The formal dining room had been emptied of everything but the sideboard, leaving the built in china cabinet which prominently displayed shiny polished silver. The dining room table which comfortably sat 18 people, was removed and replaced by four tables which each sat 6 and a head table that also seated six. Odessa doubled checked all the placards noting that on her left was Victoria Lucas and to her right was Elisabet Sterling. Victoria was related to Grandma Patsy by birth, Elisabet was related by marriage. Seated to Elisabet’s right was Susana Sterling Guffey. On the opposite side of Victoria sat Belva Blakemore and the final chair was empty.
Odessa realized that even if Ms. Patsy had decided to attend this luncheon, there would not have been a chair for her at the head table. Honestly, Odessa was uncertain if she would have been allowed in the room unless she had the paperwork to prove that she was a descendant of some Texas pioneer leader. Her father, Big Sarge was born and raised in Alabama, although her mother was a Texas native, who grew up south of San Antonio. She knew very little about her mother’s side of the family and each time she broached the subject, Dora would change the conversation. Odessa asked her again before leaving for college, “Mama, it is important for me to know who our people are so I don’t end up marrying my cousin and giving birth to big headed babies,” she tried to argue.
“The McCullouch’s are old as Texas history,” Dora told her. “If you see a McCullouch, you will know a McCullouch.” That was all her mother said on the subject. It never crossed her mind again. Today her mind was on the luncheon from Hell, packing for South America, traveling with two infants, and dealing with her parents in a foreign country.
“Mrs. Blakemore, the guests have started arriving,” Dorinda informed her. “Ralph and the staff have hors de oeuvres ready along with Peach Bellinis, Mimosas and non-alcoholic sparkling ciders.”
“Thank you Dorinda,” she said as she smoothed down the pink silk dress. It was covered in tiny yellow and white flowers with a gathered sashed waist which held the little pudge left over from bringing two small humans into the world. She rubbed her hands together, fretting before inhaling deeply, preparing herself to entertain the guests.
“Hey girl,” she heard a voice call from behind her. She turned to see Belva walking in. Her mane of black hair flowing freely around her face almost giving her an angelic appearance. Odessa had never been so happy to see anyone in her life.
“Hi,” she said meekly, trying to collect her voice. “You are attending this luncheon?”
“Of course, I would not leave you to these sharks all by your lonesome. Besides, I, as a Daughter of the Alamo, have the distinct honor of presenting new members to the organization,” she said with pride. “I am a part of the historical committee.”
“I didn’t know that,” Odessa said. She knew that Belva was a former history professor at the University of Houston and currently served as the head of philanthropy for Blakemore Oil, but she didn’t really know that much about her sister-in-law.
“Yes, I am just full of surprises,” she told her in that syrupy Texas drawl. “I am also serving in my Mama’s stead since she can’t be here.”
“Hey you two,” Connard said walking up. He wore a deep navy blue suit with a tie with little small red and blue shapes of Texas on it. “I get to stand in for Daddy today.”
Odessa did not have time to answer as Grandma Patsy arrived to stand to the right of Odessa, followed by Saxton, who arrived, dressed identical to Connard only wearing a black suit with a black and white tie with little shapes of Texas on it. Dorinda opened the door to reveal a long procession of cars coming down Blakemore Drive, entering under the porte-cochère met by valet parkers. One by one the guests arrived, entering the home.
Grandma Patsy, looking sharp in a navy blue dress, smiled as she welcomed each person individually. “Welcome to the Busy B,” she said. The guests walked down the receiving line, shaking hands, yet none seemed surprised to see Odessa standing next to Saxton. As the last guest entered the dining room, Saxton turned to his wife.
“Go get’em honey,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
Connard patted her on the back and the two walked away. Grandma Patsy winked at her and departed as well, leaving her and Belva.
“Come on girl, let’s get this over with so I can go and pack for our little weekend getaway. Where are we going again Odessa?”
“Colombia, to Puente Piedra,” she said.
“That should be fun,” Belva said to her as they took their place at the head table. Lunch arrived on time as the room filled with conversations in hushed tones from women catching up with each other since the last luncheon. The desserts arrived with a ringing of a glass bell. Victoria Lucas stood, “Good afternoon, may we please have the reading of the minutes.”
The brief report completed by a woman who looked as if she was old enough to own slaves, grinned with dentures stained by too much coffee. A big busted, boisterous babe in the back with a neck gobbler yelled out that she moved for the minutes to be approved. An equally wrinkled woman seconded the motion allowing Victoria to be seated after the approval of the minutes. Other business matters were addressed leaving only Belva at the head table to speak.
Donna arrived with Austin in her arms bringing alarm to Odessa, but Belva smiled at her calming her sister-in-law.
“I would like to present the newest Daughter of the Alamo, and our youngest member, Austin Moriah Blakemore, daughter of Saxton Blakemore and Odessa Trodat Blakemore, granddaughter to Lucille Sterling Blakemore, great-granddaughter of Patsy Lucas Sterling, and the great-great-great granddaughter of Rebecca Guffney Lucas!” Little bells rang out as Austin’s little eyes were wide, searching the room of women until her eyes landed on her mama, who looked at the little angel, wearing a pretty pink gown with a pink bow on her little bald head. As she expected, an ill-timed ignoramus spoke too loud when the bells ceased ringing to be overhead stating, “That child is white!”
Ignoring the words, Belva kissed her niece, handing her back to Donna, who departed the room with the child. Throats were cleared as the woman sitting next to the loud mouth pinched her arm, trying to quiet her down. The whole thing was almost over and Odessa was ready for the ladies to leave.
“I would also like to present another new member to the Daughters of the Alamo,” Belva addressed the group. “She is the great-great-great granddaughter of Samuel McCulloch and Mary Lorena Vess, the great-great granddaughter of Lewis Clark McCulloch and Edna Twohig, the granddaughter of Jeremiah McCulloch and Ganado Mary Owen and the daughter of Dora McCulloch Trodat and Kevin Joseph Trodat Senior. It seems this family loves naming their daughters after our great cities in Texas. Please welcome to the Daughters of the Alamo, Odessa Trodat Blakemore!” Belva said the words, the bells rang but Odessa heard none of it.
She was passed out on the table face first in her Tiramisu.
“What do you mean you don’t know! How the hell can you not know Kevin?” Big Sarge yelled at his son.
“Like I said Daddy, I don’t know. As in I am uncertain, unsure, not clear, fuzzy,” Kevin Jr. said to his father,
“Boy, I will snatch the black clear off of your fuzzy ass if you don’t sit down right now and give me some answers,” Big Sarge yelled.
The letter arrived in the mail that morning. The envelope bore the seal to the CIA. He knew the envelope. It read Human Resources. Big Sarge knew it was a job offer.
“Kevin, are you taking a job with the CIA?” Big Sarge asked his son again.
“Daddy, I just got the letter from you. I just opened it. I have not had a chance to process this without you jumping on me wanting to know what I am going to do. Daddy, I also got an offer from the FBI. I’m trying to tell you, the Open Source job with the CIA is right up my alley and the pay is really good too,” Kevin Jr. said.
“I don’t want my son shot up or coming out crazy from seeing all that evil stuff,” Big Sarge stated emphatically.
“Daddy you see worse stuff on social media and Wo
rld Star,” Kevin responded. “If I take this job, I can double up on my student loans, get the agency to pay for the rest of grad school and start out with a nice life and a career.”
“Saxton put you up to this didn’t he?”
“Actually Daddy, both he and Roget said I should never be anywhere near a covert operation and that I was a hazard to myself,” he said with a chuckle. “However, my test scores, knowledge of Central America and being the brother-in-law to the head of the Zeta Cartel also helped.”
“Son, you see how Saxton is all broke up. Roget can’t see out of one eye, your Mama can’t be anywhere near two towels, and Odessa...,” he stopped himself.
“Odessa is the proud mother of two beautiful babies and a wife to man who adores her,” Kevin Jr. said solemnly. Not long ago he didn’t trust Saxton. Especially after returning home from college and seeing his sister behave so differently in such a short period of time. However, his brother-in-law had put his life on the line twice to rescue him from a bad end. The man also loved his sister. “Daddy, I am 25 and ready to start some sort of life. I need for you to trust that I have been raised right by you and Mom and that you have taught me what I need to know to go forth in this world.”
“You are my only son,” he told him. “You are my namesake and the carrier of my line. I am counting on you to keep the Trodat name alive.”
“And I am going to make you some little grand baby Trodats once I get this job, buy me a little place and settle down with a nice girl,” he said.
“As long as it’s not that bug girl!”
“Daddy, you are the one who taught me never to judge a person based on their appearance,” Kevin Jr. started to say.
“True, I did. But if they are walking around with supersized bugs and insects clipped in their hair and sporting little dangling coordinating bug earrings, I am going to judge them like a mutherfu....”
“Daddy!”
“Don’t Daddy me when you, in a moment of weakness gave into that bug clad weirdo!”
Kevin Jr. took a seat next to his father. He placed a warm hand over his father’s weathered ones. A gentle squeeze was given.
“I haven’t really talked about what happened to me either time I was taken, since people like to kidnap me for fun it seems,” Kevin Jr. said with a measured sigh. “Daddy, the first time changed my life. It changed me. As tough as I believed myself to be, dangling from the rafters with my blood dripping down on the head of a very hungry green anaconda who was in a frenzy to eat the hanging live meal overhead scared the shit out of me. I had already pissed on myself when we walked into that dark room full of snakes the day before and to be taken and hung up like that as food for a giant serpent– it was a lot,” he told him. “Who I believed myself to be as man was tested and Daddy, I failed. Not only did I fail, I felt I had failed you. You are strong, fearless, and are walking around with shrapnel in your side. I saw a bunch of caged snakes, peed on myself then cried when Mateo nicked me on the butt with a sharp knife. I was at my lowest point as an adult man. I was hating myself for being so weak and a burden. Mary Jean offered me comfort. I took it.”
Big Sarge watched his son wrestle with a new truth as he spoke the words aloud.
“I don’t regret being with her on the ship when we went cruising with the Blakemores. Obviously I liked it since I keep going back for more. Bugs, aside, she is a great, loving girl,” he told his father.
“If you tell me you are planning to propose to her, I am going to get my gun and shoot you in the dick so you can’t make little bug larvae and pupae,” Big Sarge said.
“Jesus Daddy!”
“I’m serious son,” Big Sarge said.
“Calm down. I’m not ready to marry anyone yet. I have a few things I need clarification on before I continue and go any further,” he said.
“Yeah, you need to clarify a lot of shit,” Big Sarge said.
“After this trip, I will know exactly what I am going to do and how I will accomplish my goals,” he said. His thoughts were on Julianna, the mechanic for Eduardo’s plane. He needed to obtain some clarity on how he felt about the woman.
When Eduardo and Ryanne returned to the Busy B for the twins christening, she could not leave his plane unsecured even though it was on Blakemore land. Unable to join the bar-b-que and fun, Kevin armed with a packed picnic basket, carted out to the landing strip with lunch. The two dined on a patch of grass under a shade tree. He remained a total gentleman as they spoke of her job with the Czar, her twin sister, and her life in Colombia.
“I promise to come for a visit and see your world. Will you come for a visit and see mine?” he asked.
“When I come to you Kevin, I will change the world as you see it,” Julianna said softly. Her dark eyes staring into his sending sparks all the way to his toes. He stayed long after the picnic as she performed basic maintenance on Eduardo’s plane, preparing it for the return trip home. A spot of grease sat on her cute nose. “Hold on, you got a little smudge there,” he said as he used a napkin to wipe it away. Standing so close yet being unable to kiss her, haunted him.
“I should have kissed her,” he said to himself as he stood up from the couch.
“Should have kissed who?” Big Sarge asked.
“Clarification,” Kevin Jr. said, walking away.
Chapter Nine – Preparing...planning...praying.
Tuesday – Las Tierras
Eduardo sat in his office, watching the young woman with a baby strapped to her chest, pace back and forth in front of the stairs. He knew the young woman but was uncertain of what she wanted. Few of the villagers ever came to the main house unless something was wrong. He had not received any news in the morning report that anything unusual had occurred in the evening, nor during the wee hours of the morning. He would give her a few more minutes to gather her courage or he would send her on her way.
Upstairs, Ryanne was pacing like a teenager awaiting the results of a pregnancy tests two weeks after prom night. Overwhelmed was an understatement as she prepared for the arrival of Saxton’s parents tomorrow. Secretly, she wished that her parents had arrived first and her mother would serve as company for Lucille. She had nothing in common with Lucille Blakemore. What are we going to do for a whole day? Panic started to fill her entire body with the concern of what she was going to do the entire weekend with so many people. I have no plan.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Fuckballs.
I need an assistant.
Focus Ry, Focus. Okay, Wednesday. A nice dinner with the Blakemores. Some good conversation about their trip down, the museum exhibit. Okay. Okay. You can do this Ry.
An idea started taking shape. Very seldom did her parents have more than six to eight people in their home at one time. Lots of people made her father jumpy and her mother grip tightly to dish towels if they became too loud. As far as she knew, Odessa had not entertained so many people either. She paced again across the bedroom floor, noticing Eduardo’s acoustic guitar in the corner on the guitar stand.
“Okay, I think I have this,” she said aloud, looking for some paper. She found some in the night stand drawer and began to lay out the schedule.
Thursday- Arrival of all the family. Informal meals, with buffet set up to allow people to graze as they see fit. A chill day.
Friday – Tours of the lands, horseback riding. A formal dinner with live music a la the Delgados.
Saturday – a tea party for the ladies. The men prepare a pig or a goat for roasting for an afternoon cookout.
Sunday – Church, the christening – a nice brunch.
Monday- take their asses home.
Feeling vindicated and half-way in control, she grabbed her list heading downstairs to first go over it with Eduardo to ensure there were enough horses and transportation for the tours and to get over to the church. Secondly, she needed to meet with Tonda’s mother, a woman she still had no clue what her name was and to make sure the Blakemore’s room was ready for t
heir arrival tomorrow.
Details. China. Tea sets.
I need an assistant. She admonished herself for wanting more responsibility and more to do as she thought how hectic the next few days were going to be, plus the kids would be home. The first thing she was going to discuss with Eduardo was Gestina. She could use her help with Isabella over the next few days.
Ryanne arrived at Eduardo’s office at the same instance courage arrived for the young woman at the base of the front stairs to the main house. Her back straight, she marched up the stairs with determination. Her feet dusty in the sandals from walking so far. Sweat soaked through her clothing from the exuberance of the ten mile walk to the Señor’s home, but she would plead her case.
Eduardo sat quietly waiting for her to knock on the main door. Her courage gathered, she tapped lightly on the large wooden door. Marianna greeted the young woman that she too recognized.
“Por favor,” she began in a meek voice. “I would like to have an audience with the el Señor y la Señora.”
“Why?” Marianna spoke firmly, attempting to intimidate the young woman.
“It is a private matter Señorita,” she said. “Please, por favor, will he see me?”
Eduardo watched his wife descend the stairs as he rose slowly, walking to the front door, standing behind Marianna, waiting for Ryanne to join him. He knew what the young woman wanted, but he needed to hear the young mother make her case. Curious, above all else, he wanted to know what she planned to offer in her bargain.
She spotted Eduardo. “Señor, por favor, may I have a word with you and the Señora?”
The baby squirmed in the dusty cloth it was covered in nestled close to her bosom.
“Estoy eschuchando,” Eduardo told her.
A Weekend with the Blakemores (The Blakemore Files Book 8) Page 7