“You don’t have to take that tone,” Cathy said.
Jimmy shot her a go-to-hell look. “Thank you, Mr. Wentz, for making me aware of all this. Good day, Mother, Grandmother, and Cathy.”
Amelia shot up in a blast from her chair. “Where do you think you are going?”
“I’m twenty-six. I don’t think I have to answer to anyone of you anymore,” he said.
Lorraine stood up so fast she knocked her chair over. It fell with very little noise on the thick carpet. She shoved her face toward Jimmy until their noses were barely two inches apart. “You are acting like your worthless father. What do you think you’ll do? Go there and ranch? Great God. I can just see it. You out there pulling up stumps and plowing in custom-tailored suits and seven hundred dollar shoes. Wake up, James! You have not been groomed to be a dirt farmer.”
“Did I have a choice in that?” he asked.
She slapped the table in a rare show of emotion. “At five years old, no! You did not have a choice. I did what was best for you.”
He picked up the papers and started toward the elevator doors. “Thank you. I’m not five years old anymore so now I’ll do what’s best for me.”
“If you walk out of here with that attitude, you can stay gone,” Amelia said with icy composure. “We are a family and we’ll discuss the best way to handle this situation for all concerned. You don’t need to be strapped down with some worthless Oklahoma land. God Almighty, you aren’t thinking like a Fleming. You’re acting like that hotheaded father of yours.”
Jimmy didn’t even look back when he stepped inside the elevator.
Jodie was too excited to sleep that morning. She helped her father with the outside chores, spent an hour at the lodge with her sister and brother-in-law, and helped out by making a peach cobbler for the guests’ supper that evening. By the time she got back to the house Joanna was putting on her coat to go grocery shopping, so she went along. They met and talked with several acquaintances in the store, catching up on local gossip. On the way back to the ranch, Jodie leaned back and sighed. This was exactly what she needed: some time away from Jimmy to get her bearings. She had them now. She was Jodie Cahill, back at home in Murray County. Nothing in the next six weeks could shake that again.
They’d unloaded all the food and were busy putting it away when Granny Etta and her friend Roxie dropped by to see Jodie. Etta wore a red sweatshirt with a heart embroidered on the front with her blue jeans. Roxie was decked out in a cherry-red velour sweatsuit and high heeled red demi-boots. Her bright red hair was ratted up in one of her signature hairstyles.
Etta put on a pot of coffee. “You hear about Ratch Crowe dyin’ while you were gone?” she asked Jodie.
“Who is Ratch Crowe?”
“Oh, you probably wouldn’t remember him. He’s been in the nursing home since you were in kindergarten. Wasn’t it about that long, Roxie?”
“Yep, he came sniffing around my boarding house right before that. His wife died a year or so before. I got to say, he did wait the right amount of mourning time before he tried to court me. But Lord have mercy, I just plain wasn’t interested,” Roxie said.
Jodie smiled as she set out a platter of her mother’s oatmeal cookies. “So you two have had to fight off the gentlemen callers a time or two in your day?”
“Every eligible woman in Murray County had to tell Ratch to go home once the proper year was over,” Etta said.
“What was wrong with him?” Jodie asked.
“He was just lookin’ for a woman to take care of him like Novaline did,” Joanna said. “I remember when his son left these parts. Right out of high school. Sick of the farm. Went out to West Texas to work. Anyway, Ratch was a hard man. Told that boy if he didn’t stay on the farm he wasn’t to come back. He didn’t even let him know when his mother died. It wasn’t until Ratch fell and broke his hip that he called his son home and that’s when he found out his mother was dead.”
Jodie poured coffee for four and sat down to listen to the story. “Some family. What happened?”
“Well, the son brought his family and came home to help out. They’d put Ratch in the nursing home for some rehabilitation, but then he had a stroke and it looked like he was going to be there a long time. The son, what was his name?” Etta put a finger to her cheek trying to remember.
“Wilbur? William?” Roxie asked.
“They called him Bud,” Joanna remembered. “The newspaper said he’d been preceded in death by his son, William. And then it had Bud in parentheses. So I guess everyone who might remember him would remember the nickname.”
“That’s right,” Etta said. “Ratch had the stroke. Bud had only been here a few weeks and he had an accident and died. His family went on back to Texas where they come from and no one ever heard from them again.”
Jodie brushed cookie crumbs from her green plaid flannel shirt.
“And Emma Ponders died. You remember her, Jodie?”
“Miss Emma, who lived up behind the school?”
“That’s her. She and Ratch both died the same day. Nursing home lost two of their oldest patients in less than twenty-four hours. Etta, how old would Ratch’s son be now if he was still alive?” Roxie asked.
“Well, Ratch and Novaline were both past forty when they had that boy. Didn’t think they were ever going to have children. Let’s see, Ratch was ninety so Bud would be in his late forties if he was alive,” Etta said.
“Whatever happened to the family he left behind?” Joanna asked.
“The wife and kid or was it kids, I can’t remember right now. Anyway, they went home to her people. Never heard anything about them again.”
Suddenly Jodie’s brain began to connect the dots. “Crowe? Did you say this old man’s name was Crowe and he lived around here?”
“That’s what we’ve been telling you, child. He was Kay Parson’s uncle. Kyle’s great uncle. She visited him in the nursing home every week. Ratch’s body was all messed up with the broke hip and the stroke, which got the other side, but they said his mind was still sharp. Kay and Billy leased the ranch from him for a few dollars a year and she kept an eye on things. Wonder what they’ll do with that ranch? Ratch might have left it to Kay and that would be the smart thing. I’m sure those people in Texas wouldn’t want it. They never came back here the whole time to see about the old man. It might go on the market. You got enough in your bank account for a down payment, Jodie?” Etta asked.
“What was this Bud’s wife’s name?” she asked.
“Here I am telling you all about a ranch that’s coming up for sale, and you’ve been chomping at the bit for more’n a year about having your own place and you’re interested in Ratch’s daughter-in-law? What is the matter with you? You got too much rodeo dust in your brain?” Etta asked.
“Crowe? Is that C-R-O-W-E?”
“That’s right,” Roxie said.
Jodie hopped up to answer the doorbell when it rang and swung the door open to find Jimmy standing on the other side. The bewildered look in his dark green eyes caused her to step back and motion him inside.
“I’d like it better if you came out and took a ride with me,” he said.
She reached for her coat.
“Momma, I’ll be back in a little while!” she called out toward the kitchen.
“What has happened? You look like you lost your best friend or saw a ghost.” she asked when they were inside the rental car he’d picked up at the Dallas airport.
“It’s a long story,” he said.
“I’ve got all the time in the world. One question. Was Ratch Crowe your grandfather?”
He nodded.
Chapter Twelve
Jimmy started the engine and drove to the end of the lane, then stopped. He had no idea which way to go. He assumed north because the attorney had mentioned the ranch being north of Sulphur. “Do you know Kay Parsons?” he asked.
“Of course. That’s Kyle’s mother,” Jodie said. She’d kept her silence after asking him if Ratc
h was his grandfather, giving him time to talk, but it hadn’t been easy.
“Do you know where they live?”
“Turn north,” she pointed.
She gave directions and he followed them right up to a long, low brick house with a porch wrapped around three sides. A split log fence circled the house and cows stuck their heads through the rails to nibble at the grass in the yard.
He stopped the car and stared ahead as if in a stupor.
“Want to tell me why we’re here?” she asked.
“These people are my relatives and I don’t know them. I never knew my grandfather, Ratch Crowe. That’s a strange name, isn’t it? I just found out this morning. They kept it from me for my own good, they said.”
His sentences were delivered in monotone.
“Why did they tell you now?”
“Because I was coming here to stay at the lodge or your house and they thought I might hear his name in conversation. Will you go with me to talk to Kay?”
“Of course. I’ve known the family my whole life. Kyle and my sister Roseanna dated a while back before she married Trey the first time,” Jodie said.
He opened the door slowly as if dreading the meeting.
Jodie slung the gate to one side then closed it after they were inside the yard. She was the one who knocked heavily on the door frame. She was tempted to take Jimmy’s hand in hers for support but was afraid of the emotions the touch would create.
“Yes?” Kay answered the door. She wore jeans and an orange sweatshirt. Her salt and pepper-colored hair was held away from her face with a wide headband. Flour dotted her forehead but her fingernails were freshly polished in bright red. “Don’t just stand out there in the cold, Jodie. Come on in here. I’m making blackberry cobbler for supper. Kyle and Greta are coming over, and she’s partial to cobbler with ice cream. Who’s this with you?”
When they stepped inside the house, Kay’s hand went to her mouth. “Good Lord, it can’t be. You have to be Jimmy. You are the spitting image of my cousin, Bud.”
Jimmy nodded unable to say a word.
Kay wrapped him into a hug that almost took his breath away. “I told them all you’d find your way home someday and here you are. Did you know that Uncle Ratch died and left you the ranch?”
“I just found out this morning. I had no idea I had family,” he said.
“I figured as much. You’ll have to meet us all. Can you come for supper tonight? My daughters won’t be here but Kyle will and you can meet him. He’s your second cousin and married to Greta. We’ll have to plan a family reunion so you can get to know the rest of your family. Come sit in the kitchen and have a cup of coffee while I finish making the cobbler.”
“I think Jimmy would like to go over to the ranch if ya’ll don’t mind,” Jodie said.
“Mind? Lord, no, I don’t mind. Let me get you the key. The place will be dusty. I only go over there twice a year to do any cleaning. Ratch said in the beginning I wasn’t to move a single thing. He said someday it would be important that it be the same as the day Jimmy left it. Guess he had his reasons. Anyway, here’s the key. If you decide to sell it don’t be listing it with a realtor, Jimmy. There’s lots of family who’d buy the place and give you a fair price.”
“Yes ma’am, and thank you. Were you serious about supper?” Jimmy asked.
“I sure was and bring Jodie with you. I’ll keep her and Greta apart at the table so you and Kyle don’t have to referee,” Kay teased.
He raised an eyebrow toward Jodie.
“I’ll explain later. What time?” she asked.
“We don’t stand on formality, Jodie. Supper will be on the table at six. Come on around anytime before that and visit with us,” Kay said.
Jimmy was still in a daze when he followed Jodie back to the dirt road and drove back to the south. A mile down the road she told him to turn left and hopped out of the car to unlock a padlock on the gate. She swung it wide so he could drive through and then closed it. A quarter of a mile up the rutted lane he found the house and memories surrounded him like a warm blanket.
“We drove up here in a pickup truck,” he said. “Mother said it had better be for only a few weeks because she wasn’t living like this. I couldn’t understand why. There were kittens on the porch and puppies under it. A man was sitting in an old chair right there,” he pointed. “He rode the other horse that was out there in the barn. I wanted to ride it but Mother said I wasn’t old enough.”
“You didn’t remember any of this before now?” Jodie asked.
“No, I only had one memory of living here. Will you go inside with me?” he asked.
“You might want to do it alone,” she suggested.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
She followed him to the porch where he looked at the straight-back chair, once painted white and now chipped and flaking. She suspected that he was envisioning the man who sat in the chair and helped with the farm chores. She’d have to ask Kay later who it was—someone still around or a drifter.
He opened the screen door and unlocked the wooden one. The house was cold and smelled musty but that was no surprise. It hadn’t been lived in for more than twenty years. Crocheted doilies were pinned to the arms and back of a gold floral sofa on the right. Once white, they were yellowed with age. To the left was a large fireplace with wood stacked beside it. A granddaddy long-legged spider crawled lazily over the top of the logs. Two recliners faced an old floor model television set. Knick-knacks dated the room even more than the furniture. Little ducks everywhere. Yellow ones. White ones. Babies. Grown ones with wings flapping. Made of wood, of porcelain, ceramic, and one of clear glass. All covered with a thin layer of dust.
Jimmy touched one and then the other. “Daddy said I could look at them but not to touch. When Grandpa came home he’d be really mad if I broke one because they’d been Grandma’s collection. Strange that I would remember that now and never before.”
The one memory I kept of Jodie is the one that tied me to this place, the only one that brought me back here. But why did I repress all the others?
He roamed on straight ahead through an archway into the kitchen. A wood table with four chairs surrounding it took center stage. Cabinets made a U shape around three walls. A window above the sink still had the same curtains hanging—white with a border of waddling ducks.
“There was an ivy plant in the window. Mother watered it every day. Once she told me it would die when we left. I asked her where we were going, and she said back to Texas one way or the other, that she wasn’t living in this kind of place much longer.”
Jodie followed him back into the living room and down the hallway. An open door to the right led into a big country bathroom. A claw-footed tub on the far end, a wall-hung sink to the left and the toilet around a partition to the right. Two wicker hampers and a chair that matched the one on the porch were scattered along the available wall space. Towels had been converted into curtains over the window above the tub. They’d been bright yellow at one time. Now where the folds had been exposed to the sun they were almost colorless.
“I loved taking a bath in the tub. I had a boat and some army men and they were constantly waging battles in there,” he whispered.
Lord, what would it be like to have your past repressed and suddenly flood back with such power? She couldn’t begin to imagine the feelings unfolding around him right now.
He opened a door to his left and peeped inside. “This was Grandpa’s room and Daddy said I wasn’t ever to go in there. Someday he’d come home and he wouldn’t like it if his things were messed with. It was like Daddy didn’t really like Grandpa. I wanted to touch that big old belt thing right there.” He pointed to a leather strop hanging behind the door on a rusty nail.
“Did you?” Jodie asked.
“No, Daddy shut the door. His face looked sad. I remember that now. He said no child of his would ever touch that thing.”
He opened another door. “Mother and Daddy’s room,” he
said.
He gasped and sunk to the floor beside the bed.
Jodie sat beside him. “Are you all right? Is this enough for one day? Let’s go, Jimmy. You are so pale, it’s scaring me.”
“Daddy was on this bed. They came and got me and brought me in here. He was stretched out on this bed and his breath was all raspy. He held my hand and told me to be good and then blood bubbles came out of his mouth and that man, the one who rode the other horse, took me out of the room. I was crying and the man held me in his arms until Mother came and took me in my own room,” he whispered hoarsely.
Jodie noticed dark stains on the pillowcase. Evidently Kay had abided by Ratch’s wishes. Nothing had been changed.
Jimmy stood up and went across the hall to the last bedroom. He pushed open the door. On the dresser lay the new pair of jeans and the Western shirt with pearl snaps. He didn’t need repressed memory to know what the dark stains were on the shirt. What did come back was the memory of his mother when she removed the jeans and shirt.
“We are going home, James. I want you to forget this place. Don’t ever think of it again. Your father is dead, and I want you to forget all about him. Promise me, James,” she had said.
Jimmy was suddenly five years old again. He looked in the mirror at the little boy who’d just started kindergarten in Sulphur, Oklahoma. He wore nothing but his underwear, black framed glasses with thick lenses, and a raw place on his nose where that big kid had hit him at the rodeo day. When he was five, it was easy to forget the whole day as well as the whole six weeks they’d been in Oklahoma.
He blinked and Jimmy, the grown man, looked back at him with haunted eyes. “That afternoon two big black cars came up in the yard. The funeral director took Daddy away. Mother and I got into the other one, a limo Grandmother sent for us, and we went to San Antonio.”
“Didn’t you come back for the funeral?”
“No, there was no funeral. I do remember that. I was so young I didn’t know to ask questions. We went from moving every few months to a big house and a nice school and Mother was careful to never mention anything about the past,” he said.
To Hope Page 13