“I was about to hang up. It rang four times.”
“I was talking to Lottie about the clothes closet duties. Are you coming down here tonight? I made a cake,” Betty said.
“I’m on my way. But I’ve got this big favor.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even let me tell you what it is.”
“I don’t care what it is. If you need help and I can provide it, the answer is yes. How far away are you?”
“Five minutes.”
“I’ll put the coffee on,” Betty said.
Betty could not ever remember her sister asking her for anything. She’d gone to college right out of high school but never finished. And then she got a really good job in Dallas that she never discussed, but she was always generous with her money. So if she needed help, Betty would do what she could. She filled the Mr. Coffee and met Darla on the porch.
“It’s a big favor.” Darla bent to hug Betty, who was six inches shorter than Darla and fifty pounds heavier. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut in a bob and her face was as round as a pumpkin. She wore a caftan with bright red roses on a black background and her house shoes.
Betty didn’t even hesitate when she nodded. The young girl with Darla looked like she’d barely survived a car wreck, but Betty knew what had caused all that damage and it had nothing to do with an automobile. She’d seen it before and she’d helped a couple of women escape men who did such things.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and have some coffee. Are you hungry? I made Mamma’s vegetable soup for supper. We could heat some in the microwave,” Betty said.
“That sounds wonderful. This is Lindsey and this is my sister Betty.” Darla made introductions.
Betty was already bustling around in the kitchen. “Darla, you get the crackers and slice some cheese. There’s a lemon Bundt cake under the dome. I was hoping you would come so I made your favorite. Lindsey, darlin’, just sit down there at the table. We’ll have something to eat ready in no time.”
Darla Jean told the story, keeping it short.
“Well, darlin’,” Betty laid a soft hand on Lindsey’s shoulder, “you’ll be safe with me. And in a few weeks, if you want, you can move over next door in Mamma’s house. It’s been settin’ empty for years and I can’t bear to rent it out, but I’d just love to have a neighbor.”
Darla Jean hugged her sister again and whispered, “I’ll send money to help and come around to check on things every week.”
“You always have,” Betty whispered back.
* * *
Ethan could give a passionate speech that would bring tears, or he could incite an audience to chanting his name and waving tiny red, white, and blue flags. But going into that Dairy Queen to talk to Catherine about the prenuptial agreement was just downright aggravating. It shouldn’t be happening. She should have signed it the first day and not made such an ordeal about it. But he would take the thing home signed that evening. He could control a group of people with his words, so surely he could sweet-talk his fiancée into signing the papers. He even had the pen in his shirt pocket, ready to do the deed.
Hopefully when it was done, his mother would stop carrying on like someone had died. And Clayton would lose that horrible scowl.
She was waiting in the back booth in the nonsmoking section with the folder in front of her. He slid into the opposite side before he remembered that he should have kissed her first. It was too late to go back to the door and start over, so he laid a hand over hers and squeezed.
“Been waiting long, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Only a few minutes. I ordered coffee.” She pointed. “You want something?”
He shook his head, took the pen from his pocket, and laid it on the folder. “Please sign those papers so we can get on with our marriage plans. This is frustrating Clayton and worrying Mother. We need to get it settled, Catherine.”
She picked up the pen and handed it back to him. “Yes, we do.”
That was definitely not a good sign.
“Why won’t you sign it?”
“Because I’m not going to give up my part of Clawdy’s or my mother’s old Lumina. I like that car, and I like to work.”
“But both make me look bad,” he said. “I will buy you a new Caddy, and you can help Mother with all the charity work and fundraising. That will get some of the pressure off her and give you something to do.”
“Do you love me?” she asked right out of the blue.
He hesitated. “I asked you to marry me, didn’t I?”
“If you love me, you will throw this in the trash and trust me.” She tried to remember the last time he’d told her that he loved her. A frown worked its way across her brows but no memory came. She tried to remember the first time. Was it when he proposed? No, he’d said she made him happy, but he hadn’t said he loved her. Was he saving that for their honeymoon too? What if he didn’t say the words? She didn’t want to live her whole life hearing her husband tell her that he cared deeply for her or was fond of her. She wanted to hear the three magic words every single day of their lives.
“I can’t do that, Catherine,” Ethan said.
“It’s going in the trash, Ethan. Either you do it or I do.”
“Which means?”
“Well, look who’s out and about this hot, hot evening.” Anna Ruth slid into the booth beside Ethan. “I just ordered a big old hot fudge sundae to celebrate getting all my things out of Andy’s house. I’ve moved in with Aunt Annabel until I can find a place of my own. I’ve been thinking about finding an apartment in Sherman. It’s closer to Bells where I teach anyway. I’m ready for a change, to get away from small-town politics and into a big city.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to be in the club?” Catherine asked.
“Oh, no! Bells is still in Grayson County. I’d never move so far away I couldn’t be in the club.”
Ethan sucked air when Anna Ruth laid a hand on his thigh. He was there to sweet-talk Catherine, not get felt up by Anna Ruth, but if he said anything, there would be a big argument and the papers would not get signed. He couldn’t go home without them.
Anna Ruth’s hand moved up two inches. “So tell me, Ethan, where are you all planning to live once the election is over?”
“In our home, of course. When I win, I’ll be away a great deal of the time, but Catherine will live in our house with Mother.”
Anna Ruth looked over at Catherine and sighed. “You are so lucky.”
“Yes, I am.” Catherine smiled sweetly. But she didn’t feel lucky, not with her fiancé sitting beside another woman.
Anna Ruth blinked her big blue eyes until tears formed on the ends of her eyelashes, thick with layers upon layers of black mascara, and ran in muddy-looking streaks down her cheeks. “I wish I could be so lucky.”
Good grief, what was Ethan to do with a crying woman arousing him and an angry one close enough to scratch his eyes out?
Catherine jerked a paper napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table and handed it to Anna Ruth. “So you’ve moved out of the house? That was fast.”
“Oh, well, off with the old and on with the new.” She sniffled as she moved her hand up an inch more and squeezed Ethan’s thigh. “That’s the way I see it. I’m not letting him hold me back another minute. I was only living with him because I couldn’t have the one I truly loved.” Another squeeze.
Ethan slapped a hand over his mouth and coughed to cover the groan.
“Are you getting sick?” Catherine asked.
“No, just got a whiff of smoke from the smoker’s section.” He reached under the table and removed Anna Ruth’s hand.
When his phone rang, he grabbed it from his pocket and said, “Excuse me, ladies. It’s Clayton and we are discussing more yard signs tonight, so I’d better take it.”
Anna Ruth slipped out of
the booth first, but when he stepped a few feet away, she sat back down.
“Is it done?” Clayton asked bluntly.
Ethan smiled at Catherine. “Not yet, but we’re working on it.”
“Damn! Do I need to come down there?”
“I’m on my way right now. Be there in ten minutes.” He put the phone back in his pocket.
Anna Ruth was out of the booth instantly. “I’m going to see why my sundae isn’t here. I just bet that girl forgot all about me. She was flirting with her boyfriend at the window. I don’t blame her. If I had a chance to flirt with the man I was interested in, I’d take it no matter what.”
Ethan couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her waist nipped in above a well-rounded butt as she headed back to the counter. Anna Ruth had been flirting with him, there was no doubt about it, but he couldn’t think about that with his mother’s fretting, his campaign manager’s demands, and that damned folder.
Catherine tapped the folder. “So back to this.”
“I’m not trashing it,” he said. “I’ll talk to Clayton about your issues, and we’ll discuss them Saturday evening when you come to dinner.”
He started toward the door. Catherine did the same but sped up so she was a step ahead so he could see her shove the folder into the trash can with her coffee cup.
* * *
Courage to do the right thing was supposed to give her a big surge of self-confidence. It didn’t. Cathy’s hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel. It was over. She’d stood her ground and delivered what she promised. The folder with its contents would be covered with cold, greasy French fries, leftover last bites of hamburger or chicken nuggets, and empty packets of picante sauce for tacos. But had she just thrown out her future marriage with it?
She looked down at her engagement ring, sparkling in the last rays of the setting sun. Her phone rang and she answered without even looking, hoping it was Ethan telling her that he regretted not throwing the thing in the trash. That he was on his way home to tell both his mother and Clayton that they were buying the little house in Cadillac and she could work at the café as long as she liked.
“I can’t believe you did that right in front of the whole world,” Ethan said.
“I can’t believe you didn’t,” she said.
“I’ll have Clayton draft another one for you to sign Saturday night. I’ll make it plain that you can keep your mother’s car. There’s plenty of room to park it in the garage and you won’t be driving it all that much anyway,” he said.
“And working?” She held her breath.
“I’m not budging on that. Your sister…”
Cathy snapped the phone shut.
It rang again immediately but she didn’t answer. She drove through town to the house she’d imagined living in with Ethan and parked on the front curb under a big pecan tree. Her son was supposed to ride his tricycle up and down that sidewalk. She was supposed to sit on the porch and laugh at his antics after a long day at work she loved.
A car pulled up behind her and she looked up in the rearview mirror, hoping to see Ethan. But Jack Landry got out, lit a cigarette, and leaned against his back fender, staring at the place.
Cathy rolled down the window. “Hey, Jack, what are you doing here?”
He rounded the back of her car, put his cigarette out, braced his hands on the car door, and leaned down to talk to her. “Hey, yourself. I’m waiting on the real estate agent. I’m a little early but she should be here soon. Get out and come with me to check out the place.”
“You buyin’ it?” Cathy asked.
“Thinkin’ about it. Price is right and it’s time I get out of Mamma’s place before one of us shoots the other one. Never thought I’d live there as long as I have, but it worked, what with me working nights. But there’s a day shift open that I’m going to take and I need my own place. Why don’t you come on in with me and give me a woman’s point of view?”
“I’d be glad to,” she said.
They were sitting on the porch when the agent arrived with the keys. It was just like Cathy imagined. Small foyer, a living room to the left with a kitchen/dining area on past that, and a hallway with doors leading into a linen closet, a coat closet, a bathroom, and three bedrooms. The master bedroom had a big closet and a really nice master bathroom.
“So from a woman’s point of view, what do you think?” Jack asked.
“I would love to live here,” Cathy said.
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. It’s cozy, just the right size for a family. The backyard does need to be fenced. I’d put up a wood privacy fence and maybe later a deck. The trees are wonderful. They’d provide shade in the summertime,” she said.
“Okay, that settles it. Ten percent for escrow?” he asked the agent.
“That’s more than enough. We can have the papers ready to sign in a week. The owners are really ready to close a deal,” she said.
Jack wrote a check.
Cathy waited for him on the porch.
“You got a good deal, and it’s far past time for you to have your own place, but Beulah isn’t going to like it,” she said.
“I know, but it’s time I owned a house.” He chuckled. “Thanks for helping me out, Cathy.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for. When are you telling your mamma?” she asked.
“Guess it had better be soon. You want to do it for me?”
Cathy shook her head. “Not me. She’s going to pout and cry.”
“Think Marty will go talk to her?”
“No, but we could send Darla Jean. She could calm down a suicide bomber, I swear she could.”
“Well, then tell Darla Jean to bring her Bible and get ready to work some magic tomorrow morning.”
* * *
When Marty was worried, she cussed.
She started pacing the floor when Cathy left, and if cuss words could have peeled the flesh off Ethan’s bones, nothing but a skeleton would have left the Dairy Queen that night.
When Trixie was worried, she joked. Her attempts to stop Marty’s pacing and cussing failed. Marty didn’t even laugh at her “ain’t that nice” joke.
When Agnes was worried, she ate and gave advice. Within thirty minutes of the time Cathy left, both Marty and Trixie could have yanked all of Agnes’s curly red hair out of her scalp and glued her lips shut with superglue.
The back door opened. Trixie stopped in the middle of a joke. The swearing ceased. And Agnes looked up from an enormous wedge of banana nut cake.
And Darla Jean came into the house instead of Cathy.
“Well, shit!” Agnes forked a bite of cake into her mouth.
Marty resumed her pacing. “Dammit! Where is she? They said she left the Dairy Queen half an hour ago, and she isn’t answering her phone.”
“Maybe she’s driving out to the Prescott place to shoot Violet,” Trixie said.
“I take it that Cathy isn’t back yet?” Darla Jean said.
“Yes, I am.” She breezed into the kitchen, opened the cabinet door, and took out the Jack Daniels.
“Is Ethan alive?” Trixie asked.
Cathy poured two fingers in the glass. “Oh, yes, and so is Anna Ruth.”
Marty took the whiskey bottle from her and downed two big gulps straight from the bottle. “What in the hell has she got to do with this?”
“She was in the Dairy Queen.”
“And?”
Cathy told the rest of the story.
Agnes slapped the table hard enough to rattle the lid on the sugar bowl. “That hussy came in there on purpose. I bet that Violet was whining to Annabel about the pre-dump and she sent Anna Ruth there just to cause trouble.”
“Prenup, not pre-dump,” Cathy said
“I didn’t stutter. I can damn well hope it’s a pre-dump and you get rid of that man.
Marry Jack if you’ve got to have a man in your life. He’s buying the very house that you wanted to live in with Ethan.”
“Jack is my friend,” Cathy said. “And Ethan and I will work this out. It might take a couple of weeks. And how did you know about that house?”
“I know everything that goes on in Cadillac,” Agnes said.
“Where is that folder?” Marty asked. There were a couple of things Agnes didn’t know. If she did, she’d be in jail eating beans and bologna rather than banana nut cake.
“In the trash can at the Dairy Queen under a bunch of leftover food and soaked through with coffee and Coke,” Cathy said. “I told him he could throw it away or I would. Ethan loves me. He’ll forget about it.”
Darla Jean patted her hand. “He might love you, but his mamma isn’t going to let him marry you without your signature on those papers. You hold out for what you want, darlin’. And remember, whether you like it or not, you are marrying Violet as well as Ethan.”
“Run, Cathy! Run away and don’t ever look back,” Agnes raised her voice. “God sent Jesus in human form to save our souls, right, Darla Jean?”
“Basically,” Darla said.
“The devil sent Violet in human form to drag you down to hell by your ankles. Living in hell would be a picnic compared to living with her,” Agnes said.
“Sitting here, it doesn’t look as formidable as it did with Anna Ruth over there pressed up so close to him that they looked like Siamese twins.” Cathy tipped up the whiskey bottle and took a drink.
“Pray for her, Darla Jean. My poor little Cathy has done sold her soul to the bottle.” Agnes shook her head and shoved more cake in her mouth.
“I’ve been telling you a little shot of Jack will put a new perspective on the whole world,” Trixie said. “Whiskey has kept me from killing Andy.”
Cathy held up the glass. “To new perspectives. Now, can we talk about something else? Jack is buying a house, and Darla Jean, you’ve got to go talk to Beulah tomorrow and make her understand it’s time for him to have his own place. Take your Bible and quote all kinds of scripture to comfort her.”
“For real?” Trixie asked.
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