Wedding Ring (41 page)

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Authors: Emilie Richards

BOOK: Wedding Ring
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Tears sparkled in the girl’s colorless lashes. “I guess I’m just real lucky, then.”

 

Zeke had a small studio in a corner of the Claiborne barn where he repaired stringed instruments. He was so pleased to see Tessa with Cissy that he immediately offered her a tour, but she declined, not willing to put off the moment of truth any longer. Cissy was ready to tell him about Lucas, and Tessa didn’t want her courage to wane.

“Is there a quiet place where we can talk?” she asked him.

Zeke looked puzzled, but he led both women to a rough-sawn wooden bench under a willow near the farm pond. The rain had stopped, and he dried the bench with a bandana, even though they chose to stand.

“Cissy, are you feeling bad?” he asked. His exuberance had disappeared, replaced by concern. If he hadn’t noticed Cissy’s red eyes before, he’d noticed them now.

She was looking down at her hands, clenched over her belly. “Zeke, I got something to say, and I need to say it fast. So let me, please.”

He didn’t respond. He just touched her hand, as if he knew she needed the courage. Tessa was impressed. In this, as in everything she’d seen of him, she noted the young man’s sensitivity and maturity.

“That night last winter when you went to the emergency room to check on your mama and left me at the party? Well, that night I drove Lucas to his house because he’d been drinking. I got out to help him inside and he…he…” Her hands twisted, and she began to sob.

Zeke grew visibly paler. “He did what? What did he do?”

But Cissy was crying too hard now to answer.

“He raped her,” Tessa said. “And she’s been terrified to tell you.”

“I…I fought him. I scratched him up good, but he wouldn’t—”

Zeke grabbed her and hauled her against his chest. “Cissy…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just…couldn’t.”

He was crying now, too, crying and holding her tighter. “I knew…I knew something had happened. But you wouldn’t tell me. I tried to get you—”

“I was afraid.”

“He’s the one who’d better be afraid!”

“He’s gone. Left right after. Figured I’d be telling you, I guess, and he knew he’d better…not stay around.”

“I wondered why he just disappeared.” He swallowed twice. “Nobody knows where…I’m going to find him!”

“No!” She pulled away. “No. Lucas, well, he’s done enough to us, don’t you think, Zeke? If you hurt him, kill him, the law will go after you. I been scared to death to tell you, even more scared to marry you.”

The truth seemed to hit him full force now. “The baby?”

She shook her head. She looked miserable. “The doctor says you and me, we made this baby before Lucas, before he attacked me. But what if the doctor’s wrong, Zeke? What if this baby isn’t yours? Now can you see why I didn’t want to marry you? Can you understand?”

He looked stunned. His hand brushed her belly, once, then again.

Cissy sobbed, low in her throat.

He looked up at her. “That’s my baby.”

“What if it’s not?”

“I said that is
my
baby. No other man can lay claim to it. I’m the one who loves you, who looks out for you, who holds you at night when you have bad dreams. I’m the one who brought you crackers and Coke when you couldn’t lift your head off the pillow. That makes this my baby.”

Cissy looked as if she wanted to argue again. Tessa knew it was time to step in. “Zeke, Cissy’s had an ultrasound. These days they can pinpoint conception very accurately. And the doctor says this baby was conceived several weeks before…the party.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re not hearing me right. Neither of you is hearing me. So listen. This is
my
baby. I take Cissy to the doctor, and I’m the one that hears that little heart beating. And I’m the one who feels that tiny little body squirming against her belly.”

“You haven’t had time to think about it,” Cissy said.

“Haven’t I? Don’t you think I asked myself over and over why you didn’t want to marry me?” He shook his head. “About a month ago I finally got around to asking myself if maybe I wasn’t the baby’s daddy. I didn’t think that maybe you’d been…I just thought maybe there’d been someone else before me, someone you were afraid to tell me about. I knew it had to be something big like that, because I know you love me, Cissy.”

Her eyes filled again. “I do, Zeke.”

“So I asked myself if it would matter. Took some time to think it over. So I
have
had time. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I haven’t. And I figured then, just like I figure now, that it’s not one night that makes a father. It takes a lot more than that.”

Tessa watched Cissy fall back into his arms, watched Zeke rest his damp cheek against her hair. She knew she should turn away and give them a moment of privacy. But before she did, she drank in the sight of them together.

Children, really. Too young to be parents. Too poor to manage easily. Yet both of them possessed of everything they would need to get them through difficult times. The desire to be fair, to tell the truth, to love each other despite terrible, almost insurmountable, obstacles. Two young people willing to take a leap of faith together.

From the beginning she had been sure Cissy and Zeke were not ready to be parents, that someone older and more stable, more experienced, should adopt their child and raise it. Someone, perhaps, like herself and Mack. Now she looked at them and saw the truth. That nothing was as important to a marriage, to becoming parents, as that final leap, that final hope-filled leap into the unknown.

“I’ll leave you two,” she said, her throat tight, her eyes misting. “That’s going to be one lucky baby.” She turned and found her way across the grass and down the driveway to her car.

CHAPTER 29

T
essa watched her mother slip real leather sandals with heels on her feet. It was Saturday morning, and the sun was just barely creeping over the horizon, but Nancy looked fresh and ready for the day. As Tessa continued her inspection Nancy stood and straightened her knit skirt.

“The least I can do is take the quilt show committee out to breakfast after all the work they’ve done for Mama. I wish you could come with us.”

“You know why I can’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

Tessa repeated the facts anyway. “Daddy’s on his way. We’re going bird-watching. He’s going to notice you’re not here. Again.”

“I have a life.” Nancy gave a flippant shrug. “What can I say?”

“Isn’t this a little manipulative, Mom?”

Nancy paused to consider. “It’s Saturday, Tessa. Some of these women work. They’re giving up their free time to help make your grandmother’s show a success. Saturday is the only morning I can show my appreciation.”

“And it doesn’t have a thing to do with avoiding Daddy?”

“Something, I guess. But to be fair, does it matter? I see him for five minutes before you two go off into the hills. That’s hardly worth hanging around for.”

“He offers to take you out to lunch when we get back, but you always manage to be gone by then.”

“Well, today my excuse is impeccable. It’s one week till the show. And once your grandmother gets wind of it, we’ll be so busy soothing her, there won’t be time to take care of details.”

Tessa was surprised that Helen hadn’t yet learned she was going to be a star. Her relative isolation had made that possible, but it wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough she would find out, and Tessa and Nancy were girding their loins for a senior citizen tantrum.

“What’ll I tell Daddy?” she asked.

“Tell him the truth, that I’ve made friends here and I’m out with some of them.”

“You haven’t told him about the show?”

“I haven’t been keeping it from him. I just haven’t seen him in private. Besides, he won’t be interested. I’ll leave him a message at home in case he wants to come and show some support for your grandmother, but I bet he’ll think of an excuse.”

“I don’t think that’s fair.”

“Has he ever shown the least amount of interest in old quilts?”

“No, but he’s shown a great deal in Gram.”

Nancy thought it over. “Feel free to tell him yourself. Of course he’s invited if he feels like making the trip next weekend. But I bet he’ll just send her flowers.”

“You’re the one who sends flowers. Does he even know how to dial the florist?”

“It’ll be a new trick for the old dog. Let’s see if he manages.” With a wave, she headed out the door.

Tessa had no doubt her mother was telling the truth and that she was entertaining the ladies who were helping her with the quilt show. But she wondered what restaurant would be open this early. It was more likely that Nancy was leaving now to avoid her husband. She would prefer to sit in a hot parking lot, waiting for the restaurant to open its doors, rather than face Billy.

Tessa went to shower, and by the time she came out, her father was waiting in the living room. He’d found the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, and now he was sipping it over that morning’s
Richmond Times-Dispatch
, obviously brought from home, since Helen got her newspapers from trash piles.

He rose and kissed her cheek. “All ready?”

“Sure am. There’s a new spot down by the river where I thought we might do a little scouting.”

“I guess your mother’s not up yet.”

“Up, dressed and gone.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Gone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“This early?”

“She’s meeting some women for breakfast.”

He glanced at his watch. “Or a late dinner.”

“Breakfast.”

“Maybe I’ll have to start coming in the night before to catch her.”

“Maybe you will.”

He was quiet as they crossed hills, walking softly and stopping from time to time at the sound of bird calls or the sudden flapping of wings. They checked Helen’s bluebird boxes, strung out on metal poles along a three-rail fence. They had hoped to remove old nests now that it was late enough that the birds would have fledged, but there was no sign of activity along the trail.

“Most of these boxes are rotting,” Tessa said. “We should buy Gram new ones. No telling how old these are.”

“I helped your grandmother put them in place one summer when we came to visit. I think you were still living at home, it’s been that long. She said her brother always put boxes out for the bluebirds. She monitored them weekly in those days, just the way they tell you to.”

“Where was I?”

“Trying to avoid her.”

Tessa was sorry about that now. “It’s a nice memorial, isn’t it? I wonder which brother.” She considered what she knew about the two men. “Tom, I bet.”

They fell back into step. On a hill looking over the river Tessa pointed out a clump of trees that were set back a bit. “That seems like a good place to watch for activity down on the bank.”

But Billy didn’t move. “Tessa, I don’t want to put you on the spot, but what’s going on with your mother?”

“Going on?”

“Who’s she really meeting this morning?”

For a moment she didn’t understand. Then a smile tugged at her lips. “You mean, is she meeting a man?”

“She’s never here.”

“She’s here all the time, Dad. Just not when you are.” She let that sink in. “This morning she’s having breakfast with some women from Gram’s church. Next weekend they’re putting on a show of Gram’s quilts. They’ve been planning it for weeks. Gram doesn’t know, and that’s why nobody’s said anything when you were visiting, because we didn’t want her to overhear.”

“You’re planning a quilt show to honor your grandmother, and nobody bothered to tell me?” For once his feelings were obvious.

“Look, until this morning, I didn’t realize you didn’t know. I just assumed Mom had told you at some point. But when I asked her today, she said she doubted you’d be interested. She said she’d call and leave you a message this week just in case.”

“Well, that’s darned decent of her. My very own phone message.”

Tessa lifted a brow. “You haven’t exactly been around for her. You come to see me. That’s obvious. Mom’s certainly not stupid. She can read a lack of interest as well as anybody else.”

“I’ve been busy. I’m a financial consultant. The economy—”

“Oh, the heck with the economy. Look, Mom’s made some pretty significant changes this summer. She’s a lot less interested in pleasing people than she used to be. Coming back here has made some very real differences in the way she’s looking at things now. And I guess she feels she doesn’t have to hang around and wait for you to pay attention to her anymore. She just doesn’t need it.”

“Doesn’t need
me
, you mean.”

Tessa held up her hands. She had already said too much. “Look, what am I, all of a sudden? The person most likely to be put in the middle of every emotional crisis? I’m out of this one. I’m not saying another word to you or to her about it. Your marriage is your marriage. I’m having enough trouble hanging on to my own. It’s up to you two to straighten this out or tie it into tighter knots. It’s not my choice. If you want to find her, try the church. I think they were heading over there after breakfast to finalize plans.”

Billy just looked at her, the eruption of feelings carefully tamped down again, at least outwardly.

“Dad,” she prompted. “This is not the time to close up shop.”

“You’re right, Tessa. I shouldn’t have involved you.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Do you want me to draw you a map? The church isn’t that far away.”

He considered, looking as torn as a well-bred Southern gentleman ever allowed himself.

“Just what am I going to find there?” he asked at last.

“I don’t know. But you’re going to have to look and see for yourself.”

He gave a short nod before they started down toward the stand of trees.

 

Nancy was delighted with the progress she and the women’s auxiliary had made. On Friday they would come together one last time to put the show in motion. They were going to hang thirty quilts, eight of which Helen had given away to church families over the years. Each family had promised to write the quilt’s story, what it had meant to them when it was given, who had it now and how it was being used. Three of the stories had already come in. Nancy had been moved to tears by each one.

Helen was so sure she’d done nothing of consequence in her lifetime, but her generosity had affected so many people. It was time she felt pride in what she had accomplished.

Cathy, one of the volunteers and a retired insurance agent, came to stand beside Nancy under the shade of a large oak at the side of the church. “It’s a week away, but there’s not a bit of rain forecast. That could change, but considering the rest of the summer, I think we can plan for the outdoor display.”

Nancy liked Cathy. She was unaffected and comfortable with herself, as well as gray-haired and stout enough to showcase her obsessive love of chocolate. She was also a quilter, although a rank beginner, and particularly excited about Helen’s show.

Nancy measured the distance between the trees by sight, mentally calculating how much clothesline they would need, then doubling that amount for good measure. “When I was a little girl, Mama would wash her quilts twice a year. She’d wait for a shady day, then she’d wash them in an old tub outside before she hung them on the line. I loved them that way. Waving in the breeze, like dancing rainbows.”

“That’s how they’ll look Saturday. I’ve got some of those old-fashioned pins, too, without the springs. They’ll be perfect.”

“Do you think we’ve done everything we need to today?” Nancy asked.

“We’ve each got our lists. I think we’ll be ready. She still doesn’t know?”

“You’ll hear her yelling all the way to your house when she finds out.”

“Every guild in the valley knows about it, and some beyond. People will turn out, and not just church people.”

Cathy had done a particularly lovely flyer and sent it everywhere she could think of. She’d reported dozens of phone calls asking for more information. Helen’s quilt show had developed a life of its own, and Nancy was delighted.

“All of us learned a lot watching you work,” Cathy said.

Nancy was surprised. “Me?”

“I never saw anybody so organized or persuasive. You should have sold insurance. You’d probably be the CEO of Allstate
and
State Farm by now.”

Nancy felt a warm glow. She supposed Helen wasn’t the only one in the family who hadn’t appreciated her own talents. “Nothing pleases me more than making displays.” She thought of the highly polished apples of her youth, the eggplants, peppers and tomatoes. She hadn’t changed that much, not in all these years. Most of the changes had simply been window dressing. And not always for the better.

“I hate to lose you when the summer’s over,” Cathy said. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. We all have.”

“You won’t lose me. I’ll be here whenever I can, and you’ll come down to Richmond and visit.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Cathy lifted a hand in a goodbye wave and started off toward the church.

Nancy glanced at her watch and grimaced. It was still early. If she went home now, Billy might be there. She was avoiding him, of course, just the way Tessa had said she was. Her new vision of herself was too tender to share. She’d given up her identity once—heck, she’d thrown it away with such force, she was surprised she’d been able to find even the remnants. But she knew she wasn’t strong, that her need for love and acceptance was still so overwhelming that she might yet squander any newfound enlightenment on the altar of her husband’s approval.

As if just thinking about Billy had conjured him, he came around the corner of the church, clearly searching for someone. She actually considered stepping behind the tree so he wouldn’t spot her, until she realized—all in a split second—how immature that was. She was married to Billy Lee Whitlock, and maybe their marriage had failed and failed badly in the ways that most mattered, but she couldn’t simply pretend it had never happened.

She stepped farther into the sunshine and waited for him to join her. The moments it took him to reach her were some of the longest in her life.

“Tessa told me I’d find you here.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek in greeting.

She wondered if any couple their age still shared more than a quick peck on the cheek at moments like this. Had she and Billy ever shared more? She could hardly remember. Passion in the bedroom, that was memorable. But in the other common moments of their life together?

“Is something going on at home?” she asked. “Did you need to see me about anything?”

“No, everything’s fine.” He stepped back and looked at her, as if noticing the differences for the first time. “Your hair’s different.”

“I got tired of fussing with it.”

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