A Piece of Texas Trilogy

by Peggy Moreland

  “Wouldn’t say it, if I didn’t consider it the gospel truth.”

  “I don’t want to make her mad. I really do like her.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s just that she’s so possessive about the kitchen.”

  “Stand up to her,” Mary advised. “She’s had the run of this place long enough.”

  Addy squared her shoulders. “All right. But you have to promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “After they bury me, you have to paint the kitchen fire-engine red.”

  Mary blinked, then hooted a laugh. “Girl, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  In spite of her brave talk, Addy made another sweep through the kitchen, checking to make sure she’d returned everything to its proper place.

  She was standing in the pantry, straightening the canned goods on the shelf, when she heard the back door open. Sure that it was Zadie returning, she was tempted to pull the door closed and hide. All but trembling in fear, she listened as Zadie shuffled into the kitchen and set down her overnight bag.

  “Would you look at that,” she heard Zadie mutter under her breath. “Somebody left the dishcloth in the sink to sour.”

  Addy winced, remembering too late that she’d failed to spread the dishcloth out over the drainboard to dry, as was Zadie’s habit.

  “Well, hi, Zadie,” she heard Mary say, as the housekeeper entered the kitchen. “How’s Mabel doing?”

  “Good as can be expected, I guess.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t stay with her longer.”

  “Her daughter came from Tyler to see after her. Just as well. I ’bout worked myself to death cleanin’ that house. I swear that woman lives like a pig. Had to scrub down the kitchen ’for I could even cook a meal.”

  As Mary passed by the pantry, she reached to close the door. When she saw Addy cowering inside, she pressed her lips together to smother a laugh and walked on, leaving the door open a crack.

  “I ’magine Mr. Mack will be glad to see I’m home,” Zadie said. “Poor man’s probably half-starved by now.”

  Addy curled her nose in a snarl at the jab at her cooking abilities.

  “Actually,” Mary replied, quick to come to Addy’s defense, “he’s fit as a fiddle. Addy’s cooked him three squares a day.”

  Addy beamed a smile. It quickly morphed to a scowl, when she heard Zadie’s “humph.”

  Deciding it was high time she put Zadie in her place, she pushed open the pantry door and stepped out.

  “Well, hello, Zadie,” she said in surprise, as if she was unaware Zadie had returned and hadn’t heard every word the woman had uttered since entering the house. “How’s Mabel feeling?”

  Zadie’s eyes went round as saucers. “Uh—” she shot Mary a panicked look “—she’s gettin’ along real good. Real good.”

  Smiling sweetly, Addy braced a hip against the island and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m glad to hear that. Being waited on hand and foot gets old after a while.”

  “Yeah,” Zadie agreed, and shot Mary another look. “I ’magine it do.”

  Addy looked around the room, considering. “You know,” she said thoughtfully. “These walls could use freshening up.”

  Zadie swelled her chest in indignation. “Why, ain’t nothin’ wrong with these walls.”

  “Not the walls, per se,” Addy conceded. “It’s the color that needs sprucing.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with the color, either.”

  “But it’s so…drab.” She glanced at Mary, who was struggling not to laugh. “What do you think, Mary? Don’t you think the walls need some color?”

  “I like color,” Mary agreed, playing along with Addy. “Brings life to a room.”

  Zadie looked as if she were about to explode. “This room’s got enough life in it. Don’t need no more.”

  “What color were you thinking of painting it, Addy?” Mary asked, egging her on.

  Addy puckered her lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Something strong. Vibrant. Maybe red.”

  “Red!” Zadie cried. “You ain’t turnin’ my kitchen into no whorehouse.”

  The back door opened and Mack strode in, stopped short. “Well, hi, Zadie,” he said, in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Welcome home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Mack,” she replied, and shot Addy a frown. “Looks like I got back jist in the nick of time.”

  He tossed his hat onto the counter and looked at her curiously. “In time for what?”

  Zadie tossed up her hands. “To save my kitchen, that’s what. She’s wantin’ to paint it red.”

  Mack glanced at Addy. “Red?”

  She smiled weakly. “Maybe not red. I just thought the kitchen could use some freshening up.”

  Mack glanced around the room, as if considering, then nodded. “You’re right. It could stand to be repainted. Let me know when you decide on a color, and I’ll hire a crew to come in and do the work.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to make a couple of phone calls.” He stopped in front of Addy and gave her a kiss full on the lips, then headed for the door. “If you ladies need me,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll be in my office.”

  Zadie stood staring, her mouth open wide enough to catch flies, obviously shocked by the kiss she’d just witnessed.

  Addy lifted a brow. “Problem?”

  Zadie pursed her lips. “Well, I guess I don’t need to be askin’ who’s sleepin’ where,” she muttered. “And here I was thinkin’ I was gonna have to lock the two of you up in a room together, ’fore y’all figured out what a man and woman was created to do.”

  Addy pushed herself up to an elbow and swept her hair back from her face. “And then she said she was afraid she was going to have to lock us up in a room together so we could figure out what a woman and a man were created to do.”

  Chuckling, Mack stroked a hand along the curve of her waist. “She probably would’ve, too.”

  Addy snuggled close to his side, folding her hands between her head and his chest. “It’s weird. Creepy even.”

  He drew back to look at her. “What?”

  “Having someone living in the same house with us and her knowing what we’re doing every second of the day, even where we’re sleeping.”

  A laugh rumbled in his chest. “It’s not as if we’re doing something illegal.”

  She lifted her head to frown at him, then laid it back on his chest. “You know what I mean.” She stifled a shudder. “It’s creepy. Makes me feel like I’m on camera or something.”

  He stroked his fingertips lazily down her side. “Her apartment is on the other end of the house,” he reminded her. “She seldom comes to this wing of the house.”

  “Yeah, but still…”

  Chuckling, he rolled to his side and gathered her into his arms. “Would it make you feel better if I had an apartment built for her separate from the house?”

  She hid a smile, secretly pleased that he would go to such lengths just to make her happy. “No. But you might consider getting her ear plugs.”

  He lifted a brow. “You’re a screamer?”

  She drew a circle on his chest with a nail and shrugged. “If properly aroused.”

  “Since I’ve never heard you scream, am I supposed to take that as an insult?”

  She gave him a coy look. “Or a challenge.”

  Laughing, he pulled her over on top of him and gripped her buttocks in his hands. “Nobody enjoys a challenge more than I do.”

  Smiling, she inched up his chest until her mouth was a breath away from his. “Lucky you. It just so happens I’m in the mood to scream.”

  “Found him in Houston,” Lenny told Mack, then spun the file around on his desk for Mack to read. “He’s shacked up with a woman in a condo near the Galleria. Been there about five months, best the P.I. can figure.”

  Mack studied the picture of the leggy blonde captured on film walking down the sidewalk, her arm linked through Ty’s. “Looks like his type,” he commented,
then pushed the file back toward Lenny and sank into his chair. “Have you made contact with him?”

  “This morning.” Lenny shook his head sadly. “Ten o’clock in the morning and I woke him out of a dead sleep.”

  “I take it he’s unemployed.”

  “Appears that way. The P.I. said when he leaves the condo, he has the woman in tow.”

  “Is she wealthy?”

  “Lives off a trust fund set up by her grandfather. From her financials, if she’s careful, she’ll never have to work a day in her life.”

  Mack snorted. “A year, two at the latest, and Ty will drain her dry.”

  Lenny tipped his head in acknowledgment. “If his past spending habits are any indication, you’re probably right.”

  “So, what have you got planned?”

  Lenny pulled a file from the drawer on his left. “The document is prepared and ready for his signature. I’ve arranged for a notary public to meet you at the Houston airport at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon to witness Ty signing, and advised Ty of the same.”

  “He agreed to meet me?”

  Lenny gave him a droll look. “What do you think? All I had to say was the word paternity and he was scrambling for a pen.”

  Mack shook his head. “He’ll never grow up.”

  “Oh, he grew up, all right,” Lenny said, then added dryly, “Too bad his brain didn’t develop at the same rate.”

  Mack tossed his toiletry bag into his suitcase and crossed to the closet to pull out a shirt. “It’s fairly cut-and-dried,” he explained to Addy. “I give Ty the document Lenny prepared, he signs it, the notary stamps it with his seal, and we’re done.”

  He stripped the shirt from the hanger, as he walked back to the bed. Addy took it from him and carefully folded it, her forehead pleated with worry.

  “And that’s the end of it?” she asked uncertainly, as she tucked the shirt into his suitcase. “He can never challenge his parental right to Johnny Mack?”

  “Nope. Once he signs the document, he gives up all rights to our son.”

  Addy pressed a hand against her chest, touched by Mack’s reference to Johnny Mack as their son, rather than just hers. Blinking back tears, she dropped her hand to reach for his and linked her fingers with his. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  His gaze on hers, he brought their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “Ty might be many things, but he’s not violent. He won’t hurt me.”

  Though she’d never seen any evidence of violence in Ty, she couldn’t shake free from the premonition of doom that had shadowed her thoughts ever since Mack had returned from the lawyer’s office and told her of his plans to go to Houston.

  Forcing a smile, she gave his hand a squeeze and released it. “Just the same, be careful. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He zipped his bag closed and hefted it from the bed.

  It was all she could do to keep from throwing herself at his feet and begging him not to go.

  “Do you really need to leave tonight?” she asked, trying to think of a way to delay his departure. “You’re not scheduled to meet him until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I don’t want to take a chance on traffic or car trouble keeping me from getting to the airport by three.”

  “But you could leave early in the morning and make it to the airport with time to spare.”

  Shaking his head, he slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, as he walked with her to the nursery door. “Would you stop worrying? I’m going to be fine.”

  She pressed her head against his shoulder as they entered the nursery, then eased from his embrace as he stopped before the crib and set his suitcase on the floor. Tears filled her eyes as he leaned over the crib and brushed his fingers over Johnny Mack’s cheek.

  “You be good while I’m gone,” he whispered to the sleeping baby. “And take good care of your mommy for me.” He bent over and pressed a kiss to Johnny Mack’s forehead, then straightened and simply looked at him, a hand cupped at the top of the infant’s head.

  After a moment he picked up his suitcase and hooked an arm around Addy’s waist. “If he wakes up in the night,” he whispered as he guided her from the nursery, “try singing to him. He seems to favor country-western. Two verses of a George Strait song usually puts him right back to sleep.”

  He stopped in the doorway of what she had come to think of as “their” room and placed a hand on her cheek. “Let’s say our goodbyes here,” he suggested quietly. “If I kiss you ’bye at the door, Zadie might expect one, too.”

  Laughing through the tears that filled her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Be safe,” she whispered.

  “You, too.”

  He kissed her, lingering a moment, then sealed it with another quick kiss and turned away. “See you tomorrow.”

  She lifted a hand as he walked away. When he reached the turn in the hallway that led to the front of the house, panic seized her. “Mack! Wait!”

  He stopped, turned. “Yes?”

  With tears blurring her vision, she pressed a hand to her lips to hold back the three words her heart screamed for her to say.

  Dropping her hand to her side, she said instead, “Don’t forget to put on your seatbelt.”

  The smile he offered her was soft, the look in his eyes warm. “I won’t forget. ’Night, Addy.”

  He turned and rounded the corner, disappearing from sight.

  “’Night, Mack,” she whispered.

  Mack offered his hand to the notary public seated at the table at the airport bar. “Mack McGruder,” he said, by way of introduction.

  The man stood, his grip firm as he shook Mack’s hand. “Glen Powell.”

  Mack juggled the briefcase nervously in his hand, as he looked around. “Ty hasn’t made it yet?”

  Glen sat back down. “Not so far as I know.” He glanced at his wrist watch. “It’s not quite three, though. He’s got some time.”

  Releasing a nervous breath, Mack propped the briefcase on a chair, then sat down opposite the notary public. A waitress appeared at his side and he ordered a beer, hoping it would calm his nerves. He hadn’t slept much the night before, which is why he’d insisted on going to Houston a day early. He’d known if he’d stayed at home, he wouldn’t have been able to hide his nervousness from Addy, and he didn’t want his uneasiness to infect her. She was worried enough as it was.

  Not that there was anything to worry about, he reminded himself. There was no reason to think that Ty would balk at signing the papers. He’d signed the other paternal releases Mack had presented him with without batting an eye.

  The waitress arrived with Mack’s beer and he gulped a swallow, then glanced toward the wide aisle beyond the bar’s entrance, where passengers hustled past in both directions, hurrying to meet their flights. Not a sign of Ty, though.

  He rolled his wrist, checked the time: 3:05. He set his jaw, refusing to accept Ty’s tardiness as a sign his half brother wasn’t going to show. Ty was always late, he reminded himself. Time meant nothing to a man who had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

  Addy ran out the front door, clutching the baby in one arm and waving the other frantically over her head. “Zadie! Wait!”

  Her lips pursed in disgust, Zadie cranked down her window. “What’d you forget this time?” she asked sourly.

  “A bottle of champagne. Mack will be home tonight and we’ll want to celebrate.”

  Rolling her eyes, Zadie cranked the window back up and drove away.

  “Hag,” Addy muttered under her breath, then nuzzled her nose against Johnny Mack’s cheek. “She really loves us,” she told him. “She just has a hard time showing her feelings.”

  He pumped his legs and arms as if trying to fly, and made Addy laugh. “You little doll,” she said, hugging him to her, as she stepped back into the house. “How about a bath?” she asked him, as she headed back to her suite of r
ooms. “You can blow bubbles and splash all you want.”

  He pumped his legs again in excitement, as if he understood exactly what she was saying.

  “You are way too smart,” she informed him, as she set out the items needed for his bath on the bathroom vanity. Placing him on the elevated platform of his tub, she began removing his clothes. “Mack will be home tonight,” she told him, then couldn’t resist tickling him under his chin. “I’ll bet he missed you. Did you miss him?”

  He stared at her, his eyes round, listening intently.

  She turned on the tap and waved her fingers beneath the stream of water, testing the temperature. “Mack’s a good man,” she went on. “You’re lucky to have a father who loves you so much.” Slipping the bath mitt over her hand, she squirted soap over her palm. “I never knew my father. Did you know that? He died before I was born.”

  She wrinkled her nose and leaned to bump it against the baby’s. “Sad, huh? Not having a father?” Smiling, she began to rub the soapy mitt over his stomach. “But you’ll always have Mack. He loves you so much. And he’s a good father,” she assured him, as she worked her way down his stomach to his legs. “Not many daddies would get up in the night like he does with you. Let’s scrub your back,” she said, and slipped a hand beneath him to lift him up far enough to soap his back side.

  “There,” she said, after rinsing him off. “All clean.” Taking the hooded towel she’d laid out, she picked him up and wrapped it around him. “Ready for a diaper and some clean clothes?” she asked, continuing the one-sided conversation.

  Entering the nursery, she balanced him in the crook of her arm, while plucking a romper from his chest of drawers. Cooing to him, she quickly diapered him and fumbled him into his clothes. “There,” she said, at last. “All dressed for the day. How about if we rock while you nurse?” she asked as she sat down in the chair. Settling Johnny Mack in her arms, she opened her blouse and offered him her breast. A loving smile curved her lips, as he latched on to the nipple and began to suckle.

  She pushed her foot against the floor to set the rocker into motion and began to hum. As he nursed, her mind drifted to the worries that had huddled on the edge of her mind since Mack had left the night before. Specifically Mack’s meeting with Ty.