When You Fall... (18 page)

“Danielle told me you stopped by. It’s been a busy week, and I couldn’t talk to you around Charlie. Did you need anything?” he asked.

“No, I was stopping by to say thanks for… for the other night, for making me feel better,” she said, serious at the end.

“You’re welcome. How are your horses?”

“Fine. Getting better. I’d better get back. My friends drove down to see me, to make sure I was okay and not killing myself.”

“The ones from the wedding. Good friends, those three,” he said.

“Yes, they are. And speaking of friends, we’re still friends, you and I?” she asked.

“Sure. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I enjoyed the other night,” she said, smiling.

“Me, too. No. We’re good. I like you, Carter.”

“I like you, too,” she said.

“What are you doing out here, Carter?” Sandra asked, opening the door wide. Sandra was now at her side, her head resting against Carter’s shoulder again. “You come back now and play with our Carter,” she said and giggled.

Carter rolled her eyes. “See you later,” she said, closing the door firmly this time.

Rafael heard “G..u..r..l,” before the door completely closed. He smiled, shook his head and chuckled as he walked back to his truck.

“Okay, I changed my mind. I agree with you, completely—one hundred percent agree with you. You need to stay here. Don’t come back to town. Stay out here, more specifically, get him to stay here with you. Screw him until you can’t see straight,” Frankie said, once Carter and Sandra were back in the kitchen.

“Hey, you two can farm together,” she added.

“He really is a farmer?” Gwen asked.

“Yes, as far as I know, although we been too busy doing other things to talk about farming,” Carter said, before she presented them a full smile.

“Oh,” Frankie squealed, “Give it up! Was he as good as he looks?”

“Better. You wouldn’t believe the things that man can do,” Carter said, “And I deserved him, after all I put myself through,” she said and sat down, then proceeded to give them all the dirty details.

“You go girl. It’s about damn time, too,” Frankie said a few minutes later.

“It was one time only. I’m done looking for men, my sisters and Gloria not withstanding. I’m done,” she said.

“That’s just hurt talking,” Sandra said.

“It may be, but I’m still done.”

“Have you seen your video lately?” Gwen asked, changing the subject, looking at Carter. She stood up and walked over to where they’d dropped their purses when they entered.

“I have, but not since before I’d gotten fired,” Carter said.

“There’s been a few more since then. You up for seeing them?” Gwen asked.

“I am, thanks to my good friends and their good bottles of vino.”

“Good, cause I want to watch them. Some of them are really entertaining, and I’m always amazed at what people are willing to put out there for all the world to see.”

“Ain’t that the truth. There are no limits anymore. Just put your stuff out there, even if it’s something that’s best kept to yourself.” Sandra added.

Gwen pulled up the videos and they watched, making fun of the copycats. Carter even responded to some of the comments left on her Facebook page, finding strength in fighting back, even if she didn’t know those people.

Frankie glanced around the group, her eyes landing on Carter. They had been seriously worried about her. They’d gotten down here as fast as their schedules permitted, ignoring all of
Carter’s I’m okays
. Whew… she could let go of some of her worries regarding Carter now that she was here.

Carter seemed calm, restful even, for the first time in a long time. They’d been worried about her, even long before the attempted break-up of Bentley’s wedding.

How to describe their friend? Well, she was restless, a bit of a dreamer, and in constant competition with those stepsisters of hers, all for the love of her dad. Daddy Woodson was overrated as far as Frankie was concerned.

Frankie wasn’t totally surprised that Carter had wound up attempting to break up Bentley’s wedding. He was the only man that seemed to accept Carter the Cowgirl, and who knew if another one of those would come along again.

This evening, however, Carter had surprised them all. And if she’d gotten some from that Latino lover, all the better. She hoped Carter would finally figure out what she wanted to do with her life, maybe even find a man she loved, and not because it was some requirement—something that met her father’s definition of success and acceptance—but because her heart had led her to it.

Frankie was gay, had found her life’s partner and had a hard time understanding Carter’s unrelenting quest for affection and this desire to fit in. But she’d come from different parents; ones that were not so consumed with being whatever, to whomever.

And she hadn’t lost her mother and been left with Mr. Woodson, Carter’s dad—the African American model of perfection for a father, either. Sometimes African Americans were harder on themselves and each other than anyone else could be. There is only one way to be black, don’t you know?

Her parents had only wanted their daughter to be happy and loved her without conditions. And what a gift that had been.

#

Friday night around midnight

“You all can stay, spend the night. There’s plenty of room,” Carter said.

“Nope. Got kids’ games in the morning,” Sandra said, kissing Carter as they loaded up their bags and purses.

She hugged them, watching as they piled into Frankie’s car. It was almost midnight. She waved as they pulled away. She did and would continue to miss them, chuckling again at their reactions to Rafael.

#

The house phone was ringing again as Carter entered the house, returning from her early morning stall cleaning and feeding of the animals. Should she answer? Madison was the only person that called her on that thing. She walked into the living room and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi Carter. Dad and I discussed you last night,” Madison said.

“Really?”

“Really. It was my suggestion to use you as the new property manager. I mean, what’s wrong with you? You know the ranch. You grew up there, and you’re free. So why pay someone, right?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Carter said, starting to feel a little excitement at Madison’s words. If her father had a favorite, it was Madison. He might listen to her. Of course, he didn’t play favorites. He’d told her that when she in anger, had posed that question to him.

“Well, after listening to him, I realized that he has a point. It wouldn’t be good for you to stay out there. You can’t hide out forever. You do need to find yourself a job,” Madison continued, bringing Carter’s hopes to a crashing halt.

“Is there a reason for this call?”

“So touchy. What’s up with you?”

“I was on my way to breakfast,” she said.

“Nope. Just passing on my conversation with dad. Heard Savannah has got you set for July. I’m working on mine. Anyway, bye for now,” she said and hung up.

#

“Hi Dad,” Carter said into her cell phone later that day.

“Carter, I haven’t been able to track down the old property manager or the real estate firm that hired him. I’ve called several times, on the different numbers he’d left, but nothing. I’ve left several messages and haven’t received a returned call, which is no way to manage a business. Has he turned up there yet?”

“No.”

“This is what we’ll do, then. I’ve already started to locate another real estate company. I’ll find someone to come and finish what you’ve started, to oversee both the repairs and the subsequent sale. I’ve set up some interviews for the end of the week with a few potential applicants. Losing the property manager may turn out to work in our favor. If he was as bad as you say, and living in the house, then we don’t have the hassle of getting rid of him.”

“Dad, you don’t need to hire anyone. I was going to call you and tell you that I could do the work. I can finish the repairs, hire out for the things I can’t do,” she said. It had grown quiet on her father’s end. Not a good sign, but she pushed on anyway.

“I’ve given some serious thought to living out here for a while, too, so it makes sense for me to become the property manager for us, free of charge.” It was still quiet on the other end. She pressed on.

“I’m already here. I’ve been cleaning up. You saw yourself how it looked. You hadn’t seen the before picture, but believe me, it was like watching an episode of Hoarders. Plus, I’m more familiar with the ranch than any person you could hire. I’ve seen it at its best. I’ve already made a tour of the land, repaired the fencing, had all that old junk dumped on our property removed, and cut the grass. I can do this,” she pleaded into the silence.

“I appreciate the offer, Carter. Really, I do,” he said, softening his voice, trying not to hurt her feelings. It was a rare moment for him, for sure. He must have thought she was close to the edge.

“But I’d prefer to have a real estate company with management experience and the resources to handle this. It would be better for everyone, I think. You are too close to the land; it means too much to you. And we also wouldn’t want to interfere with your future job search, now would we?” he asked, pausing before he added, “You can’t hide out forever.”

“I’m not hiding out,” she said.

“Then it would be good for all parties concerned to have an objective third party handle this sale. I’ll be in touch. Goodbye, Carter.”

“Goodbye, Dad.”

#

Saturday afternoon

Rafael pulled into his parent’s driveway. He tried to stop by often when he was in Austin, which was at least three or four times a week. His dad’s truck was parked in the front drive, next to his mother’s. Another smaller Jeep sat in the drive. He didn’t recognize it as belonging to any of his brothers or their wives.

His dad had called and asked him to stop by around lunchtime. He planned to tackle putting on a new roof next week and wanted advice. Since Rafael had done some roofing during his summers, he could help.

The garage door was open, which was not unusual. This was where his dad usually kept himself; his man cave, he used to say. It was empty of humans, so Rafael continued his trek into the house, passing through the utility room and into the kitchen.

The smells of his mother’s cooking greeted him, and his stomach growled. His mom was an excellent cook. He heard conversation coming from the dining room.

“It’s my Rafael,” his mother said, standing up. He could see her and his father and a young woman seated around the dining room table.

“Hello,” he said.

“Oh mijo, you’re just in time for lunch. You won’t believe who this is. Maria Gonzales. You remember her. I used to give you two baths together when you were little. Remember, she stayed with us while her mother worked nights?” she asked, pulling out a chair for him to sit. He scanned the table quickly, taking in the four place settings already there.

“Maria stopped by to see us as I was cooking lunch for your father. She just graduated college and is staying with her parents while she looks for work. Such a fine daughter!” His mother said, beaming.

“Hello,” he said, smiling at Maria, before meeting his dad’s eyes.

Okay, so his mother was playing matchmaker again. Lunchtime and dinner appointments were her signature set-ups. He knew to stay clear of any and all of her requests that required him stopping by during those hours. But this time his dad had done the calling.

His mother’s most important duty, after educating her boys, was to see them married. He was the baby boy and so far, the only holdout. He should be married. How many times had he heard those four words from her?

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

“I have. It was nice meeting you, Maria. Sorry Mom,” he said and looked over at his father. “Do you have time to show me what you wanted for the roof? I only have a few minutes,” he said.

“You can take a few more minutes to visit with your family. Here, sit.” His mother said.

“Sorry, I can’t,” he said, pulling out his best smile.

“You’ve got time. You can make time. Your goats and chickens can feed themselves. I grew up with them. I know a thing or two about farming,” she said.

“Sorry, Mom,” he said again. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Dad, I’ll be in the garage for another 10 minutes. I’ll make a list of what you need to buy for supplies,” he said, nodding to Maria-of-the-pretty-eyes—meek personality on the outside concealing a spine encased in steel, laying in wait for the unsuspecting male. It was the type his mother loved. The type of woman she was. Don’t let the smile fool you. You had to stand up for yourself or you’d find her footprints all over your body.

He turned and headed to the garage, walked over to his father’s work table, pulled out a sheet of paper and began making a list. He was surprised that neither of them had followed him out. Probably busy with how to solve-a-problem-like-Maria. He stepped outside and quickly surveyed the roof one last time, amended the list of supplies and left it on his dad’s work bench.

His dad walked into the garage, wearing a look of disappointment. Rafael was preparing to leave. “You sure you don’t have time for lunch?” he asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Here is the list. Let me know when you’re ready to start. I’ll see you later,” he said and made his way to his truck.

“Rafael!” he heard and unfamiliar female voice and turned to see Maria approaching him.

“I didn’t know,” she said, a quiet smile on her lips. “I hate the matchmaking thing, too. My mother and yours together—not a good combination. It was hard to get out of this,” she said.

“I know,” he said, his smile not his usual.

“Here, take my number in case you change your mind. We can start over,” she said.

He took her card and smiled. “Nice meeting you,” he said, before getting into his truck.

#

Sunday

Carter didn’t see Rafael at all for a few days after he’d endured her friends’ teasing. She spent most of today upstairs, cleaning out Jack’s bedroom, trying to keep herself upbeat in the face of her dad’s opposition once again. She didn’t expect her sisters to understand, although Madison’s initial suggestion had surprised her. She hoped this one time her dad would have responded differently. He was the offspring of men who had worked hard and sacrificed to build this place. The same blood ran in his veins after all—and all for naught, it seemed.