Sisters, Ink

by Rebeca Seitz

  That doesn’t look like a church invitation. She got up to investigate and felt a hand on her own arm.

  “How about letting him have his fun?”

  Clay’s voice shocked her ears into that roaring silence again.

  She shook her head to clear it of both the roar and the image of Daddy and that woman. This town, these people, this noise was too much. “Excuse me?”

  Clay nodded in Daddy’s direction as the band began a slow Gretchen Wilson tune. “He’s just having a little fun talking to Zelda. And I’m guessing by the look on your face you were headed over there to put a stop to it.”

  “Of course not.” She shook her arm free of his hand, which he stuffed in the pockets of some very snug jeans. “I just wondered who she was and all.” And what she’s doing flirting with Daddy in the middle of Heartland. At least Tandy wouldn’t be the only thing everybody talked about in the morning.

  “She’s Zelda Norman and she’s fine. Not a barracuda. Not a hussy.”

  “I didn’t say she was any of those things.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He laid a hand against her cheek, his eyes softening as their gazes locked. Blood froze in her veins, savoring the heat of his palm, memorizing it. There would be plenty of time in Orlando to chastise herself for the feeling. “Your face, Tandy. It tells everything you don’t want to say.”

  Being known by this man, this one, this part of her past that aligned with the happiness of Momma and a safe place to live, took her breath. He was a gift of a man, but one better given to a different woman. One without her history or her plans for the future. Her dreams lay in Orlando, a big city that hurt her but in which she could live without hurting now. The triumph of that would make Momma proud.

  Even if Clay no longer lusted for the adventures of military life that prevented her from being his, he seemed to have traded that for a life here in Stars Hill. Once again he’d chosen a path that she couldn’t possibly follow.

  The room closed in on her as she realized she was reliving it all.

  Clay stood tall, his honest eyes now framed in laugh lines, his shoulders a bit more broad.

  And his feet on a path not wide enough for her.

  Twelve

  The band ended their song, and Tandy vaguely heard them announce a ten-minute break. Prerecorded music played but not at the volume of the band. Conversations buzzed around her. And still she stood there, surroundings forgotten, staring into eyes that for years had held the promise of hope and a future.

  Clay’s thumb grazed her cheekbone, eyes questioning hers.

  She didn’t have the answers. “Clay.”

  “Hmm?”

  She didn’t know what she’d intended to say. Just needed to affirm his name, a name she hadn’t spoken all through college or law school or her years in Orlando. Not allowing it to cross her lips, she realized now, hadn’t prevented her heart from beating it.

  She shook her head slightly, unable to get past the emotions crashing over her. She felt like the little bits of broken shell left behind on the shore. Jagged. Edgy. Scattered. Adrift.

  “Tandy, we need to talk.”

  Her head shook, automatically negating the idea before it left his mouth. She’d been saying no to this chaos of emotion for so many years in her mind, it didn’t seem possible to do otherwise. His hand slid from her cheek to her neck and rubbed the muscles tightened into knots there.

  “Think, Tandy. This is me. This is us.”

  “There is no us.” Fear and uncertainty turned her voice husky, but the words sounded right. “There is no us.” More sure this time.

  “Yes, there is. And I know you enough to know that your words don’t match your reality. We need to talk.”

  The giant wave crashed again, and in her mind she gathered all the sharp bits together, her efforts frantic yet fruitful. She stepped back from him. “I can’t, Clay. You’re Stars Hill. I’m not.” Backed another step.

  He came toward her. “See, that’s something we should discuss.”

  Loose curls bounced around her face as her head shook vehemently back and forth. “No. It’s pointless to discuss things that aren’t going to change.”

  “Then let’s talk about why they can’t change.”

  “Tandy!” Kendra appeared at her side, stepping between her and Clay. “Girl, I just about lost you over here in the corner. Come on out to the dance floor. The band’s about to play ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia.’”

  Tandy looked into Kendra’s sparkling brown eyes, her relief sighing out through dry lips. She glanced toward the stage where the band was, indeed, taking their positions again. She turned back and caught Clay’s eyes over Kendra’s head.

  Kendra grabbed her arm, and Tandy looked at her again. “Come on! I know you remember this dance.”

  “What?” Kendra’s words bobbed on the surface of the waves in her head while Clay stood there, his eyes begging her to do something, though she wasn’t sure what.

  Kendra put her hands on Tandy’s shoulders and shook. “Earth to Tandy! ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia’!” It registered with her this time, and Tandy’s mind filled with images of her and Kendra in the front yard, practicing the steps over and over. They’d told Momma they were going to be Coyotes. Thankfully, Momma had as much interest in movies as Tandy did in sitting still, so they’d gone on practicing for weeks. It had been Meg who finally explained to Momma the meaning and job description of a Coyote. Their practicing came to a screeching halt.

  “Come on!” Tandy allowed Kendra to pull her through the rows of chairs and back up onto the dance floor. The opening notes of the Charlie Daniels Band’s signature song sounded, and Tandy’s feet moved of their own accord. Her skirt didn’t provide pockets to hook her thumbs in, so she just put her hands on hips instead.

  “The devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal,” the band leader’s deep voice intoned the words that set Tandy and Kendra’s feet to stomping. “He was in a bind, ’cause he was way behind, and he was willing to make a deal …”

  She bit her lip, thoughts of Clay receding, concentrating now on the steps, kicking up her knees, then planting the balls of her feet and spinning. She and Kendra had modified the dance from the movie, filling in the gaps they couldn’t see on the video and embellishing the ones they could see.

  Other dancers noticed them, stopped what they were doing, and turned to watch. Tandy briefly thought about what they’d say the next day, but the dance required too much thought, so she let it go.

  “Fire on the mountain, run boys, run …”

  They were getting to the really hard part. Tandy reached up and pulled her hair off her neck, twisting and holding it in place as she and Kendra turned and kicked.

  The fiddle player kicked into those notes few in the world could play well, and Tandy sneaked a glance up at Kendra. Her sister nodded once and smiled, then they broke into intricate steps to match the fiddle. Her ankles burned as she used them to twist her feet back and forth, moving across the dance floor without ever lifting her booted feet, changing directions each time the fiddle changed directions on the scale. Her hip joints were on fire, but Tandy bit her lip, stifling the grin of triumph, and stayed with it.

  They were almost to the end. Johnny was about to beat the devil and win a fiddle of gold in the process. The notes and frenzy of the music doubled, reflecting a triumphant joy. Tandy and Kendra followed suit, sweat rolling down their faces and onto their necks.

  The song ended with two victorious chords, and Kendra and Tandy matched them with two strong thumps of their boots on the hardwood. Applause broke out around the dance floor, and Tandy realized that everyone in the room had been watching her and Kendra.

  “Guess we’ve still got it!” Kendra held her hand up for a high five. Tandy slapped her hand and hugged her, choosing to ignore the attention around them.

  “Man, I’ve missed you,” Tandy said. “I’ve missed this.” Her heart swel
led with love for the beautiful sister at her side.

  “Back at you.” The band went into a two-step number, and couples began filling the dance floor again.

  Kendra hooked her arm through Tandy’s and walked off the dance floor.

  “Thanks for saving me back there,” Tandy said.

  “Looked like maybe you needed an escape route.”

  “Something like that.”

  “You know, sis, you’ve got another week and a half here. There’s nothing saying you can’t enjoy him while you’re here.” Kendra laughed at her own joke.

  Tandy thought about that for a second. Could she love him and leave him the way he’d done to her? She’d turned love off before. Surely she could do it again.

  “It’s a thought.”

  Kendra stopped laughing and stared at her. “A good one?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You can’t be ser—”

  “I’m telling you girls, your momma would be proud.” Daddy’s voice caused Kendra to shut her mouth in haste.

  Tandy chuckled. “She’d be telling us to get our behinds off that dance floor and our noses back in our schoolbooks.”

  “Or that,” Daddy nodded.

  “So who’s your friend?” Tandy tilted her head toward the corner where Zelda stood sipping from a cup.

  Daddy’s face turned the slightest pink. “That’s Zelda Norman.”

  “Daddy’s got a thing for her,” Kendra said.

  “Kendra Sinclair!” Daddy’s voice boomed above the music.

  “What? I’m just giving it to Tandy like it is.”

  “Are you dating her, Daddy?” This was unbelievable. He wouldn’t do that to Momma. Her panicked gaze darted between Daddy and Kendra, searching for an explanation.

  “No, no, nothing like that. We just dance together occasionally and talk.”

  “And she comes over.” Kendra gave a sly smile as she readjusted her bracelets.

  “To our house?” How could Daddy betray Momma like that? Granted, it had been ten years since Momma passed, but still.

  “Only twice. You know your sister, she loves to exaggerate,” Daddy frowned at Kendra.

  “Don’t get all Disapproval Daddy on me. I think it’s great you have somebody to talk with, dance with, and share dinner with.”

  “You have dinner with her?” Tandy had trouble wrapping her mind around this. Daddy. With someone other than Momma. Someone with short, spiky red hair that represented the furthest thing possible from Momma’s long, flowing locks.

  “Every now and then,” Daddy said. “But it’s nothing serious, Tandy. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “What should I not be worried about?” Lawyer mode kicked in and Tandy went on the attack cross-examining the hostile witness. Fists to hips, toes pointed toward the witness, shoulders thrown back. No doubting who held the authority.

  “Well, nothing.” Daddy looked at her warily.

  “Nothing as in what?” Eyes wide, face forward, getting in his space. “Dinner? Visits to the house? Flirting with her in front of the entire town? Which of these is not something that’s characteristic of your relationship with Zelda?” The name caused a bitter taste in her mouth, and she pointed at Daddy’s chest.

  “Oh, Tandy, chill out. He’s not replacing Mom or anything.”

  “And you!” Tandy turned on her flamboyant sister, bearing down on her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this when it started!”

  “Whoa, girl, don’t go judicial system on me.” Kendra held up her hands. “You want to get mad, go ahead and direct that toward Meg. She knew about it first.”

  Tandy stopped in her tracks, thrown. “Meg knows?”

  Kendra nodded. “Joy, too.”

  Her shoulders slumped, hands falling by her sides. “How long have you all known? And why didn’t somebody call me?”

  “Tandy, nobody called you because there was nothing to say.” Daddy shrugged and put his arm around her waist. “I don’t call you every time I make a new friend, and you don’t call me, either.”

  So this was punishment for not calling often enough? If they hadn’t shared this, what else had she been left out of? “So Zelda is just a friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “A friend who comes over and eats at our house, at Momma’s table.”

  “Yes.”

  “A friend you dance with and laugh with.”

  “Yes.”

  She felt the tension in Daddy’s arm. He wasn’t going to back down from her on this. And the sisters must have approved because Zelda sat in the corner waiting on Daddy’s return. They had approved without even calling her. She closed her eyes and tried to accept that.

  “Fine, then.” She turned to Kendra. “I’ve had about all the fun I’d like for one night. You ready to pack it in?”

  “Pack it in? We’ve barely been here an hour!”

  “I can take you home,” Daddy said.

  “No, I don’t want to cut your time with Zelda short.” She waved a hand in dismissal. Let them have their fun. What did it matter? “Y’all go on, and I’ll just get some fresh air.”

  With that, she headed for the door before either of them could protest.

  Thirteen

  Outside the night passed clear and crisp. Tandy tilted her head and took in the dazzling sight of a sky so covered in stars it seemed they’d fall down for lack of space. A cool breeze swept around her legs as she walked the length of the parking lot. Hopping onto the hood of the Beamer, she lay back against the windshield and crossed her legs at the ankles.

  Hiding out beneath the night sky. Meg would call that a great title for a country song. Her feet bounced in rhythm to the drumbeats coming through Heartland’s steel walls. She’d come back to Stars Hill to think about her career. At least, that’s what Mr. Beasley had said. But thinking about her career would mean acknowledging that it didn’t fulfill her the way she’d thought it would. She drummed her fingers against the windshield. Winning cases didn’t produce the emotional high anymore. Like the drugs that held sway over her birth mother for years, the body craved more and more stimulation to achieve the same state of excitement. It hadn’t proved enough.

  Her world had somehow become about defending the likes of Harry Simons. He’d seemed like the ideal man at first glance. Well dressed, well spoken, well heeled, well groomed. A perfectly put together package. His philanthropic endeavors intimated an interest in helping the plight of the homeless, and Tandy had allowed herself to believe that there might actually exist another man like Clay Kelner. He wasn’t as good-looking as Clay, of course, not even in the same ballpark—check that, stratosphere—as Clay. But on paper it appeared that Harry Simons possessed a heart.

  What a difference a few minutes facing the object of his philanthropy revealed!

  Tandy took in a deep lungful of the night air, expanding her lungs in an effort to break the vise that she felt gripping her heart. Orlando could get lonely, but it was also easier. Nothing to be emotionally tangled with other than Cooper. And so long as the kibble remained constant, he wasn’t going anywhere. Shoot, even if it ran out, he’d just sit his big basset rear right down by hers until they’d both died of starvation.

  “Figured it all out yet?” Clay’s voice should have surprised her. It didn’t.

  “Not quite. But give me a few minutes, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  The car tilted a bit as he leaned against it. “Mind some company?”

  Did she? “Guess not.”

  It tilted more as he scooted backward across the hood then swung his legs around to mirror her position. Lacing his fingers behind his head, Clay leaned back against the cold windshield.

  “Okay, I have assumed the appropriate position. What’s the first item up for dissection?”

  “You mean discussion?”

  “That too.”

  Tandy sighed. “Dad’s got a friend.”

  “I thought we already went through this and you were going to let him have his fun.”<
br />
  “Maybe I should have.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I did. I will. I just can’t help feeling he’s somehow betraying Momma.”

  “Don’t you think your mom wouldn’t want your dad to make friends? To live his life?”

  “No, I know they discussed it. I heard them. Momma even told him to go find some other woman and marry her after a while.”

  “I don’t think your dad’s anywhere near marrying Zelda, if that helps.”

  “It does. Some.”

  “Good. So on the topic of Zelda, you’ve decided to understand that your dad is also a human being and would like to have conversations with members of the opposite sex within his own age range.”

  “I don’t remember making a decision. I thought we were discussing.”

  “Dissecting.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes in the darkness.

  “What else is there to know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let me try again. What else about Zelda is bugging you?”

  “That she isn’t Momma?” Tandy turned her head to look at him. She took in his profile, bathed in moon and starlight. Even the heavens loved to highlight the beauty of Clay Kelner’s face.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “He gets to have emotion in his life without her, Taz.” His soft voice imbued the words with meaning.

  “I know that.” She stopped, confused that she didn’t know it until he said so. “I do. I know that.”

  He turned to look at her. “You do?”

  “Of course. Like I said, Momma told Daddy to get married again. I assumed that meant he’d need emotion in his life after her.” She looked back up at the stars and crossed her hands over her abdomen.

  After a minute Clay turned to the sky again and said, “She really is a good woman. Zelda. I checked her out when I first saw them together.”

  “You what?”

  “I did some digging. You don’t have to put forth a lot of effort in Stars Hill to find out about someone.”