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Authors: Katherine Allred

BOOK: The Sweet Gum Tree
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It was the first time we’d really kissed since that day in the cellar, but Nick had been a boy then. Now he was, at least physically, a man. And he was hungry. There was no hesitation when he returned the kiss, and it washed every other thought out of my head. I felt like I was being devoured. Heat like I’d never known slammed into me and I wanted to melt into him and never come out again.

But while Nick’s body tensed and his hands moved over me restlessly, a tiny fear grew in my mind. I wanted him, but I knew it was going to hurt the first time. And that fear was all tied up with the small town morality I’d grown up with. Good girls didn’t, not until they had a ring on their finger. Bad girls did, and they always paid for their mistakes.

“Nick…”

His hands went still on my back and he lifted his head to look at me. A shudder ran over him and he closed his eyes, dropping his forehead to mine. “I know.” His voice was husky. “Just give me a second.” His arms tightened around me and I rested my head on his chest.

“I love you.”

I could hear the wry smile in his words when he answered. “Now is not the best time in the world to tell me that.”

“I know.”

We were silent for a few minutes as he got himself under control.

“Nick? Have you ever…”

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The Sweet Gum Tree

“No.” He lifted his head again, studied me. “I’ve thought about it, but it never seemed right.”

The idea of him making love to anyone else sent a shaft of pain straight through my middle. “You better wait on me, damn it.”

“I don’t think I have much choice.” He brushed my hair back. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Alix, the only one I’ll ever want. That’s a promise.” He smiled. “But I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.” I nodded. “Maybe we could…practice sometimes?” Okay, so I liked the way he’d made me feel and wanted more of it.

His chuckle was low and deep. “God, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you? Now, turn around and I’ll put the necklace on for you.” When he’d fastened it, I picked it up and slid it under my shirt, swearing never to take it off. And for the next year we did “practice” occasionally, but Nick was always very careful to keep things on an even keel. It was one of the happiest years of my life.

Looking back, I wonder why we were so secretive about our relationship. We never let on how we felt about each other in front of others, almost as though we’d made a pact. I think Aunt Jane knew. A few times when Nick was eating dinner with us I’d catch her looking from him to me, a sadness in her gaze that sent chills over my skin.

I’d been catching a lot of grief from Mama and Aunt Darla after my seventeenth birthday because I didn’t appear interested in dating.

“It’s just not natural for a girl your age to ignore boys,” Aunt Darla declared.

The whole family, Nick included, was sitting on the front porch that evening, and of course, everyone had an opinion.

“I don’t ignore them,” I told her. “I just don’t date them.”

“Sweetheart, surely there’s someone you like?” Mama said. “What about Hugh?

Helena told me he’s asked you to the movies.”

“I didn’t like what was playing.” I glanced at Nick and rolled my eyes. He gave me a brooding look in return.

“Leave her alone, Ellie.” The Judge spoke in my defense. “You should be thankful the girl’s got too much sense to be boy crazy.”

“She’s only seventeen,” Aunt Jane added. “She has plenty of time.” Later, I got Nick’s input on the subject.

“Maybe they’re right,” he told me. That brooding expression was still on his face.

“Maybe you should be dating.”

My mouth dropped open. “You actually want me to date other guys?” He sighed. “No. I’d probably go nuts if you did. But it might be better for you.” He hesitated. “Alix, I’m always going to be Frank Anderson’s kid. The only future I’ve got is working at Hawkins’ garage. You deserve better than that. Somebody like Hugh could give you a good life.”

55

Katherine Allred

“I don’t love Hugh,” I said, hurt that he’d even suggest such a thing. “And I wish everyone would find something else to occupy their time and stop nagging me.”
Be careful what you wish for
might be clichéd, but there’s usually a reason why those old sayings have lasted so long. The next day, my father came home.

* * * * *

“Are you going to the garden?” I watched as Mama gathered a knife and a large tin wash pan.

“Yes. The snap beans need picking, and so do the cucumbers and tomatoes. And I want to check the corn. It was almost ready a few days ago.”

“I’ll go with you.” I tossed aside the magazine I’d been thumbing through and got another knife. The garden was one of my favorite places on earth. The feel of the soft, moist dirt under my bare feet and the scent of growing plants was something I looked forward to every year. Almost as much as I looked forward to the first taste of a ripe, red tomato, warm from the sun, the juice dribbling down my chin as I sank my teeth through the tender skin.

When the garden was producing, it was rare for anyone to go grocery shopping.

About once a month someone would go for the staples—flour, sugar, coffee, and tea—

things we couldn’t grow ourselves. Our meals were typically southern and no one ever worried about cholesterol or antioxidants. Even meat was no problem because the Judge paid to a have a calf and a pig slaughtered every year, and the white-wrapped packages with red stamps proclaiming the contents filled one entire freezer.

A typical supper for us consisted of meat, usually fried, cornbread, fried or mashed potatoes, green beans, sliced ripe tomatoes, green onions, and cucumbers in vinegar, salted and peppered. If you’d offered anyone in my family tofu, they wouldn’t have had a clue what you were talking about, and wouldn’t have eaten it if they had. To them, we ate healthy. It was the junk and fast food that could kill you.

The garden was an acre plot behind the barn, and I was dreaming about fresh corn-on-the-cob for supper that evening as I followed Mama down the back steps. We both paused as a shiny black car pulled into the drive.

“Who in the world…” Mama muttered, one hand cupped above her eyes to block the sun’s glare.

The car wasn’t familiar to me either, so I figured it was probably a salesman or the Jehovah’s Witnesses. We get a lot of both around here. Most folks simply sent the Witnesses on their way or didn’t answer the door at all, but heaven help them if Aunt Darla was around. She’d usher the Witnesses right into the living room, pour them a glass of tea, and set about converting them to the Southern Baptist faith. I’ve known her to keep the poor victims hostage for up to three hours at a whack while she quoted 56

The Sweet Gum Tree

verse and scripture faster than they could come up with answers. She said it was her Christian duty to show them the error of their ways.

But the man climbing out of the car didn’t look like a salesman or a Witness, in spite of being well dressed. He wasn’t carrying a briefcase or a handful of pamphlets. He was tall and slim, with dark hair that curled gently around his nape, and warm, dark brown eyes that smiled hesitantly as he walked toward us.

The first indication I had that all was not well was the sound of Mama’s tin pan hitting the gravel of the driveway. It was so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her face white as new cotton on the boll.

“Mama?” This wasn’t like her at all, and I was suddenly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Go in the house, Alix.”

“No. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Please,” she whispered.

By then he’d reached us, and when he spoke, his voice held both apology and determination. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Ellie, but you haven’t left me much choice. She’s seventeen. It’s time you let her make up her own mind.” Mama stepped in front of me, her back tense. “She’s too young. Now get out of here before I call the police.”

“You can call them if it will make you feel better, but I’m not leaving until I have a chance to talk to Alix.” His gaze fastened on me over Mama’s shoulder.

I was on the verge of panic. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew Mama felt threatened by this man, and that set all my protective alarms screaming on high volume. Before I had time to react, Aunt Darla and Aunt Jane charged out of the house like angry mother bears. Aunt Jane put her arm around Mama’s shoulder while Aunt Darla grabbed me and tried to tow me back inside. I dug in my heels and refused to budge. They had been talking about me like I wasn’t there, and I wanted to know what was going on.

“This is the wrong way to go about this, James.” Aunt Jane’s face was almost as white as Mama’s, but her voice was calm. “You’re only going to upset everyone.” Mama was crying softly, hands over her face, and I broke loose from Aunt Darla to move closer to her.

“I’ve tried calling, Jane, but Ellie always hangs up on me. Alix is my daughter. I’ve got a right to see her.”

My father? I stared at the stranger, frozen with shock as a wave of dizziness hit me.

When I was five, I had developed a curiosity about the man who was my father. After all, the other kids I knew had one and I wasn’t quite sure why I didn’t. Mama told me they hadn’t gotten along so he’d joined the navy. But I sensed my questions bothered her and soon dropped the line of inquisition. I had the Judge, so I didn’t miss not having a real father. I’d never even seen a picture of him before. The only thing I knew about my father was his name. James Tipton.

57

Katherine Allred

“You’re my father?” I blurted the words before I could stop myself, and both Mama and Aunt Jane shot me horrified looks, as if they only that second realized I was still there.

He took a step closer to me and lifted a shaky hand to my cheek. “Yes, I am. God, you’re so beautiful, Alix, so grown up. I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time now.”

“No.” Aunt Darla shoved me behind her and swatted his hand away. “Please, James. Give us a few days to talk to her, to try and sort this mess out.” Tiredly, he rubbed his forehead. “Fine. You’ve got two days. But if I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll be back.” His gaze fastened on me again. “We need to talk.” I didn’t move, simply stood and watched as he climbed into his car and drove off, then numbly followed my mother and aunts back to the kitchen. They settled Mama into a chair like she was an invalid.

“Alix, go wet a washcloth with cold water,” Aunt Jane directed.

Knowing she only wanted me out of the room, I left, then stopped and leaned against the wall outside the kitchen. It says a lot about their state of mind that Aunt Jane never thought to see if I was listening.

“What am I going to do?” Mama sobbed.

“You have to tell her the truth, Ellie. If you don’t, James will.”

“I can’t. She’ll hate me, Jane.”

“Alix is an intelligent girl,” Aunt Darla said. “She’ll understand.”

“No, she won’t. All her life we’ve told her to respect herself, that truth and honesty are the most important things in life, and at the same time we’ve been lying to her. How is she going to understand that? What can I say that will make her accept that her mother was never married to her father?”

I had heard enough. My breath was coming in labored gasps and spots swam before my eyes. The only thing I could think about was getting away. Grabbing the Chevy’s key, I ran out the front door, my mother’s frantic voice following me when they realized I’d been listening.

Sick to my stomach, I drove blindly, paying no attention to where I was going. My whole life had been one big lie and I didn’t know what to do, how to react. I was a bastard, no better than any of the Swanner kids. But at least Liz hadn’t put on a big act, tried to be something she wasn’t. She’d survived the only way she knew how, and I’d always respected her for that.

How could I forgive my family for what they’d done to me? How could I ever face them again now that I knew the truth?

I don’t remember where I went that night, but I wound up at the Star-Vu Drive-In.

It was closed, the concession stand and playground ghostly in the pale moonlight. I pulled the Chevy behind the screen and got out, walking barefoot to the picnic table. I was still there when Nick found me.

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The Sweet Gum Tree

Without a word, he sat down and pulled me onto his lap. I curled into him and buried my face against his neck, shaking in spite of the warm night air.

“Want to talk about it?” he murmured.

I shook my head.

“Do you want to go home?”

Another shake, more violent this time.

“Okay, we’ll just sit here.” One hand stroked my hair in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“It doesn’t change who you are, you know,” he said.

“They told you?” I was humiliated and disbelieving. My family couldn’t tell me the truth, but now they told Nick?

“I don’t think they meant to. Everyone went kind of nuts when you ran off. Your mom called me at work, nearly hysterical, to see if you were there, and it sort of came out. Half the county is looking for you, but they only told people you were upset.”

“I can’t go home, Nick. Not yet.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

I thought about it. There really was only one option. “I’ll go to Jenna’s.” He stood, letting my feet slide to the ground. “I’ll follow you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, then took my hand. “Come on.

After you’re settled, I’ll go let your folks know you aren’t lying in a ditch somewhere.” Jenna wasn’t surprised to see me. Mama had called her earlier, hoping I’d gone to her house. I told her what had happened, and as I had once done for her, she tried her best to comfort me. At first, I was a little surprised my family didn’t come rushing over the second they knew where I was, but Nick had told them to give me time, that I was in no shape to hash things out just yet.

The next morning the Judge brought some of my clothes by, and when he was ready to leave he asked me to walk him to the truck.

“How are you?” he asked quietly.

I shrugged and looked down at the ground. I couldn’t tell him I was fine when I wasn’t.

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