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The Convent Rose (The Roses)

Page 4

by Lynn Shurr


  “Her mama, people said, was too good or too lazy to get a job. They lived off the life insurance money left to Eve for a while. Then, turned out Mrs. Burns had that chronic fatigue problem and went right into leukemia. Tough break.” Ja’nae shook her head in sympathy.

  The restaurant stood empty now. The bartender told two men lingering over drinks that it was closing time. A couple of the kitchen workers came out to say they were leaving, and Eve had gone already.

  Bodey got up and stretched. He snagged the card from the picture he had admired, put it in the pocket of his tan leather jacket, and gave hugs to the women and a handshake to Leon. “Great seeing y’all.”

  “Come back soon, now.”

  “Oh, I will. Big Ben left me the Three B’s. I plan on being here for quite a while.”

  Stepping from the restaurant, Bodey stopped in the middle of the gravel parking lot to look up at the sky. He thanked heaven Rainbow didn’t have enough streetlights and neon to block out the stars. On the horizon, clouds even blacker than the night sky built up for a spring storm. A little night chill was coming down, and moisture already covered the windshield of his truck. He worked the wipers and checked his watch. Only nine-fifteen.

  Bodey pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed. “Hey, Russ. Mind if I come over for a while if I bring the beer?”

  “I told you earlier Noreen and our little girl are down with something, but if you want to take your chances, sure, come on over. I just got Jesse into bed. We have the place to ourselves.”

  “Be right over with the brew and some strawberries for the missus. You’re a friend, Russ. Thanks.”

  ****

  They talked about old times, him and Rusty. They spoke about his kids. Finally, they got to the sticky subject of the fate of the Three B’s.

  “You plan on selling because I’d like to make a first offer?” Rusty said.

  “I know it was your family’s land, Russ, but I spent some of the happiest years of my life here, too. Means a lot to me that Big Ben thought to leave the Three B’s in my care after he dropped dead at his annual Dallas pig roast last year. Good ole Ben, boozin’ and barbecuing right up to the end. Not a bad way to go.”

  “Nope, not so bad.” Rusty didn’t say anything more on the subject.

  “That’s all he left me. His harpy daughters got the rest and will probably sell off everything but the oil rights. I plan to set up my buckin’ bull operation right here. Maybe breed some quarter horses. I can let you keep your lease on the lower barn and the pasturage along the frontage road, but I’ll need the rest of the space.”

  “I understand.” Russ kept his eyes on the Late Show flickering on the TV screen, the sound muted.

  “I want to fix up the house and repair the pool. Your kids are welcome to swim anytime.”

  “Thanks. That’s generous of you.” Russ wouldn’t look at him.

  “Don’t be like this, Rusty. Big Ben paid your daddy well to look after the place. I know he leased to you really cheap, besides paying you the same salary Ted got before he married that widow and retired. How’s that workin’ out?”

  “Great. You remember how Mona made my dad court her for a whole year before they got married in the nuns’ chapel—because she was worth it, she said. Now, they ride, hike, travel, plant a big garden, go dancing, and play with each other’s grandchildren. You’d never know Dad had a stroke. Mona watches his health like the physical therapist she used to be. I’m happy for him.”

  “I still want you to manage for me. There will be more work once I get my operation started, so a raise in pay would be comin’ along.”

  Rusty Niles stayed silent.

  “Look, I know you think I have everything in the world, but I envy you your family, your dad, your kids, a lovin’ wife. I’m havin’ a hard time settlin’ in after the rodeo life. That’s why I came back here where I have a few friends and some happy memories. I need your friendship.”

  “You got it. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  They sat and drank beer until Rusty began to hint that he had to get up early. Just before Bodey left around one, he turned the conversation to Eve Burns.

  “Noreen keep up with her friends from the Academy?”

  “Some. The ones she liked.”

  “How about Eve Burns? I know she’s waitressing at the café.”

  Rusty threw back his head and laughed hard until he remembered the children were asleep and his wife sick. “You old dawg, you! Never forgot the one who wasn’t charmed by Bodey Landrum. I remember when she shot you down on the bridle path fifteen years ago today, a highlight of my teen years.”

  “So was that night in the barn.”

  “Sure. I met Noreen. You know, we didn’t do it that night. We didn’t do it till her senior year in college. She wanted to wait for marriage, she said, but five years was just too long a time for both of us.”

  “I remember all too well. You about drove me nuts mooning over Noreen all the time. Glad you finally got some.” No way would he mention that as soon as Rusty and Noreen had sex, the woman got pregnant, and in his opinion, trapped Russ into marriage way too young.

  “How’s your cousin Renee?”

  “Married twice, but she’s between men right now. Why don’t you give her a call instead of bothering poor Eve?”

  I’m lookin’ to settle down. I want quality, not quantity.”

  “Well, Eve is quality. Doesn’t say much for my cousin, though.”

  “I could have married ten like Renee when I was ridin’. Sorry, but it’s the truth.”

  “Okay, then. Eve has a studio and living quarters in a little place she rents from the nuns near where Main Street turns into Courville Road outside of Rainbow. The house has lots of banana trees around it and an old plantation bell out front, a small grove of pecans off to the right. You can’t miss it, but don’t tell her I told you where she lives. And don’t tell my wife either. Shucks, why am I worried? It would be some kind of miracle if you and Eve ever got together.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, good buddy. I don’t plan on ending up old and alone the way Noreen always said I would if I didn’t clean up my act.”

  Bodey left behind the six-pack with three bottles still remaining because he had cleaned up his act a long time ago. Mama Tyne had been right when she’d chewed him out in the past, saying that bull riding and booze didn’t mix.

  On the way back to the Three B’s, the storm overtook his truck. He didn’t have far to drive, but he pulled off the road anyhow and sat enjoying the turmoil in the sky. The rain lashed at the windows, and lightning slashed across the sky. Bodey wished he could ride the lightning and spur the black clouds. One of the things he’d been missing since leaving the circuit was a real challenge, but now that he’d met Eve Burns again, retirement didn’t seem all that bad.

  Chapter Two

  Bodey woke earlier than he should have and breakfasted on cereal and fresh strawberries. He walked around the ranch after he showered, ran into Rusty working in the barns, but made no offer to help because he didn’t want to smell of cattle and manure today. When a decent hour for phone calls finally arrived, he dialed the number on Eve’s card. No answer. He recorded a message saying he wanted to buy a painting and left a number, but no name. He more or less said the same thing in an e-mail using the name Bullrider#12345 and hoped she wouldn’t catch on, but he admitted it was kind of obvious.

  Finally around noon, he drove over to her place where the banana trees were just starting to sprout from old, dead stumps and the pecan trees waggled the pale, green tails of their flowers. Eve wasn’t around, but that didn’t stop him from checking out the place and looking in the windows.

  Her home was really two old shotgun houses sort of shoved together at a right angle. Tall latticework placed around where they joined created a private entry. Coral honeysuckle twined in and out of the spaces of the laths, and a big cast iron gumbo pot sat in one corner holding a few w
ater lilies and some tiny goldfish that hid when his shadow crossed their domain. Sword fern sprouted around the moist base of the kettle and between the stepping stones that had imprints of oak leaves. Pots of pink begonias saved from the frost lined the porch. Wind chimes tinkled.

  Bodey would have said he was enchanted if he ever used words like enchanted. He was also nosey. He peered into the windows of the building that ran north-south and could see straight through to two more windows and a door in the rear because all the intervening walls had been removed. He observed work tables fixed with lights, easels with works in progress, and a sink about where the old kitchen might have been.

  He stepped over to the porch of the second building. This one was darker inside. Bodey could make out by the light coming in a far window she had quarters with an office area, small kitchenette and tiny living room all in a row. The space behind the wall that ran down the middle probably housed the bedroom and bath. Smaller than a trailer home, but infinitely more classy like Eve herself.

  Bodey sat for a while on the porch in one of the sturdy old chairs that had been painted in swirls of yellow, green, and blue paint, but Eve didn’t return. In the end, he left his offering of two pints of the best strawberries from the flat on a little mosaic table. He tucked a note between two of the biggest berries saying how he wanted to buy “Sky and Plains #3” for $500 and how he hoped she liked strawberries because he’d bought too many for a single man to use all alone. There, that said it all. He went back to the ranch to wait.

  The day moseyed slowly by for Bodey Landrum. Finally, he saddled up one of the two horses he had brought with him and gone for a long ride. While he gave Rocky a nice rubdown afterward, his cell phone rang. Regardless of the horse dander on his hands, he answered right away.

  Eve said, “I called to thank you for the strawberries. I ate an entire pint with powdered sugar and made a mess of myself as soon as I got back from the Academy—but about the painting.”

  “See, we do have things in common. I love strawberries, and there are more in my fridge. If you want to come over, I can show you some other ways to enjoy them.”

  Absolute silence ensued on the other end of the line, but she didn’t hang up. All right, either Eve didn’t know how to flirt or he’d mortally offended her. Or she wanted to sell her painting and then hang up.

  “About my painting,” she finally said. “The price is $250. I couldn’t ask you to pay more.”

  Okay, she wanted to sell a painting. “If I think it’s worth more, why shouldn’t I pay more, darlin’?”

  “Because I couldn’t cheat a poor cowpoke like yourself?”

  “Honey, I ain’t poor, and I own lots of art.”

  “Oh, really?” Eve said the words so coolly Bodey knew she envisioned black velvet masterpieces and the kind of voluptuous nudes that hung in your better bordellos.

  “I got me a Georgia O’Keeffe with one of them cattle skulls in it. I hope that skull belonged to one of the ancestors of the bulls that threw me. That would give us a connection. Speaking of which, maybe we could go out dancin’ after I come by to pay you for the picture.” He laid it on thick, but it might work. You never knew with women.

  “Careful, your education is showing, Mr. Landrum. I don’t dance, really. Clubs make me uncomfortable. They’re crowded and smoky and full of drunks and—”

  “Fine. What would you feel comfortable doing with me?” His comment met with silence again.

  Eve truly wanted to say “nothing.” She’d ridden away from him as a schoolgirl, too flustered inside to handle a boy as handsome and self-assured as Bodey Landrum. Last night, she’d enjoyed the light flirtation as long as she thought he hadn’t recognized her. Then, she’d fled again in panic. All these years gone by, and she still couldn’t imagine being able to hold the interest of a man like Bodey. Now, he waited for an answer. Desperately, she searched her mind for a nice, safe, neutral activity.

  She was on the Art Walk Committee and had pledged to bring out as many people as she could. “Well, Rainbow is hosting an art walk on Saturday. I don’t have to hang my exhibit because most of my things are at the restaurant, but once I’ve made sure about the refreshments, maybe we could walk around together and see if there is anything else you would like to buy.”

  “That’s two whole days away, darlin’. You sure you don’t want to dance?”

  “I’m sure. Take it or leave it.”

  He took it.

  ****

  Bodey checked himself over in his mother’s antique cheval glass that he’d found covered with a sheet and shoved in a closet. He guessed the tall mirror might have been too risky to move, and that Bets thought she’d be back in Rainbow sooner, rather than never. His mama had prized the mirror she’d paid a pretty penny for at Mt. Carmel’s annual attic sale. She’d claimed she always looked and felt like a new bride when she saw herself in it. Bodey was glad the purchase had given her joy. He’d learned after a while that most possessions did not.

  But, he did look fine as a bridegroom himself tonight in his pale gray suit and ostrich skin boots. The gold Rolex on his wrist was the most expensive one he owned, and his bolo tie had a chunk of turquoise the size of some of the knots he’d gotten on his head from riding bulls. Taking a wide-brimmed white Stetson from the closet shelf, Bodey settled it on his head and set out for the art walk.

  He wished he had brought the classic Corvette from Texas, but he’d cleaned the truck inside and out. Just like in high school, he’d spent all afternoon washing and polishing his vehicle in preparation for a big date. Going shirtless had perked up his tan, too, and he had been able to keep an eye on the men caulking the cracks in his pool.

  Eve insisted they meet downtown where she had been since three, doling out some decent wines the Rainbow Artists’ Association had chipped in for and gotten wholesale through Unc Knobby. The Rainbow Cafe had stocked each venue with trays of nibbles, and the small pastries came from the new herbal tea room, the Herbarium, she’d told him.

  The picket fences along Main were decked with old-fashioned, multi-colored Christmas bulbs, and the parish had granted a special license for a small display of fireworks at nine. Mama Tyne promised to stay open until midnight if they had enough customers, and the Herbarium agreed to sell special teas and plain old Mellow Joy coffee throughout the evening.

  Parking came at a premium since tasteful signs requested that no one leave their cars along Main Street this evening. Drivers were directed to lots at St. Leo’s Catholic Church, the little white-framed Baptist sanctuary, or the Assembly of God hall. The small bank and tiny insurance agency also left their lots open. The parking spaces in front of the two bars and the honky-tonk overflowed already. Bodey parked his truck behind Assembly of God among lower, sleeker vehicles and walked over to the Café.

  Bodey found Eve sitting on one of cypress benches next to a stack of maps denoting the various studios and galleries, both permanent and temporary. Two of her larger works sitting on easels framed the doorway, and some of the icons had been moved to the front of the gift shop. Nearby, Rainbow Liquor and Food showed the art of one of the Plato kin who had moved to New Orleans to make a name.

  Bodey stood across the street and studied Eve for a minute. She looked great in a simple black dress held up by tiny straps. No more than a quarter inch of cleavage showed, but the jagged hem of her skirt hung several inches above her knees over a nice pair of long legs. Her shoes were a disappointment—low, practical black sandals when stilettos would really make the outfit—but a man couldn’t have everything, usually.

  He’d never seen her hair unbraided before, and he imagined it would have flowed in a straight, pale, silky sheet down her back if the kinks of the braid had been washed out, but Bodey saw nothing wrong with the curly effect either. He liked variety. Around her neck hung a ring of chunky, smoke-colored stones that looked as if they’d been strung by a child or a hippie. A long, white neck like that should be adorned with pearls, black Tahitian pearls, ropes of them
to slip down into her cleavage and over her equally white breasts.

  “Beep, beep!” Rusty Niles butted Bodey with the stroller carrying his two-year-old daughter. Noreen walked at his side, and ten-year-old Jesse, the boy who had nearly been born at her college graduation, tagged along behind the others.

  “Standing dead still in the road during Art Walk is not allowed. You must stroll, stroll!”

  “Looks good for a woman over thirty, don’t she?” Bodey asked, still staring at Eve Burns who had gotten up to hand maps to people coming down her side of the street.

  “Well, Eve doesn’t have much mileage on her,” Noreen huffed.

  She still retained some of the weight from her second pregnancy, especially in the hips, Bodey noticed. Rusty, bless his heart, didn’t seem to care Noreen was no cover girl.

  “So, you want to walk along with us, Bodey, before you make a fool out of yourself?”

  “I’ll have you know I have been invited to stroll with Eve. Her idea.”

  “Oh, I don’t see this working out.” Noreen shook her head. “Eve is kind of ethereal, and you’re—well...”

  “A cowboy?”

  “I was going to say earthy.”

  “You know, Noreen, you married a cowboy, and I know for a fact he’s a great husband and father.”

  “I married a hard-working cattleman, not the King of the Rodeo.”

  “Rusty could have been king, or maybe just the prince, if he’d stayed on the circuit with me.”

  “Heaven forbid that I wanted my man in one piece and not all broken up! Good luck with Eve or rather for Eve, God bless her.” Noreen gave her husband the eye to move along since people now parted to get around their obstruction to traffic. Bodey was half way across the street and heading for the pale blonde artist.

  “Eve, you look sensational.” Bodey clasped both of her hands even though he crushed the map she held in one of them.

 

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