It was the usual holiday crowd: Grandma Lila, Grandpa Shannon, Shay’s sisters and Maggie and Sterling’s best friends. I had grown close to Lila. We both watched the same soap opera show, so we’d begun calling each other every day to discuss the latest plot twist and put in our own two cents. Lila was a hard woman to love. She seemed cold and distant. I don’t think she was ever close to any of her daughters-in-law or grandchildren. But Lila and I had somehow forged a bond. I truly loved her and I knew she loved me as much as she could love.
***
We had an early Christmas at Mom and Dad’s on the 24th, then out to Grandma Lila’s and Grandpa Shannon’s for the big family Christmas Eve. This was the Christmas I knew Lila loved me. Everyone had opened their gifts, all the adults were visiting and the kids were all busy playing with their new toys. Lila came across the room, tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Kathrine, grab a jacket and let’s go outside for a breath of fresh air.”
It was a winter wonderland outside; cold and brisk, with a bright full moon that lit the snow up, making every ice crystal and snowflake glisten.
Lila and I walked around the outside of the house.
“Kathrine,” she said, her breath making clouds in the cold, “I’m so glad you’re a part of this family. You make everything sweeter.”
Then she took my hand and slipped something into it; a hundred dollar bill.
“That’s a little something for you from me, my dear one,” she said. “No one needs to know.”
I just hugged her. I think it took her aback at first, but then she gave me the warmest hug back. Thinking back on it, I never saw anyone of her family members hug her. Sometimes she’d just pass me a wink.
Christmas Day at the Westovers’, everyone was dressed to the nines. The two young children added a little chaos and life. Things didn’t stay perfect or go as planned, especially the gift opening. Kelly stopped after opening every gift to play with it, so we just moved on until she was ready to open another gift. Amazing how these little ones so change the lives of the people around them. I was thinking to myself, ‘Next year there will be three.’
***
I had forgotten that Shay would be going to Kansas for the four-day cattle auction after Christmas, but I now knew the routine. So when I helped him pack, I didn’t mention the good clothes he packed.
He came home in time for New Year’s Eve, and we went out with Kevin and Karen Poole to the club for dinner and dancing. I didn’t have to wear maternity clothes yet, as I had only gained two pounds. So I wore a red silk blouse with a mock turtleneck, a tight black skirt that landed about three inches above my knees, black nylons with a black lace garter belt that matched my lace panties and bra, a two inch black patent leather belt, and black stiletto heels (which were the big thing right then.) I also wore red and black earrings and a matching necklace, highlighted with silver, which I wrapped around my neck several times, letting the rest drape down in front, almost to my waist. The cherry on top was a long red silk scarf draped around my neck and shoulders. It was a real classy outfit, one I received many compliments on. (And don’t forget the platinum-white, 1960s beehive hairstyle, of course.)
Shay was having plenty to drink, dancing with all his old girlfriends. I was sitting at the table most of the night by myself. Kevin was dancing with Karen. Out of the blue some guy came to the table and asked me to dance. I accepted. We were dancing a slow dance, when I noticed Shay had just caught a glimpse of me on the dance floor.
He walked up to me and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Callie?” Then he looked at the guy and said, “Get your hands off my wife.”
“Shay,” I said, “We’re just dancing. I don’t even know this guy.”
“You just shut, Callie,” Shay said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me from the dance floor.
When we got to the table I sat down but I could see Shay was still angry. It was that hard liquor anger I had seen before. He wasn’t over it yet. I was trying to just let things cool down, when Shay grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the chair toward the door. Outside it was snowing softly, a real light dry snow.
We had parked way back in the parking lot, so no one would hit the Impala. It was quite dark out there and Shay forced me toward the car.
“Shay what are you doing? My purse is inside, and my coat...” I said in a soft voice. I didn’t want to make him any angrier. I thought he was taking me home.
“If you want to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut, Callie,” Shay said, pushing me over the trunk of the Impala.
He pulled up my skirt, forced my panties down and had sex with me right there in the snow, with me on my stomach, face down on the trunk of the Impala.
“We’ll be here all night until you climax, so you decide if you want to enjoy it as much as you were enjoying your little boyfriend on the dance floor.”
I knew he meant it, so I let my inhibitions down. I told myself to just concentrate on having sex with Shay. It must have been about twelve minutes or more and it was all over. Could I have faked it? No. Shay always knew. Well, I can honestly say that was the only time I had sex with Shay that my temperature didn’t reach 278.5 degrees. I was freezing.
“Pull up your panties. Pull down your skirt. Straighten yourself up,” Shay ordered. Then he took my arm and said, “We’re going back in, and I don’t want to see you out of your chair the rest of the night, unless it’s to go to the restroom.”
I was in shock. Shay just didn’t treat me like that. I was also numb from the cold. He parked me in my chair and was off to be with all his friends. Maybe seeing me with someone else had triggered him to think about Frank, I thought. Maybe that was something he’d been holding back that surfaced because of the hard liquor.
Karen asked where we’d gone and I said something to the affect that we’d gone out to get some air. I was really pissed at Shay. But this is where I knew when to shut, and just let it pass until he was sober. I remember he wouldn’t let me drive home; he drove. Yes, he was a good driver, but the fact is, he was drunk, and he drove fairly fast. I noticed him turn and look at me several times while he drove. Then he pulled into the driveway of someone’s farm and parked.
“Come here, princess,” he said gently, pulling me across the front seat of the car, and putting both his arms around me. “I’m sorry, but you just drive me crazy. I can’t stand the thought of anyone touching you. Whenever we walk into a room all the guys look at you.”
“I don’t see that,” I said.
“Well, I do,” he snapped. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the table to kiss you at midnight. I was so mad at you. I couldn’t. But I want to kiss you now.” And he did, a long, tender, loving kiss.
Now this was my Shay. He kissed me for about an hour—long, gentle, sensual kisses. Before we backed out of the driveway to head home, he said over and over, “I love you so much, Callie, and you’re mine.”
I was beginning to realize Shay actually thought he owned me. That New Year’s Eve was a far cry from last year, when I had just had Wessy and Shay surprised me with dinner at the hospital. Maybe that was the best place to be on New Year’s Eve.
Shay was pretty sober by the time we got home. It was as if nothing had happened. Just a Shay and Callie love-in, except, in my heart there were tears. Inside I was crying for the little baby in my womb. But I buried it. I told myself it was a onetime thing and it was over. Everyone has a bad day once in a while. Shay was entitled to one.
***
When Valentine’s Day came around, I got the children each a small candy-filled heart and a cute card. I got Shay a big sexy red heart filled with his favorite—chocolates with Maraschino cherries; plus a very special card telling him how much I loved him, through thick and thin. I thought I’d make a pot roast with potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and onions, plus gravy from the drippings. I’d make an apple crumb pie and a heart-shaped red velvet cake for Kelly and Wessy, using Cookie’s old baking pans.
When Shay left to
go to work that morning, I told him I’d planned supper for around 6:30 that evening. I asked if he’d get in early enough to shower so we could all be at the table by then.
To my surprise, Shay came home at 2:30 that afternoon; showered and came into the kitchen.
“Hi, my princess,” he said.
“Shay, why are you home so early, is something wrong?”
He just looked at me. Then he went to our bar, got out four bottles of hard liquor, and set them on the table. He got the three bottles from the upper kitchen shelf, and the five bottles he had in the cupboard, unopened for guests. He set all the bottles on the kitchen table.
I was standing in front of the kitchen sink watching Shay in action. What is he doing? I thought to myself. He walked over to the sink and put his arms around my waist and kissed me, then he lifted me off the floor and moved me several feet from the front of the sink.
As I stood there watching, Shay took each and every bottle of hard liquor that was in our house and poured it down the kitchen sink. Then he stood there with his hands braced on the counter for a few seconds, just looking down into the sink, like he was thinking. When he turned around, I saw tears rolling down his face.
He walked over to me, put his arms around me, and said, “Callie, I give you my solemn promise that from this day forward I will never again let hard liquor touch my lips. Never another drink of that hard liquor, it does bad things to me, things I don’t like. I did something that hurt you and I don’t excuse it on account of liquor, but it was a contributor, so that crap is out of my life. I love you so much, Callie.”
He cradled me in his arms like a baby. “That is my Valentine’s gift to you. I got you a card and a little something, but I’ll give you that tonight. I don’t ever want to lose you, Callie.”
By now we were both crying and holding each other. To me it was always more than a Valentine’s gift. For me it was Shay acknowledging what he had done. I know he knew it was so bad he couldn’t talk about it. But actions do speak louder than words.
I forgave him.
1967-1968
A Cool Head
By April I still wasn’t showing. Gosh, where was my little baby hiding? I had only gained four and a half pounds, which concerned Doc Sam. But, as he said, everything seemed fine with all the blood tests.
Shay was planning to take a semi-truck trip to the Sand Hills, with a quick jaunt to the Black Hills to pick up a load of grain on the way back (you lost money trucking empty, which they called deadheading, so the Westovers made sure never to do it.)
To my amazement, Shay asked if I would like to go along. He said we’d only be gone a couple of days, and promised I’d be safe.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby,” he assured me.
Walking through the master suite on his way to his desk, Shay saw all my suitcases on the floor. I had packed a dozen pairs of jeans, over a dozen tops, tennis shoes, flats, heels, boots, underwear, pajamas and all of my cosmetics.
“Miss Callie, come here,” I heard Shay say while I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom.
I went out to the main sitting area, toothbrush in my mouth and gave him a ‘what?’ look.
“Can you tell me what all this stuff is,” Shay asked.
“That's what I'm taking on the truck trip," I answered with a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Honey, we may be taking a semi, but that’s more than it will hold.” Shay shook his head in amazement. “You only need two pairs of jeans, if that, a couple tops, a sweatshirt or two, and your boots. We’re driving straight through. When we do stop to sleep, it will be in the sleeper, and believe me, you need to keep your clothes on while we sleep.”
“What? We’re sleeping in our clothes? Why?”
“Darlin’, trust me. Just plan on sleeping in your clothes. I didn’t say there wouldn’t be times you’d have your clothes off, but when we sleep it will be in clothes. The road is a tough life. Never know who you’ll meet and when.”
I ended up taking a small overnight case and one makeup bag.
The night before the big trip, Mom and Dad came by and picked up the kids. We left early the next morning. Wow. I was in a semi-truck. I’d been asking Shay to take me along on one of his trucking trips for years! I couldn’t believe how high up we were sitting. You could just see everything. I was scared, truly scared. But I didn’t let Shay know. I was going to be real good on this trip and make him proud of the way I handled everything. Then maybe he’d take me again. We trucked that whole day except to fuel up and eat, then back on the road.
While we were driving, Shay told me one day he wanted to have his own trucking business.
“You don’t want to work for your dad?” I asked him, surprised. The family business had been good to us.
“I have my dreams, too,” he said.
I filed it away, Shay’s dream; a little part of him I hadn’t known before.
Around 8:30 p.m. we hit the ranch. I couldn’t wait to take a bath. Well, that bubble was soon burst.
“Callie, stay in the truck. I’m going to drive to the barn and some of the hands will unload this feed, then we’re taking right off.”
We unloaded and were on the road again in about an hour and a half. Shay said if I was tired, to crawl in the sleeper, cover up and sleep awhile. I didn’t want to leave him alone in the cab, so I stayed up. Around 5 a.m. Shay pulled into a truck stop and fueled up. He told me to get in the sleeper: we were going to sleep a few hours. I tell you it was smaller than a twin bed, two of us cuddled together. I swear it was the size of an army cot. It wasn’t long before my clothes were off.
“Shay, I thought we had to sleep in our clothes?”
“Who said we’re going to sleep?”
Trucker sex! We had trucker sex! There is only room for one person in bed with trucker sex; the other person has to have the top or bottom, that’s all the room there is.
Afterward, we had to get dressed to go to sleep. Seemed turned around to me. I had promised myself I was going to be a happy trucker woman. My complaints were starting to pile up, but I kept them to myself.
***
We were back on the road and trucking by 9 a.m. Shay said he knew a shortcut to Rapid City, but the road was steep and it was a two lane.
“Well, don’t look at me,” I said.
Let me describe this road. It was narrow; one side had mountains, the other had a steep drop-off, at least a hundred feet down or more. It was overcast that time of the morning, with random patches of snow-packed ice in spots on the road. So far we had only met one car and I will admit, Shay was going fairly slow. I was scared, so I was just being silent, holding on to a handle above the passenger’s side door. I don’t think we even had seat belts back then.
“How many more miles of this, Shay?” I asked tentatively.
“Well, we’ve gone about five miles, Callie, with fifty-five miles to go. So just relax.”
He kept looking out of the side mirrors. Why did he care what was back there? He needed to be watching the road ahead. I was trying so hard, but the scared Callie was starting to show up. Right around then I heard a loud noise. All of a sudden a truck came flying around us, with all this white smoke coming out from behind.
“Shay!” I yelled. “What in hell is he doing?!”
“Callie,” Shay said coolly. “He’s lost his brakes. I have to go get him and help him down this mountain.”
“What! How would you do that? We can’t help him, there’s nothing you can do!” I cried hysterically.
“I’ve got to go get him, Callie.”
“What does that mean?”
Shay didn’t answer, just stepped on the gas. He got as close behind the runaway truck as he could, then started to pull out to go around him.
“Shay, no! We’ll be killed! I’m pregnant! We have babies at home. We’ll never see them again if you do this!”
The road was curving, still with that steep drop off. I just knew this was where we were going to die: o
n a two-lane road in the Black Hills, trying to take a shortcut to save time. I was going ballistic.
“Get in the sleeper right now, Callie,” Shay said coolly, “and brace yourself. He may have babies too. I have to do this or he’s dead.”
I did as he said. At first I was screaming and crying. Then I just shut, and started praying, asking God to let me see my babies again. All of a sudden I got this real peaceful feeling. I heard a terrible grinding sound, punctuated by a large thump. The truck seemed to be bumping into something. After about six or seven bumps, I could feel we were slowing down.
Samson and Sunset Page 20
