“Nope. Just a boy I had a crush on last year, called and asked if I wanted to ride into Poplar Bluff and go to a movie. Seems like all of a sudden I’m hot stuff since I’m going to be recording with you. I thought about saying no, just to get even with him for ignoring me last year, but then I thought, what the heck. A date’s a date.”
“I didn’t have much time for boys when I was in high school either.”
“I know you didn’t have much time for my dad.”
When Tess made no reply, Casey dropped her chin and looked back over her shoulder, giving Tess a shot of the underside of her hat brim and her teasing eyes. Finally she asked, “Want to try trotting awhile?”
“Why not.”
She kicked Rowdy into a trot and Sunflower followed suit. After fifty yards they picked up to an easy canter that took them up the rim of the valley into the woods, where Casey reined in and was waiting at a standstill, head-on, when Tess reached her and reined in, too.
“You doing okay?” Casey asked. She gauged Tess’s inexperience well and wasn’t pushing it.
“So far, so good.”
The horses both shook their heads, sending their manes flopping and their harnesses jingling.
“We’ll let them rest for a while.” Casey patted Rowdy’s shoulder, then sat silently, looking up at the trees. After a while she slung a leg around the pommel and braced her hands on the horse’s rump, still studying the green canopy above them. Some cottonwoods rustled and a nearby pine gave off a scent of dry needles. The horses dipped their heads to crop grass.
Out of the blue Casey asked, “So what’s going on between you and my dad?”
Tess did a poor job of hiding her surprise. “Nothing.”
“I thought I caught some undercurrents at our table the other night, and on the church steps this morning I interrupted something. I could tell.”
“No. Nothing.”
“He was whispering and you were blushing.”
“In front of all those people? You think we’d carry on some kind of flirtation with half of the town gawking at us? That wouldn’t be too bright.”
“Well, what was going on then? He was hugging you.”
“He was thanking me for singing today.”
“Oh, is that all,” Casey said dryly. Again she looked up into the trees as if the subject were forgotten, then abruptly she added, “Well, he’s a good man. You could do worse.” She swung her leg off the horse’s neck and picked up the reins as if to move on.
Tess said, “He’s committed to Faith and I’m going back to Nashville in two weeks.”
“That doesn’t mean something can’t be going on. And just in case it is, I want you to know it’s perfectly okay with me. I think it’d be wild to have you and Dad carry on a real steamy love affair. I’ll bet you could show him a thing or two.”
“Casey!”
“Well, Faith is okay, but I’ll bet kissing her would be like kissing somebody in a coma.”
“Does your dad know you talk about her like this?”
“Heck, no. Got to keep the old charlotte russe going.”
Against her better judgment, Tess laughed. Casey was turning her horse deeper into the woods when she glanced out toward the meadow and said, “Well, well … look who’s coming.”
Tess craned around in her saddle and saw Kenny riding toward them. His mount was a bay stallion, and he rode him at a trot, the reins in one gloved hand and his curled straw hat brim pulled low over his eyes. He caught sight of them in the shade and kicked the bay into an easy canter. Though his face was unreadable at this distance, his posture radiated absolute purpose as he headed toward them. He rode like a man to whom doing so is second nature, dressed in blue jeans and a spotless white T-shirt, which the wind pressed against his chest and rippled across his ribs.
Reaching them, he reined to a stop, and said, “I changed my mind. It got lonesome at home.” He barely had a glance for his daughter but studied Tess from beneath his hat brim with eyes that gave away more than he wanted.
Casey was grinning. “I was just saying to Tess—”
“Casey!” Tess shot her a warning glare.
“Nothing,” she finished, turning her horse up the trail. “Glad you came, Dad. We’re taking it easy ‘cause Tess isn’t used to it.”
They rode for another hour and a half, talking little, enjoying nature and the beautiful spring day. Casey and Kenny kept Tess between them, and the horses behaved beautifully. Near four o’clock when they were heading back toward the paddock, thunderheads had built up in the southwest and the breeze had cooled.
“Gonna get some rain,” Kenny said.
“The garden could use it,” Tess replied, a reply that would not have occurred to her two weeks ago.
Casey only grinned back at them over her shoulder. Discussing the weather like a couple of old farmers. You don’t fool me.
They each undressed their own horse, but Kenny came over and helped Tess remove her saddle. She watched him carry it through the door of the tack room and throw it over a sawhorse, his sturdy arms taking on definition as he moved and twisted. His back was as tapered as a turnip, his T-shirt still tucked in neatly at the waist. She fixed her eyes on the spot where it disappeared into the denim waistband of his jeans.
He turned and caught her staring, and she returned to the business of taking care of Sunflower, who was crosstied in the aisle between the box stalls.
Kenny came back and asked casually, “Want to ride back to town with me, Tess?”
She looked first at Casey, then at him. “Oh, I don’t think I’d bet—”
“It’s okay,” Casey put in. “Go with him. I gotta stop and put gas in my truck anyway, and besides, I’m in a hurry. I’m not even going to take time to curry Rowdy. Gotta get home and get ready for my date.” She led Rowdy to the door and turned him out into the paddock, then came back, lifting a hand as she passed. “Hey, you two have fun. See you in the morning, Dad. I probably won’t get in till after eleven ‘cause we’re driving clear over to Poplar Bluff to a movie.”
“Okay. Be careful.”
A minute later Tess and Kenny heard the sound of her truck starting and rumbling away. They rubbed down their horses in silence, conscious of each other as they moved around the animals. He set down his brush and came to her. “That’s good. I’ll take her out.” He led Sunflower to the door where he turned her out before doing the same with his horse, then took their brushes and halters to the tack room and returned to the doorway, pulling off his gloves.
“If you want to wash your hands there’s a sink in here.”
“Oh … thanks.”
They stood side by side lathering at a black rubber sink with an oversized cube of bumpy yellow soap that smelled like petroleum. She watched his square capable hands and his hairy arms as he ran soap to the elbow and rinsed like a doctor before surgery. He watched her fair, freckled arms and perfect persimmon nails as she rubbed her delicate hands together, rinsed once avoiding her expensive watch, checked her nails for chips, then rinsed again.
He snagged a rough blue towel from an iron hook on the wall and they each used one end. They accidentally looked up once while drying their hands, then quickly down again. When they finished he slung the towel over the hook and picked up his gloves.
“Let’s go.”
His car was as clean as Casey’s truck was filthy. He drove with no particular hurry, the windows down and the wind blowing in while the sky grew darker and the pines beside the road started bending. Tess removed her sunglasses and hung them from the neck of her T-shirt.
He glanced over, then back at the gravel road.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Famished.”
“How ‘bout if a country boy from Wintergreen takes you out to dinner?”
“Dressed like this?”
He turned his head and gave her a lazy grin. “I know just the place.”
He took her to the Sonic Drive-in, and they parked under the long metal awn
ing, between an old couple who were having root beer floats, on their left, and fifteen empty spaces on the right. The menu and speaker were on his side. He rested his elbow on the window ledge and pinched his lower lip as he looked it over. “What do you want?”
“I can’t see the menu.” She unsnapped her seat belt and slid over, one hand on the wheel, the other on his headrest. While she ducked her head and searched the menu, he kept studying it as well. Their hat brims were six inches apart.
She said, “Is that you who smells like gasoline, or is that me?”
He laughed and turned his head, reducing the six inches to four. “Gasoline and horses, a mighty tempting combination, isn’t it?”
She drew her mouth into a smirk, and said quietly, “Mighty tempting.”
“So?”
“Burger in a basket.”
“All right. Then get over there on your side if you know what’s good for you.”
She slid back to her side, turned her shoulder blades against the door and pulled a knee up on the seat while he pushed the call button and gave their order.
When he finished, he angled himself in the corner and looked back at her, the brim of his straw hat tipped so low it hid his eyebrows. Thunder rumbled off toward the south-west, but they scarcely paid attention. They had immersed themselves in the illusion that they were teenagers again—the car, the drive-in, their flirtatious poses. They let them-selves become willing victims of the mood they had created—unwisely perhaps—but for these few unfettered hours on a Sunday afternoon they threw wisdom to the wind.
Finally Tess said, “Casey asked me today what’s going on between you and me.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. Nothing.” She picked a piece of horsehair off her jeans and flicked it on the floor. “Then she said it’s okay if we start something.”
“She said that, did she?”
Tess gave the faintest shrug. “You know Casey.”
“Yeah, I know Casey.”
They thought about it for a while before Tess said, “Of course, we both know that’s not a good idea.”
“Of course.”
“After all, there’s Faith.”
“Yes, of course, Faith.”
“And I’m going back to Nashville in two weeks.”
“Where you belong,” he added.
“Where I belong.”
“And I’m just a small town accountant with”—he gestured at their surroundings—“nothing to offer but an oc casional burger in a basket at the Sonic Drive-in and a mediocre choir to back you up on Sundays.”
They either had to give in and kiss each other or die wanting to. The carhop saved them from either catastrophe by delivering their tray.
“Could you roll up the window some?” she said, and, when he had, she hung the tray. “Ten dollars and seventy cents, please.” He dug the money out of his pocket. Tess enjoyed watching him lever himself off the seat and dig for change in the front and his billfold in the back, his stomach going flatter inside his T-shirt.
“You know what?” Tess said when he was reaching for their food. “This is the first date I’ve had in two years. More than two years.”
He passed her a red plastic basket.
“What about the singer back in Nashville?”
“No, I mean a date, where I go out with a man and he buys me dinner and takes me home. I find I can’t do that anymore.”
“Too rich? Too famous?”
“Both. You don’t know what people are after you for.”
A shiny new pickup with three teenagers pulled in on their right. It had a chrome roll bar, a royal blue cab, and a radio booming like the South Pacific in World War II. When it silenced, Kenny asked, “That what you think about me? That I’m after something?”
“No. I think you’re just an accident.”
“Oh, that’s flattering.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, it’s nice not to be lumped with the groupies.”
“In Nashville we call them germs.” She pronounced it with a hard G.
“Germs?”
“Comes from groupies and germs. But, believe me, you’re not one of them.”
The burgers were juicy and delicious and they gave up flirting to sink their teeth in, dipping their french fries in ketchup and munching pickles. She couldn’t finish hers, and when she laid it down he asked, “You all done?”
“Yes. You want it?”
He laid claim to her burger and while he was polishing it off she wiped her mouth on a paper napkin and glanced at the blue pickup. “Oh-oh,” she said, “I think I’ve been spotted.” Three faces with bad skin were smiling her way and gaping. “You all done?” Kenny jammed the rest of her burger in his mouth and she said, “Let’s go.”
He tapped on the horn and the carhop came out to collect their tray.
The rain began as they backed out of their parking spot. They rolled up their windows and he switched on the wipers and turned left onto Main Street. They cruised its deserted length at fifteen miles an hour, neither of them anxious to get home. The town had one traffic light. Luckily, it was red, which gave them more time. They stared at the rain streaming down the windshield, looking like fruit juice in the reflected glow of the traffic light. On the car roof it began pattering louder as they waited for the light to change and resisted every bodily instinct that had been badgering them all afternoon. She looked at Kenny. He looked at her. The light turned green and they moved on.
Tess said, “Faith is probably going to find out you were with me.”
“You know, I get a little tired of you bringing up Faith all the time.”
“Sorry,” she said meekly, and looked out her side window. After that he got silent as a sphinx, the way he’d been in the alley this morning before church.
They drove around the town square, then headed north on Sycamore. The rain began pounding down even harder and he increased the tempo of the wipers. The air felt clammy and tense as home got closer and closer. When they were approaching the south end of their alley she said, “Thought you said you weren’t going to do that anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Ice up on me.”
It was his turn to be meek. “Sorry.”
He turned into the alley and the trees formed churning blurs in the wind-whipped storm. The headlights rocked against wet garage walls that pressed close on both sides. He reached his own garage and pulled up before it, activated the door and would have driven inside, but she said, “Leave it out here. I like the storm.”
With only a glance at her he complied, killing the lights, wipers and engine. They sat with the rain battering the roof, sealed inside the humid, dark car. Thunder and lightning created havoc around them.
“Well, here we are,” he said.
Tess peered at the lights in her mother’s kitchen window. “Renee is probably ready to kill me for being gone so long.”
“You gonna run through this?” he said.
“No, I’ll wait a minute.”
He glanced at the dark windows of his house. “The kids probably got caught in this on their way to Poplar Bluff.”
“They’ll be okay.”
More rain, more lightning, more thunder, and the two of them unable to think of more to say. The windows began fogging over from their breath and their clothes seemed to cling to their skin. Though it was only six P.M. the world was murky and obscure beneath the roiling clouds. Nobody in the house could see a thing that was going on out here, and both people in the car knew it. Suddenly Tess’s frustration boiled over.
“Look, Kenny, this is ridiculous! I’m a full-grown adult and I’m playing games with you like a kid. Just don’t tell Faith I did this, all right?”
She reared up on one knee, dropped sideways, braced a hand on the driver’s door, and kissed him. Angled beneath his straw hat, she found his mouth with her own and stayed a while, forcing the issue they’d both been sidestepping since … since when? Hard to remem
ber when the compulsion first arrived. Sometime between the night of her arrival when he’d snubbed her and the night of choir practice when he’d ridden in her car. She’d caught him so off guard that he’d actually pulled back. She used it to her advantage and took a fair bit of time having her way with him while he was still wondering what his sense of honor would allow him to do. It was a good kiss, and honest, a two-way exchange, and when it ended he had both hands around her ribs under the lopped-off T-shirt to keep her from falling completely against him.
She drew back a mere inch. His breath came fast and his lips were open in surprise. She smiled in the dark, and told him, “That’s for the time I teased you on the school bus.” Her pose was awkward, his hands on her rib cage warm and spanning two-thirds of her girth. “Consider this completely my doing,” she added. “I absolve you from all guilt, my dear Saint Kenny. Thanks for a wonderful day.”
She kissed him again, quickly, got out and ran through the cold, driving rain to the house.
Inside the house Mary and Renee were watching 60 Minutes. Tess came charging in the back door, dripping. “Hey, will somebody bring me a towel, please?”
Renee showed up a moment later and tossed her one.
“About time you got here. We were getting worried.”
“Sorry. I should have called.” She threw off her cap, mopped the ends of her wet hair and sponged her soaked T-shirt.
“You weren’t out riding all this time. Not in the thunder and lightning.”
“No. I went to the Sonic Drive-in with Kenny.”
“With Kenny. Well.” Tess sat on a step and pulled off her boots while Renee studied the top of her red hair. “I thought you went riding with Casey. I didn’t know he was going along.”
Tess stood up, damp but no longer dripping, and set her boots against the wall. “Hey, listen, are you in a hurry to get home or could I talk to you for a minute?”
“I can stay awhile longer.”
Tess led the way across the kitchen and said quietly, so Mary couldn’t hear, “Come upstairs with me.” In the liv ing room Mary said, “You’re back, did you have a good time?” and returned to her show.
“Sure did.”
Small Town Girl Page 20