Sister's Choice (19 page)

“Don’t all guys keep score?”

“What, you think there’s a smoky room hidden in the back of some bar in Woodstock where bookies are taking bets and laying odds?”

“Pretty much.”

He laughed as he pulled up in front of Grace’s house. “Come on. There’s a sky full of stars and the most comfortable porch swing you’ll ever sit in over there. You’ve set up the ground rules, and I’ll be a good sport. But I’ve been looking forward to this part all night long.”

“What part is that?”

“Where we don’t have to watch Orel leer at you or listen to old Pete Sutter’s jokes about his mother-in-law’s pet pig. Just you, me, the moon and my arm around you.”

That sounded good. In fact, it sounded spectacular. She wasn’t ready for a final good-night. Maybe the dinner and dance hadn’t been a remarkable venue for a date. Maybe she would rather have gone to some quiet little restaurant where they could be alone and cover her life story somewhere other than in his mother’s Honda. Or maybe they could have taken a walk on some mountain ridge, where they could watch the sun sinking in a blaze of glory, or the moon rising in a Shenandoah sky.

But none of that really mattered. They’d had fun together. Cash was easy to be with, smart, clever, entertaining and just distant enough to make her comfortable. He knew everything he needed to know—except that she was worth more money than anyone had a right to be—and he seemed comfortable enough with her past and even her foggy view of the future.

He came around and helped her out of the car, as old-fashioned a gesture as the orchid corsage. She let him, since it was that kind of night. She had missed out on proms and homecoming dances, substituting nights of rummaging in Dumpsters and scoring bad dope on street corners. Now she reveled in the simplicity, the ritual, the man himself.

Up on the porch, he fell into the swing and pulled her down beside him, positioning her so that she was resting against his chest.

“So here’s what I want to know,” he said, once she was settled against him, his arm around her, his hand resting casually on her belly where the twins slept away. “Did you give me more than a passing thought in the months since I saw you last?”

She leaned back against him, enjoying the intimacy. “That was two years ago. You’re asking if at any time in those two years I thought about you once or twice?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s been a busy couple of years.”

“Meaning no.”

“Afraid I can’t say no. I liked you right off the bat. I thought maybe if I’d had more time here, things could have developed between us. So every once in a while, there you were in my mind. How about you?”

“Well, you kind of spoil a man.”

She thought that was one of the nicest things any man had ever said to her. “I like being the standard you hold other women to.”

“I didn’t think you’d be back. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, funny. I didn’t expect to be sitting on my sister’s nest here in the Valley, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know where this is going. You’ve got the babies, then a life somewhere else. I have baggage I drag around.”

“Karen. You still miss her, don’t you?”

“You want the truth?”

“Let’s make a point of it.”

“I hardly remember the Karen who wasn’t sick. I know I loved her, that I expected us to grow old together. But we never even started down that path. It’s like I knew one percent of the woman she was, and nothing of the woman she would have been.”

“I’m sorry. Life can be rotten.”

“What I’m left with is memories of sickrooms, and decisions about what to do and how to do it, and a woman who wasn’t old enough or well enough to know what to do for herself. So I had to make decisions for her, then watch the consequences. And that’s baggage I’ll be dragging into eternity.”

“And you feel bad that those are the only memories you have.”

“She deserves better.”

She turned. She wanted to see his face in the lamplight shining through the living room window. “She was lucky to have you, Cash. I’m sure she knew it. I’m sure she was grateful you were right there helping her through it all. She probably had days when she was sure
she
didn’t deserve
you
.”

“Sometimes I wonder, if I’d known what we had in store for us, I’d just have turned tail and run.”

She touched his cheek. “Maybe that’s why so few of us have the gift for seeing into the future. So we aren’t tested that way. I’m afraid a lot of us would turn tail and run if we knew what was in store.”

“You believe some people can see the future?”

She smiled. “I can see into yours. The hard times are over. You’ll have a long life, filled with happiness and good things and people who love you again.”

“And where do you see all that taking place?”

“Right here, on this land.”

“Granny Grace put you up to that?”

She saw no alternative. She raised her head a little and kissed him. His arms tightened around her. She lay across him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her arms draped over his shoulders. The position couldn’t have been more awkward, and yet it felt completely natural, as if they had always relaxed in each other’s arms just this way.

The kiss deepened, and he ran his hands over her bare skin, tasted her lips at one angle, then another. She felt her hair cascading over her shoulders as he removed the pins a few at a time, and still he kissed her.

He was the first to move away, to position her so she was no longer so firmly against him, to brush her hair back from her face, and finally to set her away from him.

“Well,” he said.

“I suppose that’s been coming.”

“We fell into it pretty naturally, wouldn’t you say?”

“I should probably go inside.”

“You probably should.”

She smiled at him. He kissed her again.

Sometime later, she pushed herself off the swing and stood. “I really ought to go inside now.”

“I’m thinking that’s a good idea.” He stood and put his arms around her, pulling her close for a moment. “When I’m gone and you’re upstairs, open your window and look out at the stars. Every star in the universe clusters over this orchard. You’ll never see so many in one place again.”

“Will you be looking at them, too?”

“That’s what I do every blessed night.”

She took his hand and rubbed the back of it against her cheek. Then she kissed it. “See you soon.”

“Yeah. I’ll look forward to it.”

He turned and started toward the sedan. She watched him go; then she went into the house, locking the door behind her, in case Grace cared about such things out here.

Upstairs, she watched her daughters sleeping on the double bed in the room Grace had given them; then she undressed silently and pulled on an oversize T-shirt she’d brought to sleep in. Back from the bathroom, she stood at the hallway window and looked out over the orchard. She was still standing there sometime later when Grace’s door creaked open and she came out to join her.

“Not ready to sleep?”

“Not quite. Why are you awake?”

“You don’t sleep much or well at my age. Remember that, so when it happens to you, you’ll think of me.”

Jamie laughed softly. “Things go okay here?”

“The girls wore me out. Poor Lucky will be glad to find a herd in the days ahead and abandon us all.”

“I’m sorry. But you sound happy.”

“We had a wonderful time. I miss my great-grandchildren. I need to go see them soon.” Grace rested her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I used to stand right there and look out at the land, and wonder what I was doing in this place. Eventually, of course, I knew what I was doing here, but by then I had other questions.”

Jamie wasn’t ready to sleep. “Why don’t you tell me some more, if you’re up to it? I want to know the rest. Do you feel like a cup of tea? I’ll make it, if you tell me where to find everything.”

“You’re sure? You’re up to it after a long evening?”

“It will help me relax.” She put her arm around Grace. “It might even help you.”

“It’s nice to have you here, Jamie dear. Very nice indeed.”

Jamie couldn’t think of anyplace she’d rather be.

1941

G
race had always dreamed of a June wedding in her family’s church. She’d imagined magnolias and peonies scenting the air, her arms filled with irises and pink roses. She would wear a simple long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, and cover her hair with a veil of ribbon-embroidered net. The groom would wear a dark suit and an expression of adoration. Her many friends would crowd both sides of the aisle to issue good wishes to the happy couple.

She had not expected to be married by a justice of the peace between Ben’s tractor trips down orchard rows. June on a Virginia farm was ruled by wild garlic and thistle; every renegade weed stole the vigor from promising apple trees. In Ben’s mind, their eradication was only slightly less important than the wedding vows that would reunite him with his sons.

“My long-awaited wedding day,” Grace told her mother, who looked at least a decade older than her sixty years, stooped and sallow and shrinking. “I almost wish it was raining.”

“Well, you knew there weren’t gonna be nothing romantic about this,” Mina Fedley said.

Grace had to agree. The past six months had been hard for everybody. Although Grace was not close to her family, she had been gratified by the way they tried to pull together after Anna’s death. While her father went back to their farm and tried to find a way to hang on to the property for a few more months, Mina stayed on at the orchard to care for Charlie and tiny Adam, who, despite all odds, had survived and was now a passably healthy baby cutting his first tooth.

Mina was not able to manage the workload, of course. The damp old farmhouse, the premature newborn, the grieving toddler, the widower whose life was in ruins…Only days after Anna’s death, she moved the children back home, hoping familiar surroundings might help her manage the boys. The family farm was close enough that Ben could see his sons when he had time and inclination. But even at home, the workload had been too heavy. There was no money for domestic help, and all the daughters-in-law had children and responsibilities of their own. Little Adam had to be fed hourly, and Charlie was inconsolable, having effectively lost both parents. There were animals to tend and household chores to manage. Not surprisingly, Mina quickly developed a hacking cough that threatened to infect the infant who was struggling for his life.

When she wasn’t at work, Grace had done what she could, but in a matter of days, with no other choice, she quit her job at the factory. Only two weeks after her sister’s death, she took over full care of her nephews. Now she was about to marry their father.

“I’m not interested in romance with Ben Cashel,” Grace told her mother. “I’m marrying him because I made a promise.”

“Didn’t spur you on none. Not at first.”

Grace fell to the bed. She was dressing for the ceremony in one of the farmhouse bedrooms, one that was slightly less gloomy than the others only because she had asked that Ben wash the windows and peel off the paper. This would be the bedroom that replaced the one where Anna had died. She knew she would never be able to sleep in that room or Anna would be sure to haunt her forever.

Grace gazed at her fingernails and shook her head sadly. As a spinner at the rayon plant, she had been required to keep her hands soft, her nails carefully manicured. Any nick, any hangnail, could snag the fibers. She had been so proud. Now her nails were cut to the quick, and her fingers were callused and rough. Of course, her nails were the least of the changes she’d made.

“I put my hand on that Bible, and I lied.” She looked up at her mother. “I wanted Anna to die in peace. I thought we’d find another way to work things out.”

“Maybe the good Lord is just making sure you do what you swore to. Better than burning in hell.”

“If Hell’s full of people with good intentions, then that’s exactly where I want to be. In good company.”

Mina slipped over to the window, as slight as a shadow. She couldn’t eat when she was unhappy, and lately she’d taken to eating nothing but corn bread dipped in coffee. Grace was afraid that before too many months passed, her mother would follow her sister to the grave.

“No matter what was said, if there was another way, I’d be in favor.” Mina looked down at the sunlit garden below, a garden choked with the very weeds Ben was trying to eradicate in the orchard. Anna had thought flowers were frivolous, and she had ignored the yard so joyfully tended by Ben’s late mother. At one time, the air here had been scented by cinnamon roses and the clovelike fragrance of pinks. Grace remembered them from Anna’s wedding day, a day that had been as sunny as this one.

“I’d be in favor, too,” Grace said. “But how else can we keep the boys with their daddy?”

“Mebbe Ben should just have sold off what he had to. Stayed here, tended a few trees and worked in town.”

“Doing what? And how, with the boys needing full-time care for years to come? Who would come up here to do it? Nobody willing to was reliable.”

Mina turned. “You might as well tell the truth as a lie, girl. You don’t want anybody else caring for those young ’uns. You love that baby boy now like he was your own. And little Charlie’s got you wrapped around his finger. You came up here to marry their daddy just because of them and nothing else. You think I’m so beat down I can’t see?”

Grace didn’t know if that was true. Had she been able to find somebody willing to move up to the orchard—an older matron with stamina and patience who was able to survive on the pittance Ben could afford to pay—would she have been willing to leave the boys in another woman’s hands? She thought so. She was almost sure of it. But that woman didn’t exist. With her parents unable to make a living on the family farm, the bank nipping at their heels, and Ben increasingly pulled between his sons and his apple trees, the only solution had been clear.

Anna, of course, had seen all this on that night in January when she had demanded that, for once, Grace do her duty.

“I almost left.” Grace got up again and began to unbutton the calico dress she had donned that morning. She looked up when her mother didn’t say anything. “I was going to run away, take my last chance to see the world and let the rest of you work out a different way to deal with all this. Did you know?”

“I figured you might be thinking that way. But I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

“How? How did you know I wouldn’t?”

“’Cause your sister was always wrong about you. What she saw as sassy and silly was just high spirits. I knew as much and told her so.
I
knew you were nothing but good inside, even if I never much got around to telling you.”

Grace was stunned. “You never much got around to telling me anything, Mama.”

Mina shrugged, as if to say that was true and there was not a lot she could have done about it. “I never had it in me to be much of a mother. You’re like your grandma, though. You never knew her. But she was just like you. Pretty, smart, and always looking for a way to make life twice as much fun. Always taking care of things, making them grow. It was like she came back to us when you was born. That’s why I named you Grace. It was grace that sent you when your papa and me were all done and all tuckered out. And you were so easy, I could just sit back and watch you grow and not worry overmuch.” She paused. “Anna, now, she never did see that.”

“I’ll say.” Grace was moved by her mother’s words. They were the kindest Mina had ever spoken to her, and this was certainly the longest speech Mina had ever given in her presence.

“I just want you to know, what you’re doing today, it’s a good thing.”

Grace wanted to hug her mother in thanks, but Mina would be embarrassed if she tried. In fact, Mina had gone back to staring out the window, and Grace didn’t want to spoil the moment with either a hug or the truth.

Maybe marrying Ben was a good thing, but right now she was tempted again to make a run for it. She wasn’t at all sure she could go through with this wedding.

“Mr. Foxhall’s coming.” Mina pointed out the window. “Driving that old Dodge of his. Can’t blame you for not getting the preacher instead. Seems wrong to make a fuss so soon after Anna passed. Better to just get things done and over with.”

“Mama, I’m going to finish changing now. Will you go and see how Charlie and Adam are faring?”

“I’m gonna find me some flowers to pick. You deserve some flowers, if nothing else.”

“If you happen to see Ben, would you ask him to take a few minutes to marry me? Before he starts on the next row?”

Mina was silent for a moment, her lips tightly drawn. Then, as if she had dug up one more thing to say from a lifetime’s unspoken store, she nodded.

“You listen to me, Grace. I know what you think of Ben Cashel. You think you know who he is. But there’s two kinds of men in the world. Some are like a piece of glass. There’s nothing to them but you can’t see it. Everything’s right there, and half the time there’s not much scenery worth looking at. Then there’s the other kind, like Ben. Ben’s like a room with all the curtains drawn. You don’t know what you’re getting into when you walk through that door, but sometimes the best things are waiting—things you never dreamed of.”

“Mama, Ben’s marrying me because it’s the only thing he knows to do. He’s glad I’m willing, maybe even the teeniest bit grateful—though he’d never take the time to say so. But Ben knows if I’m willing, it’s because of those boys and because I’m afraid Anna will find a way to make my life miserable from the great beyond.”

“You don’t believe that. Not for a minute. You can make a life here, Grace. A life for those boys, mebbe even a life for you and Ben, if you just put your mind to it.”

“It might not be forever, Mama. I’m warning you. I’m not thinking about forever. Even Anna said I could move on soon as the boys were old enough not to need me.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll bring the Lord’s wrath on this family. You take those vows and mean them.”

Grace turned her hands palms up and let her mother interpret that as she would.

Mina left, and Grace pondered her mother’s parting words. She couldn’t tell Mina that the only way she could stand in front of the justice of the peace today was if she was certain there was freedom at the end of this prison sentence. She had no idea if Ben knew that—or cared. They had engaged in very little conversation since Anna had died.

She heard a car door close and, in a little while, birdsong where there had only been the whine of a tractor’s engine. Ben was probably on his way up to the house to change for the ceremony. It was time she got ready, too.

The dress she donned was nothing like the one she had imagined for herself; still, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, either. Her brothers’ wives had gone together and bought the fabric. She knew it was their way of thanking her for this sacrifice. Had she not been willing to marry Ben, most likely the boys would have been sent from one of Grace’s brothers to the other, adding a burden at a time when even the smallest trial could sink a family. Their wives were grateful.

The fabric was cream-colored rayon sprinkled with tiny sprays of pink roses tied with cornflower-blue ribbons. She had treated herself to a pattern from the money she’d saved for her escape from the Valley, and made a dress with a keyhole neckline and batwing sleeves. It was stylish and feminine, but she doubted Ben would notice. Not that his attention mattered. She had made it for herself, not for him.

Once the dress was on, she fiddled with her hair. She had set it in pincurls last night and this morning, she had parted it on the side, combed the waves back into a loose pageboy and rolled the sides away from her face, covering the bobby pins with careful curls. Now she adorned the curls with the small white rosebuds she had plucked from her mother’s sad little rose bed that morning.

She stood back from the oval mirror and viewed herself. Then she moved closer, reapplied her lipstick and powdered her nose. She looked fresh-faced and youthful, and, if she did say so herself, pretty enough to entice any man. Any man except Ben, of course. Her smile faltered, and for a moment, she was tempted yet again to leave. What kind of woman married the only man in the world who clearly disliked her?

Someone knocked on the door, and Sylvie, her brother Ethan’s wife, appeared. She was chubby, with natural dark curls she usually tied back in a kerchief. But today they were combed into a semblance of order, and she was wearing her best print dress.

“You look pretty.” Sylvie smiled, although clearly her heart wasn’t in it. She knew, as did everyone else, that this wedding was for show. “Charlie and Adam are napping. I got them both to sleep, and my Lulie’s going to watch them ’til everything’s finished. That little Adam has grown like a weed. You’ve done a good thing taking care of him. We all thought he’d be in the ground next to his ma by now.”

“I guess it wasn’t his time.”

Grace had made certain of that with round-the-clock feedings. With hot water bottles and quilts and little wool caps. With hours spent with Adam tucked in her arms against her chest so he wouldn’t cry and tire himself.

Now, picturing baby Adam asleep with his favorite quilt, she knew she wasn’t going to run. Not when the baby smiled every time he caught sight of her. Not when he held up his arms so she would pick him up whenever she came near. Not when his brother was finally beginning to laugh like a normal little boy.

She had to go through with the wedding.

“I guess everything’s all ready.” Grace straightened her hem and the seam of one stocking. “I guess we’d better just do it.”

Sylvie cleared her throat. “I bet Ben won’t bother you tonight, Grace. Not for a while. He’s not a man who would push a woman. You’ll have some time to get used to this.”

Grace glanced at Sylvie, whose cheeks were flaming. The words had been delivered in a rush. Grace wondered if Sylvie had been appointed by the other women to speak frankly. She had certainly thought about what might happen tonight. She’d been raised on a farm and was well aware what a man and woman did together. She’d managed some of the preliminaries after parties and dances, and hadn’t found them half-bad. But doing them with Ben? She suppressed a shudder.