by Carter Ashby
“It most certainly is not.” Ivy dropped her purse next to the door and stormed into the kitchen. “And if one more person says that to me today, I’m going to hurt them. I’m going to hurt them bad.” She slammed a kettle of water onto the stove. “You boys are going to have to do your canoodling someplace else, I’m fixing to have company over for tea.”
“You want us out of the room, or out of the house?” Cody asked.
“Jordan can stay, but one of my guests is your momma, so you might not be in a very sexy mood knowing she’s down here chatting with me.”
The brief glance at Cody revealed a mildly disgusted expression. “Hey, J, you wanna go for a ride?” he said, making his way back to the living room.
They were gone by the time Ivy was setting cookies on a platter on the coffee table. Store bought cookies. Not the best way to make a good first impression on one’s future mother-in-law.
“Damn it!” she shouted at her thoughts. Not a future mother-in-law. Not even close.
She had a half-dozen flower arrangements in her bedroom, so she retrieved a couple of them and set them in the living room. A pitcher of iced tea and a tray of fruit completed the impromptu layout.
Clara arrived five minutes past the arranged time. She wore a smile, but the emotional toll of the past week was apparent on her drawn, pale features. “Come on in,” Ivy said, opening the screen door. She left the main door open to let a breeze blow through. It was August, but unseasonably cool.
“I’m so happy you called,” Clara said. “I’ve been going stir-crazy. There’s not much to do to keep my mind off…everything.”
Ivy perched on the love seat which sat directly across the coffee table from the main sofa. Clara took the middle cushion and accepted a glass of iced tea. “Oohh, Lorna Doones, my favorite,” Clara said, taking a cookie.
Ivy did a mental cheer even as her body sank with relief.
She immediately tensed up again, however, at the sound of tires on gravel.
“Is someone else coming?” Clara asked.
Ivy was spared answering as she rose to open the door. She made it about halfway before Myra swept in, not bothering to knock. “Ivy, dear, what a lovely spread,” she said as she took the chair at the far end of the coffee table. “I don’t suppose modern young women know how to bake a proper cookie these days. So sad. Another lost art.” She took a cookie anyway and turned to Clara. “How are you, dear.”
Ivy plopped down on the love seat, fighting the urge to curse at her second guest. She could make a damn cookie, it was hardly an art. She could make all kinds of cookies. It was unreasonable to expect someone to bake fresh pastries for a tea party arranged only the morning of…
Ivy forced herself to shut down her thoughts. They were fruitless, and besides, the focus had moved away from her inadequacy as a hostess and onto Clara’s tension with Myra.
“I don’t think you really care how I am,” Clara said with uncharacteristic boldness.
“Of course I care. You must believe I never intended to hurt anyone. Well…I never intended to hurt you, at least.”
“But you did, Myra. You go about spewing your poison without a care as to who gets hit by it. It’s shameful, what you do.”
Myra didn’t exactly look penitent, but she did lean back in her chair and sigh. “In this case, perhaps you’re right. In this case, I might have gone too far. Tell me, what is the status of your marriage?”
Ivy’s jaw dropped at the boldness and audacity of the question. But then, this was Myra. Pretty silly to be surprised at anything that came out of Myra’s mouth.
The true shocker was Clara’s answer. “Same as ever,” she said, sipping her tea. “Loveless and unfulfilling.” She turned to Ivy. “I know you and Jake are having fun together, but I don’t recommend the institution.”
Ivy gaped at her, and then turned to gape at Myra who was laughing cheerfully. “I have three experiences with marriage, Clara, and for the most part, you’re right on the money. Ed was a good man. Ed was good. Maybe if he’d lived longer things would have gone bad, but as it is, I have to write that marriage off as a success. The others, though…” she shivered and finished her cookie.
“I’m a rancher’s wife,” Clara said. “There’s lots of work. I like the work, it keeps me from dwelling on the deficiencies. I feel I’ve failed with my boys, but then, how can I demand respect from them when I don’t demand it from my husband. No, I see the failure of my marriage as my own failure. I love my boys, but I’ve done them a great disservice, and I fear I haven’t prepared them properly for how to treat women of their own.”
Ivy would spend time pondering this statement and eventually come to the conclusion that Jake and Cody, at least, were far more emotionally evolved than their father. But for now, her head swung back and forth between Clara and Myra, as though watching an intense tennis match.
“Have you considered moving to town? Taking a job?” Myra asked.
Clara shook her head and chuckled. “That’s ridiculous. A woman my age? I have no money of my own. No job experience.”
“Bullshit,” Myra said, the curse word sounding a bit like out of place on Myra’s refined lips. “You’ve run a ranch for forty years, haven’t you? You can type, do basic accounting, manage calendars, plan events.”
“Well, yes, but that’s hardly a resumé.”
“It’s precisely a resumé. Ethel at the paper is getting married in two weeks. They’re looking for a new office manager right now.”
Clara stared at her for a moment, her cheeks brightening a little. “No,” she said, shaking her head at last. “They’ll want someone younger.”
“They might. But they’ll hire you.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I have photo evidence of something Mr. Gladden will definitely not want his wife to see. He owns the newspaper, he’ll make sure you get hired. If you’re interested.”
Clara was silent for another moment. “I…I’d have to think about it.”
“Take the weekend. Have an answer for me on Monday.”
Clara nodded. “It would be a tiresome commute in and out of town every day.”
“So move to town. I’ve had the upstairs of my house closed up for years, it’s just too much for me. Time to time I think about renting it out. You could have it, free of rent for the first month, then we’d negotiate something reasonable after you get a couple paychecks under your belt. What do you say, Clara? It’s only life, but it’s the only life you’ve got. And there’s enough of it left to live it the way you want.”
Clara sat her tea glass on the table, the ice rattling inside. She lifted a shaking hand to her lips, tears welling in her eyes. Slowly she curled into herself and sobbed. Myra was right there at her side, rubbing her back and hushing her. “There, there,” she said, among other consoling nothings.
Ivy, probably a minute or two later than she should have, rose to go to the kitchen, giving the two older women some space. She washed a few dishes, brewed some more tea, and when she ran out of things to keep herself occupied, returned to the living room. Myra was back in her chair and the two women were laughing about something.
“Old times,” Clara explained, offering Ivy an apologetic smile.
Ivy smiled in return, clearly the outsider in this little threesome.
But then, Clara grew more serious. “Ivy, I wonder if you and Jared have talked about the possibility of hiring my boys on?”
Ivy quickly switched into business mode. “Of course we have. Jake, Cody, and Boone would be welcome. My father is infinitely forgiving, but I don’t see how I could find my way around to hiring Dallas. He crossed a line that, to me, is a deal breaker. Besides, he’s been very clear about not wanting to work on a ranch anymore.”
Clara nodded sadly. “Gideon’s age is getting to him. He can’t do the things he used to. I think the time will come, soon, that he’ll have to sell. Perhaps we could give Dallas his share and he can go where he wants.”
“That
seems wise. He could easily be in prison for what he’s done. But I don’t suppose you want to go that direction?”
“Of course not. He didn’t mean it to go as far as it did, he was just…ignorant.”
“Then maybe you can help him find a direction that would give him more fulfillment. Like Myra’s done for you today.”
Clara smiled and nodded. “But you would hire Boone? He’s lazy, you know.”
“Is he?” Ivy said, laughing. “That’s not a very good reference from his former employer.”
“Well, he works when he’s supervised. He just doesn’t have any drive in him. No work ethic.”
“We’ll see how he feels, if he even wants to work with us. There’s plenty of supervision around.”
“And Cody? You don’t have a problem with him being…being…?”
“Gay? Of course not. It’s not a factor. How much time he spends during work hours making out with Jordan might be, but I’m sure if he wants to work with us, he’ll save his social life for after work hours.”
Clara squirmed. “This…Jordan…he’s a good man?”
“I believe he is. He’s a young man. Just turned twenty. Very sweet and hard working. I think you’ll like him.”
“I’d like to meet him,” she said softly. “I’d like to talk to my boy and ask him how this came to be. What we did. What we could have done.”
Ivy resisted the urge to preach at her. To inform her that this was simply who Cody was. To tell her the only thing she could have done differently was have different DNA. But she kept it to herself. “I think if you approach him, he’ll talk to you. It’s Gideon he’s avoiding at the moment.”
Clara nodded again. “And Jake. You’ll marry him if he asks?”
Ivy’s sense of decorum vanished, she slammed her glass on the table, and leapt to her feet. “The man hasn’t so much as asked me on a date! How can we talk about marriage when I don’t even know if he loves me. I haven’t even had a chance to figure out if I love him. There’s been no conversation…none…about a future like this! I have no idea what he even wants in a wife, let alone whether I want to agree to it.”
“Ivy, dear, calm down,” Myra said, blandly.
Ivy was pacing at this point. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting out the air, and repeating the process several more times before taking her seat again. Clara’s eyes were wide, but her expression suggested amusement. “I’m sorry,” Ivy said calmly at last. “I’ve been asked this question several times today and I’m clearly at my wit’s end.”
“I won’t say another word,” Clara said, and damned if the woman didn’t look like she was suppressing laughter.
Ivy slumped in defeat as the two older women shared knowing looks. As though her destiny were already written in stone and the fact of her fighting it was the funniest thing on earth.
After they left, Ivy cleaned up and went to the office to finish out the work day.
Clara sat down with Gideon and Jake at the kitchen table Saturday evening. The other boys hadn’t come up for dinner that evening, which was just as well, because Clara hadn’t cooked and the men had been forced to make themselves sandwiches. The kitchen was shiny and clean. No pots and pans on the stove. The only evidence of life, the two plates in the sink that Jake and Gideon had used for their meager dinner. Of course they hadn’t washed them. Why would they? That’s what Clara was for. Only she’d done her very last dishes in that house earlier that morning. They would just have to figure some things out on their own.
As Clara had moved about the house that day, she could hear the echo of her heels on the wood floors in the silence. It was just as well she’d made her decision. She’d die of heartbreak at the lack of noise—no boys bickering at the table, laughing at each other, talking about the ranch. Why would they ever come back after the way Gideon had treated them.
Of course, Jake had come back. Clara couldn’t fully understand her oldest boy, except that he’d always been forgiving where Gideon was concerned. Always willing to submit to his father’s authority. Still, it didn’t seem like that was what was happening lately. The dynamic between father and son had shifted.
Gideon hadn’t wanted to sit down with her. He claimed he didn’t have time to deal with any female problems, if she wanted to buy new fabric for a quilt, she would just have to wait until they sold some cattle at auction next week. His easy dismissal of her made it that much easier to say what she wanted to say. Having Jake there made it harder.
“Something wrong, Mom?” Jake asked. He had brewed a pot of coffee and now sat across the table from her, next to Gideon, both of them freshly showered after a hard day’s work. Jake’s hair was still damp and tousled. His skin was bronzed from life outdoors, and he looked strong and content. Ivy was a lucky girl.
“I’ve got some things to say.”
Gideon grunted and glanced at his watch. Clara figured there must be a baseball game on or something, and he was in a hurry to get to it. Too bad for him.
“I’m moving out.”
Her words didn’t immediately register. Jake was sipping his coffee, smiling at her, still waiting. Gideon was barely listening. But then Jake’s smile faded. “Wait, what?”
“I’m moving out of this house and into town.” The decision had cost her one night’s sleep. Thirty-nine years of marriage sold down the river for the price of one night’s sleep. She’d wept, fought, justified…but in the end, her eyes had been opened too far to go back. There would still be some grieving to do. Some accepting. But there was no doubt she was making the best decision for herself.
Jake was still frowning, his coffee cup caught in limbo between the table and his mouth. “For, like…how long?”
“Forever, baby.”
Jake looked at his father, whose attention was now solely focused on Clara. His gaze was angry and annoyed. “What’s gotten in your head, woman?” Gideon asked.
“I’ve lived in service to you most of my life, Gideon. I haven’t asked anything in return because that’s what love is. It’s unconditional. No expectations. But you still had a responsibility. You can only walk on someone so long before they break or leave. I’m leaving before I break.”
Gideon slammed his fists on the table. “What the hell is going on with you? You stop fixing dinner. Start dressing in those ridiculous shoes. What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Like hell you are! I done nothing but be a good husband and provider. Gave you four boys, didn’t I? A roof over your head?”
“Pop, stop,” Jake said quietly.
Gideon turned on his son. “I’ll thank you to keep your nose in your own business.”
“That’s enough.”
Gideon raised a hand to slap him, but Jake caught it in his powerful, young grip. Gideon’s eyes went wide with rage while Jake’s stayed cool, his grip on Gideon’s wrist unrelenting.
Clara watched in awe, the silent power struggle. She watched as Jake came into his own and Gideon crumpled in defeat, pulling his arm back and rubbing his wrist. Jake said, “Maybe if you’d raised your voice and hand a little less and listened a little more, your wife wouldn’t be walking out on you right now.”
Gideon grumbled at him under his breath but didn’t yell.
Jake turned back to Clara. “Is there anything I can do to get you to stay, Mom? You’ve been a rancher’s wife all your life, I’d hate to see you give that up.”
Clara laughed and then smiled adoringly at Jake. “You are such a sweet boy. You always loved this life and you’ll likely love it until you die. But I was here for my family, nothing more. You boys are all grown up, you don’t need me anymore—”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. You don’t need me here all day every day wasting away and cooking your food. You can hire someone for that. And I won’t be going far. I’ll still be your momma who loves you. I just can’t finish out my remaining years this way. You understand?”
Jake was clearly doing his bes
t. His brow was furrowed with the effort to understand. He even nodded. “Yeah, I just…I wish I’d known you were unhappy.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ve been unhappy. It’s snuck up on me. The self-pity, the feeling of being walked over…it’s been gradual. But now that I see it, I can’t live with it anymore. Gideon?”
Her husband frowned up at her, ten years added to his face. He grunted.
“Do you have any questions? Anything you want to say?”
His arms folded over his chest, he looked away. She was dead to him same as Cody and Dallas. And she didn’t have Jake’s strength or the will to do like Jake and dominate the situation. She didn’t want to.
“Do you have a plan?” Jake asked at last.
“I do, in fact. I’ll be working as an office manager at the newspaper. And I’m going to rent Myra’s guest room.”
“Myra? As in Myra the Mouth?” Jake asked, all composure lost. “How could…why would…?”
“She offered. I think she understands where I am and what I’m going through. You’ll see someday, when you get to a certain age, age alone can be enough of a common factor to unite two people. Plus, she’s been married three times. She can help me through this.”
Jake sat back and shoved his hands through his hair, clearly baffled by the whole thing. “Okay,” he said slowly, almost as a question.
“It’s the right thing for me,” Clara assured him.
He nodded blankly. Gideon got up and left out the back door. She’d try to talk to him again later, once he’d had time to process everything. There would be things to say to each other. Goodbyes that wouldn’t be as easy as she wished. But for now, she let him go.
Jake sat in silence, clearly stunned.
“Son?”
His eyes focused on hers. “Yeah?”
“I want you to take this ranch from him.”
Instead of surprise, what she got was a hardening of the lines in his face. He nodded. Clara had expected him to react in surprise or question her, but her boy was wiser than she’d given him credit for. “He’ll lose it if I don’t,” Jake said. “Cody ain’t coming back. I wouldn’t want Dallas to come back. Boone will work, he’s got nothing else going. But still, the workload’s gotten heavier and without you, someone’s going to have to manage the money.”