The Scarlet Thread

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The Scarlet Thread Page 8

by Francine Rivers


  Sierra wasn’t surprised her son made female hearts flutter. Clanton had Alex’s features and coloring, and her light-green eyes. It made for a startling combination that had always attracted attention from the time he was a baby.

  “I really had better go,” Sierra said.

  “At least stay long enough to meet the other mothers.”

  As Marcia Burton put her hand lightly beneath her elbow, Sierra resigned herself to further humiliation.

  All the ladies were polite. Only one looked her over as though she were convinced Sierra had just crawled out of a homeless shelter. Marcia, appearing not to notice, remained warm and friendly to all, while staying close to Sierra’s side.

  But the woman’s efforts did little to ease Sierra’s discomfiture. After what seemed a polite interval of stilted small talk, she made her excuses and left.

  She breathed far easier after driving out the gate and heading down the winding road out of the rarefied air of the Studio City hills to the bank of smog in the flatlands of North Hollywood. One thing was certain: She wouldn’t step foot over the threshold when she returned to pick up Carolyn.

  Sighing, Sierra focused her thoughts on Alex. He actually had an afternoon free, and they were going to spend it together. When he had asked her if she’d like to do so, quick tears of gratitude had sprung to her eyes. It had been so long since they’d really been together, just the two of them. Maybe this would be a chance for them to bridge the chasm that had developed between them. Sierra wasn’t sure if they could, but she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

  When she unlocked the door and went inside, she felt almost lighthearted. “Alex? I’m home,” she called.

  Silence met her.

  “Alex?” she said again, going into the kitchen. The room was empty, but there was a note on the refrigerator. Cold fingers of disappointment closed around her heart as she moved forward and took it down.

  Sierra,

  Steve called. A big client is in town unexpectedly, so we’re taking him out to dinner. I’ll probably be home late.

  That was it. I’m gone; I’ll be home late. No apology. No regret at not being able to spend time with her.

  Angry, Sierra crumpled up the note and tossed it into the garbage. She vacuumed, dusted, and made preparations for dinner for three. She considered changing her clothes before going back to pick up Carolyn, then rebelled against the idea. She was who she was. Besides, even dressed up she wouldn’t fit in with that crowd.

  Steeling herself, she headed back to Studio City. As she pulled up before the palatial house, she saw that all the cars were exactly where they were when she had left three hours before. Apparently, they had all stayed through the entire party, sharing the catered hors d’oeuvres and luncheon and the beautifully decorated cake, and enjoying the magician who had come to make sure the children were properly entertained. She got out of her car as several of the women and their little girls came out, each child holding a bag of party favors.

  “Our girls are playing in the family room,” Marcia said, greeting her at the front door.

  “I’m sorry if I’m late.”

  “You’re not late at all. Come in, please. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Thank you, but I’d better not. I’m in something of a rush. I need to pick up Clanton soon.”

  Marcia’s expression flickered with understanding and disappointment; it was an excuse, and both women knew it. “I’ll show you the way,” she said quietly. “Pamela loved the treasure box and scarf.”

  Polite to the end, Sierra thought sarcastically, then felt a twinge of shame for her critical attitude. Shrew, she chastised herself. Marcia’s shown you nothing but kindness. But then, maybe you don’t know how to react to kindness anymore. . . .

  The girls were leaning close together and talking like little conspirators. To Sierra’s surprise and pleasure, Pamela was bedecked in the scarf and jewelry. Carolyn laughed happily at what her friend was saying and then noticed her. “Oh, Mommy,” she said, obviously disappointed. “Couldn’t I stay a while longer? Please?”

  “We have to go, Carolyn.”

  “Clanton’s staying at—”

  “Now, Carolyn.”

  Carolyn rose obediently. Remembering her manners, she thanked Pamela and her mother for the lovely time and for the bag of party favors and treats.

  “Why don’t we get together sometime?” Marcia said as they walked back upstairs.

  “That’d be nice,” Sierra said, giving the proper innocuous response. She knew sometime meant never. The girls were talking again and going ahead of them out the front door, obviously trying to find another way to delay the inevitable.

  “Are you free Monday?” Marcia said.

  Startled, Sierra looked at her. “Monday?”

  “For coffee,” Marcia said and smiled. “Or tea. Or water. I don’t care.” She laughed at Sierra’s look, then reached out and squeezed her wrist gently. “What I really want to do is get to know you better.”

  She spoke so sincerely, Sierra didn’t doubt her. Quick tears burned her eyes, and she wondered that a casual invitation for coffee could affect her so deeply.

  “Monday sounds perfect.”

  Mister Grayson cum over today, mad as a grizly.

  He said Matthew is going to marry Sally Mae or he is going to shoot him dead. Papa said no son of his is going to marry a harlot. Matthew said Sally Mae is no harlot and they are already married in the eyes of God.

  Lucas laughed and called Matthew a fool. Matthew hit him in the mouth and nocked him down. He got on top of him and kept pounding until Papa pulled him off.

  Mama has not stopped crying for two days.

  Papa said Mister Grayson is sending a rider around to tell every one who comes to camp meeting that his daughter is getting married to Matthew Benjamin McMurray. Papa said he is actin proud about it.

  Mama said some people have no sense of shame.

  Matthew married Sally Mae today. She wore her dead mother’s white wedding dress. I have never seen Matthew look as happy as he did when he put Mama’s ring on her finger.

  Sally Mae almost did not have a ring at all. Papa wud not let Matthew have Grandmama McMurray’s ring. I heard Papa and Matthew yellin at each other in the barn. Matthew said he loves Sally Mae. Papa said no one like Sally Mae was ever going to wear his mother’s ring. He said he wuz sorry he listened to Mama. He said he shud have taken Matthew to Fever River a long time ago to let him larn some facts of life about women and then maybe he wud not have fallen prey to one.

  So Mama give Matthew her own wedding ring. Papa has not said a word to her since.

  I wonder if James is still in Fever River and what he’s doing there.

  I got no time for writing in this journal, but it is the only place I can put down my feelings. And such feelings! Sometimes I think I will burst.

  Mama is sick, bad sick. Sally Mae dont do nothing to help. She and Matt fight all the time. Or rather Sally Mae does all the fighting. He does all the taking. She says she is bored with her life and bored with him. All he does is work in the fields beside Papa and does nothing fun with her. Sometimes I hate her so much I wish her dead. Then she cries and tells me she loves Matthew and wants to be a good wife and I feel guilty. She just dont know how to be good cause she never had a mama like mine who wud not let her be anythin else.

  Mama coughed up blood today. I dont know what to do. Papa dont spend much time with her because he cries every time he does. He said he can’t bear to see her suffering. He told her he dont know what to do without her. He dont believe in God. He dont believe in nothing but what he can do for himself and he can’t do nuthin for Mama.

  Mama said today she is not afraid to die and I shud not be afraid to let her. She smiles when I sit with her. She says she is getting closer to God every minute. I tell her we need her more than God does, but she says maybe she is in the way. In the way of what I asked, but she coughed so long and hard she had no strength to tell me.

 
Mama died today. She said she could smell the lilacs through the window. She wanted to hold some. So I went outside and cut some for her. When I came back, she was dead.

  I was with her three days knowing her time was near. Why did she send me away right then?

  Papa and Matthew buried Mama yesterday morning. We could not wait another day for Lucas to cum home from hunting. Sometimes he is gone for a week.

  The sun is going down again and Papa is still sitting by the grave with his jug.

  I dont think much of Sally Mae being the woman of the house. She dont cook. She dont clean. She just tells me what to do. Matt says she is older and has the right because Sally Mae is his wife. I told him that dont make her my mother. He has never slapped me before. I told him he had better not do it again.

  Papa spends all his time in the fields and dont know whats going on in this house. Only time he comes in is when the sun is going down. Then he just sits before the fire with his jug of whiskey drinkin until he dont know nothin anyway.

  Matt went huntin with Lucas. I herd Lucas talking to Sally Mae before they went off. He said maybe he wud take his brother to Fever River and show him the sights. They have been gone five days. Sally Mae dont say much. Papa dont say nothing. Sometimes I feel like the old hoot owl and this journal is my only company.

  Matt and Lucas came home today. They had no meat with them. Sally Mae did not say anything. So I asked Matt if they went to Fever River. He said yes. I asked him if he saw James. He said no. I asked him what it was like in Fever River and he said there were too many people. He did not say anything after that. Lucas wuz smirking at Sally Mae. He said they learned a lot while they was in Fever River, but he did not say what they learned. Sally Mae did not look well. She said she was going outside for air. Matt went out to help Papa in the fields.

  When I went outside to do the wash I saw Lucas talking to Sally Mae. When he laffed at her, she slapped his face. He slapped her back and she ran off crying.

  Papa sent Lucas to Fever River with the corn. Matt did not go with him this time because Sally Mae wanted him home. Papa said thar will be enuf money to pay the taxes, buy supplies, and put some by for hard times.

  I gotta bad feelin, but Papa dont listen.

  Lucas came bak from Fever River today wile I was workin in the garden. He and Papa had words. Lucas said the corn did not sell well this year, that he paid the taxes but thar was not much left for supplies. Papa said he is lying. He said Lucas must have spent the money gaming or on women. Lucas said it is a poor thing when a father dont trust his own blood.

  Lucas is gone. He tuk Papas best horse and gun and left before sun up. I never herd such cussing as Papa did when he found out what he dun. Matt said he did not think Lucas wud come back this time. Papa said he wud kill him if he did. Papa said nothing after that. He did not eat breakfast or supper. All he does is wurk in the fields and drink.

  I wud not grieve if I never saw Lucas again. As far back as I can remember, ther has been a mean streak in him Papa never cud beet out. Mama tried to talk it out of him. But I dont think Lucas ever herd a word she said. Mama believed we shud treat others the way we want to be treated. Lucas saz that is fools thinkin. He says take what you want or you dont get nothing.

  So I guess Lucas tuk what he wanted. He tuk Papas money. He tuk Papas horse. He tuk Papas gun. The only things he did not take were Papas land and Papas house. And he wud have tuk them too if he cud have put them in a saddle bag.

  Sally Mae is going to have a babee come winter. Matt is happy about it. It is nice to hear him laugh again.

  Papa dont say much about it. Papa dont say much about anything these days.

  Today is my birthday. I am fourteen. Not even Matt made mention of it. I guess he forgot jest like Papa.

  Chapter 7

  Sierra sent the tennis ball zinging across the net. It bounced far right of where Marcia was waiting for it, gaining her the winning point. “Yes!” she cried and jumped into the air, raising her racket in triumph.

  “Devious,” Marcia said in good humor. “Since you won, you have to jump the net.”

  “Not on your life,” Sierra said, laughing. She walked over to the bench and picked up her towel. Dabbing the sweat from her face, she grinned at Marcia as she walked over to drink from a bottle of Calistoga water. “Maybe now I’ll be some competition for you.”

  “You’re getting better every time you play,” Marcia said, her tone enigmatic.

  “You’re a good teacher.” Sierra bent down to roll the cotton overshirt she had left on the bench. She tucked it into her canvas bag and set the racket on top.

  “Well, I’m not teaching you anymore,” Marcia laughed.

  Two men entered the court, one older than the other, both dressed in white tennis shorts and shirts, both reeking of affluence.

  “First time I’ve ever seen you lose, Marcia,” said the younger and more attractive of the two.

  “She tossed the game,” Sierra said with a laugh.

  “Not likely,” he said, a grin making him even more handsome. “Marcia puts her all into everything she does.” He winked at Marcia and then looked pointedly at Sierra. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  Marcia put her towel around her neck. “Sierra, this is Ronal Peirozo, a longtime family friend. Ron, this is Sierra Madrid. She’s married to Alex Madrid, game designer for Beyond Tomorrow.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, extending his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Sierra felt cool strength in his fingers as they closed firmly around her hand. His eyes were an intense blue, and the way they rested on her was decidedly unsettling. He introduced her to the older gentleman with him, but, flustered, she failed to catch his name.

  Marcia grinned at her as they walked along the pathway to the dining room. “Don’t be embarrassed. Ron has that effect on most women.”

  “What effect?”

  Marcia laughed. “Fine. We’ll play it your way.”

  When Alex had been given the club membership as a Christmas bonus, Sierra had resisted coming to Lakeside Country Club. Not until Marcia invited her for lunch one afternoon had she even admitted being a member. “You’re kidding. And you don’t go?”

  “No. I don’t go.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Sierra. What are you going to do? Sit home watching soap operas for the rest of your life? I’ve never known anyone to be so resistant to success and the benefits it brings.”

  Resigned, Sierra had accompanied her to the club. She had had so much fun meeting Marcia’s friends, it had become a part of her daily routine. She met Marcia for tennis or golf or racquetball, depending on the weather, worked up a sweat, showered, and then relaxed for a few hours. Sometimes they sat in the salon and had a manicure or pedicure. More often than not, they joined others in the women’s lounge for drinks and lunch.

  As they reached the patio outside the dining room, Sierra saw that Nancy Berne and Edie Redmond were already sitting at the table they usually occupied. It was considered a primo spot, located as it was near the windows overlooking the golf course, but then, having the best was par for the course for these women. Both were married to high-powered executives. Beside them, Ashley Worrell—who was recently divorced from her well-known, extremely wealthy plastic surgeon husband—was sipping mineral water. Lorraine Sheedy, a close friend of Ashley’s, sat next to her, looking grim. Lorraine’s husband was an attorney who had made a fortune handling divorce cases for movie stars. The last of what Marcia jokingly called “The Rat Pack” was Meredith Schneider, an heiress who was four-times divorced, five-times married.

  As Sierra took her usual seat near the tall ferns, she greeted the others with easy camaraderie. Wylie, the waiter who always took care of their orders, came to the table. He picked up Meredith’s empty martini glass, replaced the napkin, and set a fresh martini before her.

  “Thank you, Wylie,” Meredith said, and Sierra could tell she had been drinking for some time. Meredith smiled benevolently around the table
. “You girls going to have something? My treat.”

  Marcia glanced at her watch. “It’s not even noon, Merry. Aren’t you starting a little early today?”

  “You’re an hour too late with your warning, dear.” She glanced at her Rolex. “Eleven forty-five. If you wish to be legalistic, wait fifteen minutes. Then you may order a drink.”

  Marcia ordered a gin and tonic with a twist of lime.

  Nancy and Edie both ordered espresso. Ashley grimaced delicately. “How many times do I have to tell you girls what caffeine does to the skin?” she said and ordered a rum punch.

  “And rum’s good for it?” Nancy said, amused.

  “Rum is made from sugarcane and molasses, both natural substances. Add a little fruit juice and you have a nutritious noontime libation.”

  “And a buzz,” Edie said dryly.

  Lorraine quietly ordered a double Scotch on the rocks. Everyone at the table looked at her in surprise. She never drank anything but white zinfandel. Meredith popped the green olive into her mouth, eyes amused.

  Sierra ordered an iced tea. She had learned early on that she didn’t like the taste of alcohol or its dizzying effects.

  They talked of mundane things until the drinks were served. Lorraine finished the double Scotch with two swallows. Shuddering, she set the empty glass down before Wylie had taken three steps from the table.

  “Feeling better?” Marcia said softly, astonished.

  “Wylie,” Lorraine said firmly, “bring me another, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, brows lifting in surprise.

  “Doing some serious drinking today, are we?” Meredith cooed.

  Lorraine gave a humorless laugh, her eyes glittering. “Frank’s having an affair.”

  Ashley set her rum punch down hard and uttered a short, exceedingly foul word. “I swear. All men are pigs.”

  “Darling,” Meredith said, too inebriated to be distressed by anything. “You’re looking at it all wrong. Haven’t you read Men Are Just Desserts?” She looked at Lorraine. “Did he fess up, sweetie, or did you have to pry the information out of him with a crowbar?”

 

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