by Beth Wiseman
Chapter Six
On Friday, Darlene was feeling a bit down. She didn’t think she’d made much headway with Cara this week. But she was looking forward to tomorrow evening, Grace’s sixteenth birthday dinner. Surprisingly, Grace had invited only one friend for the celebration—her science partner, Skylar. Skylar had been to the house the past couple of nights, and she and Grace had stayed upstairs working on their science project until fairly late. It seemed an unlikely friendship, but Grace said Skylar didn’t have many friends, so she wanted to invite her. Darlene had asked Layla to join them. And Chad’s new friend, Cindy, would be there. She couldn’t wait to give Grace her present at the party. She’d certainly earned it.
Darlene looked on as Cara worked through a math problem. Cara hadn’t argued about doing the work this week, but every time Darlene had tried to talk to her—about anything—Cara held up her fingers and tapped them to her thumb, signaling yap, yap, yap. Their afternoons had turned into mundane tasks, and Darlene suspected she’d been overzealous in her hopes to somehow make a difference in Cara’s life.
And every afternoon, Cara’s father had shown up at exactly five o’clock, asking about Cara’s day. Always bad, she would tell her father. He would scowl a bit, then instruct Cara to say good-bye.
Darlene looked at her watch. Fifteen more minutes. She had a splitting headache. Her purse was on the chair beside her, so she reached into it and dug around for a bottle of Tylenol, hoping she didn’t distract Cara too much. Her flip book of family photos fell out, along with the bottle. She popped open the top, poured two pills into her hand, and tossed them in her mouth, wishing she had a glass of water. As she reached for the flip book, Cara’s hand slammed down on hers. Darlene looked at the girl, but Cara only stared at the book as she eased it from underneath Darlene’s hand.
“That’s my family,” Darlene said as Cara ran her finger across the top photo. “That’s my husband, Brad, and that’s Chad, Ansley, and Grace.”
Cara turned to the next photo and gave it the same amount of time, still rubbing her finger across the front. Darlene pointed to Ansley.
“That’s my daughter Ansley. She’s the same age as you are.”
Cara looked up at Darlene, her green eyes glowing, a smile on her face. “You are a mother.”
Darlene smiled, surprised at how clearly and slowly Cara had said the words. “Yes, I’m a mother. And those are my children.”
“Ansley?” Cara touched Ansley’s face in the photo with the tip of her finger.
“Yes, Ansley. She’s twelve years old.” Darlene paused as she watched Cara’s animated expression, her eyes wide. “And you know what? Ansley is raising chickens.”
Cara turned to face Darlene, and she giggled. “Chickens? Ansley’s chickens?”
Darlene laughed, thrilled to be actually talking with Cara. “Yep. They are definitely Ansley’s chickens. Every afternoon after school, Ansley goes and collects the eggs. Do you like eggs?”
“I like Ansley’s eggs.” Cara said it so fast that Darlene could barely understand her. Then she said something else Darlene couldn’t understand.
“Cara, I can’t understand you when you talk so fast. Can you say it nice and slow?”
Cara clamped her eyes closed for a few moments, and Darlene wasn’t sure if she was mad or concentrating.
“Take your time, Cara.”
“I like Ansley’s eggs.” Cara pronounced each syllable slowly and clearly.
“Good.” Darlene smiled, hoping to encourage her to continue, which she did.
“Eggs are from chickens.”
“Yes, they are. And you should see how many eggs we have in our refrigerator. Dozens. Ansley doesn’t want us to eat the eggs.”
Cara started laughing loudly. Darlene had no idea if Cara understood what Darlene was saying, but the sound of Cara’s laughter warmed her heart.
“Well, hello there.”
Darlene jumped at the sound of Dave Schroeder’s voice. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I guess not. So much laughter going on in here.” Then he smiled. A first.
He squatted down between Darlene and Cara. “Can you tell Dad what’s so funny?”
Cara squealed, something Darlene had never heard her do. Both Darlene and her father winced a bit but they both smiled.
“Ansley’s eggs!” Cara yelled as she smiled from ear to ear.
“Ansley is my daughter,” Darlene said to Mr. Schroeder. “She’s the same age as Cara.”
“She’s a beautiful girl,” he said as he stood up.
Darlene rose also. “Thank you.”
“Dad.” Cara pointed to the picture. “This is Ansley.”
“I see, Cara. You better give Ms. Darlene her photo album so we can let her get home to her family.” Mr. Schroeder tried to take the album, only to have Cara squeal, this time with a fire in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Darlene said quickly. “She can take it. I have duplicates at home.”
Mr. Schroeder flinched. “Sorry. I’ll make sure you get it back.”
“No problem.”
Mr. Schroeder turned to his daughter. “Do you want to tell me how your day was?”
Darlene held her breath.
There was a long silence, then Cara said, “It was good, Dad.” She kept her eyes on the photos. “Ansley has chickens.”
Dave laughed. “Really?”
Darlene was feeling a bit triumphant. Both Cara—and her father—were laughing. “We’re city slickers, I guess you could say. But our youngest daughter was insistent we get some chickens.”
“Ansley has chickens,” Cara repeated softly.
Darlene picked up her purse. “Mr. Schroeder, I hope you and Cara have a great weekend.”
“Dave. Just Dave.” He smiled as he briefly touched Cara’s arm, nudging her to stand. “Hope you and your family have a good weekend too, Darlene.”
She waved as they headed to the door.
It was definitely a good day. And Darlene was looking forward to a good weekend.
She was back in the role of homemaker all day Saturday, cleaning and preparing for Grace’s birthday party that evening. She’d already baked Grace’s favorite cake—yellow with chocolate icing. Ansley was in charge of decorations, and Chad was helping Brad mow and edge the yard. It was hard for Darlene to believe that little Grace was sixteen.
“Honey, are you sure you don’t want to invite any other girls from school?” Darlene brushed past Grace in the kitchen. “We told you to invite whoever you want.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” Grace walked to the counter where the cake was.
“No touching.” Darlene stood on her tiptoes so she could reach the serving dishes she needed for the appetizers. She pulled two glass plates from the top shelf in the cabinet, then turned to finish the salad. Grace had asked for lasagna, salad, and garlic bread for her birthday dinner. “So you and Skylar must be getting along well.”
“Mom, I know she’s different, and I know where you’re going with this.” Grace shook her head.
“Grace, I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, I can tell by the way you’ve looked at her every night this week when she came over.”
Darlene put her hands on her hips. “Grace, I don’t judge people.” She cringed inside as she said it, though.
“I thought she was weird at first too. But now . . .” Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. She dresses funny, but she’s all right.”
“Well, we’re happy to have her.” Darlene checked the pantry to see how many tea bags she had. Plenty. “What do you think about Cindy, Chad’s new girlfriend?”
Grace tucked her hair behind her ears, shrugged again. “She’s okay, I guess.”
“Pretty girl,” Darlene mumbled, ashamed of herself for wondering how Chad had snagged such a girl. Chad was a handsome kid, but he was rough around the edges. Cindy was as poised and put together as any seventeen-year-old Darlene had ever seen. Always polite and smiling.
“Right after dinner.”
“What? I can’t wait that long!”
“Well, you’ll have to because it’s not wrapped yet.”
Grace smiled. “It’s a car. It has to be. Chad got a truck for his sixteenth birthday.”
“That old clunker?” Darlene forced a frown, but inside she couldn’t wait for Grace to see what they’d bought her. “You don’t really want something like that, do you? Wouldn’t you rather wait until we can afford to get you something decent?”
Grace sighed as she blinked her eyes. “I guess.”
Darlene wanted so badly to tell her that they’d been saving for a car for her, and while it was used, it was safe and well made. And it was several notches above the truck that Chad drove. Darlene knew that they would have to help Chad upgrade to a new car before he left for college, but they had another year before that worry came calling.
“I’m sorry, Grace. I promise we will work on getting you a car very soon, but I hope you’ll like your present just the same.”
“I’m sure I will, Mom.” Grace hung her head as she walked out of the kitchen.
That was Grace. She never complained. Which would make it all the more exciting to be able to see Grace’s reaction to her gift.
Despite her reservations in the beginning, Layla was starting to like Darlene. She was an attractive gal, though she’d probably never spent a lot of time or money on her own upkeep. She’d just been busy raising kids. Layla found it ironic, yet admirable, that Darlene chose a job working with children. Layla would have thought she would’ve wanted to be around adults.
Layla was amazed that Darlene didn’t seem to want or need anything from her, except maybe friendship. It was a new concept. Everyone seemed to want a part of Layla, which had kept her out of reach for the one person who had needed her the most. Marissa. Layla dreaded going to the Hendersons’ for the birthday bash. What a birthday celebration Layla would have had for Marissa for her sixteenth birthday if she’d lived that long.
Layla shivered. Maybe if she’d been more like Darlene, stayed home more, been with Marissa . . .
She buttoned her blouse, then checked her lipstick. For a woman forty-five years old, she knew she’d held up well. Physically. Although she couldn’t take all the credit. Money could buy looks. But she did give credit to herself for working hard. Taking care of her land and horses kept her mind from wandering to bad places. She struggled in the evenings, after the sun went down, the house dark, everything quiet. That’s when she missed Marissa the most. And Tom.
She thought about Tom sometimes. It was for the best and easier this way. But, oh, how she’d loved him. Not a man before or since made her swoon the way he did.
She grabbed the card she’d picked up yesterday, slipped a check inside, then tucked the gift in her purse. Hopefully she wouldn’t be there very long. The memories of Marissa were bound to overwhelm her. She had a bottle of wine ready for when she got home.
As six o’clock rolled around, Darlene and Ansley finished setting the table. Chad had gone to pick up Cindy, and Brad had gone to pick up the car. As was the rule, the birthday girl or boy didn’t have to do any chores on their special day, so Grace was upstairs.
Darlene was surprised when someone knocked on the door early. They’d told everyone six thirty.
“Ansley, go get the door.” Darlene laid out the last few napkins around her good china as Ansley skipped to the door.
A minute later, Ansley walked into the dining room with Skylar. “Sorry, I’m early.”
Darlene waited for her to explain why she was early, but when she didn’t, Darlene just said, “Oh, that’s fine, Skylar. Glad you could come. Grace is upstairs if you want to go on up.” Then Darlene turned to Ansley. “Honey, go feed your chickens before everyone gets here.” She smiled as she thought about Cara.
Skylar walked up to Darlene, her black boots shuffling beneath her. She pushed back a long strand of black hair. “Can I ask you something?”
Darlene tucked her own hair behind her ears. She noticed the small piercing on Skylar’s nose for the first time. She was going to pray that her girls never pierced anything besides their ears. “Sure. What’s up?”
Skylar pulled a small box out of the pocket of her black jeans, the size of a ring box. She opened it up. “Do you think Grace will like this?”
Darlene leaned closer, then picked up the silver ring with a small angel in the middle. She held the ring up and looked at Skylar. “This is a beautiful ring. I’m sure Grace will love it.” Darlene paused as she put the ring back in the box, squinting. “This looks like an expensive gift, Skylar. Are you sure you want to give this to Grace?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Skylar snapped the lid closed. “It was my mother’s.”
Darlene brought a hand to her chest. “Skylar . . .” She stared into the girl’s dark eyes, unsure what to say, except for the obvious. “You can’t give Skylar a ring your mother gave you.”
“Why?”
Darlene’s jaw dropped. “Because . . . your mother gave it to you.” Grace had already told Darlene that Skylar’s mother died of cancer when she was two. She couldn’t bear the thought of Skylar giving up such a treasured gift.
Skylar locked eyes with Darlene. “I’d really like for Grace to have it if you think she’d like it.”
Darlene wondered if Skylar was trying to buy Grace’s friendship, but when Skylar smiled, such hope in her eyes, Darlene said, “Yes, I think she’ll love it.”
“Great.” Skylar stuffed it back in her pocket and turned to leave.
“Skylar, there’s some wrapping paper on my bed.” Darlene pointed to her bedroom. “If you want to wrap it.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Brad hurried into the den, breathless. “The car is behind the barn, so don’t let Grace go out there.”
“Okay, okay.” Darlene leaned up and kissed Brad, then cradled his cheek in her hand. “Go get some tea. Rest. Everything is under control.”
Brad walked across the dining room toward the kitchen, but made an about-face when someone knocked at the door. “I’ll get it.”
Darlene met him in the den, but Brad beat her to the door. He pulled the door open and just stared at Layla through the screen. He didn’t open the door, he didn’t speak . . . nothing. Darlene looked up at him and wanted to slam his dropped jaw shut. Layla was beautiful, no doubt. But really, Brad! She nudged him out of the way and opened the screen door.
“Hi, Layla, come in.” She turned to Brad, his jaw still hung low. “Layla, this is my husband, Brad.”
Brad smiled but didn’t say anything. Then he nodded and abruptly left the room. Darlene would deal with him later.
“It’s not much, but we call it home,” Darlene said as she motioned for Layla to have a seat in the den.
“It’s lovely,” Layla said, almost as if she meant it.
“Can I get you something to drink? A glass of tea, lemonade?”
“Tea would be good.”
“Be right back.” She hurried to the kitchen. Brad was leaning against the counter rubbing his forehead, shaking his head.
“What is wrong with you?” Darlene spoke in a whisper. “I mean, I know Layla is attractive, but that was embarrassing, your mouth hung open and all . . .” She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. “I mean, really, Brad. You could have been a little more discreet.”
Brad moved toward her, grinning like a schoolboy. “You have no idea who that is in our living room, do you?”
“It’s our neighbor. I told you I was inviting her. It’s Layla.”
“Layla Jager. That’s who it is!” Brad’s voice started to rise, but he quickly whispered again. “Doesn’t that name ring a bell for you?”
Darlene frowned. “No. What are you talking about?”
Brad chuckled, shrugged. Almost like a crazy man. “Oh, no biggie. We just have an Academy
Award winner in our living room. That’s all, Darlene. How can you not know who she is?”
Darlene didn’t move as she tried to absorb what her husband was saying.
“Let me refresh your memory, my dear.” Brad scratched his chin. “Legacy of a Cowgirl, Free Rider, Leaving You on Tuesday . . . Uh . . . ring any bells yet?”
Darlene didn’t move, and her heart was beating out of her chest. Brad was a collector of old westerns, but the light had just clicked on for Darlene. “Oh my. Oh my. Oh my.” She put her hand over her mouth.
“She was in her early twenties when she made those movies, but Legacy of a Cowgirl won her an Academy Award.” Brad lowered his voice. “She kept making movies well into her thirties, even though I don’t think they were as successful as those first ones. Then she just sort of fell off the face of the earth . . .” Brad laughed. “And landed in Round Top, Texas, right next door to us.”
“I have to take her some tea.” Darlene grimaced. “Okay, so she’s famous.” She pointed a finger at her husband. “Brad, don’t you embarrass me. Don’t say anything.”
Brad held his palms up. “I won’t say a word.” He dropped his hands, then rubbed his chin for a moment. “Do you know that she’s a real cowgirl? I mean, I think she did all her own stunts in the movies, rode the horses, everything. Her father was a huge rancher, and she grew up on a ranch. I never knew where.” He snapped his fingers. “I wonder if she’s originally from Round Top.”
“I don’t know.” Darlene filled up a glass of tea for Layla. “But that explains a lot.” She grinned as she shook her head, thinking of the snake encounter. She walked to the den.
“Here you go.” She handed Layla the glass, and now she definitely recognized her from her movies. Unbelievable.
Layla took the tea, then stood up when Grace and Skylar came downstairs. At the same time, Chad and Cindy walked in. After introductions were made, they all moved into the dining room. Brad offered the prayer, but Darlene caught him with one eye open, looking at Layla. She shook her head. At least everyone else was too young to know who Layla was.
“Amen.”