Pretend Mom

by Hestand, Rita

  "Could you be my mommy?" Amanda asked.

  "Oh! Honey! I . . ." She hesitated. Seeing the look in the little girl's face made her heart melt.

  "For pretend, I mean," Amanda clarified, and Dixie breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

  "Okay, just pretend."

  Amanda pranced about, then come running up to Dixie who was sitting on the floor, cross-legged. "Oh, Mommy, Mommy, I hurt myself. Kiss it and make it better, please."

  Dixie giggled and fell back against the floor with Amanda in her arms, laughing and kissing her upturned finger to make it better.

  The door flew open and Mike walked in. He stopped abruptly, his eyes going over the both of them. "I think we better go, Mandy," he said.

  "We were just …"

  "Yes, I know. Thanks for supper. Goodnight." Mike grabbed his daughter and held her in his arms, stalking out the door.

  What had she done wrong, now?

  Later, Dixie related the incident to her mother. "We were just playing dress up. Is there something wrong with that?"

  Emily looked at her seriously and nodded. "I think I know what hit Mike. Amanda is quickly growing fond of you. She wants to call you Mommy. Don't you see? You'll be leaving, and then what will she have? Mike sees it too."

  The next morning Dixie dressed quickly in faded jeans and T-shirt, as usual. She hurried down to the kitchen where her mother was busy preparing breakfast. It was already warm this morning, and the noisy antics of a family of blue jays were busy rousting out a couple of scissor tails from their favorite cottonwood tree. Naturally, the blue jays were winning the battle.

  "Let's have some fresh mush melons this morning, dear," Emily suggested brightly.

  "Sounds good. Will put some in the bottom of the fridge the other night."

  Emily shook her head and pointed to the sink where she had laid them out to be cut.

  Two sleepyheads bounded down the stairs in unison, with sheepish grins on their faces as they slipped into the chairs at the table. "What time does the shindig start, Mom?" Tom asked with a yawn.

  Emily had already dressed in an attractive two-piece lavender pantsuit, protected by a generous sized apron. "At noon, but I won't have you skipping classes to get there early. It will run all weekend so you will have plenty of time to enjoy it."

  "Aw-heck, Mom, it's just summer school. It wouldn't hurt any to be absent one day," Will said.

  "You heard me, William Martin Kincaid." Emily tossed the reprimand over her shoulder in a parental scowl. "Besides, if you'd paid more attention to your lessons during the regular school term, you wouldn't have to go to summer school to make it up." As an afterthought she added, "But as soon as school lets out you can rush on over and help Old Man Tucker with his tents. We'll need about three this year, and you know how slow he is. I promised him the two of you would be there to help out. Then, you can cut loose on your own."

  Dixie placed the melons in front of them, noting the decided frowns on their faces as they dug into the same piece, then split it with their forks.

  Tom looked up at Dixie. "Mom's entered in the cook-off this year. Her Wild Plum Preserves."

  "I know," Dixie smiled at them, "and since Bernie's the judge, how can she possibly lose? Not that her preserves can't stand on their own, of course."

  Emily blushed.

  "Too bad you aren't entered in the beauty contest, sis," Will remarked.

  Dixie shook her head. "Oh, no thank you! That's not my cup of tea. I may be naturally thin, but I'm not curvy. I think I'm more the brainy type. Besides, I've never liked parading in front of ogling men. I'm sure Janet has it sewn up, anyway. Besides, I'm going to be busy at the baseball throw."

  Tom laughed. "Selling tickets, I hope."

  "Not exactly." Dixie hesitated to tell them, glancing at her mother for support.

  Tom and Will both stopped what they were doing. "You mean your gonna let them take pot-shots at you?"

  "That's the general idea of the game."

  "I don't think you ought to do that, sis," Will stated, a very serious look on his handsome young face. "There's always someone in the crowd who likes to show off. You could drown."

  Dixie scoffed. "I'll take my chances. I'm a good swimmer. Besides, it's for a good cause. And as far as I know, no one has ever drowned at a charity function." She grinned.

  Emily looked worried again. "Maybe you ought to help me out instead, Dixie, and forget about that old baseball throw. After all, the baseball throw can get a little out of hand when the wrong people happen by. There's always someone who wants to show off during these events. Last year Nancy Summers volunteered and went home in tears when a bully kept dunking her over and over. It seems some people just can't get enough of showing off. So maybe you shouldn't, I mean especially after what Mike said …"

  "Nonsense! It's all in fun. Mike is a worrywart. I can handle this, guys. Have some faith, will you? I'm a natural for this. I'm sure I can draw a crowd, and it's all for a good cause."

  "I never even asked, but do you have a bathing suit?"

  Dixie frowned. "An old one. I'd better check its condition. It's a little skimpy, but I guess it's decent enough." Dixie smiled, passing the corn flakes to her worried looking brothers.

  "All the girls in the beauty contest will be wearing bikinis."

  "Really? My, things are certainly changing around here, aren't they? Why, I can remember when Old Man Tucker wouldn't allow the girls to wear shorts out there."

  Emily nodded with a smile. "He still doesn't approve of it, but he's getting old now and people just aren't paying much attention to his suggestions any more. Mike's on the town counsel now, and I think that has a lot to do with it. They've needed some young blood in there for a long time."

  "He is? Well, things are changing. I never realized how involved he was in the community. But then, I suppose if you live here long enough, you get involved in everything."

  Tom snickered. "You ought to see Janet's bikini. Boy, none of the guys will take their eyes off of her when she walks on stage. I mean skimpy. She's a cinch to win. Everybody knows she's the prettiest girl in town."

  "'Cept for sis," Will injected, jabbing his brother in the ribs.

  "Aw, that don't count, she's our sister," Tom defended himself.

  "By the way, Will, who was that girl I saw you talking to the other day, after school?" Dixie inquired.

  Will frowned and turned beet-red.

  "That was no girl. That was Crystal Watkins." Tom snickered. "Will's got a girlfriend."

  "I do not."

  "Do so."

  They argued all the way out the front door. After they caught the school bus, Dixie went to check on her swimsuit. She held the bright colored one-piece against her and smiled. It always looked great on her, bringing out the best of her skin tone. But it certainly wasn't in style anymore. She shook her head. What the heck, she wasn't in the beauty contest, anyway. Who was going to be paying attention to her with ten or twenty beauties running around? That's what she liked about coming home; she wasn't the center of attention anymore, and she was enjoying it. Wasn't she?

  CHAPTER SIX

  After rounding up all the needed supplies, Dixie and Emily headed for the fair grounds. There were mounds of tickets to unravel, count and divide between the booths. Supplies for the Bingo tents and chuck wagons had to be delivered and set up. Dixie spent most of the morning distributing bits of this and that for Emily.

  Excited, and apprehensive, Dixie was happy to be among a crowd of people again. Everyone greeted her with a smile as though they weren't sure if they were glad to see her or not. Or maybe they just didn't recognize her. Still, Dixie wasn't bashful or shy; she felt in her element and liked the entire goings on.

  Delighted to see Old Man Tucker again, Dixie almost hugged him. The tall, gangly, old man tipped his bald head to her and shot her a half-crooked smile. He didn't really say much to her, just grunted, but nothing had changed with him, she realized. And despite that growling appearance, she
could tell he was glad to see her. That grim foreboding expression he wore didn't bother Dixie a bit; she knew that was just his way.

  About to run out of errands, Dixie spotted Mrs. Fowler having a time counting her tickets. Over and over she began. She couldn't stay focused. Every time someone walked by and spoke, she smiled, nodded and lost count.

  Seeing her dilemma, Dixie walked towards her. Mrs. Fowler was a petite woman of seventy-two years, eager to join in on things, but a bit slow. People tolerated her because she had such a sweet nature. She greeted Dixie with a snaggle-toothed grin and thanked her for the help. Some of the other ladies were already pressing her for her count.

  "I keep losing the count, dear," she told Dixie with a slight chuckle.

  "I'll help you, Mrs. Fowler."

  "Why thank you, dear. Aren't you Emily's daughter?"

  "Why, yes, I'm surprised you recognized me."

  "Oh, yes, I remember you." She chuckled. "You used to sing in the church all the time, didn't you?"

  "That's right, but I didn't think anyone would remember that!" Dixie laughed.

  "Beautiful voice, just beautiful. You sang at my Frank's funeral, too, didn't you?"

  "Yes, ma'am, I did."

  "My Frank would have loved that. He loved singing."

  An hour later, taking a short break, Dixie tied her hair back with a string from the supply box. She was still wiping away the perspiration when she spotted Janet and waved.

  Janet hadn't been much of a friend in school, but right now Dixie felt like reaching out. Janet happened to be the first young person she encountered since her return. At least they were close to the same age, Dixie laughed to herself. Maybe now, they might have more in common.

  Janet wasn't hard to notice—and most men seldom did—with her shiny dark hair, huge brown eyes, and a figure made for Hollywood.

  However, Dixie hadn't seen the rather reluctant Mike Dalton lagging behind Janet, and once she spotted him, Janet insisted on greeting Dixie with all smiles.

  Talk about leading a bull by the horns, Dixie thought, smiling to herself. Mike looked about as happy as a bull in a pen full of other bulls.

  Janet tossed her short, thick, black hair in Mike's face, and smiled at Dixie. "How wonderful to see you again, Dixie. It's been so long. I've been meaning to come to New York and visit you, but I've been rather busy."

  "Oh, I wish you would sometime, Janet. It'd be fun having an old friend around."

  Obviously surprised by Dixie's warmth, Janet smiled again. "I'll consider it an invitation then."

  "Great. So, how have you been?"

  "Wonderful. I'm thinking seriously of going into modeling."

  "Really? How exciting for you. I'm sure you'd do well—you're so tall and thin," Dixie remarked, casting Mike a quick appraisal. "So, are you here to enjoy the festivities, or to work?"

  "Both, of course."

  "Where's Amanda?" Dixie inquired.

  "Aunt Nell has her," Janet answered before Mike could get a word in edgewise. "She'll keep her busy most of the day. She's teaching her basket weaving. Aunt Nell's a great babysitter, isn't she, Mike?"

  Mike nodded. "Yeah, great." His eyes strayed to Dixie in frustration. "But I did promise to show her around, Janet. There's so much to enjoy out here. She's missing it, I'm afraid."

  "There's plenty of time for that, later. After all, you don't want to spoil the child, Mike," Janet scolded lightly.

  Again Dixie's heartbeat quickened when tawny gold eyes searched hers, for understanding and help. But he'd gotten himself into this mess, so he could get himself out, Dixie decided.

  Dixie couldn't help noticing that Mike looked good enough to eat. She sighed. She didn't need to get mixed up with Mike Dalton and his daughter. But deep down, she realized Amanda had already stolen her heart, and her father could too, if he were to try.

  Janet eyed Dixie, then Mike.

  What was left to say to Janet? Dixie wondered. She had absolutely nothing in common with this airhead young woman, and she knew it. Janet had always been full of herself. At least Dixie had made the effort to converse, she reasoned.

  "Well," Dixie shrugged, and went around them, "it's wonderful to see you again, but it looks as though Mom could use my help. Would you excuse me?"

  It was a cop out and they all knew it, but she couldn't help it. Just because Mike made himself miserable was no reason for her to stick around. She did have to admit, though, that it bothered her standing there watching Mike be miserable with this lovely, shallow creature. Of course, it served him right.

  Turning back to hand Mrs. Fowler the tickets and writing down the count, she gave Mike a quick knowing smile, and hurried off to join Emily at the Pavilion.

  This was the first time she'd seen Mike in public and he had barely spoken. She couldn't help but feel just a tad sorry for herself. Maybe he'd been putting on some kind of act around her. Maybe it was because of Kevin. Of course it was. How foolish to think Mike had any real interest in her.

  And where was Kevin? Oh, God, her heart plummeted; maybe she shouldn't see Kevin at all. He was married, and she wouldn't interfere in Kevin's life now. Even though a certain party didn't believe it. It was true. Married men just didn't appeal to Dixie.

  And she didn't need unmarried men like Mike Dalton, either!

  She found Emily setting up a showcase of homemade novelties for the contest. Among the long list of entries were Emily's wild plum preserves. Dixie picked the jar up, examined it as though she knew exactly what she was doing, and assured Emily she was bound to win.

  Bernie was there with Emily, watching the two of them working together and smiling contritely as though something were on his mind.

  Dixie barely recognized him. His hair had thinned, and he looked much leaner than before, if that was possible. However, age hadn't taken the sparkle out of his eyes when he looked at Emily. Oh, yes, things were definitely heating up here.

  Obviously, Bernie Sanders was in love with her mom. Dixie marveled at the two of them and how they exchanged glances. How her mother smiled. Oh, yes, this was serious.

  Loneliness was a bad thing; Dixie knew that much from experience. She wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially her mom.

  Hesitantly, Bernie joined them. "You know, I think your mother has a winner this year, Dixie!"

  "I think you're right, Bernie. I've tried it myself, and I do believe this is the best batch she's ever made. The color is so pure too. So, look you two, what can I do to help around here?" Dixie asked.

  "As a matter of fact," Bernie winked, "there's plenty to be done. You came to the right source. I need someone to log the names in on the register and label signs for each one. Would you have the time for that much work?"

  Dixie smiled and picked the pen from his jacket pocket. "You just show me where to start."

  Bernie nodded and led Dixie off to the side. Glancing over his shoulder he smiled at Emily. "I'm glad you had the sense to bring this daughter of yours, Emily."

  Dixie caught the affection in his eyes.

  "Dixie," Bernie whispered, "I wanted to talk to you away from your mother. I know you don't remember me too well. I don't know if she's told you anything about us or not. But I want to. I hope you don't think I'm moving in on your mother too quickly. It's just that, at my age, time can be pretty important. You can sit around wasting it, if you know what I mean. I'm in love with her, Dixie. It's as simple as that."

  Dixie beamed. "How wonderful for you, Bernie. How wonderful for Mom. Don't be silly, Bernie, of course I don't mind. I'm actually very happy for both of you. I guess you know I want what's best for her. I know how much she loved dad, but I don't think even he'd want to see her all alone. He's gone, and he left a big void in her life. Maybe you can fill that void."

  Bernie let out a long held breath. "You know from the moment I saw you this morning, I had the feeling you'd react this way, but it's great to be sure. It makes me very happy to hear you talk like this; very happy."

  "I'm glad."
Dixie touched his roughened hand.

  "Great, 'cause I aim to pop the question sometime today."

  "Really?" Dixie's eyes lit with surprise. "Oh, Bernie, that's wonderful. Congratulations."

  Bernie scratched his chin and lifted a worried face to the wind. "Not yet, Dixie. You were the easy part; she's going to be the hard part."

  Dixie arched a brow, unable to comprehend Bernie's obstacle. "Why, Bernie, Mom thinks the world of you. How could she possibly say no?"

  Bernie continued to frown, "I know she does, but it's that nosy, busy-body, Mrs. Butie. She's been putting ideas into her head about how she should raise the boys first. You know I've already spoken to them. I couldn't ask for a nicer couple of kids, really. We could all get on very comfortably. But I'm afraid I've got a lot of convincing to do where you mother's concerned."

  Dixie looked Bernie over, noting the nervous way he wiped the sweat from his brow. Poor Bernie. "Don't worry. I'll talk to her."

  "Would you?" His pale blue eyes sparkled with renewed hope.

  With his confidence restored, he showed Dixie what to do and left her. She sat at a cardboard table working with the register.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of women from the auxiliary looking at her. They were carrying on a conversation and watching her every move. It appeared she was the center of another gossip session. Oh well, if they only knew how many times editors had blasted her in her quick move to the top of the charts.

  Suddenly a shadow towered over her, disturbing her train of thought. When she looked up, she locked gazes with Mike, a shock, because his gaze penetrated her like a touch. That was happening a lot lately. She had to stop reacting to Mike as though every look he gave was meant as a seduction.

  "Something wrong?" she asked, surprised to see him without Janet.

  His face placid, his hand covered her arm. "I was wondering if you had changed your mind about tonight?" Mike's tone was husky

  "Tonight? Oh, the baseball throw? Now why should I change my mind, Mike? I want to help out in any way I can. Mom asked me to do it, and I told her I would. I don't usually go back on my word. Besides, I think it will be fun."