Finding Bluefield (4 page)

“What was I thinking? If I had known that, I would have slept with him and made him marry me and then I would be the wife of the top salesman. What more could a girl wish for?”

“You have to be more open-minded, Nicky.”

“I am very open-minded,” Nicky said.

Carol-Ann placed her cut vegetables in the stuffing pot and stirred. “Can you please give people a chance? You can’t wait forever to settle down and have kids or it might not happen. I mean, you’re gorgeous, but you’re not getting any younger.”

“No one is,” Nicky said.

“What?” Carol-Ann asked.

“No one is getting younger. Anyway, just because I might want to settle down doesn’t mean I want to settle.”

“You’re too clever,” Carol-Ann said. “But I know how much you love babies. You really might have to settle, Nicky.”

“Carol-Ann,” Nicky said. She stopped slicing apples for the pies and put down her knife. It was hard for her to keep from looking over at Barbara. It was even harder to not tell her sister that she had indeed found someone. “Don’t worry about me. If you want to worry, worry about getting supper ready. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” Nicky went back to cutting apples.

Carol-Ann continued to stare at Nicky. “You’re not telling me something. I’m sure of it. I always know when you’re keeping a secret from me.” She walked over to Nicky and put her arm around her. “You’re keeping something from me and it’s killing you. C’mon, Nicky, tell me everything.”

“Where do these go?” Barbara interrupted, holding up the cast-iron pan.

Carol-Ann turned to Barbara. “You must know who Nicky is dating.”

Nicky laughed.

“What is so funny, Nicky?” Carol-Ann asked.

“You are. Listen to yourself. It’s like you have nothing else to talk about. Like you’re trying to solve a crime.”

Carol-Ann returned to her prep work. “Well, it would be a crime if you didn’t get married and have children. Besides, I worry about you and I worry about what would happen to you if Daddy, you know, when Daddy gets older.”

Nicky rolled out the dough to cover the apple pies. “Really, Carol-Ann, that’s your big worry? I can take care of myself. I’m the one who has a job, remember? Not you.”

“Nicky, you’re all I have.”

“You have your family.”

“But only one sister.” Carol-Ann poured brown sugar on the yams.

“Can we change the subject? Tell me about your new house. How are you going to decorate it?”

“Barbara,” she said, “we’ve been ignoring you. Do you have a man in your life?”

“I am too busy at the hospital. Residents don’t have a lot of free time.”

“No one should be that busy.”

“Can we cook now?” Nicky said.

*

After the turkey was removed from the oven, the pies left to cool, the table set, the pots and pans washed, and the football game turned off, everyone found their place at the table. Paul cleared his throat and rose from his seat. He raised his glass of beer, looked at his family gathered around him, and began to speak. “I’m inspired by this fine gathering, by the news of another grandchild, to make a toast,” he said.

“The children are awfully hungry, Daddy,” Carol-Ann said.

“Go on, Daddy,” Nicky said. “We don’t gather very often anymore.”

“I not hungry, Grandpa,” Claire added.

“Play nice, girls,” Paul said to his daughters. He then turned his attention back to the table. “I am a fortunate man, a lucky man. I’ll say that to anybody. I have spent my life laboring over twelve inches of topsoil, and it’s been good to me. Every year I hope, I pray, and I bargain as I wait for my crop to come in. I am dependent on the weather and I need to be lucky. Lucky to have the right mix of rain and sun. Lucky to avoid insects, drought, and flood. And banks. Very lucky to avoid banks. Nothing else matters. Nothing else can happen if mankind doesn’t have those twelve inches of dirt and the right amount of rain and wind and sun. So I raise a toast to my grandchild on the way, and hope that this one’s a boy. If he is, I’ll teach him to farm.”

After all the glasses were lowered, Carol-Ann handed Richard a carving knife and fork. “Why don’t you carve the turkey, honey?”

The Stewarts’ hospitality permitted them to make small talk but not to ask Barbara too many personal, prying questions over dinner. Besides, they were too busy talking among themselves. After dinner, the women cleared the table. Barbara went straight for the sink and began to wash the dinner plates.

“I think that Daddy should sell the farm and come live with us,” Carol-Ann said, cleaning off the turkey. “It’s one of the reasons we bought such a large house.”

“Did you miss his toast?” Nicky said, covering leftovers.

“It’s a good time to sell. Richard looked into it and the market is high. Daddy’d make a lot of money. He’d be a free man.”

“He’d shrivel up and die if you take him from his land. What do you think he’d do in California?” Nicky said. “Not like he plays golf. Or surfs. He needs his land; he needs his people.”

“Daddy’s getting older and I worry about losing him. I remember losing Mom. You don’t,” Carol-Ann said.

“You love to remind me of that. It’s like you think you’re pulling rank on me,” Nicky said. “At least you got to know her. That’s why you can remember losing her.”

“I want my children to know their grandfather.”

“Then move back to Virginia,” Nicky said.

“Richard’s job is there or I would.”

“Really?” Nicky asked. “You would?”

“What if Nicky wanted to take over the farm?” Barbara asked, regretting at once that she had entered the conversation.

“Is this something new?” Carol-Ann said to Nicky. “You never wanted the farm before. Did you tell Daddy? Because that would be great and then he could travel and know that the farm was being taken care of.”

“I mentioned to him that I was thinking about it,” she said to Carol-Ann.

“I’m glad you might want this place,” Carol-Ann said, “but you can’t live here alone.” She passed Nicky a dish.

“Sure I can,” Nicky said. “But I won’t have to be alone.”

“I knew it. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I mean I can always rent out a room.”

“Don’t be such a tease. Who is he and how long and how serious? Tell me everything. Is he a farmer?”

“No.”

“He’s not married?” Carol-Ann said.

“You’ve been a suburban California housewife too long.” Nicky laughed. “You’re missing the point.”

“What is the point?”

“This is Bluefield. We’re from here. This is my community; I’m never alone.”

“You know, Nicky,” Barbara broke in, “it’s getting late and I need to get back.” Barbara was calculating the walk back to town and wishing she had worn sneakers. Twelve miles would be a long walk, but leaving right now would be worth it. “ Really, Nicky, I can’t be late for my shift. We should go.”

Carol-Ann looked at Barbara and then Nicky and then back at Barbara. “It’s you?” she said. “Isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?” Barbara turned to Nicky.

Carol-Ann turned back to Nicky. “I thought you gave that stuff up after Mary Beth moved.”

“I thought so too, but it just happened that way,” Nicky said.

“Things like that don’t just happen.”

“They do if you’re lucky,” Nicky said. “And it was my idea, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What are your plans?” Carol-Ann asked Nicky.

“Plans?” Nicky laughed. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you realize that when Barbara finishes her residency, she’ll leave? She’ll move some place where people don’t know her and get a good job and even a husband if she wants. Where does that leave you? Once this gets around, you’ll never get a husband around here.”

“You both realize that I’m right here?” Barbara said. She was trying to remain calm, but it wasn’t working. During medical school, Barbara had given up on love. Not for lack of desire, but lack of options. She wanted to be with a woman and she wanted to be a doctor. She spent time at some of the women’s bars on New York’s West Side. She let women take her home, but never gave them a phone number or address, fearing that if they showed up at her work, she could lose her scholarship. She made a choice to go it alone till she had her medical license. But then Nicky and her sparkling green eyes and all her charm and zeal showed up and made her take chances she had not planned to take. And she liked having a plan.

“I’m not looking for a husband,” Nicky said. “So there’s no problem.”

“It’s your life,” Carol-Ann said.

“You finally got something right.”

“I guess that explains why you didn’t like any of those guys we set you up with.” Carol-Ann rinsed the silverware.

“No. I didn’t like them because they were assholes.”

“Did you tell Daddy?”

“Why would I tell him?” Nicky said.

“It would kill him,” Carol-Ann said. She looked directly at Barbara. “I’m happy for you if this is really what you want. I just think you need to know what you’re getting into. Bluefield is a small town, and once word gets around it spreads like fleas on a dog.”

“How would it get around?” Nicky said.

“C’mon, Nicky. Everything gets around.”

*

Barbara shut the car door and let out a deep sigh. “Why’d you do that?”

Nicky started the engine. “I didn’t plan on it. It just came out. I really wanted her to know about us. And you defended my honor in there. You stood up for me. That was sweet. I can’t wait to get you home.”

“This is not good. If this gets around, it will sabotage my residency and I’ll have to leave.”

Nicky pulled the Chevy onto the road and headed back to town. “Carol-Ann’s not going to tell anyone. It would reflect poorly on her and Richard, and she wouldn’t want that.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Besides, you said everyone at the hospital already thinks you’re a dyke.”

“But that’s just rumor,” Barbara said.

“So what’s the difference? The worst that could happen is that they’ll think you’re a dyke.”

“It’s different when they’re sure,” Barbara said. “How the hell did your sister guess?”

“Weird, isn’t it? It’s like she has some special sense that can tell when people have had sex. She was like that in high school. If Richard ever cheated on her, she would know right away.”

“So you knew she would know?”

“No. I honestly didn’t think her powers worked on lesbians.”

“One more thing,” Barbara said as Nicky shifted the car into high gear. “Who’s Mary Beth?”

1963

The lunch rush left and Nicky grabbed her newspaper and a cup of coffee and took them both over to the sinks. She hopped up on one of the counters and offered Leroy a cigarette. He stopped washing the pots and took one. She lit her cigarette and passed Leroy the matches.

“Have you seen
To Kill a Mockingbird
over at the Squire?” she asked Leroy.

“Haven’t.”

“You should. It’s probably the best movie I’ve ever seen. I might see it again. It makes the South look bad. But it also makes us look good. That’s what I liked.”

“I haven’t seen it,” Leroy said.

Nicky put down her coffee and picked up her newspaper. She started flipping through the papers.

“You see this?” Nicky said, showing the paper to Leroy. “A million people are expected for Dr. King’s march in DC?”

Leroy took the paper from Nicky. “That’s a lot of people.”

Nicky retied her hair. “You know Stella’s boyfriend Tommy? The one who’s a cop?” She took the paper back from Leroy.

“Sure.” He started back in on the pots.

“Well, he told Lucinda that one of the black churches is organizing buses. Mixed buses. Who would have thought people from Bluefield would want to go? Are you going?”

“No.”

“You should.” Nicky inhaled her cigarette and slowly released the smoke.

“Are you?” Leroy asked.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but I’m thinking it’s a chance to see Dr. King in person. That guy might be president some day.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? We elected a Catholic.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know. I’m just saying no one thought that was possible.” Nicky slid off the counter. “Anyway, you know which church is organizing the buses?”

“No,” Leroy said softly, looking around the kitchen. “Maybe Stella knows.”

“That’s funny. Real funny.” Nicky retied her apron. “Let me know if you hear anything.” Nicky returned to her area and got back to filling orders.

That afternoon on her way out the door, when she put her hand in the pocket of her jean jacket, she found a flyer along with her car keys. She read it quickly and shoved it back into her jacket. She opened the kitchen doors and stepped into the restaurant where the waitresses were filling ketchup bottles, sugar dispensers, and salt and pepper shakers while the radio blared. Nicky flipped through the phone book near the restrooms.