by Dixie Cash
Darla set a piece of steaming coffee cake in front of Debbie Sue, who inhaled the heavenly aroma of warm cinnamon, then sliced off a bite and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, my God, this is good.”
Darla tasted her own piece of the warm cake. “Hmm. It isn’t bad. I haven’t totally lost my touch. I learned to cook as a child.” She brought her plate and coffee to the table and sank to a chair adjacent to Debbie Sue’s. “What was it that came between you and Buddy?”
“Rodeo. And barrel racing. I won some ProRodeo championships on the circuit.”
“Really,” Darla said, her eyes large and rounded with surprise.
“Yep. I had a great horse, so I got bigheaded and thought I could go all the way. I made a balls-out effort, too.” Debbie Sue made a gesture with her fist. “That’s one of my big flaws. With me, it’s all or nothing.”
“Oh, my God,” Darla said. “What happened?”
“Nothing much. I never made it to the national finals in Vegas, so Buddy wanted me to give it up. We argued about it a lot and he finally told me we were through if I didn’t quit. My hard head took control of my common sense and I said, ‘No way am I quitting.’ ”
“You mean he refused to support you?”
“It was more complicated than that, but that’s the short version. It’s a really long story. I never talk about it.”
“Hmm, I understand,” Darla said. “Well, it doesn’t matter who’s right and who’s wrong. Never lose sight of how much you love him and what your life would be like with him gone from it.” She stared into space, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “I wish Bob and I could have another chance. Believe me, the second time, I’d be the kind of wife he deserves. The kind of person he should have in his life. I’ve been so damned wrong so many times on so many levels, I almost can’t stand to think about it.”
“You know what?” Debbie Sue said. “Ed thinks you still have a chance with Bob. I might be talking way out of turn here, but I think she could be right. That marriage of convenience he’s in appears to be real inconvenient for him.”
“Is it that obvious to strangers? I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I’m afraid to believe it.”
“Afraid to believe what?” A rumpled, sleepy-eyed Edwina walked into the kitchen, wearing Debbie Sue’s robe, the hemline and sleeve length way too short. Her hair was still plastered to her head from wearing a hat all day yesterday. “Hmmm,” she said bending over the coffee cake and inhaling. “What is this?”
“Cinnamon coffee cake,” Debbie Sue answered.
Edwina opened a cupboard door and took out a plate. “Darla, that looks scrumptious.”
Debbie Sue huffed. “Dammit, Ed, how do you know I’m not the one who baked it?”
Edwina gave her an arch look. “Because I know you. You haven’t put anything in the stove since you were seven and got an Easy-Bake oven for Christmas.”
“Oh, hell, you’re right.” Debbie Sue left her chair and placed another slice of the coffee cake on her plate. “I can’t even make it work with those Pillsbury things you whack against the counter edge.”
“Now, back to the subject I missed out on,” Edwina said, taking an oversized slice of coffeecake. She took an oversized mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee and began adding teaspoons of sugar.
Darla watched wide-eyed.
Debbie Sue had counted eight teaspoons of sugar. She frowned at Edwina’s cup, but to Darla, she explained, “Edwina doesn’t have to worry about what she eats. She never gets fat.”
“Wow,” Darla said. “Fat’s the least of it. If I put that much sugar in a cup of coffee, I’d zoom out of here like a rocket.”
“Darla, you said something about being afraid,” Edwina said, bringing her cake and coffee to the table. “Afraid of what?”
Debbie Sue filled Edwina in on the previous conversation she and Darla had had. Edwina listened intently.
“What I didn’t tell Debbie Sue,” Darla said hesitantly, “is that last night Bob and I kissed, really kissed for the first time in years. The chemistry’s still there. I almost told him I still loved him.”
“Great balls o’ fire,” Edwina gushed. “I knew it. I just knew something happened between you two.” Having finished both her coffee and her slice of coffee cake, she rose from her chair and took another huge slice of the coffee cake, poured another cup of coffee and added eight teaspoons of sugar. “Let me tell you what I think—”
“No. Let me tell you what I think,” Debbie Sue said. “That coffee you’re drinking is like swallowing syrup. I kept my mouth shut for the first eight teaspoons, but now I have to ask, what in the hell are you doing?”
“Listen, I’m gonna be just fine. I read somewhere that P. Piddy or some such somebody does this the day of a performance. After the high passes, massive amounts of sugar can have a calming affect.” Edwina brought her coffee cake and coffee back to the table.
“Edwina, I’ve heard everything imaginable for revving up to perform,” Darla said. “Uppers, downers, cocaine, booze, sex, you name it. But I’ve never heard of anyone using excessive sugar.”
Debbie Sue shook her head slowly, incredulous. “And have you taken into consideration that everyone’s body reacts differently? Eating a pound of sugar might work for P. Diddy, but you don’t really know what it might do to you, do you?”
“Well, no. . . . I’m just assuming that by tonight when I’m ready to perform, I’ll be fine.” Edwina swallowed a great gulp of her coffee.
“Or in a diabetic coma,” Debbie Sue said.
Edwina emptied her mug and cleaned her plate again, even pressing her fork against the crumbs to get every last one, then she got to her feet, grabbed a dishrag and began wiping down the counter, one foot tapping the floor as she worked.
“Look at you,” Debbie Sue said. “You’re already so wired you can’t even stand still. You’re going to be so jacked up you’re going to take off somewhere and we won’t be able to find you for a month, much less get you settled down for tonight.”
“And how long does it take this high to pass?” Darla asked with a skeptical tone.
“Relax, will you?” Edwina flopped her hand at Darla. “What was I about to say? Oh, yeah. I think that after tonight Roxie will be gone.”
“What do you mean by gone, oh all-wise one?” Debbie Sue asked.
“Well, hell, Dippity-do. I only know one meaning for the word gone. Out of the picture. Absent. No longer around.”
“And where would she be going?” Darla asked.
Edwina moved to the opposite counter with her dishrag and began wiping it, too, her feet doing a dance while she wiped. “She’s got a voice like I’ve never heard. Once it hits the airwaves she’ll be gobbled up by adoring fans or agents or producers or whoever it is who makes people big stars. The only thing better than her voice is her face. Running a close second to that is her body. Ol’ Bob’s going to be left sucking hind tit.”
“Ed!” Debbie Sue said.
Darla broke into laughter. “It’s okay. I know what that means. Because I grew up in Texas around agriculture people.”
“It’s a simple explanation for a common occurrence in the animal kingdom,” Edwina said in a condescending tone.
Debbie Sue rolled her eyes.
“He’ll come running back to you, Darla,” Edwina said. “You’ll be the one he turns to for support after she dumps him. Thank God for rebounds, huh?”
Debbie Sue smacked her forehead with her palm, wishing she had a cork for Edwina’s mouth. All of that damn sugar-caffeine combo had her talking a mile a minute. Words were just tumbling out. And her theory about Bob and Roxie and Darla didn’t sound even close to right. One had only to glance in Darla’s direction to see that it hadn’t set well with her, either. Her backbone had gone straight as a rail.
“Rebound?” Darla tossed her head ever so slightly. “Darla Denman is no one’s rebound. If Roxie’s future is clear to you, Bob has to know it too. Looking for a soft place to fall, is he? Th
e bastard. Well, I’ll show him.”
Debbie Sue winced and shot a look of consternation in Edwina’s direction.
“Did I say something wrong?” Edwina asked.
“No, Edwina,” Darla answered sharply. “You’re talking sense, which is something I needed to hear. What time are you two going in to your shop today?”
“We need to be there before eleven, for Maudeen,” Debbie Sue said.
“Do you think y’all can work me in today? I want everything you offer.”
“Everything?” Edwina perked up. “Even the lip and eyelid tattooing?”
“You do that?”
“Ed’s about the best I’ve ever seen,” Debbie Sue said. “Just because we live at the end of the world doesn’t mean we don’t do good work. Ed’s worked wonders.”
“Hmm, I’d rather do that than Botox,” Darla said. “I’ve been self-conscious of my chicken lips the past couple of years. They’ve gotten thinner and thinner. Unfortunately, my thighs didn’t notice. Okay, put me down for the lips, but I’ll pass on the eyelids. I don’t want anything coming at my eyeballs.”
“You could always go see Tatts by Matt,” Edwina said. “He’s probably more qualified than I am.”
“No, thanks. And Debbie Sue’s testimony is good enough for me. I trust you. Hell, I’m feeling better already.”
“And by the time the show starts tonight you’ll be looking better, too,” Edwina said. “Think I’ll have another slice of that coffee cake and some more coffee.”
“No!” Debbie Sue exclaimed, getting to her feet and standing between Edwina and the coffee cake. “My God, you’ll be so revved up, Darla will end up with a zigzag lip line.”
“Everything is perfectly under control,” Edwina said indignantly.
Darla suddenly slapped the table with her palm. “If Bob Denman wants me, he’s going to have to prove it before Roxie makes her big debut and bails on him. Right or wrong, I’m telling him how I feel tonight. I’m drawing a line in the sand. It’s me or Roxie. Make your choice, Bob Denman. You choose me now, not after she’s walked out on you.”
“You go, girl,” Edwina said. “I think he’ll choose you.”
“Me too,” Debbie Sue said. “Don’t you think so?”
Darla sighed, her bravado already declining. “I don’t have a clue. Seems like I never do. I’m lousy with men. Edwina, Debbie Sue’s right. Stop eating that coffee cake and drinking that coffee. If I’m going to get my man back, I need you to have a steady hand.”
Chapter Fourteen
Bob stood at the living-room window sipping his second cup of morning brew and taking in the sunlit morning. Eddie had gone out to the patio attached to the back of the house to smoke while Mike cooked breakfast. Mike’s behavior this morning appeared to be no different from what it always was—absorption in the music from his earpiece and indifference to almost everything else.
Bob set his suspicion aside. Roxie’s antics meant little to him anymore. Even after what he had learned about her last night, he had slept as if he had been cradled in the arms of angels, couldn’t remember the last time he had rested so well. Amazing how things coming into focus could clear the mind.
An elderly woman coming out of the cottage across the street caught his attention. She crossed the street, coming toward the house carrying a newspaper. As she shuffled up the driveway, he walked to the front door and opened it. “Good morning,” he said cheerily.
“Morning,” she said. “You must be the new renter.”
“Well, no—”
“I’m Koweba Sanders. Debbie Sue called me and told me you was here. I brung you the paper.” She handed over an edition of the Odessa American.
No doubt Debbie Sue had asked this Mrs. Sanders to keep an eye on things at her house, though he wondered what the woman could see. She looked to be a hundred years old, wore huge black-framed glasses so round and thick the sheer weight of them kept them sliding down her narrow nose. Bob smiled as he took the paper. “Hey, thanks.”
“I used to have a freezer full of casseroles and I’d bring one of them to new neighbors,” the elderly woman said, “but Debbie Sue’s had so many renters I’ve used ’em all up.”
He stepped back for her to come into the house. “I’ll be sure to return the paper.”
She waved the suggestion away as she came into the living room. “Nah. Don’t bother. I haven’t read that paper in years. Don’t give a damn what happens in Odessa. I’ve kept up my subscription so my kids will have something to read or a puzzle to work when they come for a visit.”
“It’s no problem for me to bring it back to you after I’ve read it, Mrs. Sanders,” Bob promised. “And I won’t touch the crossword. I’ll leave it for your kids to work.”
“Oh, that’s all right. You go ahead and work it if you want to. I’ve got stacks of newspapers saved up. Those kids live over in Austin. They haven’t come to see me in years.” She turned and limped back to the front door. A wave of pity washed over Bob as he watched her totter back to the tiny, neatly kept house across the street. “Do you need any help over there?” he called out.
“No, thanks,” she yelled back. “I haven’t been to the fair in years. Too many people.”
“Bless her ol’ heart,” Bob mumbled.
“Bless whose old heart?” Roxie asked when he returned to the kitchen. “Darla’s?”
Bob felt an uncustomary rush of anger. Putting up with his wife’s nastiness and snide remarks had already sent his blood pressure off the chart. He leveled a fierce look at her. “What would you know about someone else’s heart, when you don’t seem to have one of your own?”
Roxie’s eyelids narrowed. “What did you say to me?”
“You heard me. Not only do you have a heart of stone, my dear wife, you’ve got the morals of an alley cat. You’re not fit to say Darla Denman’s name.”
“Well, look at you. You’ve finally decided to grow a pair. What brings on this sudden . . .” Her words trailed off and her lips eased into a reptilian smile. “You came home last night after all. I figured you’d stay all night with the sweethearts of the rodeo. You should’ve brought Darla home with you. You’d have been welcome. I have no problem with a threesome.”
“Shut your mouth. I don’t even want to know who you were screwing last night. It doesn’t matter. If he’s got any sense he’ll get as far away from you as he can.” Picking up the truck keys from where they lay on the table, Bob said, “Mike? Eddie? Valetta Rose? Y’all grab your stuff. I’ll wait for you in the truck.”
The three left the room. Bob turned to leave through the front door, but Roxie moved to block him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To Hogg’s for breakfast and then to Midland, as if it’s any of your business.”
“But I’m not ready.”
“That’s okay.” Bob clasped her shoulders and moved her aside. “You’re not invited.”
“But how am I supposed to get to Midland?”
“I don’t know. But knowing you and your resourcefulness, you’ll figure something out.”
“Hey, Bob,” Mike said from behind him. “If it’s all the same with you, I’ll stay here. I’ve still got gear to get together.”
Bob stopped and gave him a long, hard look, but the drummer didn’t flinch. Finally, Bob broke away and left through the front door, with Eddie and Valetta Rose trailing behind him.
“You worn-out old man,” Roxie yelled after him. “You’ll be sorry. All of you’ll be sorry. After this, the only way you’ll see me again is if you buy a ticket to my show. Do you hear me? A three-hundred-dollar ticket to my show!”
Roxie watched the pickup back out of the driveway, reverse and disappear up the street. Crap. She had really messed up this time. She didn’t care what Bob thought. But the timing was all wrong. She needed to sing on TV tonight. Her voice and her looks were her ticket out and if Bob Denman thought he was going to stop her, he was out of his mind. Having national television time, even if it was a
chicken-shit local show, was gold. It could cut years off the exhausting trail of finding another manager.
“You didn’t have to stay here with me,” she said to Mike.
“I’m not staying with you. I want to talk to you about last night.” He walked outside to the patio.
Double crap! Was he mad, too?
“As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to talk about,” Roxie said, addressing him through the screen door. “We’ve both got good reasons to keep our mouths shut, so I suggest that’s exactly what we do. In the meantime, we’ve got a show to put on.”
As she turned away from the door, her thoughts veered back to her husband. She would love to just let the chips fall where they might, but she couldn’t. She would be the one to decide when her marriage ended and now wasn’t the time for it. She needed another chance to get him alone and sweet-talk him. She knew the buttons to push and when to push them.
But first, she and Mike needed a ride. Slipping her phone from her robe pocket and a business card from the other, she keyed in a number, pressed the phone to her ear and listened to two rings. “Hey, hot stuff, can you pick me and Mike up and give us a ride to Midland?”
At the Styling Station, Debbie Sue unlocked the back door for Edwina and Darla and they followed her inside. “You’ll be meeting our very most favorite customer today,” Debbie Sue told Darla as she flipped on the lights and raised the shade covering the front door’s window.
“The older woman who called last night who was confused about the time?”
“Ooh, yeah. That’s her,” Edwina groused. “Sometimes she’s a big pain in the ass. I just hope she doesn’t bring a bunch of cackling old hens from that nursing home with her.”
Debbie Sue could tell Edwina’s sugar high had worn off. Instead of the calming effect Edwina claimed to have read about, the overload of sugar and caffeine had had an opposite result. She was cranky as an old maid watching The Bachelorette on TV. “Ed! Bite your tongue. You love Maudeen. And those cackling old hens are a big part of our livelihood. If it wasn’t for the ladies at Peaceful Oasis we might have to shut our doors.”
