Dreams Unspoken

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Dreams Unspoken Page 4

by R. J. Layer


  “That’s absurd.” Maria laughed.

  “No, I don’t think it is. I watched how she looked at you. And…well…when Matt hugged you, I thought she was going to hug you both.”

  “Oh Kat, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Maria, I think this cowgirl just might be smitten with you.”

  Maria couldn’t believe she couldn’t see it. “She knows I have a child. Surely she would also know that I’m married.”

  “Oh, honey.” Kathleen sipped her wine. “You’re a very attractive woman.”

  “Oh and now you’re flirting with me?” Maria’s cheeks suddenly felt hot at the thought of a woman flirting with her.

  Kathleen chuckled. “Gee, even if I was, I don’t think I would have any time or the energy to follow through. Sorry.”

  “Is that the wine talking?”

  “Probably, or me thinking about something more than being the mother of three.”

  “Would you ever do that—be with a woman?”

  “Lord no! I was kidding. I’m strictly a man-loving woman. How else could I manage living with four of them? I know you and Jack have been together a long time, but be careful around this woman, Maria.”

  Maria cringed. She wasn’t born in the Middle Ages. She knew how gay women were stereotyped, and Jo Marchal just didn’t fit with that image.

  “Maria?”

  “I heard you, and don’t worry, Kat. I don’t intend to complicate my marriage with an affair and certainly not with a woman. Listen, I’ll let you go. I’m beat. Too much driving today.”

  “Call me if you need help this weekend.”

  “Thanks, Kat, I will.”

  As she tidied her home office to wrap up her day, Maria looked at the card attached to the horse farm file. Jo Marchal might be a lesbian, as Kathleen suspected, but there was no way she had any romantic interest in Maria. She opened the file to the note with two more properties listed. She’d send the email in the morning. She turned off the light, quietly peeked in at her son and went to bed.

  Jo didn’t sleep well in her old bed. Despite her restless sleep, she woke precisely at five and was having coffee at the kitchen table when her dad came in at six thirty. He poured his own coffee and sat down.

  “You’re up early, Pops.”

  “Don’t make good sense to sleep your life away,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  “I’d have to agree with you.” She might as well be having coffee with a stranger. Why was it so hard to talk to him? They’d been like buddies when Jo was young.

  He took a drink and cleared his throat. “You’re still planning to move up this way?”

  “I looked at several nice properties yesterday.”

  “Market’s just starting to rebound right now. You ought to get a good price on something.”

  “True, but I’ll probably end up paying for it when selling my place.”

  He nodded. “Suppose so.” And with that, the conversation died. They sat in silence until Eileen joined them at seven.

  Jo didn’t stay for breakfast, making an excuse about an appointment. She entered the light highway traffic around seven thirty. All she wanted was to be on her farm.

  Jo arrived home to an email from Maria—she had found two more properties. She sat looking at the info and pictures of the biggest, most expensive one she’d already seen. It wasn’t much over an hour’s drive to her folks, which was doable. And it was less than a half hour from where Maria West lived. She could deny it all she wanted, but Jo knew she’d developed a bit of a crush on the married mom. Well, Maria wouldn’t be the first unattainable woman she’d felt this way about.

  She spent the remainder of the day helping the guys muck out stalls and out in the pasture with her horses. When she finally made it back to her office, she was thrilled to have a voice mail from Maria asking if she’d received the email and was interested in seeing either one of the other properties.

  Following a late dinner Jo settled out on the porch, debating whether to call Maria back so late. Long moments of back and forth passed before she decided to go for it.

  After Maria’s warm greeting, Jo said, “Hope I’m not calling too late.”

  “No, I was doing a little work on the computer.”

  “Well, I figured I should let you know I got the email. Both places sound like what I’m looking for, but I’m not sure how soon I’ll be getting back up that way.”

  “I understand. You’ve got my number, call me.”

  “And what shall I call you?”

  Maria chuckled. “You’re quite amusing, Jo Marchal. Do you have any interest in the properties you looked at yesterday?”

  “Possibly, but I’ve got to get a few things in order down here before I can get too serious about picking my new place.” Plus she needed to know the outcome of her dad’s tests before totally uprooting herself. She knew she was already leaning heavily toward one place, but she was enjoying the attention Maria was bestowing on her.

  “Well, of course you do.” Jo thought she could listen to the sound of Maria’s voice forever. “If you have any questions at all or need any further information, please let me know.”

  “That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  Glad that she had found the courage to call, Jo leaned her head back and soaked in the country quiet. Eyes closed, she played through the clips of Maria West she had stored in her mind.

  Maria considered Kathleen’s appraisal of Jo Marchal and decided the cowgirl’s sexuality didn’t change her opinion of the woman she was getting a glimpse of. Jo made her laugh and forget the difficulties in her own life, and she wanted more people in her life besides Kathleen who could do that. Heaven knows Jack had barely given her a reason to even smile in longer than she could remember.

  Chapter Three

  For a distraction on Monday, Jo worked with one of the boarded horses. She’d just returned the horse to its stall when her phone began vibrating. Racing out of the stable, she didn’t connect the call until she was fifty feet beyond.

  “Hello…Mom?”

  There was a brief pause. “Yes, it’s me, Jo Lynn.” Her voice quivered.

  Jo’s stomach knotted. “Mom?” Jo heard her sniff.

  “It’s—” Her mom couldn’t muffle the sob.

  Jo ran toward the house. “Oh God, Mom, I’m driving up there. I’ll be on the road as soon as I can grab a few things.”

  Her mom sucked in a deep breath and finally spoke. “No, there’s nothing you can do.”

  The knot tightened in Jo’s stomach. “I can be there, I don’t know…be there.”

  “Really, Jo Lynn, there’s nothing you can do at this point.”

  Tears streamed down her face. She cleared her throat. “So what exactly did they say?”

  “It’s in his pancreas.” Her mom seemed to gain a tiny measure of control.

  Jo didn’t make it to the door. She dropped in one of the chairs on the porch. With elbows on her knees, she lowered her head. She didn’t know much about cancer, but she knew this was one of the worst. She felt as though she might throw up. Her stomach churned and burned.

  “We have an appointment with the oncologist Thursday. We’ll know more about this whole thing then.”

  There were dozens of questions flying around in Jo’s mind, but she only asked one. “What time?”

  “What?”

  “What time is the appointment on Thursday?”

  “Ten o’clock.” Eileen sounded distracted.

  “I’m coming up and going with you. I’ll be there Wednesday evening some time.”

  “That’s really not necessary dear.” Her voice was distant.

  “Didn’t you tell me I don’t need an invitation?” Jo held her breath, but her mom said nothing. “I’m part of this family and I’m coming Wednesday night. Can I please talk to him?”

  Eileen sighed. “Oh dear, I don’t think that’s a good idea now. He’s in the den with the door closed. I think he needs this time to himself.”

  Jo co
uldn’t begin to imagine what he must be going through. They’d fallen so out of touch over the last twenty years. “All right.”

  “I should go now, Jo Lynn. I need to think about doing something for our dinner tonight.”

  Jo thought she sounded undone or in a haze. “Sure—Mom?”

  “Hum…”

  Jo swallowed the lump in her throat. “Will you tell Pops I love him and I’ll see him Wednesday?” She thought her tears started again, when in actuality they’d never stopped.

  “Of course, dear. Drive carefully.”

  “I love you, Mom.” Jo nearly whispered the words, unsure that her mom had even heard her and then all was silent.

  She slumped back in the chair. She was only thirty-six, and, granted her dad was seventy-four, that wasn’t old by today’s standards. He was too young to leave her and her mom. He’d given the Postal Service forty years of dedication and had spent the five following years working part-time at a local hardware store for one of his fishing buddies. He only retired completely four years ago. How could life be this unfair? And what would become of her mom without him? The tears continued steadily as she went inside to the kitchen cupboard that held a few bottles of liquor. She pulled out an unopened bottle of Kentucky bourbon. She tried recalling who’d given it to her during a holiday visit last year as she poured three fingers in a glass.

  In the living room she plopped into her comfy old chair. The first drink gagged her. She waited several minutes before taking another. It went down only slightly easier, the warm burn sliding down to her already churning stomach. Whiskey was probably a bad idea. She should have guzzled a couple of beers. She took one more drink, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  Once the alcohol made it to her head she allowed her mind to drift away. She was riding in a pasture, drinking in the sense of freedom it gave her. She always felt safe and comforted there, astride a horse. And she stayed there, in her mind, until the glass slipped from her hand and hit the floor, startling her back to reality. She took the empty glass to the kitchen and got a beer. Back out on the porch, she called Cecile.

  “Hey, darlin’! You callin’ to give me a big ol’ fat commission?”

  Jo took a gulp of beer. “Yep. Put her on the market, ‘cause I’m movin’ to Ohio.”

  “What’s goin’ on hon? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  Jo drew on every bit of self-control she could muster. “Family stuff. You know how that’s always been.”

  “I do. So why you movin’ closer? You gonna rub their faces in it ‘til they give in an’ embrace your lifestyle?”

  “My dad…” Jo heaved a sigh and cleared her throat. “He’s sick, Cil, real sick and I need to go back home and try to mend fences.”

  “Ah, darlin’ I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Will you at least come visit me?”

  “You gonna have any good hot spots up thata way?”

  “For you, Cil, I’ll find one.”

  Cecile snorted. “Count me there, darlin’. Meanwhile I’ll get you listed ASAP. And Jo, if there’s anythin’ you need…”

  “Thanks, Cil. I’ll be talking to you.”

  Jo finished the beer, leaving the empty can beside the chair, and wandered out to the stable.

  “Any idea where Tom is?” she asked the first hand she came across.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He shook his head.

  The tack room was empty, but one of the two-way radios was missing, so she picked up another and keyed it.

  “Tom, you on the radio?”

  She waited and nothing. Finally there was a crackle of static. Tom’s voice was faint. She strained to hear him.

  “I’m riding the lower pastures, checkin’ fences. What’s up?”

  “Would you stop in and see me when you get back in, please?”

  “Sure thing, Jo. Anything wrong?”

  “I need to give you an update.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  She returned the radio to its holder and returned to the house, poured more bourbon and went to her office. She spun her chair around to gaze out the window. She had an unobstructed view of the pasture north of the stable where several of her boarders grazed and a part of the gravel lot containing Tom’s and two other pickup trucks. She sipped the bourbon, hoping to numb her mind so she wouldn’t have to think about the worst thing she was going to face in her life. She had thought that losing Claire was the most devastating thing she’d have to endure. Hell, at least Claire was still living, breathing and enjoying life somewhere. Given the distance between her and her parents, she hadn’t considered what losing either one of them might feel like. She took another drink. It sucked to feel.

  Eventually she turned around, logged her computer on and found an email from Maria West. To make his farm more enticing for a buyer, an owner was willing to make a concession on one of the properties Jo had looked at. The woman’s tenacity inspired a brief smile. She pulled up the color photos of the big farm, which was outside of Midland, where Maria lived. That’s where she wanted to be when she went home again.

  A knock on the doorframe brought her out of her daydreaming. Tom stood in the doorway holding the beer can she’d left on the porch.

  “I knocked outside, didn’t hear nothin’ so I came on in.” He raised the can. “You had a party and didn’t invite me an’ the boys.” He grinned.

  Tom was handsome in a rugged sort of way. He forever had a hat indentation in his thick wavy brown hair, and at least two days of beard growth. His brown eyes reminded Jo of a doe’s eyes, soft and trusting. It was such a stark contrast to his well-muscled six-foot-plus frame. Jo noticed him eyeing the glass that still contained bourbon. She waved him in.

  “Have a seat. I’ve got some kinda bad news.” He tossed his hat on the coffee table and dropped on the couch. She took a seat a few feet away. She couldn’t chance looking in his eyes when she broke the news. “I’m selling the farm.” She braced herself when she saw his head jerk out of the corner of her eye.

  “Damn! Sure wasn’t ‘spectin’ that.”

  “Man, Tom, I’m sorry. I wish things could be different.” She took a moment. “You and the boys do a heck of a job around here. I promise to make sure the new owner knows how valuable you are to running this place.”

  “Man, I’ll sure be hatin’ t’ see you go.”

  Jo felt the lump growing in her throat. “Me too, Tom.”

  Tom had been like a surrogate big brother to Jo the last six years. He’d come on board from almost the beginning, and they’d worked hand in hand, reviving the old horse farm. From mending fences to filling the loft with hay bales, Tom had been right there with her. She wanted to take him with her now, but she knew the likelihood was slim that he could relocate his family. Tom was forty, married half his life and had two teenage girls. They’d hogtie their dad and drag him behind a horse until he relented if he tried to move them away from their childhood home. They were strong willed and as stubborn as their old man.

  He picked up his hat. “I s’ppose that’s why the trips up north the last few weeks.”

  Jo nodded. She wasn’t sure if she could do this and not cry. She lowered her head. She didn’t want Tom to see if she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.

  “My dad’s real sick. I need to be closer to home to help out.”

  Wet spots formed on her jeans where the tears dropped. She had mentioned to Tom a few times about the less than amicable relationship she had with her folks.

  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Anything I can help with, just ask.” He stood and smacked his hat against his leg. “I mean it…anything.”

  Jo wiped her shirtsleeve across her eyes. “Would you mind breaking the news to the guys?”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Sitting back in the silence, she asked herself how she’d ever find the strength to get through this.

  * * *

  She did her best to avoid everyone at the farm the next day or two and by mid-afternoon
on Wednesday was packing an overnight bag in preparation for leaving. Checking her email one last time, she found another one from Maria West. Again the content was simple. It said only that she was touching base with Jo and if she had any questions or needed any info she should give her a call. Jo smiled. She’d do that.

  She timed her departure so she’d arrive about bedtime. She didn’t feel up to dealing with much tonight. The porch light came on as she made her way up the tree-lined street, signaling that it was time to turn in and her mom was leaving the light on for her. She stopped a few houses away, turned off the truck and waited for half an hour. Hoping they were asleep, she let herself in, tiptoed down the hall and quietly set her bag on the floor in the darkness of her room. A sudden sound startled her.

  “I was beginning to worry about you,” her mom’s voice said softly.

  Jo flipped on the bedside lamp. Her mom looked small in the doorway. Jo wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be okay.

  “Sorry to be so late. I was trying not to wake you.”

  “It’s all right, I wasn’t asleep.” She crossed her arms over the front of her nightgown and Jo realized just how fragile she appeared.

  Jo sat on the edge of the bed. “Would you like to talk?”

  Her mom lowered her head for a second before looking back at Jo. Pain filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Jo stood. “Maybe we can make some tea and sit out in the swing for a little bit.” Eileen nodded. Jo tried to take over in the kitchen, but her mom wouldn’t allow it.

  “I need to do the things I know how to do to keep my mind busy.” Eileen pulled her sweater over her shoulders and they settled into the swing on the patio. The silence would have been deafening were it not for the sounds of the spring peepers.

  Jo finally broke the quiet. “I found a place I want to buy about an hour from here. I’ll be a lot closer if you need anything.”

  “You really don’t need to uproot your life, Jo Lynn. Your father and I will manage this as we’ve managed every other trying time in our lives.” She didn’t need to say it. Jo knew that the “trying time” she was referring to was the first Easter weekend after she’d graduated from college.

 

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