The master bedroom had cherry-wood Queen Anne furniture, and the floors had white, not beige, but white carpet. I simply bought a new spread in gold, green and navy stripes, with matching accessories. The Queen Anne armoire was angled in a corner and the two bed-side tables had beautiful lamps with gold fabric shades. I had a vanity bench in the same fabric made to run along the foot of the four-poster bed. The draperies matched and the puffy valances were trimmed with gold braid. I picked up small splashes of red to make it pop, and we had two navy wingback chairs in a little sitting area under the window with a lamp and a floral arrangement in red, golds and greens. A crystal chandelier hung over the bed close to the foot of the bed. It was wonderfully stunning, and the two rooms flowed with each other, because of the matching wallpaper. There was a set of beautiful French doors that led outside to the veranda adorned with lovely furniture. I had Shay put a lock at the top of the doors so Kelly couldn’t reach it. I never wanted her out there without us. I was a paranoid mother. It also helped that I could pull the drapes over the doors and she’d not see the lock.
***
Back in the 60s you could get butter yellow carpet so that’s what I had in the nursery. Since I simply fell in love with the striped wallpaper, I had mom paper the nursery in a yellow, pink and mint green stripe on three walls and I painted one wall butter yellow, accented with a children’s Victorian border. The nursery furniture was a dark rich wood, two chests of drawers, changing table, crib, small bed for Kelly and a bassinet that had a yellow hood and skirt in ruffles. I drove around down by the river where I found the perfect dead tree branch that was about seven feet tall. I had Shay go get it with the pickup.
“We’re not putting a dead tree in the house,” he said. “Yes, we are,” I said.
The ceilings in the suite were about 9 feet in high. The tree had lots of branches and I had Shay power-wash it, then I stained it dark brown, and put a sealer on it. Then he mounted it in plaster of paris in a large flower pot I’d painted to match the room. I think he was getting paranoid now as he toggled it to the wall so it could never tip over. This made a perfect clothes-hanging tree—I put little hangers on it with little baby outfits and I placed stuffed animals on some of the branches. We had attached some fake greenery vines to soften the room. We finished it off with nursery pictures and a wall shelf with cute toys on it. It was precious.
***
I had to give some thought to the bathroom. So I followed my theme—same drapes as the bedroom, tie back curtains over the tub, the same fabric on a skirted chair for the dressing table. I had Shay remove the old light fixtures, and drop two small crystal chandeliers on gold chains, that I had covered with plain gold fabric. With navy throw rugs, gold and red accents, wow—it was fabulous! Anyway, Shay was amazed—he loved it. He said he needed to put me back to work interior decorating. Now, he was kidding—he was not letting me go back to work.
“Okay, princess,” Shay said when we stepped back to survey the project in completion. “I have to admit that dead tree looks pretty good. How do you think of these things?”
I opened my mouth to respond but he kissed it shut. “I don’t want to know. I just love that you think of them.” He took me in his arms and you know what came next.
***
Shay loved everything I’d done, but that wasn’t my worry. I was glad he liked everything, but the big test was yet to come: Maggie had said she was going to stay completely out of my way, and when everything was finished, I was to reveal my masterpiece. (I think she had her doubts and didn’t want to take any responsibility for the screw up that might come.)
During breakfast that day, I told Maggie that the suite was done.
She looked surprised. “How’d you do it so fast?”
“Well, I do everything fast, as you’ll learn, Maggie,” I said. “I make decisions and I don’t change my mind. So,” I said, folding my napkin, “I would like to invite you for tea this afternoon at 2 p.m.” I turned to Cookie, who was setting a pitcher of orange juice on the table. “I’d like you to come as well, Cookie.”
Her face lit up and she accepted readily. As did Maggie, with a little more reserve.
When the clock struck 2 p.m., I heard a knock on the door of the suite. I was nervous for Maggie to see my work; she had very good taste. I was pretty confident, though I can’t say I was calm. I answered the door and they both stepped in and Maggie’s eyes widened and this great smile spread across her face. Not her usual polite smile, but a genuine, delighted smile.
“Oh my gosh,” she beamed, “this is out of this world!” She turned around, looking at everything. “I want you to do the whole house! Will you? Will you, please?”
I told her she really didn’t need my help, her taste was great, but if she wanted help with anything, I was but a few steps away.
Cookie just loved it. She hugged me and told me she expected nothing less.
“You know, Sweetie,” she said, “this is truly a show place. I knew it was, because one day when I asked Shay how it was looking, he got this big grin on his face and said, ‘Cookie, that woman never ceases to amaze me.’”
We had a lovely tea and Maggie just couldn’t stop smiling and complimenting me on every detail. I have to admit, it was like winning gold.
***
Soon after this minor but meaningful triumph, Samson and Sunset arrived at the ranch. I was so excited. What a big day for me. I ran to the barn to watch them being unloaded. They were as magnificent as I remembered. When we first saw them at the auction, Shay had said they looked like Arabians (though some of the guys had speculated that they were Mustangs, while others had said Pacing horses, none of which meant anything to me.) It turned out Shay was right. When we got their papers we discovered they were purebred Arabians. Shay told me Arabians were from the desert. Wow, I wondered, how did they get clear to Nebraska!
Shay said they were spirited, but that didn’t scare me, I knew all about spirit. I found them to be gentle and responsive to gentleness. Kelly loved watching them, so I took her out to see them every day, and every evening that Shay got back before dark we took them out riding by the river and around the lake. The horses always got a rest halfway through, as Shay had me down on the ground, rolling around. That guy never missed an opportunity for sex. (Once I remarked to Maggie that I never knew that sex could be so plentiful and her response was, “Like father, like son. Get used to it. It doesn’t get better.” Well, I’d meant it as a good thing, but I thought it best to let the conversation end there.)
***
Life was good for the next few months. Everyone tried to give each other space in the Big House. Though there were a few incidents worth mentioning.
One morning around 7:30, while Shay was taking a shower, I went downstairs to get two glasses of orange juice. I always wore this cute little smock robe that was about four inches above the knee. I went through the dining room where Maggie and Sterling were having breakfast. We exchanged good mornings and I headed into the kitchen to get a couple of glasses.
While I was standing in front of the refrigerator I heard Sterling say, “I’d give anything to get into that just one time.”
“Oh, you make me sick, Sterling,” Maggie shot back. “You act like you’ve never had it before.”
“Well, not with something like that I haven’t!”
I stood there stock-still, holding the two glasses. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this at all, let alone between husband and wife at the breakfast table. Maggie must have thrown a cup at Sterling at this point, because suddenly there came the sound of something breaking, and chairs scraping against the floor.
I filled our glasses in a hurry, gathered myself together and slipped through the dining room as quickly as I could. I bolted up the stairs, probably spilling some juice in the process.
“Shay, Shay! Do you know what your dad just said while I was in the kitchen?”
“No, what’d he say?”
> I told him.
I could tell it pissed Shay off. He didn’t say much, but there was no doubt in my mind that he would be confronting Sterling when the time was right.
He hugged me and said, “I know what the guy means, now drink your orange juice. I’ve decided I want you back in that bed.”
He had me again in less than one hour. Had what Sterling said turned him on? Or was it some kind of territorial thing? I supposed the two things could intermingle.
***
A couple of weeks later, Shay came in around 7 p.m. and said he was going to take a shower and meet some of the hands at the Larimer bar for a few beers.
“Can I go?”
“Just the guys, baby. It’s been a long day. You stay home and keep the home fires burning. I won’t be gone long. Probably be home by 9."
Well, by 10:30, Shay wasn’t home and I was starting to get a little fiery. I called over and asked Cookie if I could drop Kelly off with her.
She said, “Sure, sweetie, but Joe’s not home yet either. Sometimes they lose track of the time.”
“Well, I’ve had a long day and I want some company from my husband, so I’m going to go get him, or at least join him.”
“Well, sweetie, now you be careful and drive those roads slowly, ya hear?”
“Yes, Cookie.”
Off I went to Larimer, parked the car and went into the bar. I saw a lot of the crew, but what struck me instantly was Shay playing checkers with some girl. I don’t know if it was my pregnancy hormones raging or just plain old jealously, but I walked up to the table where they were sitting, grabbed the checkerboard and flipped it in the air. Checkers flew everywhere.
“You bastard!” I yelled and ran out the door.
I jumped in the car and drove home. As soon as I got there I called Cookie and asked if she’d keep Kelly all night.
Now, for the first time since I’d known Shay, I was actually frightened at what I’d done. I knew I was in big trouble and I was actually scared. Hell, I was terrified! I’d only known Shay a year and a half, and I’d seen him when he was angry—the back of his neck would get red, and remain so until he decided how he was going to react to the situation. Shay was one tough hombre.
Okay, I had to analyze the situation. I had humiliated him, not only in front of his friends, but in front the help! I had sworn and he had told me never to use bad language. Should I call my dad to come get Kelly and me? Would Shay hit me? Back in the Sixties, there was no law against that stuff. It was considered a matter between a man and his wife. Maybe he’d want a divorce!
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to hurt me in his anger. Boy, I hoped he had just been drinking beer. Hard liquor could make him mean, just like his father. Oh gosh, what should I do? I couldn’t wake Maggie; I didn’t want Sterling to know. There would probably be a lot of yelling. Still, the rooms were pretty sound-proofed. I just kept pacing and pacing, my mind spinning; unraveling. I was actually trembling. Then, through the window I saw car lights pull into the yard. I sat down in the corner of one of the sage-green sofas and waited for my demise.
Shay opened the door quietly, as usual. He walked past me, without meeting my eyes, through the bedroom, into the bathroom. I sat waiting, wild-eyed, on the sofa. After what felt like an eternity, he came out, walked over to the floor-model black and white television, and turned it on. Then he walked over to the sofa across from me and lay down, bracing his head against two sofa pillows.
He watched television for about five minutes. Then he said, “You can change the channel if you want to watch something else, Callie.”
“No,” I said meekly, “that’s fine.”
Then he said, “Come here, Callie. Come over here and lay by me.”
I got up slowly and crossed the carpet towards the other sofa. He put his arm up so I knew he wanted me to lie in his arms. When he did that, I completely broke down. I buried my face in his shirt and cried.
“I’m sorry, Shay, I’m so sorry.” He held me close and even patted my back to console me. “I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right.”
“Now hush, princess, calm down. You’re shaking. I’m not mad at you. Granted, I was upset with you for awhile, but when we were down on the floor picking up all those checkers, Joe said to me, ‘Man, Shay, you’re goin’ home to a wild woman tonight.’”
He stroked my back thoughtfully.
“I drove home real slowly so I’d calm down, and I kept remembering what Joe had said. I was going home to a wild woman. Heck, all those guys in the bar should be so lucky. They were going home to drab, run-of-the-mill sex (if they were going home to sex at all) and I was going home to a wild woman! They had no idea how wild my woman could be, and I know how lucky I am, so there, little wild woman, you’re okay. So calm down.”
I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. He stroked my hair and we didn’t make it off that sofa for a while. I tell you, those sofas were good for more than sitting!
***
However, all good things must end and in the morning Shay did make it clear that he never wanted a scene like that again. I asked him not to tell Sterling.
“Are you kidding? By now everyone in Larimer and Westover will know.”
“What will your dad say?”
“Well, he’s not very tolerant. I once saw him pin Maggie against a wall and slap her.”
“What did you do!”
“Nothing. Wasn’t my business. I figured she must have done something to deserve it.”
“Shay, why do you always stick up for your dad?” I asked, shaking my head. It seemed he had a blind spot when it came to Sterling. “I’ve heard you call your mom a bitch once when you were mad at her. Please don’t do that to me.”
“Then don’t rise to the occasion,” he said as he went out the door.
I think at this point I knew I needed to learn to walk on eggshells and that just wasn’t me. I was a smart mouth with a hot little temper.
***
The last incident worth mentioning should be filed under Stupidity.
Shay and his best friend Kevin decided to take the boat to Harvard City Dam before water skiing season was over. I didn’t want to go, with my dislike of boats and all, but Shay talked me into going. He had used his new red and white boat a lot since he got it, out at Westover Lake. It was a couple hundred miles to the dam.
Once we were there, after Shay had backed the boat down the long boat ramp to launch it, Kevin yelled from outside, “Hey, Shay, do we have enough beer?”
“Don’t know.”
“Shall we get more?”
“Hey, Callie, sit in the driver’s seat while Kevin and I run up the hill to the marina to get some more supplies.”
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Nothing, just sit there with your foot on the brake.”
“Okay, but hurry. This scares me.”
I wasn’t sitting there too long before I heard this grinding sound. It was like it was coming from the engine. There it went again, I got so scared I jumped out, and as I stood there yelling for Shay, the entire trailer, boat and pickup, slid backward into the water, further and further.
I heard Shay yelling, ”Callie, jump in and hit the brake,” as he came running down the hill. Too late, it was gone; totally submerged and out of sight. Shay just stood there, frozen. Kevin came down the hill and gawked at us both standing there.
“Shay, where’s the rig?”
“At the bottom of the lake,” Shay said dazedly.
We must have stood there like idiots for ten or fifteen minutes, until Shay said finally, “Well, we might as well go up to the marina and call home for a ride.”
When the people in the marina heard about it, it became the talk of the lake for the day. We sat in a booth for a while and the guys had a beer. Some of Shay’s old friends came in.
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