Emily paused on the steps of the church to hug her children.
"Be happy, Mother," Dixie cried, and to Bernie she added, "Take care of each other."
Dixie spotted Mrs. Butie in the background and approached her apprehensively. Mending fences wouldn't be easy, but Dixie hated leaving with anyone angry with her.
"Hello, Mrs. Butie." She couldn't help but notice the far-away look in the old woman's eye. "I'm so glad you could come."
"I hate to admit it, Dixie, but that was one heck of a nice wedding. So discreet. So simple and elegant. Emily deserves to be happy. I've seen the change in her and envied it. I was wrong. I'll admit it. Please tell her for me, will you, Dixie? I don't know why, but I always get a little emotional during weddings. I guess you'll be going home now."
Home? Somehow New York no longer seemed like home. Dixie agreed to stay over a night or two so that her mother could have a short honeymoon with Bernie. Then she would leave.
"Yes, shortly, I'm afraid. I've enjoyed my vacation. But now it's time to get back to work. And thank you, Mrs. Butie. I'm glad you feel that way about mother. She needs friends. She'll be glad, too." Dixie touched the woman's arm.
Dixie stood on the church steps with her brothers, tears welling in her eyes. Mike had disappeared without a word, and there was no sign of Mandy anywhere. Dixie had probably seen the last of them. Her heart sank at the thought.
"Dixie, it was great seeing you again. I hope the next time you're here, you'll come visit longer." Kevin and June approached her. Dixie watched them together, noticing how in tune they both seemed to each other's moves. Soul mates, she decided with a smile. Kevin really was happy, and she was happy for him.
"Thank you, I'll try. I'm going to miss everyone so much. It's hard leaving, knowing you'll be gone a long time."
"Then perhaps you should stay?" June suggested.
"I wish I could. I…tell Mike goodbye for me, will you?"
"Of course, but won't you be seeing him?"
"I doubt it."
"We'll tell him," Kevin assured her.
"Are you leaving when Mom gets back?" Will asked, not leaving her side for a minute.
"Yes, honey, I am." She saw his face fall and the disappointment she caused. "I don't want to, but I have to." Dixie blinked hard, and wiped at the single tear that escaped. How could she say goodbye to them again? They'd be grown by the next time she came back. Now that she was home, how could she leave?
"Will you come back and visit?" Tom asked as they walked slowly down the road to the car.
"Sure, and maybe I can send for you two next summer. Would you come to New York and spend the summer?"
"Sure we would." Will scuffed his shoe into the dirt as though he didn't believe it.
They didn't belong in New York, Dixie reasoned. They belonged right here, in Wylie, where life was still good—still country. Even though the small town had begun to grow and the countryside was disappearing fast, it still managed to maintain its wonderful small town atmosphere and friendliness.
She missed them already. Somehow this parting seemed harder than the first. "You know I love you both very much, don't you?"
"Yeah," they chorused, neither smiling. "You won't wait another seven years, will you?
"No, I promise I won't wait that long ever again." Dixie hugged them to her.
"Are you gonna marry that Ed character?" Will asked a long time later.
"No, I'm not. I don't love him. Although I respect him, and think of him as a close friend, I don't think marriage would work with Ed."
How could she say yes, when her heart belonged to someone else? Someone she couldn't have. Someone who'd given up on her!
The next day Dixie got a call from a frantic Ms. Ferris.
"Is Emily home yet, Dixie?" Ms. Ferris asked, sounding rather desperate.
"Why no, she's still on her honeymoon. Is something wrong?"
The older woman stammered a moment then hastened to explain her predicament. "I'm trying to find someone to watch Amanda for a while. I've not been feeling well, and I need to go to the doctor. I've put it off as long as I dare. I wouldn't inconvenience Emily otherwise. Sorry to have bothered you."
"Wait, Ms. Ferris, there's no problem. Bring Mandy over. I'll be glad to watch her while you go to the doctor," Dixie said.
"Oh, I couldn't impose. I know you're on vacation."
"Nonsense, I'd enjoy it. Bring her over, Ms. Ferris," Dixie insisted with a chuckle in her voice. "Mandy and I get along very well. I'm sure we'd both enjoy it."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, I'll be looking for you."
Tom and Will strolled through the kitchen and looked at the breakfast facing them. "Boy, even Mom isn't this fast."
"Probably because she's never in that big a hurry. I always am. Everything is rush, rush, rush in New York. I usually grab something out of the refrigerator before I go to work, but there is no telling what it might be. Better eat up," Dixie instructed, "the bus will be around soon."
"We wish you wouldn't go. We worry about you. Who's going to take care of you?"
"I can take care of myself, honey. And there's nothing to worry about. Write to me often though. That would be nice."
"Who was that on the phone?" Tom asked curiously.
"Ms. Ferris. She's sick and needs someone to watch Amanda for a while," Dixie replied serving their oatmeal and toast with a smile.
"And you volunteered?" Tom asked.
"Sure."
Will glanced up. "What's wrong with Ms. Ferris?"
"I don't know. She said she'd been feeling ill lately and needed to go to the doctor. She'd put it off as long as possible. She thought Mom was home, and was going to ask her to baby-sit."
"Ms. Ferris is rarely ever sick. And she doesn't trust many people to watch Amanda. Mike probably told her it was okay if you took Amanda, otherwise Ms. Ferris wouldn't do it. She never leaves her without Mike's permission. You should have heard her the other day after church. She was so upset about Mrs. Butie watching her during the Bazaar."
"Oh? What did she say?" Dixie asked as she washed the oatmeal pot.
"That Mrs. Butie wouldn't let Amanda have any fun. She said she would have taken her around if she could have stayed out there long enough. Guess she hasn't been feeling well for a while. But we saw to it that Mandy had fun. She rode everything out there at least twice."
"I'm glad. Poor Ms. Ferris, poor little Mandy," Dixie said. "I'll see that she has some fun, today."
"What are you going to do?" Tom asked, watching his sister intently.
"I don't know yet, but it won't be dull." Dixie chuckled.
An hour later, the boys were gone, and Dixie finished cleaning the kitchen when Ms. Ferris knocked on the door.
"I certainly appreciate this, Dixie. I wouldn't leave Amanda with just anyone, but she talks about you nonstop, and I'm sure Mike would approve." Ms. Ferris sat Amanda down on the couch beside her.
"I'm glad to do it. In fact, I think I have an idea, Mandy."
The little girl walked over to Dixie and smiled. "What?"
"I know most little girls and boys like cookies. And we don't have any. So, I thought you and I could make cookies together this morning. How does that sound?"
Mandy's eyes got big, and round. "You mean I can help?"
"Sure you can. I'm counting on you."
"Oh, that sounds like fun, Amanda," Ms. Ferris said with a smile. "I see I'm leaving you in very smart hands. Well, I'll be off. Here's the doctor's number in case you need to reach me. Mike is out of town at a cattle buying auction so it's impossible to reach him."
"I'm sure everything will be fine, Ms. Ferris. Please don't worry about her. And take care of yourself." Dixie smiled, pulling Mandy into her arms and snuggling her. Suddenly Dixie's eyes misted; it felt so right being with Mandy. Who would take care of her when she left? Who would mother her, love her, and kiss her boo-boos?
Mike was a wonderful father, though and he'd fill the gaps.
>
How Amanda managed to steal her heart so quickly, Dixie didn't know. She only knew it would be terribly hard leaving her.
Putting gloomy thoughts behind her, Dixie took Mandy's hand and led her into the kitchen. She sat Mandy on a kitchen tool, pulled it close to the counter and gathered all the needed supplies for their cookies. Funny how she happened to remember her first cooking experience with Emily at that moment. Emily had the patience of Job.
Amanda sat watching, her eyes full of curiosity. She got her hands in the flour, and noticed all the fun designs she could make on the counter.
"Are we going to make chocolate cookies?"
"Chocolate chip, yes. Do you like them?"
"Uh-huh. Daddy likes cookies, too."
"Well, we'll have to save him some then. We'll pack a bag that you can take home with you. How's that?"
When the dough got too stiff for Mandy to beat, Dixie took over but gave Mandy the task of spooning it onto the cookie sheets. Naturally they had to get their hands in it, Dixie explained.
An hour later, Mandy was knee deep in flour and laughing as she spooned the last sheet of cookie dough for the oven. Her globs of dough were too big, and not evenly spaced, but Dixie didn't care; they were having fun.
"My cookies are bigger than yours," Mandy laughed.
"I know. How did you do that?"
"I don't know." Mandy giggled. "Can we have one now?" she asked, eyeing the stack of cooling cookies.
"Oh, yes, we have to taste them. We can't let anybody else eat our cookies until we're sure they're good, can we? Hmmm, I think we'll need at least two or three to be sure. What do you think?"
Mandy laughed and clapped her hands together.
After pouring her a big glass of milk, Dixie set a small plate of cookies before the little girl.
Mandy was covered in flour and dough, and a big smile.
"I wish you were my mommy," she said sadly, as Dixie began to clean her face and hands.
"You do?" Dixie looked down into her troubled face.
"My friend Trisha has a mommy, and she's nice. But I like you even better than her." Mandy's face screwed up into a frown. "Will you be my mommy, Aunt Dixie?"
"Well, Mandy, I'd love to, but it's a little more complicated than that." Dixie hesitated. She wanted to assure Mandy that someday she'd have the mother she always wanted, but how could she?
"Why is it com-icated?"
Dixie smiled, smoothing Mandy's hair away from her face. "First, your Daddy has to ask me, and love me and—"
"But Daddy does love you. I know he does. And he likes you a lot. Better than Janet. I don't like Janet. I don't want him to marry her. He's says you're going away, and I won't see you for a long time. Are you going away, Aunt Dixie?"
"Yes, honey, I am. Amanda, you want your father to be happy, don't you?"
Mandy frowned, and then nodded.
"Well, then, if he decides to marry Janet, you must try to be happy for him. For his sake. Give Janet a chance, darling, I'm sure things will work out.
"But I love you …"
"I know, sweetheart, and I love you very much, too. But, well, we don't always get what we want."
"Then why can't you be my pretend mommy?"
"I guess that would be all right for a little while." Dixie wanted to cry, but knew better. It made perfect sense to a child. Why couldn't a thirty-year-old man see it? Why couldn't she be Mandy's for real mother?
"Tell you what, let's eat our cookies, then we'll go in the living room and watch cartoons together, and you can tell me all about why Bugs Bunny eats so many carrots," Dixie encouraged.
"Okay, but I don't know either." Amanda shrugged.
"Then you should think about that a while," Dixie instructed hoping she had put the idea of pretend mommy away for a while.
They were in the middle of a wrestling session when Ms. Ferris walked in.
"Thank you for watching her, Dixie. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't." Ms. Ferris smiled.
"Anytime, it was great fun. Are you feeling any better?"
"Just a kidney flare up. I'll be fine now that I have some medicine. I know Mike would appreciate knowing you helped."
"W…will he be back soon?"
"In another couple of days, I'm sure."
Not soon enough. She'd be leaving in a couple of days. Dixie felt her heart sink. Trying not to dwell on her own feelings she asked, "You really enjoy working for Mike, don't you?"
"Oh, dear, yes. I've never had a family of my own. Taking care of others has always been my job. I used to work in a nursing home. When Mike and Mandy moved back to town, he put an ad in the paper and I applied immediately, since poor old Mrs. Williams died. She was such a dear and I'm afraid I got too close to her. I just couldn't take it any more. But … I wish Mike would find himself a nice young woman and get married. He often seems so lonely. He tries not to let on, but I've seen him staring off into space, lately, as though he had something important on his mind. I only hope it isn't that Janet Wilkinson."
"Oh? Why do you say that?"
"For her sake," she said, gesturing toward a nearly sleeping Amanda.
This revelation hit Dixie in the heart. Mike—lonely? He needn't be, she thought whimsically.
"At least he has you." Dixie assured her.
"I only hope I can stay around when he does find someone."
"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't dream of letting you go."
"I hope not. But that might depend on whom he marries. Well, thanks again, Dixie, and come visit us sometime."
"I will, and thank you. Bye, Mandy."
Yawning and stretching, the tired little girl gave Dixie a kiss on her cheek and whispered, "I love you."
"I love you too, darling." Dixie cried the rest of the all afternoon.
CHAPTER TEN
Two days later in New York, Dixie tried to wipe away the gloom. She expected to feel better. She didn't. A knot in her throat grew, the pain in her heart swelled. Entering her empty apartment, she immediately felt the void. She missed her brothers making racket all day long. She missed Emily fussing over her. She missed two large, dark brown eyes staring at her lovingly, wanting her to play pretend Mom. And, most of all … she missed Mike.
Ed explained that she had several scheduled interviews the next day with a couple of offbeat journalists. Dixie nodded, assuring herself that the sooner she got back to work, the better she'd feel. Her work usually kept her so busy she had little time to contemplate much of anything else. She needed to put overwhelming thoughts of Mike—and what could have been—out of her mind.
The first night home, Ed wanted to talk business, but Dixie was exhausted and insisted on a good night's sleep, telling him she worked better when well rested. She wished she had someone to confide in. Perhaps she'd feel better if she could unload some of her sorrow.
The next six weeks passed in a haze and Dixie was busier than ever. Her tour schedule had been messed up and the details were jumbled. On top of that, severe weather necessitated a change in flight schedules. Ed had also scheduled her to do a concert in Chicago on the 4th and she dreaded it.
She found herself cranky and out of sorts. She had headaches frequently. Nothing seemed to please her. The harder she worked, the harder she pushed herself to work.
During the little time she had for herself she began to write music. Creating the music she yearned to sing, she put her all into it. While her work sounded good, it definitely wasn't rock.
Would it sell? The gamble might be worth it.
When she showed Ed the fruits of her creative labor, he screwed up his handsome face and glared at her. "You're a rock star, for crying out loud. What are you writing this for, love? This is the stuff Nashville creates." He spat the word Nashville with distaste.
"I like it, Ed. It's what I've always wanted to do."
***
"Are you ill?" Ed asked one night, after a long struggle in the conference room about a delayed concert.
Dixie had been
working long hours to catch up on her recording contract and had spent the entire day arguing over a contract that was already signed. She sighed as she thought how pointless it all seemed.
"I'm fine," she lied. Of course, she wasn't fine at all. She wanted to go home. Where she knew she belonged. Her heart wasn't in her music any longer. She longed to write music, not be a performer.
Dixie felt a distinct state of unease creeping over her. She became temperamental, and late for rehearsals. She became increasingly more difficult to work with.
"I'm not so sure." Ed paced her apartment with a purpose. "You've been a pain in the butt to work with, love. You're beginning to build a bad reputation for being difficult in the industry. Taking ten-minute breaks every half-hour. Refusing concerts, not wanting to do interviews. How can you possibly stay at the top of the charts, if your fans don't see you?"
Fans. Another draining part of her life. She no longer looked forward to the swell of the crowds, or the backstage moments with young hopefuls wanting her autograph. Just walking off a stage and going straight home was beginning to hold enormous appeal. Not that she didn't appreciate her fans; but the total lack of privacy was unbearable at times.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" Ed asked gently.
Dixie heaved a monumental sigh, knowing Ed wouldn't leave her alone until he knew. "When I was a little girl, I wanted to write compositions. Performing before an audience was never my dream. That's one of the main reasons I chose rock music, because I could hide behind the facade. I wrote a lot of songs back then and I kept them. I held on to that dream. And when I grew up, I was determined to have it my way. I never realized my dream, but I came as close to it as I could get. I'm tired, Ed. I'm too old for this charade anymore. I want to go home."
"Methinks I hear the biological clock ticking. Maybe we should get married," he suggested hopefully.
Dixie indulged in another long sigh. "It wouldn't work, Ed. I'd make you miserable. I…I'm very fond of you … I care about you a great deal, but …" She hesitated, not wanting to hurt him.
"If you love me at all, it's enough, Dixie," he said, his face more serious than she expected. "We're good together. I could manage your career, and you could lean on me more."
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