“Yes.”
“Nealy didn’t send those kids off in anger. She picked her time and did what she had to do so Nick would run to you. The same goes for Emmie. She didn’t count on the girl being pregnant, though. What I’m trying to tell you is, she knew the kids would never have left her otherwise. Emmie would have kept on clinging to her. I hope I said all this right. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”
“Yes. Well, I’ll be damned. And of course the kids have no idea?”
“None. She thinks they hate her. Are they really doing okay, Mr. Littletree?”
“They’re doing just fine. Before you know it, Nick is going to be one wild-ass attorney. Emmie is a wonderful mother. It’s working. Thanks for clueing me in. I won’t say a word. See you tomorrow.”
Smitty was halfway to the house before the word tomorrow registered fully. “Well, hot damn!”
“Smitty, Smitty, guess what! Nealy has a date tomorrow with Hatch. He’s flying back tomorrow. Six o’clock is the zero hour,” Ruby shouted.
“That doesn’t give us much time,” Smitty said, tossing the mail on the kitchen table. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
9
Nealy propped her feet up on the porch railing. She closed her eyes, and mumbled, “This just isn’t worth it. It’s only a dinner. Why do I have to go through all this?” Her eyes snapped open to plead with Ruby and Smitty.
“The man is flying here from New Mexico to take you to dinner, so it’s more than a dinner. It’s an event. A happy event. It’s a happening. You need to get with the program here, Nealy,” Smitty chastised.
Nealy turned to Ruby as if for support. “You have to do this because,” Ruby said patiently, “your social skills are not the best. You have to learn to relax. I think a good stiff drink before you leave, another one before dinner at the club, and you should be loose enough to carry on a conversation. What do you think, Smitty?”
Smitty nodded. She started to sweep the front porch, more to have something to do than anything else. “You’re supposed to be excited, Nealy. You look positively miserable.”
“That’s because I am miserable. Look, I can hold up my end of the conversation if the talk is about horses. I can talk about the kids. You made me read yesterday’s paper and the one that came this morning. I know them by heart. What do you really think the chances are of Hatch wanting to talk about what’s in the paper? Zip, that’s what. And you can forget about trying to get me to wear high heels. I’d probably fall and break my neck. I have a nice dress, new underwear. I’m going to wear makeup. My eyebrows are plucked, my hair has been styled, I have perfume. Okay, okay. What’s next?”
Ruby refolded the shawl she’d brought down from Nealy’s closet. “It must be ninety degrees today. Even so, you’re still going to need to take a shawl because the air-conditioning at the club is cold. That means you’ll shiver and be uncomfortable. When you’re uncomfortable conversation becomes difficult, you tend to get cold, and then you have to go to the bathroom a lot. Let me see you smile like you mean it.”
Nealy grimaced for Ruby’s benefit. “Damn it, why can’t I just be me? I’m not even sure I like this man. He’s not coming here for me, he’s coming because of the kids. He probably thinks he has to do this out of some misguided feeling for Hunt. I truly believe he was just being polite when he asked me to dinner.”
Ruby crossed her arms and gave Nealy a long-suffering look. “You can’t be just you because, you, Nealy, are boring as hell,” she said, her bluntness raising both Nealy’s and Smitty’s eyebrows. In spite of their shocked expressions, she maintained her stance. “He wasn’t being polite. The kids might have a small part to do with it but not a whole lot. I think he wants to get to know you. He’s a widower and you’re a widow. I rest my case,” Ruby said as she plucked a yellow leaf off a crimson geranium.
“Another thing, Nealy, don’t order six desserts to ‘taste test’ like you usually do. If you think you’re going to be nervous, order something soft so you don’t have to chew. That way you can just swallow. One dessert,” Smitty said firmly.
Nealy grimaced again. “Soft food. One dessert. I think I can handle that.”
“And don’t offer to pay half.” Ruby grinned.
“Not a chance,” Nealy quipped. “Look at that sun. It’s a beautiful day today, just like yesterday. No humidity even though it’s hot. We should water these geraniums, they’re starting to wilt. The porch is pretty in the summer. Why can’t we just have dinner here and sit on the porch and watch the stars? That to me is the perfect date.”
Smitty shook her head in disgust.
“Because that’s not a date.” Ruby sighed. “You can sit out here when you get back from your date. You can sit here all night in your new underwear if you like. Oh, Smitty, I wish you could have seen her in Victoria’s Secret yesterday. For the first five minutes she looked like she stepped into hell. Then she bought one of everything. There’s nothing like lacy underwear. I used to have a ton of it. Not anymore, though. Now I wear undershirts.”
Nealy paled at the meaning behind Ruby’s words. “Oh, Ruby, I’m so sorry,” she said, leaping off her chair.
“I swear to God, I didn’t give that . . . you . . . a thought. How could I have been so stupid? See, that’s what I mean. You want me to be one of those folderol women, and it isn’t me. I wear cotton underwear because it’s comfortable and I sweat a lot. It must have been awful for you when I was buying all those bras.”
Ruby took Nealy’s hands in hers and smiled. “No, Nealy, it wasn’t awful at all. I had one little pang, and that’s the truth. I’m just so damn grateful to be alive that lacy bras are the least of my worries. Things like that are not important.”
Nealy eyed Ruby and knew in her heart she was speaking the truth. She nodded. “I’m not sure of the dress. It’s sleeveless, and my arms are so muscular.”
“Your arms aren’t muscular, they’re like steel rods,” Smitty shot back. “You’re wearing the dress, and that’s final. It looks good on you. It makes your eyes more brilliant. You’re wearing those diamond earrings Ruby gave you a few years ago, too. They aren’t too big, and with your new haircut they’ll go perfectly. We’re going to make a lady out of you yet.”
Nealy gasped. “Am I that bad? You make me sound like a scrubwoman. You told me I was okay at the first Derby Ball I went to, Smitty.”
“You were okay looks-wise, but if you remember, you were there for five whole minutes and then you hightailed it out of there. You should have stuck it out and mingled. Because you didn’t, people are saying you think you’re too good to associate with them.”
Nealy gasped again. It seemed this was her day for reality checks. “Who said that?”
“Everyone, that’s who,” Smitty sniped. “Now buckle down and let’s get on with it. It’s almost lunchtime, and you have to take a nice, long, scented bubble bath and then a little nap so you’re raring to go.”
“Yeah, right,” she said, shooting Smitty a twisted smile. She threw her hands up in the air. “God, the things I let you two talk me into. This better be worth all this effort,” Nealy said, sitting down again and crossing her ankles the way Ruby instructed. “A lady does not cross her legs nor does she prop her feet on the banister,” she muttered over and over until both Smitty and Ruby collapsed laughing.
“Oh, my God, he’s here! I just heard his car door slam,” Nealy said, running into the bedroom. “I am so jittery. I can’t believe this.” She held up her shaking hands for Ruby and Smitty to see. “That damn drink didn’t help at all.”
Ruby didn’t bother to try to hide her smile. “Nealy, why are you getting so upset? He’s just a man. A man! Not God. Not the president of the United States. You’re just going out to dinner. No world-altering decisions are going to be made over the table.”
Nealy plopped down on Maud’s old rocker. She wished she could just take root and stay in the chair all night long. She shrugged. “I guess I want him to like me. He didn’t.
At least Hunt said he didn’t like me. I didn’t like him either, and here I am going to dinner with him. I have a right to be nervous. I have a right to be full of anxiety. In case you’ve forgotten there have only been three men in my life, and Kendrick Bell doesn’t count. That leaves two: Dillon Roland, Emmie’s father, and Hunt. A lot of years have gone by. I am not one for small talk. I say what I have to say and that’s it. All those words, all that energy to utter them, and they mean nothing.”
Ruby crossed her arms over her chest in a no-nonsense pose. “Shut up, Nealy! Go downstairs and greet your guest. We’ll stay up here and watch from the window. Have a good time. Don’t swear if you can help it. Remember, one dessert and soft food. Order bourbon on the rocks as your before-dinner drink. Don’t drink any of those silly sweet drinks, or you’ll get sick.” Ruby paused. “You’re still sitting here, Nealy. Get going. I can see him from here. He’s on the porch. Don’t trip on the steps going down.”
Nealy stood up on quivering legs to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress before she marched out of the room, her back ramrod stiff.
Smitty plopped down on the rocker. “This is not a good thing. That drink should have kicked in. How much did you give her?”
“A triple. She downed it in two gulps. You’re right, it should be kicking in any second now. Oh, God, I hope it all works out. We might have screwed her up more. She’ll do just fine. She will, won’t she, Smitty?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I hope so,” Smitty said, pushing herself out of the chair. “I’m exhausted.”
“Me, too. We’re the ones who need a drink. As soon as they leave, let’s belt a few on the front porch.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. How’s she doing? Can you see anything?”
Nealy smiled when she opened the screen door to admit Hatch. “Well, I’m ready if you are!”
“Then let’s go.” Hatch grinned.
The bourbon kicked in somewhere between the third and last step leading down from the front porch. It increased her ability to communicate to such a degree she started to babble about wining and dining as she executed a magnificent pirouette at the same time for Hatch’s benefit.
Hatch’s eyebrows shot upward as he clapped his hands. “What do you do for an encore?” He grinned.
Nealy’s laughter rippled in the evening air. “Any number of things. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Hatch opened the door. Nealy fell forward into the seat. “Ooops,” she said, looking back at him. “Don’t close the door yet. I have to cross my ankles. Ladies are supposed to cross their ankles, not their legs. Do you know why that is, Hatch? Okay, batten down the hatches!” She started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “Didya get it? Hatches, Hatch?”
Hatch bent down to pick the end of her shawl up off the ground. “Uh-huh. I got it. Is it okay to close the door now? Did you cross your ankles?”
Nealy wiggled her rear end in the seat until she was comfortable. “Yep. I’m good to go,” she said, struggling with one long end of the shawl. “Oh, shit,” she muttered.
Hatch struggled with his laughter. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s this damn shawl. They said I needed it. I don’t need it. I wanted to wear a dress with sleeves so you wouldn’t see how muscular my arms are. Smitty said they looked like steel rods. I’m just nervous,” she said, yanking at the scarf again. “Shit, it’s half out the door. It’s probably dragging on the ground. I’m just nervous. I said that, didn’t I? People say the same thing over and over when they’re nervous.”
“I can tell.” Hatch gurgled with laughter.
Nealy struggled with her seat belt. “Oh, what gave it away? I know why. It was because I said shit. They told me not to swear. It just sort of came out if you know what I mean. I never do anything right.”
“I’ve always been good at guessing things. It’s an old Indian trait.” Hatch adjusted the seat to accommodate his long legs. “You don’t have to watch what you say around me. I have a few bad habits of my own.”
“Imagine that,” Nealy said, giving him a wide-eyed look. “We can go now, Hatch. I’m buckled up. The hell with the shawl. I’ll just throw it away. You already saw my arms, and if I freeze, I freeze. Right?”
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds right. You have nice arms.”
“Doya think so? You mean I worried for nothing?”
Hatch blinked. “I don’t understand. Why were you worried?”
“Women worry. It’s what makes us tick. It separates us from you men. Women have worried since the beginning of time. I’m not all glitzy and glamorous. I’m plain. I usually smell like horses. I’m not . . . womanly. Perfume doesn’t do it. I wanted you to like me for me. You didn’t like me, and I didn’t like you. I thought we could start over. I didn’t know I was going to get so nervous. Smitty and Ruby gave me a drink, and here I am. I might be kind of drunk. I’ve never been drunk before. Maybe I’m just feeling, you know, good, because I don’t . . . well, sometimes I do . . . this damn shawl is strangling me. Oh, shit. Excuse me, this shawl is bothering my neck. That was better, wasn’t it?”
Hatch bit down on his lower lip so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. “Are you sure you want to go to the Jockey Club for dinner? There are other places. Places where you might feel more comfortable.”
Nealy reared up in her seat. “With or without my shawl?”
“The way I see it, it’s your call. If you get cold, I could give you my jacket or I could put my arms around you.”
“Oh, yeah. No, no, no, that kind of thing leads to . . . you know. I bought one of everything in Victoria’s Secret. I had so many of those pink bags people were staring at me.”
This time Hatch did laugh. “Was it a good feeling?”
Nealy rocked back and forth laughing. “Yeah. Oh-oh, you were supposed to turn back there. We’re there. Here. At the Jockey Club. You drive like Smitty drives, on two wheels. That was exciting turning around in the middle of the road like that with the tires screeching. I would never do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I always obey the rules, that’s why. It’s no fun, though. When you do everything that is expected of you, it makes you boring. Ruby said I was really boring. It’s too soon for you to know if I’m boring. You’ll probably have a better idea after dinner. Do you want to sit on the front porch and watch the stars when we go home?”
“I’d like that, Nealy.”
“I like putting my feet up on the banister. I don’t like sitting and crossing my ankles. You should try that sometime. It sucks.”
“I bet it does. Sit still now and I’ll come around and open the door. Can you do the seat belt?”
“Just as soon as I uncross my ankles, I will do the seat belt. I wish you’d hurry and open the door. I’m choking here.”
Hatch scurried around to the passenger side of the car. Half of the luscious pink shawl was dragging on the ground and was filthy dirty. He opened the door.
“Arwk,” Nealy gasped. “Now I can breathe again. We made good time, didn’t we? It seems like we just started out.”
“That’s what happens when you’re having fun,” Hatch said with a straight face.
“Isn’t that the truth? I cannot tell you how worried I was about this date. Is this a date or just dinner? I need to know so I know what to eat.”
“Huh?”
“You know. If it’s a date, you’re nervous. You already know I’m nervous about all of this. That means I have to eat something soft so I can just swallow it. I can’t drink anything sweet or sticky or I’ll get sick. I usually order six desserts. Ruby said I can’t do that. If I do that, you won’t think I’m classy.”
Hatch threw his hands in the air. Was this the same Nealy Diamond Clay who had been married to his best friend? Right now she seemed more like a nervous teenager than the formidable Nealy Diamond Clay of legend. What the hell. When in Rome . . . “I’m going to order six desserts!”
“You are!” Nealy said, he
r eyes almost popping from her head. “I can’t. I promised I would do everything they said.”
“I’ll share mine with you then.”
“I love sweet stuff. I have a real sweet tooth. Do you have a sweet tooth, Hatch?”
“I have a whole mouth full of sweet tooths. Or is that sweet teeth?” He lifted his shoulders and looked to her for an answer.
“I don’t know. Probably teeth. That’s one thing we have in common then.”
“I think we have more than that in common, Nealy,” Hatch said, taking hold of her elbow, steadying her.
Nealy stared at the Jockey Club emblem on the door. “This club was started by men and has always been maintained by men. There are no waitresses, only waiters. My mother was a waitress,” she said, her mind taking a momentary detour. “Not here, of course, but in a small Texas town. They don’t like women here but they have to let me in because I belong to the Jockey Club. They stare at me. I beat them. All of them. Me. Whataya think of that, Hatch?” Nealy said, sashaying over to the little podium. “I would like a table by the window in the smoking section, Franklin.”
“Certainly, Miz Clay, just follow me.”
“You have to hold your head up and pretend not to see all these people. I have to keep up what they perceive to be my nasty image.”
Befuddled, Hatch nodded.
Nealy looked around. “Do you like this place, Hatch?”
“It looks kind of stuffy, or maybe I’m mistaking that with steeped in tradition. Don’t you like it?”
“You’re right on both counts. It’s very stuffy and there’s lots of tradition—tradition that doesn’t include women. I don’t like the people.” She looked up when the waiter approached. “I’ll have an Old Grandad on the rocks. A double.”
“Ice tea,” Hatch said. “I’m driving.”
Nealy smiled at him. Was he always so in control? Probably. “That’s right, you are driving.”
Kentucky Heat Page 16