But no one had ever convinced her that she wasn’t good with her children. She was patient, concerned, strict when she had to be, but always loving. Despite the personal cost, she had protected Kitten and Chris from the influences surrounding them, carefully steering a path through the worst of her husband’s problems so that the children wouldn’t be touched by them.
Now she lay on Billy’s living room sofa and watched as they sat entranced in front of a Disney video that Hattie had rented for them that afternoon. They were tired and uncharacteristically quiet. Even Chris, who wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on, sensed the tension in the air, and he had worn himself out whining for most of the afternoon.
“You doing okay, Carolina?”
She smiled up at Hattie, who had just come in from making dinner in the kitchen. “You’ve been so good to me. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Nobody’s been good to you in a long, long time.”
Carolina didn’t know what to say, but Hattie didn’t give her a chance to speak, anyway. “Billy Ray called. He’s on his way home. I ought to take off now and do some errands. You’ll be all right until he gets here?”
“I’ll be just fine.”
Hattie rested her hand against Carolina’s forehead; then she nodded, satisfied. “Fever’s gone. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll bring some toys for Chris.”
“Thanks, Hattie. For everything.”
Hattie said goodbye to the children, who were so engrossed in their show that they hugged her without taking their eyes off the screen. Carolina felt her own eyes growing heavy. She had napped in the early afternoon, but she was still sleepy. She let her eyelids drift shut for a moment.
When she opened them, Billy Ray was standing in front of her. She drew a sharp breath and began to cough. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
She sat up, and he sat down beside her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You were sleeping.”
“I guess I was, but I’m always at least half awake, listening for the children.”
“Next time I’ll make children noises when I come home.”
She saw with relief that Kitten and Chris were still watching their video. “I don’t seem to do much of anything right, do I? What if Chris had gotten into something?”
“Carolina, Hattie told you I was on my way home, didn’t she? So you knew I’d be only a few minutes. And Kitten’s sitting right there. If you didn’t hear Chris, I’m sure she would have gotten you up. Go easy on yourself. You’re sick. You’re supposed to rest.”
She thought about how different his reaction was from the reaction Champ would have had, or the judge. Both of them would have used this as an excuse to point out her failings.
She wondered if Billy even knew he was being kind. She doubted it. To him, his words were simply reasonable. To her, they were like a fresh breeze making headway on a decade of emotional cobwebs.
He rose. “Hattie said she made supper. I’ll go see what I have to do to get it on the table.”
She rose, too. “Kitten, can you keep an eye on Chris? Give a yell if you need me.”
Kitten nodded without turning.
“Where are you going?” Billy Ray frowned.
“To help you.”
“Don’t be silly. I—”
“I’d like to talk to you. I’ll just sit and watch, if that makes you happier.”
“It will.”
She followed him into the kitchen. She could hear the television and probably any signs of life from the living room. She took a seat at the end of the table, which Hattie had already set for their meal.
“The kids been okay today? I’m sorry they had to stay cooped up.”
“So were they. Hattie did take them out to the barn for a while. We watched to be sure there weren’t any cars on the road first. They played with your cat.”
“He’s not my cat. He just lives there.”
“He is going to have kittens.”
“Damn.” Billy Ray shook his head. “He—she showed up one day a couple of weeks ago and stayed. I guess she lives on mice and rats. She’s so big and ugly, I thought she was a torn.”
Carolina laughed, and it felt surprisingly different and good. “You’re sure it’s not just that you don’t know how to tell?”
He looked up from his search through the refrigerator and smiled. Her laughter caught in her throat, and something she hadn’t felt for a long time thrummed inside her. Despite her illness. Despite the crisis in her life. Despite a million fears for the future.
“I can tell the difference,” he said. “At least in humans.”
A few seconds passed before she was able to pull herself together and move on. “The cat doesn’t just live on mice and rats. Hattie says she leaves food for her when she comes to clean your house.”
“Did Hattie name her, too?”
“Kitten named her.”
“Let’s see, a little girl named Kitten named my cat. What did she call her? Mary Sue Watkins?”
“Three Legs.”
“Well, it’s descriptive.”
“Kitten’s good at cutting to the chase.”
“What about her mother? Is she good at it, too?”
“Not nearly good enough. But I’m about to try.”
“I’m listening.”
Carolina took a deep breath. “Billy, I want you to know some things. I don’t know why exactly. But I do.”
He looked as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know them, but he didn’t stop her. He pulled a salad out of the refrigerator and set it on the counter; then he began to fill glasses with ice.
“I…I know what you went through with your father. I’ve been through it, too.”
He stopped what he was doing and cocked his head. “What are you saying, exactly?”
“Champ was an alcoholic.” She shook her head. Even now, she was downplaying it. “No, it was worse than that. He abused drugs, too. He abused anything he could get his hands on.” She looked up at him and said the words it had been so hard to admit even to herself. “He abused me.”
He was silent, but a muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. “For how long, Carolina?”
“I can’t even tell you when it started.” She shook her head. “It was so subtle at first. I bet you can’t understand that. I can’t even understand it, though I’ve been getting some help from a counselor recently. At first…I thought it was just because he loved me and wanted me to reach my potential. He would criticize little things. I’d try to do better. He’d be pleased. Then he’d find something else.”
“Did it get…?” He set down the glass he’d been filling, as if he was afraid to hold something so fragile in his hands. “Did it get worse than criticism?”
She looked away. “Yes.” The word was barely audible. “It got worse.”
His tone was sharp. “Why did you stay with him, then? You had other places to go, didn’t you? You had money to get away.”
“This is so hard to explain. I’m only beginning to understand it myself. I…” She looked down at the table, at the wood surface that had seen a thousand family dinners, a hundred spilled glasses of milk. “I was raised to please. My father was nearly sixty when I was born. He didn’t like noise, and he didn’t like trouble. So I had to be quiet, and I had to be good. My mother was always busy with other things, and the only time I got to spend with her was when I was doing exactly what she told me to.”
“Okay. But I knew you then, remember? Despite all that you had ideas. You had strong opinions. You were the girl who was going to do things and be somebody.”
“And I was the girl who gave up that dream to do exactly what everyone expected.” She was humiliated that her voice caught on the last word. “Champ was the prize catch in River County. I didn’t even know I wanted him, but once he let me know I could be Mrs. Champion Grayson if I set my mind to it, I couldn’t resist the temptation.”
She turned up her hands in defeat. “I was so
young. So silly. Everyone envied me. He was handsome, rich. And he treated me like a princess. Once I said yes, I made him my life. And I didn’t want to fail. So every time he told me I was failing, I just tried harder. And I believed…I believed he was right.”
“I’m a general practice attorney. I handle divorces. I know the psychology of this. But you let him…” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t say the words.
“He slapped me more than a few times, but he only beat me twice.” She swallowed. “I left him after the first time, but he came after me, promising to reform. Now that my father’s dead, my mother lives in Palm Beach. She’s hoping to find another rich husband. I went to stay with her, but she sided with Champ. I told you, she only wanted to be with me if I was doing what she told me to.” She managed a wan smile. “She hasn’t changed.”
“Did you need her permission to change your life?”
It was a hard question, but a fair one. “No. I went back to Champ because I believed he would change. I also believed if I didn’t go back to him, his addictions would get worse, not better.”
“So you thought you could save him?”
“Yes. And instead I killed him.”
He didn’t even blink. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know what I’ve been told.”
“You said Champ beat you twice.”
“I bet you’re good in the courtroom, Billy.”
His eyes were serious, and he didn’t smile.
She finished her story. “After I went back to him, things got better for a while. Then I got pregnant again. It wasn’t planned. I wasn’t secure enough to bring another child into our marriage. I was using birth control religiously, but I ran out of luck. When I told Champ, his drinking got heavier, and I found he was making regular trips out of town to buy drugs.
“I confronted him one night, just after Chris was born, when I couldn’t stand any more. I told him I was going to take both children and leave him. He came after me. He shoved me against a wall, and I lost consciousness. Kitten wasn’t quite three. When I woke up, he and Kitten were gone, and they stayed gone for three days. The Graysons knew where Champ had taken her, but they refused to tell me. I was frantic. Finally he brought her back, and, of course, he promised to reform again. But at the same time, he warned me that if I left him, he’d find me and disappear with Kitten and the baby next time, and I’d never see either of them again.”
“And that’s why you stayed with him?”
“It was a mixture of things. Fear. Self-disgust. Some flicker of hope that he would really change. Mostly it was inertia. I didn’t know what to do or where to go to protect the children. There was nobody to turn to.”
“He drained you dry, one drop at a time. The bastard!”
She looked up. She had been staring at her hands, hands that hadn’t been able to set her life in order. “I let him.”
Billy Ray came to the table and squatted in front of her so they were face-to-face. “You were young and insecure. And from what you’ve told me, he had no scruples about destroying you. Don’t blame yourself. Look at what happened and learn from it, but don’t waste your time wishing you’d acted differently.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I drank too much that night on purpose, Billy. Maybe I planned to run off the road and kill Champ, or kill myself. Because I hated him. By the end of our marriage, I hated him!”
“You had reason to hate him.”
“But did I have reason enough to kill him? To get behind that wheel and run the car into a tree? I’m telling you this because you’re going to have to ask yourself that question. By sheltering me here, you may be protecting a murderer, Billy. It’s entirely possible I set out that night in December to kill my own husband.”
4
Your lungs sound clear, but pneumonia’s nothing to fool with. You still need to take it easy for a while. Don’t overdo. Otherwise, as far as I can tell, you’re on the road to recovery.” Garth Brodie, a young physician who was paying off substantial medical school debts by practicing in a public health clinic in lower River County, removed his stethoscope and got to his feet.
Carolina adjusted her blouse. “I told Billy I was practically well. But he insisted. I’m sorry he dragged you here. When you took this job, I bet you never expected to make house calls.”
“Billy Ray’s helped a couple of my patients get disability benefits when nobody else would take their cases. I figure I owe him more than a house call.”
Garth, dark-haired and baby-faced, was regarding her with veiled curiosity. Carolina knew that Billy Ray must have told him something about her situation to get him to come. His arrival, on this the fourth day of her stay at the old farmhouse, had been a surprise to her.
“I hope Billy told you that nobody’s supposed to know you saw me today,” she said.
“He did.” He hesitated. “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”
“Thanks. But no.”
“Well, if you need anything else, just let me know.” He finished packing up his bag.
“Garth, there is…one thing.”
He nodded, like an old country doctor with all the time in the world.
“I was in an accident in December. I suffered a pretty serious concussion as a result. I…I can’t remember anything that happened in the hours before it. Do you think I ever will?”
She listened as he listed the expected disclaimers. He hadn’t seen her records. All cases differed in outcome. But at her disappointed expression he added, “Do you have glimmers? Little slivers of memory that come and go?”
“Sometimes I think I do. Then, before I can grab and examine them…they disappear.”
“That’s probably a good sign. You may not be ready to remember yet. Sometimes we block out traumatic events until we’re ready to accept the memories. But sometimes it’s purely physical. There just aren’t any guarantees.”
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Come in. We’re finished here,” Garth called.
Billy Ray entered with Chris in his arms, “Special delivery,” he said, setting Chris on the bed beside his mother. “How’s she doing, Garth?”
“Fine. The antibiotics did their job. And she’s young and healthy enough to fight off a recurrence if she just takes care of herself.” He turned to Carolina. “Hear that?”
“Vitamins, sunshine, bed rest and a healthy diet,” she recited.
“I wish all my patients had the drill down.” He smiled, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the accident you mentioned lowered your resistance, and that’s why you fell prey to pneumonia. Stress plays a big part in how well we fight off disease.”
“I’m working on that, too.” She smiled, and his face changed subtly, as if for the first time he was seeing her as a woman.
He turned away. “Billy?” He nodded to Billy Ray. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll show you out.”
The two men disappeared. Chris climbed into Carolina’s lap, and she fell back on the mattress, taking him with her. He giggled and she turned him to his back, tickling him while he giggled, louder.
“Mommy?”
Carolina looked up to see Kitten standing in the doorway. “Come here, sweetie. Help me wrestle your brother.”
The three of them were giggling and roughhousing when Billy Ray returned. She didn’t even know he was watching until Kitten spotted him. “Stop!” She grabbed her mother’s arm. “Stop!”
Carolina realized that Billy Ray was smiling at them, and she grinned in response as she straightened her clothes. “Whoops. I’m afraid you caught us laughing.”
“I’m appalled.”
Kitten jumped off the bed and ran past him out into the hallway. Chris wrapped his arms around her neck and held on for dear life. Carolina’s smile died, and she shook her head.
“What’s going on?” he asked. His smile died, too.
“You caught us in behavior unbecoming to a Grayson.”
<
br /> A look of utter disbelief settled on his features.
“I know. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“Children aren’t supposed to laugh?”
“The Grayson household is very dignified, very quiet. The children were expected to be the same way.” She knew she sounded bitter, but she couldn’t help herself. “Of course they could laugh, but only when it was appropriate and subdued. If I made them laugh too loud or too long, I was accused of provoking hysteria and upsetting them. If they didn’t sleep well that night or eat everything on their plates, it was my fault.”
“You make the Gray sons sound like monsters.”
She shook her head. “I don’t mean to. They aren’t.” A small smile escaped. “Not precisely.”
His expression softened. “I’ll talk to Kitten. I’ll tell her laughter’s encouraged here.”
“Don’t, Billy. Let her discover that for herself. It will make more of an impression.” She changed the subject. “Listen, why did you bring Garth home with you? I told you I was almost well. Didn’t you trust me?”
“Not where your health is concerned. You’re so desperate to feel better, I was afraid you were exaggerating.”
“Actually, I’m relieved to have my own diagnosis confirmed.” She rose, carrying the clinging Chris with her. “And now I have the final proof.”
He looked wary. “You’re still weak in the knees. You’re not well enough to move out. I hope that’s not what this is about.”
“Not yet. No. But I am well enough to pull some weight around here. I made dinner today while you were at the office. I can finish it now, then we can eat.”
“You were supposed to rest. This was your first day without Hattie to take care of the kids.”
“I love to cook. It was relaxing. And the only thing you’re supposed to say is thank you.”
He hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry. Maybe I like taking care of you.”
For a moment she couldn’t move. He was close enough to touch. He had changed from his suit into a soft green polo shirt and jeans. His hair was freshly combed. He had beautiful hair, thick, shiny and bone-straight. No matter what he did to it, it always fell down over his forehead. She liked the effect, because it softened his serious demeanor and made him more touchable.
Southern Gentlemen: John Rip PetersonBilly Ray Wainwright Page 18