Husband and Wives

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Husband and Wives Page 21

by Susan Rogers Cooper


  ‘Oh, hush, Jerry!’ she said, standing, hands on hips. ‘I’m sick and tired of this! It’s been almost three years we’ve been covering for her, and now she’s after my brother? I won’t have it!’

  OK, I thought. Now we’re getting somewhere. But I hated the thought that Sister Rene with the cute little butt was gonna be the bad guy in this scenario.

  Jerry fell back in his chair, put his elbow on the arm of the chair, his chin on his fist, and stared off into space, a space far away from his wife and me.

  Carol Anne sat back down, arms across her chest. And I sat there staring at the two of ’em. This went on longer than it shoulda.

  ‘OK, enough!’ I said, standing up. ‘Somebody start talking and I mean now!’

  I was loud enough and it had been silent enough that they both jumped. Jerry let out a deep breath, like he’d been holding it for some time. ‘All right,’ he said, looking at Carol Anne. ‘This is family business and I’d prefer you not let this out.’

  ‘If it has nothing to do with the murder of Sister Mary, then it doesn’t need to go anywhere. But if it does, I’m not making any promises.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with Mary—’ Jerry started.

  ‘And how do we know that?’ Carol Anne demanded.

  ‘Stop! Just tell me,’ I said.

  Jerry leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. ‘About three years ago, when we were still in Oregon, one of our friends at church came to Mary with a problem. Her seventeen-year-old daughter found she was going to have a baby and she wasn’t married. She wouldn’t tell her parents who the father was and this friend needed her daughter married off quickly. We knew the girl, and Mary and Carol Anne and I had a family meeting about it, and it was decided unanimously,’ he said, giving a pointed look at Carol Anne, ‘that we should bring the girl into our family. I’d marry her, but she didn’t have to be a real wife if the two of us – the girl and I – didn’t agree that’s what we wanted.’

  ‘I take it,’ I said, ‘this knocked-up girl was Rene?’

  He grimaced at the use of the term, but went on. ‘Yes. I . . . well, it just wasn’t something I was thrilled about, so we became man and wife in name only.’

  So now I was confused. The two-year-old holding on to Rene I understood, but what about the baby that was always in her arms? ‘So whose baby . . .?’

  ‘That’s what we’d like to know!’ Carol Anne said with, again, a little heat.

  Jerry shot her a look then back to me. ‘Sister Rene has decided not to tell us that, which is her right. But . . .’ He looked at Carol Anne with a sheepish look, then down at the floor. ‘She told Mary.’

  ‘What?’ Carol Anne all but shouted. It was loud enough to wake up baby Mark. She went to the playpen and stuck a pacifier in his mouth and came back. He quieted down.

  Carol Anne stood in front of Jerry with her hands on her hips. ‘Who was it?’ she demanded. ‘Not Dennis!’

  Jerry shook his head. ‘Mary wouldn’t tell me,’ he said.

  ‘Bull!’ Carol Anne said. ‘She told you everything!’

  ‘No, Carol Anne, she didn’t!’ Jerry said with his own heat. He stood up to face her. ‘Mary wasn’t perfect! OK? You keep thinking that, and thinking you can’t take her place and that’s not true! Mary was wonderful, but she was a flesh and blood woman, not something handed down by God! And no, she didn’t tell me who fathered Rene’s new baby! Hell, it could be Dennis! I don’t know who it is, but it could well be the person who killed Mary!’

  Carol Anne turned to me. ‘It wasn’t Dennis! I don’t know why he was over at Rene’s last night, but he was probably borrowing something for Mama.’ She thought about that for a moment and smiled. ‘That’s exactly what it was! He was borrowing something for Mama! He saw your car over here and he didn’t want to disturb us, so he went to Rene’s to borrow whatever it was Mama needed!’

  Jerry stepped up to his wife and rubbed her arm. Looking at me, he said, ‘That’s probably it. I’m sure it is.’ The two turned to each other and smiled.

  ‘Be that as it may,’ I said, ‘there’s still the question of who fathered Rene’s baby.’

  They both shook their heads. ‘We don’t know,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Y’all sit down,’ I said, taking my seat back myself. When we were all settled back down, I asked, ‘So who was around Rene? Who could it have been?’

  ‘That’s just it, Milt,’ Jerry said. ‘We let Rene have her own house, her and her little girl, Cheyenne, and we don’t monitor her every move. She has her own car – her parents send a generous allowance so I don’t have to pay much for her upkeep – she could have gone anywhere, done anything, we just don’t know. When she started showing back about – when was that, honey?’ he asked, looking at Carol Anne.

  She sighed. ‘Long before you ever knew,’ she said and patted him on the thigh. ‘Mary and I kept the knowledge to ourselves for a while before we even approached Rene about it.’ She looked down at her lap, her face turning red. Finally, she looked up at her husband. ‘We thought it was yours at first, then Mary and I talked about it and both agreed that you would have told us if you decided to take Rene on as a real wife.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you two worked that out. I hope you know I never would have done anything like that without talking to the two of you.’

  She nodded her head and squeezed his hand. He didn’t let hers go.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘the new baby . . .’

  ‘Michael,’ Carol Anne said.

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Six months,’ Carol Anne said.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘add six months to nine months and let’s say approximately fifteen months ago, which would have been summer last year – remember what was going on back then? Who was around? What y’all were doing?’

  The two of them thought about it. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary,’ Carol Anne said. ‘The kids were going to school, we were all going to church, Jerry was going to work. Rene was volunteering some at the church for the autumn carnival . . .’ She looked at Jerry, her eyes big.

  ‘Who else was working that carnival?’ I asked.

  Jerry’s face hardened and he stood up. I stood up too. ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘Just the women of the church,’ Carol Anne said. ‘And Brother Earl.’

  When I got in my Jeep, I noticed Deputy Skitteridge’s car was gone. I hoped she planned on giving me a report. I put that thought aside and thought about what I’d learned this morning. The Hudsons were thinking Brother Earl might have something to do with Rene’s new baby, but there was still the possibility of Dennis Rigsby, Carol Anne’s brother, doing more than ‘borrowing something for Mama.’ I looked over at Carol Anne’s former house, now occupied by Mrs Rigsby and her son Dennis, and all the boys – Mary’s, Carol Anne’s, and Rachael’s. Nobody home yet. Both vans were still missing. I looked across the street at Rene’s house. Way too big for a woman and two small children, but all the houses in The Branches were big. If the girl was seventeen when she married Jerry, and now had a two-year-old, she was just nineteen now. Brother Earl obviously liked them young, if you looked at his newest wife, the Russian mail-order bride, or whatever she was. I wonder how long he’d had Nadia as his wife. Less than fifteen months? Had he found out his fondness for sweet young things by messing with Rene?

  Personally I was sick of talking to Brother Earl. I’d rather eat a dirt sandwich than spend any more quality time with that quack, but it looked like I was gonna have to. I was just thinking about heading back to Tejas County, when the big van pulled into the cul-de-sac.

  I got out of my Jeep and walked up to the van. ‘Mr Rigsby,’ I said to Dennis. ‘May I speak with you a moment?’ Looking in the back seat, I said, ‘And you, too, Mrs Hudson.’

  Dennis frowned and turned to his mother. ‘Mama, take the boys on in and start some dinner, OK? I’ll be right in.’

  ‘What’s going on, Dennis?’ his mama asked.

  ‘Nothing, Mama. Go on in
now.’

  Rene walked up to Mrs Rigsby and handed her her two children. ‘Take the babies, will you, Mama Rigsby?’ she said.

  ‘Like I don’t have enough to do already!’ the older woman said, although she took both the two-year-old and the six-month-old, cooing to the baby in her arms as she herded the boys into the house.

  ‘Girls,’ Rene said, ‘y’all go on in to the main house, now. Lynnie, take ’em on in.’

  ‘Come on, girls,’ Lynnie said, pushing her sisters ahead of her.

  Rene walked up to where I was standing with Dennis.

  ‘Yeah, Sheriff?’ Dennis asked when Rene joined us.

  ‘Saw you going in to Rene’s house last night, Dennis,’ I said, looking him in the eye. ‘Care to explain?’

  Dennis looked at Rene and Rene looked at her toes. She was leaving it up to him. Maybe she did that a lot – leaving decisions up to her man of the moment.

  ‘Ah, Mama wanted me to ask Rene something,’ he said.

  ‘She couldn’t call?’ I asked.

  ‘Phone didn’t work,’ he said.

  ‘If I asked your mama to verify this, you think she would?’ I asked.

  Dennis looked down at his toes. Finally he looked up at me. ‘What is it you want to know, Sheriff?’

  ‘You the father of Rene’s youngest?’ I asked.

  ‘No!’ Rene said.

  Dennis chimed in with: ‘Absolutely not.’

  I looked at Miss Cute-Butt. ‘Then who is, Mrs Hudson?’

  ‘My husband, Jerry, of course. I hear my babies crying. I gotta go!’ she said, and ran into the house now occupied by the Rigsbys – mother and son.

  ‘You hooking up with Rene?’ I asked Dennis.

  He shrugged. ‘Probably not,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Thought so for a while, but I had to tell her last night I lost my job at Jack-in-the-Box.’ He shook his head again. ‘I don’t have anything to offer her. No job, living in one of Jerry’s houses. Hell, I don’t have a pot to piss in that doesn’t belong to somebody else.’

  I looked at Dennis. ‘Sorry, man,’ I said. Changing the subject, I asked, ‘Who’s the father of Rene’s new baby?’

  Dennis looked me in the eye. ‘Hell if I know. She won’t tell.’

  ‘According to Jerry, she told Mary.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Dennis said, raising an eyebrow. ‘So who is it?’

  ‘According to Jerry, Mary didn’t tell him.’

  ‘Yeah, according to Jerry. Everything’s always about Jerry,’ he said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.

  Dennis tried to make eye contact and failed. ‘Nothing,’ he said.

  ‘Naw, now you started it. Spit it out.’

  Dennis sighed. ‘It’s just that, you know, my sister marries the guy and Mama’s all ‘‘Jerry does this’’ and ‘‘Jerry said that’’ and Carol Anne can’t complete a sentence if Jerry’s name’s not in it. And now Rene . . .’

  His voice faded out as he stared at his toes. ‘What about Rene?’ I asked.

  When he looked up, he had a resolute look on his face. ‘You know Rene’s Jerry’s wife in name only? That they never did the deed?’

  ‘That’s what Jerry tells me,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, but did he mention they did it before they got married? Did he mention he’s the father of Rene’s little girl?’

  TWELVE

  Jean Mcdonnell – Sunday

  After church, my son John and I drove to the hospital to check on Rachael and Melissa.

  Roy Donley, the long-haul trucker, was sitting in a chair by the door when we got there, regaling the two females with his tales of the road. He stood when John and I walked in the room. ‘Hey, Dr McDonnell,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Ma’am,’ Roy said, indicating the chair he’d just vacated. ‘Please have a seat.’

  As I sat, Roy took my crutches and placed them within reach. Quite a gallant fellow.

  Rachael said, ‘We’re getting out of the hospital today.’

  Melissa said, ‘Yea! I can’t wait. Sister Carol Anne’s gotta cook better than this place!’

  I laughed, but Rachael said, ‘Melissa, that’s rude! They’ve been very good to us here.’ Looking around and seeing no one from the hospital staff, Rachael stage-whispered, ‘But you’re right – anything would be better than here!’

  Melissa giggled.

  ‘What time are you getting out?’ I asked.

  ‘They’re working on the paperwork now. All we have to do is get dressed.’

  ‘Will you need a ride?’

  ‘I’ll be takin’ ’em over to the Hudsons in The Branches,’ Roy Donley said. ‘They’ll be staying there for a couple of days.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I said, smiling big. ‘Well, John and I should probably leave and let you two get dressed.’

  Rachael held out her hand and, grabbing my crutches, I walked up to the bed and took it. She squeezed my fingers. ‘Jean, thank you for all you’ve done for us. I’m calling you by your first name because you’ve gone beyond your call of duty as a doctor. You’ve performed as a friend, and I’ll consider you one forever.’ She leaned forward and hugged me and I hugged her back. She was right – I considered her more than a patient. I turned and kissed Melissa on the cheek.

  ‘You be a good girl for your mom,’ I said.

  ‘Do I have to?’ she said, then grinned.

  John and I left, with me feeling a little misty-eyed.

  Milt Kovak – Sunday

  So I didn’t get back in my Jeep, but headed instead back to what I’d come to consider the ‘main’ house of the Hudson compound, Sister Mary’s former abode. And I didn’t ring the bell this time – this time I slammed my fist against the door in an attempt at a knock.

  Jerry answered the door. ‘Milt! I thought you—’

  I grabbed him by the arm. ‘Get out here!’ I said between gritted teeth, pulling him out of the house and onto the porch.

  ‘What?’ Jerry said.

  I slammed the door behind him. ‘You son-of-a-bitch!’ I said.

  Jerry turned red. ‘Now, Milt, I can’t have you—’

  ‘Don’t you get sanctimonious with me, you asshole!’ I said. ‘Lying to my face not ten minutes ago!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Jerry demanded.

  ‘The name Cheyenne ring any bells?’

  The red got redder. ‘Ah, I’m not sure . . .’

  ‘You’re not sure if I know the truth? Well, I think I do. I’ve been led to understand that you are Rene’s little girl’s daddy, and that you knocked her up before marrying her and didn’t mention it to either of your other wives.’

  Jerry looked around him in fear. ‘Now, hush!’ he said in a whisper. ‘Don’t let anyone hear you!’

  ‘Why not?’ I asked in a normal, maybe a little louder than normal, speaking voice.

  ‘You don’t understand!’ he wailed.

  ‘You bet your ass I don’t!’ I agreed.

  ‘Can we sit in your car and talk about this?’ Jerry asked.

  I had this overwhelming urge to smack him. Right in the kisser. I’m not sure why, but I was madder than I’d been in a long time. Maybe it was because I’d come to like and respect this man, only to find out he was just as weak as the rest of us, and holier-than-thou to boot. We sat in my Jeep and I couldn’t bear to look at him.

  ‘Less than ten minutes ago you said how you wouldn’t take Rene on as a ‘‘real’’ wife without talking to Mary and Carol Anne about it – but that didn’t seem to faze you when you were fucking the teenaged babysitter, you asshole!’

  ‘It wasn’t like that!’ Jerry protested. ‘I swear to God it wasn’t.’ He took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Besides, Mary knew. I told her right after it happened. When she found out Rene was pregnant, she’s the one who went to Rene’s parents and suggested the marriage in name only.’ He sighed. ‘Mary was a great woman, but she could be spiteful. I think she did that – brought Rene into our family – as a
way of rubbing my nose in it, reminding me every day of my transgression.’

  ‘Mean old Mary, making you take responsibility for your own frigging child!’ I said.

  Jerry shook his head. ‘I’m not saying that . . .’

  ‘You just did!’ I reminded him.

  ‘She would always do the right thing. Rene was part of our family – Cheyenne is my child. But in the end it had the effect Mary wanted. I wouldn’t go near Rene, no matter how much she wanted it.’

  ‘Rene wanted it?’ I said, a little – OK a lot – skeptical.

  Jerry shrugged. ‘I don’t know why, Milt. I’m not saying I’m some great lover or anything. She’s the one who started the whole thing to begin with . . .’

  That got me hot. Gritting my teeth to keep from screaming at him or hitting him, I said, ‘You know how many pedophiles I’ve heard say that? She was coming on to me! That little twelve-year-old! Hell, Rene was seventeen! Coming on to you?’

  Jerry was shaking his head like he was trying to get it to fall off. ‘It wasn’t like that, Milt, I swear! She babysat for Mary when she had to be at the church for something and Carol Anne couldn’t do it. And sometimes I’d be there. And she just kept at me. I swear to God she’d come in dressed all proper and when Mary left, clothes would start coming off! And touching me, all the time touching me! I’m not saying I’m not to blame, I am! Totally to blame. But she was after me for some reason, Milt. And,’ he looked out the window then, not looking at me, and his voice was low, ‘she wasn’t a virgin.’

  ‘And how would you know that?’ I asked.

  ‘A man can tell,’ he said quietly to the window.

  I’m not sure if I bought that old wives’ tale, although I’d personally deflowered two of my own (married both of ’em too), but not knowing the science of it, I let it go.

  ‘So you knocked her up the second time?’ I asked.

  He shook his head violently. ‘Absolutely not! I haven’t been alone with her since that one night we had together.’

  ‘So you told Mary. How about Carol Anne?’

  Again, the head shake. ‘She doesn’t know. And I don’t want her to. Carol Anne’s not as . . .’ He seemed to search for a word. ‘Understanding as Mary was.’

 

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