerry are out there explaining the rules," she said.
As if on cue, Jerry, the manager of the Chit Chat, welcomed all the bidders on the other side of the door and then without ado began to lay out the ground rules. The sheriff followed up with his own stern reminder that all the rules were to be followed to the letter to avoid repercussions. I didn't think there would be any trouble, as our two communities were very low in crime. I was sure that neither Jerry nor the sheriff would allow any strangers in town to bid on our "date packages".
Without further delays, the bidding began. First it was Laura's turn, and after her name was called and she walked out the swinging door, her presence was met with a loud cheer. The bidding started and grew quite boisterous, coupled with much laughter and teasing until the allotted five dates with her were procured and paid for. Gina was next, accompanied by the same boisterous, ch
eerful and enthusiastic crowd. Then, I heard my name called.
"The next young lady up for your consideration is none other than our very own Memphis Leonard! Come on out, Memphis!"
With a sigh and rolling my eyes at the waitresses clustered around me, I pasted a smile on my face and pushed open the swinging door. Another rush of enthusiastic cheers greeted me. I was stunned by the number of men in the room. Before I had even taken my position between the sheriff and Jerry, the bidding began.
"Fifty dollars!” came a bid from the front.
I looked at the cluster of men near the front of the crowd and had to smile. If it wasn't old man Garrett to open the bidding. I smiled at him and he laughed. Another bid came in from the middle of the crowd and to the left.
“Sixty dollars!”
Before I could even look in that direction, two more bids came in. Before I knew it a voice called out "one hundred dollars!" The voice came from the back of the crowd, muffled by the uproarious laughter encouraging the bidders.
“One hundred-ten dollars!" I held back my laughter at the enthusiasm of old man Garrett’s voice.
“One hundred-fifty dollars!” came the voice from the back of the room again.
My eyes widened in surprise. This bidding was getting quite serious, which certainly boded well for the hospital, but most of the men in this audience worked really hard for their wages, and I could hardly see many of them willing to part with so much for a mere five dates with me.
"One hundred-seventy-five!" came a voice off to my right, followed immediately by the voice in the back.
"Two hundred-fifty dollars!”
When no additional bids were immediately forthcoming, the sheriff questioned the crowd. “Any other takers?" No other bids were offered, so the sheriff, playing the auctioneer shouted over the noise. "Two hundred-fifty dollars, going once, going twice, done!" He gestured toward the back of the room. "Come on up young man, and claim your dates with the lovely Memphis Leonard!"
Donovan Page 4
