Honky Tonk Christmas

by Carolyn Brown

  “Amazing how attentive pregnancy makes them, isn’t it?” Jenny sipped the coffee.

  “A hissy will do the same thing,” Fiona said.

  Molly smiled.

  “What’s so funny, Momma?” Sharlene asked.

  “Our ladies of the round table talks. They always make everything all better, don’t they?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” three voices said in unison.

  “What are we yes ma’aming?” Lisa asked from the living room.

  “The fact that everything is all better today. Miles just made coffee for Jenny and Bart helped carry in the food,” Sharlene said.

  “Well, hot damn! Maybe my problem will solve itself today too.”

  “Does Mr. Moody Grandson know who is invited to spend the day here?”

  “No, I thought I’d surprise him,” Lisa said.

  Someone knocked on the door and Sharlene spun around to look at the rest of the family. No one ever knocked. They just yelled and came through the living room, dining room, and back to the kitchen.

  “I’ll get it. It has to be the Alvarez family,” Lisa said.

  Sharlene followed her to see what a thirteen-year-old little Mexican girl had that had set Creed’s hormones into overdrive.

  Same thing that set yours on a roller coaster, girl, she told herself. It’s pure old sex appeal. Don’t matter if a person is thirteen or thirty or sixty-three. If the other party lights up the hormone drive, they are the best thing since ice cream on a stick.

  Lisa kept up a running chatter as she led the way to the kitchen. “Come right in. Take the food stuff to the kitchen and then you kids can all go outside. Maybe you can talk Creed into saddling a couple of horses for y’all to ride today, Christina. And the rest of you children will find someone your age out in the yard, I’m sure. Jeff is firing up a grill with the rest of the men. Just follow us through the kitchen and you can go out the back door.”

  Enrique made a hasty retreat away from the women when Lisa pointed to the back door. Kitchen and women were not his idea of a holiday. Men grilling meats and drinking ice tea was a much better choice. Three children, all younger than Christina, hurried out to where the other children played. Sharlene watched Creed’s face from the window. When he saw Enrique and the Alvarez children, his gaze locked on the house.

  Christina hung back to help her mother and the ladies until Lisa finally said, “Girl, get on out there with the rest of the young folks. We’ve got lots of help.”

  She looked at her mother, Martina.

  “Go on. Shoo. You’ll grow up too quick as it is and have to cook and run after children. Go and have a good time,” Martina said.

  Both mother and daughter were short, had long dark hair and big brown eyes. Their faces were round and their skin slightly toasted like coffee with only a dollop of pure cream. Martina had crow’s-feet beginning around her eyes and a thicker middle. Christina’s red tank top was tucked into jean shorts that nipped in at her tiny waist.

  “Are you sure?” Christina asked.

  “Yes, I am sure that I can uncover these tamales all by myself,” Martina said.

  Sharlene stayed glued to the window. Creed’s whole face lit up when he saw Christina. He waved and motioned her over to the fence he leaned against. She joined him but kept a foot of space between them. Sharlene remembered back when she was about seven years old and Lisa first came to the farm with her parents for Sunday dinner. She and Jeff had to have been about that same age and they’d both had the same timid yet joyful expression on their faces. Was history about to repeat itself?

  Lisa pretended to wash her hands. “What happened?”

  Sharlene took a step to the side. “See for yourself.”

  “He reminds me so much of Jeff at that age,” Lisa said.

  “Well, she damn sure don’t remind me of you. You were all legs and had long blond braids that you hated and braces. You looked like a young colt,” Sharlene said. Her gaze went from Creed and Christina to Holt. He fit in so well with her brothers and their families that it was scary.

  “I did not look like a horse. Good lord, you’re the writer. Can’t you think of something nicer than that?” Lisa asked.

  “Hey, hey, we’re here,” Matthew called from the door.

  Then people began to arrive en masse. In-laws, the neighbor Wayne who Molly made a great show of introducing to Sharlene before she sent him to the backyard, Dorie and her two kids, grandparents, and the ladies from the Circle. Everyone brought so much food that Clara had to drag out a folding table and set it up to hold all the dishes.

  Sharlene knew them all except the Alvarez family and Wayne, but she wondered how Holt fared trying to put a name with everyone’s face. It wouldn’t be unlike the first day she arrived in Iraq and everyone introduced themselves. It took her weeks to get names and faces together and to stop calling everyone, “Hey you.”

  At exactly noon, Molly nodded at Claud when he poked his head in the back door, and he rang the dinner bell hanging on the back porch.

  “Everyone gather round and we’ll have grace before we turn the stampede loose on the food,” he said. “Who’s the youngest child we have here today?”

  Everyone looked around. “I guess it’s Betsy,” Fiona said.

  Claud motioned for her to join him below the dinner bell. “Then Betsy will give thanks for us.”

  She marched up to his side and bowed her head.

  “Speak up so everyone can hear,” Claud whispered.

  “Now I lay me down to sleep,” she said loudly. “And God bless Momma and Daddy and Gramps and Granny and the kittens in the barn. And oh, yeah, bless this dinner too. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Claud said. “That was a good grace. Now you kids get in line first so your mothers can help you. And then the adults can fix their plates.”

  Holt took charge of Waylon right behind Matthew who had a hand on Matty’s shoulder. Sharlene hugged Judd up to her side and got in line behind Jenny who would be helping Kayla.

  When the children were all seated, the men navigated toward the buffet tables. Sharlene’s maternal grandfather threw an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. “What’s this I hear about you owning a beer joint? In my younger days I mighta slipped off down there and danced around the floor with you, but Grandma would skin me alive if I did that these days.”

  Sharlene gasped. “You went to beer joints?”

  “Back before I met your Grandma, I did a few times. I like the music and there’s enough German in me to like a brew every so often. But Grandma was a preacher’s daughter and I give it all up when I fell in love with her. Guess you took after me after all.”

  “News travels fast. I only told Momma last night,” Sharlene said.

  “Well, I already knew all about it. I was on the Internet and found that book you wrote. The thing written about it said you got the inspiration from your beer joint called the Honky Tonk. Don’t worry. I didn’t even tell Grandma. But Matthew came to help me with chores last night and he told me all about it. I didn’t let on I already knew.” He grinned big enough that the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. His hair was still as thick as it had been in his younger days but it was snow white. He wore bibbed overalls but they were starched and ironed. Grandma wouldn’t ever let him out of the house without ironed clothes. They’d throw her out of the Ladies Circle if she committed such a sin.

  “You have a computer?” Sharlene was amazed.

  “Yeah, I got one last year. Didn’t think an old dog like me could learn how to operate it, did you? I got Creed to show me how. He’s a real whiz kid on one. It’s my turn to get my plate. You take care of yourself down there. Don’t let no drunks hurt you. I’d hate to have to come to Mingus and whup someone.”

  Sharlene smiled up at him. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got a bouncer as big as a refrigerator who wouldn’t let a fly light on me. And Grandpa, just between you and me, I can really take care of myself.”

  “I reckon you could or they wouldn�
��t have sent you over there to that war place two times. You must’ve been good at takin’ care of more than just yourself. I’m glad you got a good bouncer. I’d like to meet him sometime. I like the feller you brought with you too. Matthew says he’s a real stand-up guy. He’ll be a fine match for Dorie. Grandma already has them talking to each other,” Grandpa said and then disappeared into the group of men folks loading up their plates.

  Sharlene looked around quickly. Sure enough Dorie had plastered herself up to Holt’s side while Grandpa was telling her about his shady past. Had Grandma instigated that by sending Grandpa to keep her busy?

  Holt caught her gaze and nodded.

  Dorie was all dolled up in her flowing multicolored tiered skirt and peasant blouse showing three inches of cleavage and Sharlene felt dowdy in her miniskirt and boots. She glanced out the window and noticed that Dorie’s kids were sitting at the same table with Judd and Waylon. Ruth was talking to Judd a mile a minute and Waylon was listening to John tell some tall tale that involved lots of hand waving.

  Dorie had never been a bit bashful or backward. Sharlene had always admired her nerve until she cut in line right in front of Holt.

  “Y’all will have to excuse me for lining up with the fellers. I haven’t had a bite of breakfast and I’m starving. I don’t think this big old handsome cowboy will mind, will you, darlin’?” She blinked her long lashes up at him.

  Sharlene would have gladly yanked every one of those bottle blond hairs from her head. It was the first time since she’d gotten home from Iraq that she seriously considered loading her army rifle. But when Dorie sat beside him at the dinner table, in the only seat left at that table, Sharlene decided that shooting her so-called friend was too easy. She needed to suffer. Maybe a quick roll in honey and sitting her on a bed of ants would be more in order.

  “Come sit beside me.” Jenny touched Sharlene’s arm.

  “Sure,” Sharlene mumbled and wound up sitting right beside Wayne, the neighbor. He was a nice enough looking fellow and so sweet that Sharlene figured she’d smother in the course of one meal. No wonder women didn’t flock to him like flies on a fresh cow patty. He was too damn nice. A woman liked a little bit of strength in a man. Not to the point of abuse but enough that she didn’t feel like she was married to a wimp.

  “So I understand you work for a newspaper in Dallas, Texas. How do you like living in the big city after being raised in the country?” His voice wasn’t deep and resonant like Holt’s and his eyes didn’t glitter.

  Bologna and steak, she thought. Holt is steak and he is bologna. Both are protein and both will keep a woman from going hungry. But it’s not easy to think about a lifetime of bologna when a woman has just kissed a T-bone.

  “Actually, I’ve moved to a town about half the size of Corn,” she said.

  Jenny grinned at her and glanced toward Holt.

  Dorie had finished eating and had her hand over the back of his chair.

  “Is there a newspaper there?” Wayne asked.

  “Not in Mingus. The town doesn’t have a newspaper. It’s a border town that is known for its beer joints. I own and operate one of those beer joints. It’s called the Honky Tonk.”

  His fork stopped midway between his plate and mouth. “You have a funny sense of humor, Sharlene. You said that so seriously I thought you meant it. There’s really not a Mingus, Texas, is there? You’re just making jokes.”

  “No, I’m just painfully honest. Want proof? Hey Judd, where do you go every day?” she asked Judd who sat at the next table.

  “To your house. Uncle Holt is building a bigger beer joint for you so the people won’t have to dance in the parking lot and they’ll buy beer from you. Why do I have to keep tellin’ that?” Judd asked.

  “Because sometimes folks believe a little girl better than a big one,” Sharlene said.

  “For real?” Wayne’s eyes looked twice as big through his thick lens glasses when he opened them wide. He laid his fork down and cocked his head to one side. “Are you really Molly and Claud’s daughter or are these sisters of yours playing a trick on me because I’m the new guy in Corn?”

  “That’s what I do. From eight to two in the morning, six nights a week, I’m a bartender,” she said.

  Wayne’s face went stone still and serious. “Does Molly and Claud know this?”

  “They do now. Now tell me, Wayne, what is it that you did before you came to Corn and bought a farm?”

  “I’ve always been a farmer. I had a bigger operation in Nebraska.”

  “Why’d you sell out and move here?”

  “I wanted a new start,” he said. “Truth is I was engaged to a woman for two years and she called it off. So how long are you staying in Corn?”

  “We’re leaving this afternoon. My other bartender is helping by opening up for me tonight but I’ve got to be home in time to close. This is old jukebox night. You listen to the old country music?” She kept an eye on Dorie’s hand as it crept up to massage Holt’s neck.

  A man on the rebound. A long engagement and she called it off. Why? Was he too nice? And then there’s Dorie, a woman on the rebound. Why couldn’t she and Wayne bump into each other and see stars? Why does she have her hands on Holt? And while I’m asking questions, what in the devil was I thinking, bringing him here?

  Wayne smiled brightly and said, “Oh, yes. Love it. Listen to it on my tractor radio. And used to square dance in Nebraska. I wish they’d get a club started here. I do a little calling when I’m not dancing.”

  “Any good at two-stepping or line dancing?” Jenny asked.

  “No, just square dancing. You ever think about moving back home to Corn?”

  “Hell no!” Sharlene said before she thought.

  Sharlene stood up quickly and picked up empty bread baskets from her table. “Hey, Holt, these are begging to be refilled. Want to help me get some more hot rolls?”

  “Will do. Ours is empty here too. Whoever made these homemade rolls deserves a gold crown,” he said as he gathered up baskets.

  She followed him into the kitchen and helped load a dozen baskets with hot rolls from the trays on the cabinet.

  “So how are things going with Dorie?”

  “She seems nice enough. We’ve been talking about our kids. Seems like she’s got a lot of the same problems I do, except hers are reversed. Her son is the mouthy one and her daughter kind of introverted.”

  Sharlene turned to tell him to watch his back, that Dorie was on the prowl and found him so close that she could smell his aftershave.

  “Did I tell you that you are beautiful today?” he whispered in a soft Texas drawl.

  “No, but you can tell me now.” She looked up.

  He leaned in for a soft kiss and then started stacking baskets of bread up his forearm, holding them in place with his hand.

  “Ready to go face the dragons again?” he asked.

  “I’d rather go to the barn,” she said.

  “Me too.” He grinned.

  When they’d scattered baskets down the tables he took his seat beside Dorie and she went back to Wayne, but every few minutes they exchanged long glances across the yard.

  “Why did I end up sitting beside Wayne?” Sharlene whispered to Clara when Wayne was in conversation with her grandfather sitting across the table from him.

  “Momma arranged it that way so Dorie could sit beside Holt. She thinks that those two have a lot in common and you know what an old matchmaker she is,” Clara said.

  “I told Momma that there might be more between us than friendship. Why would she do that?”

  “After she found out that Holt works for you and what you do, she’s about to give up on you finding a husband. No decent man would marry a cheap barmaid, her words not mine. And she thinks Holt is a fine man and she knows you won’t like Wayne so you’re just here to keep him away from Dorie. Enough said?” Clara smiled at Wayne when he stopped talking to Grandpa.

  Sharlene nodded. “More than enough. She’ll accept what I do
but she don’t like it, right?”

  “In a nutshell.” Clara nodded toward the other table.

  Dorie and Holt were gone. Sharlene’s eyes darted all around the yard before finally spotting them. Dorie was leading Holt across the pasture toward the creek. Molly was right about two things. Holt was decent. Sharlene ran a beer joint. Did that make him too good for her? Pure old mad crept out of her soul and into her heart. Dorie had better enjoy her little walk with Holt Jackson because he was never setting foot in Corn again.

  ***

  Holt listened to Dorie with one ear and wondered how he’d gotten himself in such a predicament. He’d awakened that morning wishing that Sharlene was beside him. He’d relived the night before several times before the kids had bounded in his room and landed on his bed, saying they were starving and asking what time the other children were coming back to play.

  By the time they had breakfast Claud had enlisted his help to get the grills cleaned and set up for dinner. Then the backyard filled up with men and they were barbecuing hot dogs and hamburgers and the sound of children playing filled the yard. Just exactly when Dorie latched onto him was a mystery. He tuned in to what she was saying and tried to listen without thinking about Sharlene.

  “We got married right out of high school and he died a year ago in a hunting accident. He was up in a tree stand and fell. The gun went off and shot him right through the heart. They said that he was gone before he hit the ground. That gives me a little comfort that he didn’t suffer or call out for me,” she said.

  He wasn’t interested in how or when her husband died and wished he’d been fast enough to think up a better excuse. When she’d asked if he would like for her to show him the creek, he’d said that he’d better watch the kids. Truth was, he’d been deep in thought about Sharlene and the night before and had stammered and stuttered like a junior high nerd.

  “Nonsense! Go on with Dorie. She was here at the farm as much as she was home during high school. She and Sharlene were best friends. For a while we thought they might marry best friends but Sharlene got a wild hair and joined the army,” Molly had said.