“Sis,” I protested, “she’s only fifty-one.”
“That’s old. She should act her age.”
“I hope I look that good when I’m fifty-one,” Rica said.
“Outvoted again. Tim, pick up your cans and check your fire.”
The next morning Tim and I were put in charge of the two children. Sis’ boy was five months older than Billy and quicker on his feet. Billy was still uncertain. He played rough—reminded me of Sis and me as kids. I was older, but she was bigger. By lunchtime, Tim and I were ready for their nap.
Rica had brought an overnight bag with a quick change for me in case we should stay over, and Billy’s stuff. Sis thought that was a good idea, too.
After lunch we decided to think about getting ready for the grand party. The boys were dressed first and, once again, Tim and I babysat. They looked adorable and squirmed to get down, but Tim said, “Then we’d have to dress them, so hold tight.”
Rica walked out of the bedroom and I caught my breath. I hadn’t seen her really dressed up for months. She was gorgeous in a gown that clung to every curve. She had been a beautiful girl, but now she was a voluptuous woman. Motherhood became her.
Sis appeared and I could tell she was pleased with herself, pleased that she could still get into her wedding dress. She, too, was a woman to be proud of. Sis had no need now for Noxzema or curlers, her blonde hair curled naturally around her face. She was striking. I thought Ma had probably looked like that when she was young.
“Your sister sure got all the looks in your family,” Tim said as he feasted his eyes. He nudged me and added, “S’pose we could skip that other shindig and do a little partying ourselves? I s’pose if you even suggested that to these beauties, they wouldn’t leave us enough to party with.”
Sis looked out the window. “Oh my God,” she shrieked. “He’s sent a hearse.”
I rushed to the window and recognized a black limo I guessed to be about fifty feet long. I gasped, “Come in,” when the chauffeur knocked.
“May I take your bag, ma’am?”
Wordless, Sis handed him her overnighter.
He held the door to the limo and we settled ourselves comfortably.
The babies slept all the way in our arms, Tim’s and mine. The girls didn’t want to get wrinkled.
We sat almost in shock as the limo sped across the Texas prairie. Then I mumbled to Sis, “Not bad for a horse trailer,” which earned me a wicked dig in the ribs.
The limo threaded its way in and out of the wide sweeping turns as we neared the low-lying hills. It seemed to me that we had been on the road for a long time—or else I was just impatient.
Leaning forward, I asked the driver, “How far is it to this shindig?”
“About seventy miles to the big house,” he answered.
“That seems like a long way to go to a party,” I said.
“Not if you’re on a good horse,” he drawled.
“Not me,” I said. “Personally I’d prefer rubber beneath me.”
“Well, guess Mr. Kearney does, too. He’s still partial to that old pickup he drives.”
“I’ve never seen so many hills,” Rica said to the driver. “I feel sorry for the cows—where are the cows?”
Catching her eye in the rearview mirror, he said, “They’re all in the winter pastures now. Those hills are a cow’s heaven. You should see them in the spring with all their calves. The hills are green; it’s beautiful,” his voice softened.
Then he continued, “This is a part of Texas that’s known as the hill country. Big cattle ranches, mesquite, oil wells. Oh, and rattlesnakes, too.” He laughed. “Mr. Kearney owns a big part of it. One of the biggest ranches in Texas.”
A shocked silence behind him as we digested this information. I didn’t dare to look at Sis. Her gasp told me for once in her life she was speechless, but I wasn’t going to let her off easy.
Speaking quietly, I said, “Well, Sis, what do you think?”
“I think I shouldn’t have been so quick to turn that porch light on.” She sighed.
Finally, the outline of a house appeared like a cherry at the top of an ice cream sundae, nestled on the low rise of a hill. Even at a distance the long, flowing lines of the residence appeared impressive.
“Doesn’t look like a cook house to me,” Tim whispered. I heard him grunt as Sis’ elbow found its mark.
As we moved slowly up the driveway, I could tell that the party was already in progress. Through the open window, we could hear the band tuning up, shouts of laughter, and, oh, the mouthwatering aroma of roasting pork.
Ma had been watching for us as I knew she would. She ran down the broad steps of the veranda before the limo came to a full stop.
Charles followed with a broad smile on his face as he said, “Glad you’re here. Now we’ll have that beer.”
Billy was now wide awake in Rica’s arms and squirming to get down.
Ma threw her arms around me. Looking down to see the love and the tears competing, I didn’t care if the press ever rolled again.
Sis squeezed in. “See, I always knew she loved you best.”
“And the most,” I answered, repeating a ritual we had perfected since childhood.
“Come along, gentlemen,” Charles said. “Allow the ladies to do what they do best. Let’s see if we can find a snack somewhere to go with that beer I promised you.
“I’ve got two wonderful Mexican ladies here to care for the babies so you needn’t worry and we can all join the party.”
So we went our separate ways.
Tim and I followed Charles down the long shaded veranda, then stepped down to the tiled courtyard. A brightly colored canopy kept the hot afternoon sun from the big table groaning with Charles’ “snacks.”
“This is just to keep our strength up until dinner.” He grinned. “Grab a plate.”
I could smell the porker roasting on a spit somewhere nearby, and I knew from whom Billy had inherited his drool.
Wide wooden gates opened from the courtyard to a newly constructed flat surface, obviously a dance floor—I saw band instruments and a fellow tuning his guitar.
The courtyard was large with tables and colored umbrellas scattered randomly about, some pushed against the low adobe wall that hung heavy with vines and flowers.
“Charles,” Tim said, almost running to keep up, “Your driver said something about not being far if you had a good horse?”
“Well, sometimes it seems like a fur piece.” Charles laughed, lapsing into the twang and jargon of the locals.
We found an empty table and set our heaping plates down.
“Now for the beer. Tim, get on your horse.”
We struggled back through the growing crowd and found the real party at the bar. We pushed through and it was easily apparent that Charles was surely among friends—backslapping, hand-shaking greetings from every side.
A voice called, “Hey Charlie, when are you gonna get rid of that old junker you drive? It’s an embarrassment. Gives Texas a bad image.”
Another voice added, “Now that you’ve got that new gusher, you can afford to buy a new one. Heck, you can buy one for all of us—how about it?”
Above the din came Charles’ announcement. “Hey, you bronc busters, give me a minute. I want to introduce Steve…” He put his arm over my shoulder, “…and Tim, a Marine who keeps you boys safe from the bad guys. Treat ’em right.”
Then turning to me, he said, “I’m gonna leave you on your own with these hooligans. I’ve got to get this party started.”
I thought if it moved any faster, I’d be late.
Two large tubs of ice were packed with cans of beer brands I’d never heard of; two barkeeps were rushing to keep up at the heavily stocked bar.
Everyone wanted to stand us a drink, but I begged off. “We’re waiting for our ladies and we promised to be sober.” We compromised with a beer in each hand as we slowly found our way to the table where our food waited.
Tim stopped che
wing long enough to ask, “Did you hear that guy say something about a new gusher. Does that mean oil?”
“Yeah, but s’pose he was just BSing.”
I looked up from my food to see a fellow approaching our table. He seemed a bit unsteady, a can of beer in each hand. When he reached the table, he put a beer down and extended his hand.
“Bob Morris here, one of Charlie’s neighbors about fifty miles east. Can I set with you guys a spell till my legs get used to walkin’?”
“Yeah, I lost my horse, too,” Tim joked.
Full of food and icy cold beer, we stretched our legs and leaned back. A loud blast from the mariachi trio that was circling around quieted us for a moment.
Talking above the strident music, Tim said, “That sure is a beautiful house.”
“Yeah,” Bob replied, “My great-grandfather helped Kearney’s great- grandfather build it, in 1890, I think it was. The outside adobe walls are three feet thick. Six bedrooms—those old-timers had lots of kids.”
He pulled a cigarette from a crumpled pack, lit a match with a swipe of his hand across his pants, then took a long drag.
“The kitchen is twenty feet long and the pot rack is hung with many of the old handmade utensils. Guess it will last forever. Charles has modernized it, of course. The inside walls are all aromatic cedar—sure smells good,” he added as he took another long drag. “Took thirty Mexicans over a year to build it. Kearney built that little church in town, too.”
Tim and I listened in silence; Bob was a fountain of information.
“His wife died about twelve years ago. She was a great lady and he took it awful hard. Nobody saw him for a month and he sure looked like hell when they did. Heard he’s courtin’ a lady from his church now.”
Tim interrupted, “Well, she’s another fine lady. I know because she’s my mother-in-law and there’s none finer.”
Bob looked dumfounded. “Didn’t know you were kinfolk.” He ground out the remains of his cigarette with the worn-over heel of his boot.
“I s’pose you’ve heard they’re gonna run Charlie for governor next year. A gusher that just come in will probably finance his campaign. That makes three wells he’s got. Ol’ Charlie ain’t hurtin’.”
He drained his last beer, fumbled for his cigarettes and struck another match. Standing, he said, “Good to have met you boys. Guess I’ll amble over and see if the bar’s still open.”
We sat in stunned silence, looking at each other.
“I’ll be damned,” Tim said. “Ma’s struck oil.”
• • •
The band, composed of a drum, saxophone and two guitars, hit a few tentative notes, then opened up.
People scrambled to their feet and stampeded to the dance floor. The music pounded to rock ‘n’ roll.
“Where are our women?” Tim demanded.
“Probably Ma is showing them through the house. Rica is wild for a big house so now I’m in trouble again.”
“Oh, here they come, the both of ’em. They look just as good coming as going.” Tim grinned.
I walked to meet Rica and fell in love all over again. Sis and Tim joined us.
“Where is Ma?” Tim and I spoke in unison as though we had rehearsed.
Sis pointed to the dancers.
My eyes found Ma, held closely in Charles’ arms. There was such an expression of love imprinted on his face that I knew Ma had found something far more valuable than oil.
We immediately joined the boisterous group, pushing in between the stomping boots and whirling skirts. The festive mood of the crowd was contagious and we were having a wonderful time.
I tried to cut in on Charles, but he laughed and swung Ma away from me. Worse still, she waved a happy good-bye.
Well, Rica, looks like you’re stuck with me, I thought. But when I went back to join her, she was gone. I spotted her dancing with a big good- looking guy and immediately tried my luck again. I tapped him on the shoulder.
“No way, Jose,” he said with a devilish grin.
I said through clenched teeth, “Damn it, that’s my wife.”
Rica slipped from his arms into mine, her eyes sparkling.
“Better not leave me alone. I’m helpless around these good-looking Texans.”
“You’ll pay dearly for this when the lights are out tonight,” I threatened her.
“I certainly hope so,” she said without an ounce of resistance.
The floor shook beneath the flying feet of the dancers. But when the music became soft and slow, Rica cuddled close to me. I thought I might pay the musicians to play all night.
Then I saw Charles talking to the leader of the band. Suddenly, the tempo picked up—a tune I didn’t know.
I heard somebody’s voice, loud and clear, shout, “Hey—that’s the ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo.’ Heard that just before I went overseas. Jitterbug king, I was.”
I turned to see some gray-haired man dancing funny by himself. His forefinger waving in the air and singing at the top of his voice, “Chattanooga Choo-Choo, won’t you choo-choo me home!”
Well, I supposed you could expect anything at a Texas hoedown. Rica stepped back and nudged me.
Charles had Ma out on the dance floor. When he twirled her around a couple of times, the crowd moved back.
Sis was scandalized. “That fancy dress is flying way above her knees. Her legs are in full view.”
“Legs? I didn’t know Ma had legs above her knees,” I interjected.
Rica laughed and clapped, yelling, “Swing it, Ma!”
Then everyone clapped and whooped and hollered.
Charles flung her out, pulled her in, whirled her back into his arms; now they were dancing side by side. I heard the jitterbug king yell, “Shag—they’re doin’ the shag.”
Fancy little steps, then quick steps, now back to back—now she’s close in his arms.
The crowd was laughing, clapping, stomping, and shouting encouragements, although I didn’t think any encouragement was needed.
Charles waved to the band—the tempo slowed and the birthday song began. With his arm around Ma, he announced, “I want all of you to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my wife, Margaret. We were married six days ago and I’m a very happy man.”
We stood stunned. Sis said petulantly, “She could have told me.”
“She probably wanted to surprise you,” Rica said. “Besides, she knew you’d give her trouble—marrying a guy with an old truck and manure on his boots.”
Ma did a little dance step over to us and laughed. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”
Then sing we did. I had never heard that song really sung before I heard it sung in Texas.
Pandemonium prevailed. I had to stand in line to kiss my own mother.
Then Charles’ voice lifted above the hubbub. “Now let’s have dinner. If you’re going to dance all night, you’ll need some reinforcements.”
• • •
The “dire consequences” that I had threatened earlier that night never happened. I made the mistake of closing my eyes as Rica went to check on Billy. When I woke up, the sun shone brightly.
Rica rapped on our door. “Are you gonna sleep all day? Breakfast is almost ready so hurry—we’ve got to leave early. Tim has the duty first thing tomorrow—a group is coming in for training.”
What a breakfast it was. And the conversation was a jumble of voices, fast and funny.
“Ma, where did you learn to dance like that? That dress showed your legs, way up.”
“For your information, daughter, I was young once. And who taught you to dance?”
Charles added, “You sure can see those legs through that see-through nightgown…”
“Sis,” I said, “you probably should, no, I think I should…
Tim interrupted. “Charles, where could I buy a nightgown like that? You know the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
Billy, from his secure position on Rica’s lap, wanted his share of attention. He brought the palm of his hand dow
n hard in his cereal bowl, spattering both Charles and me.
“Little man.” Charles laughed as Ma brushed oatmeal from his shirt. “I know exactly what pony you are going to ride when you come to visit Grandpa.”
With breakfast over, the limo waited. Walking down the steps, Ma had tears in her eyes, but a smile on her face as she kissed us all good-bye.
“Son,” she spoke to me with an arm around Rica. “You’ve made a good choice.”
Sis, with her arms around Ma, asked, “What are you going to do in this big house?
“Honeymoon,” Charles boomed, then “Y’all come back” as he shook my hand. He looked me in the eye and said, “You can’t know how much I love her and she’ll always have the best,” adding with a twinkle in his eyes, “including me.”
As the limo pulled away, I looked back to see Charles’ arm around Ma and there was peace in my heart to know she had, at last, gotten what she deserved.
The limo was full of happy people and the chatter never ceased. I’d guess that driver was wishing for a good horse.
Tim went to work the next morning and we left, too. J.W. would be waiting for me. He’d ask about my dear old mother. I thought I’d tell him that she’d had a full recovery.
Driving back, we stayed one night in a nice motel. Rica said, “If we’re going to honeymoon, I want a nightgown like Ma’s.”
I promised her one. I’d have promised her anything.
CHAPTER 37
When we arrived at our destination, it was a shock to see how the apartment had shrunk.
Rica said, “I’m sorry I’ve been such a nag about this apartment. I am resolved to wait until the right place comes along and then we’ll both be happy.”
“Billy looks tired; shouldn’t he be in bed?”
She looked at me for a moment, said something about “motel madness,” whatever that meant.
She hardly had time to put his pajamas on and sure enough, he went right to sleep. I intended to raise his allowance at some later date.
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