CHAPTER FOUR
Tawny would never have believed that a place so far removed from civilization would bring in enough revenue to pay Flora’s and Zed’s salaries, much less three more and part-time wages for Brook. But when all the rest of the cabins but one were filled up by four o’clock that afternoon and she tallied up how much they’d make in only a few days, she realized what a moneymaker the place really was.
She was busy checking the schedule for Flora’s room-cleaning hours when she noticed that unit number six beside her would be filled late that evening by a Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Smith, a young honeymooning couple who’d only be there Friday and Saturday nights.
“Honeymoonin’ here?” She frowned. “Are they crazy?”
“I hope I’m not crazy, but the jury is still out.” A guy who looked vaguely familiar stepped inside the cabin.
Something tickled the outer edges of her memories. She’d swear on a stack of Bibles that she’d heard his voice before. She frowned as she checked the books for a name. Wyatt Simpson. The name rang a bell, but she couldn’t place him.
Then it clicked. He’d been at the lake resort that last summer that the sisters were all there together. He and Harper went to the lake every evening, and Tawny had seen them kissing. The image faded and was replaced by Harper sneaking through the back door at almost daybreak one morning. Was it Wyatt she’d sneaked out of the house to see that night?
“What?” She frowned.
“Didn’t you ask if I was crazy?” He smiled.
“Sorry, I was woolgathering. And I wasn’t talking to you. I was thinkin’ out loud about a couple who are plannin’ to honeymoon here. I said, ‘Are they crazy?’ not ‘Are you,’” she answered.
“Then no, they are not crazy. I can’t think of a better place to honeymoon than right here on the lake. It’s downright romantic. I’m Wyatt Simpson, and you’ve put me in number two with a set of twin beds. I should be in number three with a queen-size bed.”
“I have you down for three rooms, but you didn’t specify which ones you wanted on the reservations.”
“Didn’t have to when Annie was here. She knew what cabin I liked.”
“Well, until I get to know the customers, it would be nice if you’d tell me when you make the reservations.”
He nodded. “I’m a fishin’ guide. I have four guys who’ll be here in half an hour. They’ll need the two cabins that have twin beds,” he explained. “I can pick up the keys for them now, and I’ll put my things in the cabin with the bigger bed.”
“Sure thing,” Tawny said as she adjusted the room numbers on the computer and handed him the keys from the rack inside the door. “You been here recently?”
“Lots of times. Came for years with my grandfather, who was a fishin’ guide. When he died, I took over the business. You’d be one of Annie’s granddaughters, right?”
“Yes, sir. I’m the youngest, Tawny.”
“I’m sorry to hear about her passing, but I’m real glad that you are keepin’ the place open,” he said.
“Thank you. Anything else?” What did Harper see in him, anyway? Maybe it was because he was the only boy around that summer. Light-brown hair, hazel eyes, tall and sinewy with muscular arms but nothing outstanding about him—at least not in Tawny’s eyes.
“Are you the only granddaughter that came back to this place?” Wyatt asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “My sisters, Harper and Dana, are here also.”
Wyatt lingered at the open door. “Harper was fifteen and Dana had a little girl with her. Maybe about three or four years old. My grandpa thought she was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.”
Tawny looked up into his eyes. “That’s right. That little girl is fourteen now.”
“Wow, time does fly, doesn’t it? I was only sixteen that year, and it was my last visit here for a long time. But after college I decided that sitting behind a desk wasn’t for me, so I picked up where my grandpa left off,” Wyatt said. “I should be going. Nice visitin’ with you.”
“See you at supper?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t miss one of Zed’s burgers for anything. Just sorry I missed the blue-plate special at noon.” Wyatt shut the door behind himself.
She left the cabin and headed for the store. If she approached it right and didn’t make Dana angry, she might find out what her older sister remembered from that summer. The store was hopping busy with fishermen wanting bait and young kids whining for ice cream bars while their parents bought picnic supplies, so she grabbed a bag of pork rinds and a root beer and held them up. Dana nodded and Tawny left without getting any answers.
Her mouth was full of pork rinds when the phone rang. “Lake Side Resort,” she answered. She’d always heard the resort referred to as Annie’s Place, so the official name sounded strange in her ears.
“You are talking with food in your mouth. I can hear it,” her mother said bluntly.
“Sorry about that. Not bad manners, just good pork rinds.”
“Good God almighty!” Retha gasped. “I hated for you girls to go to that place in the summer. Pork rinds?”
“Are amazing. Especially the barbecued ones. You should try them,” Tawny giggled.
“I can’t believe you are actually living in that backwoods place.” Retha’s voice turned icy cold.
“What does it matter where I go? You disowned me, remember?” The sharp edge in Tawny’s tone could have shredded steel.
“It was to teach you a lesson. I know what’s best for you,” Retha said.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that’s why you tied up my and Harper’s inheritance from Daddy—to show us what is best for us?”
“I blame it all on that damned lake. Annie didn’t watch over you like she should have.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute, Mother. I know how to hang up a telephone, and a corded one makes such a lovely loud bang. I won’t have you talkin’ trash about Granny.”
“She broke up our family,” Retha countered.
“I’d say you broke it up when you sent Harper to boarding school. Why’d you do that? Daddy was never the same afterward. She was only fifteen. What did she do to get exiled?” Tawny asked.
“She left on her sixteenth birthday. That’s tough love. You can have your inheritance when you are forty or when I see that you are finally acting responsibly. God knows that damn resort is breeding ground for trouble,” Retha snapped.
“Trouble finds me wherever I go, Mother. There’s about ten cabins here with mighty fine-lookin’ men in every one. And I’m not any farther than a city block from a convenience store that sells all kinds of beer. Bet if I went down to the high school I could even score some weed.” Tawny knew she was baiting her mother, but she couldn’t make herself stop.
“I can’t believe my kin would turn out the way you and Harper have. I would have expected it of your father’s bastard daughter, but you two had the best that money could buy.” Retha sighed.
“Dana probably turned out to be the best one of us. She’s got her head on straight and she’s a really good mom to Brook, so don’t bad-mouth her.” Tawny couldn’t believe that she was taking up for her older sister.
“You just proved that you aren’t worthy to get your inheritance yet,” Retha said, and the line went dead.
“Love you, too, Mama.” Tawny slammed the receiver back on the base and muttered, “If you had any idea what this place is worth, you’d be beatin’ a path up here to try to get your grubby little hands on part of it.”
A bunch of guys wearing caps with fishing hooks and all kinds of pins attached to the bills arrived in the café just as Harper made the rounds to refill drinks. She set two pitchers on the drink counter and headed over to the only empty table in the café. “Looks like all y’all are wearing your lucky hats today.”
“Yep, every one of us is slightly superstitious. I’ll have sweet tea and a double-meat, double-cheese burger basket,” the one closest to her said.
“And the rest of you?” she asked without really looking at any of them.
“Same as old Donnie,” another one said.
“Me too,” two more chimed in.
“Well, that makes it easy enough. And you?” she asked the guy who’d pulled up a fifth chair from a two-top.
“You got any of the cobbler left over from dinner?” he asked.
A jolt of something akin to electricity shooting through her body glued her to the floor. She’d never forgotten that deep voice or the way that her hormones whined when he was within twenty feet of her.
“We’ve got about eight servings, last I checked,” she answered.
“Save it all for us. If we don’t eat it now, we’ll take it to go, and hello, Harper,” Wyatt said.
“Wyatt.” Her voice was at least two octaves higher than normal, and her hands trembled. “What brings you back here?”
“He’s our fishin’ guide. We’ve been comin’ here the past three years during this week. So you know this old ragtag fisherman?” the oldest guy in the group asked.
“Used to, but a lot of water has run under the bridge since we were sixteen.” She fought against the desire to leave the café, get into her truck, and not even look in the rearview mirror. She could be packed up and out of there in exactly thirty minutes. When she’d gone to Tyler for supplies, she’d had both her tires fixed, so she was ready to go. But that wouldn’t be fair to Uncle Zed or to her granny’s memory.
She took the order all the way to the kitchen instead of pinning it up over the serving window. She only needed a few seconds to still her racing pulse and calm her thumping heart. Dammit! She’d thought she’d gotten over him for good.
Zed looked up from the grill and pointed to a bar stool by his prep table. “Sit! You look like you just saw a ghost. What’s happened? Did Annie appear to you?”
She hiked a hip on the stool by the work island and leaned her elbows on it. “No. Has she appeared to you?”
“Not yet.” He sighed. “I keep hopin’, but it hasn’t happened yet. My mama said that when her grandmother died, she saw her standing at the end of her bed one night and then she was gone. She always thought that her granny was telling her that she was happy and not to worry. So what’s happened out there that you just about fainted?”
“I saw someone, but it wasn’t a ghost. He was very real. Though I wasn’t expectin’ to see him ever again,” she answered.
Zed peeked out the window and waved.
“Would that someone be Wyatt?” He rubbed his chin. “He’s here a lot. He missed a few years after his granddad passed. He finished school and went to college. Got him one of them fancy degrees in some highfalutin thing, but decided that he didn’t like livin’ in the big city. He come back to Lindale and started his grandpa’s old business. Lot like you’re doin’.”
“And he’s here every year?” Harper asked.
“Yep. About every week during the spring and summer.” He lined up several meat patties on the grill. “We make our money off return customers and word of mouth. Annie always said that was better than placin’ an ad in the newspaper. Why’d you ask about Wyatt?”
“He’s out there with his fishin’ crew and I recognized him. His grandpa used to bring him,” Harper said.
“And one summer you had yourself a crush on that boy.” He grinned.
“That was a long time ago.”
“Way you looked, it don’t look like it was long enough for you to forget him.”
“You know what they say about first loves, especially when you are really young,” she said.
“I believe that with all my heart,” he said.
“I just wasn’t expecting to see him. I should get back out there and make sure everyone has what they need.”
He patted her on the shoulder. “You’re makin’ a fine waitress. I’m proud of you, girl.”
As she moved around the tables of mostly fishermen, she caught snatches of conversation about catfish the size of Moby Dick and catching so many bass that they almost sank a boat hauling them to shore. She was almost to Wyatt’s table when the bell rang in the kitchen, and she hurried back to get their dinner baskets.
Setting them before each of the five men, she was very careful not to brush a hand across Wyatt’s arm or to even make eye contact. Being next to him gave her hot flashes that no little white pill in the world could cure.
“Zed could put in a burger shop anywhere in the world and people would flock to it. He should write a recipe book. Bet he could make a million bucks on it,” Wyatt said.
“Probably so, but I don’t think he’ll share his secrets with anyone,” Harper said. “Anything else I can get you guys?” Working at the café was more pleasant than working at bars, but anytime someone mentioned Annie, it put a lump in her throat the size of a grapefruit.
“You ever been told that you look a lot like Deana Carter, that country singer?” the older one in the group asked.
“Nope, and flattery won’t get you anywhere with me.” She blushed.
“She’s younger than Deana. I’d say she looks more like Carrie Underwood.”
“That won’t even get you an extra dessert,” she halfheartedly teased as she refilled their tea glasses and then made her way to the other side of the room to clean up a table that had been vacated. She shoved several dollar bills into her pocket. With little left to spend money on now that her truck was fixed, the tips were starting to add up.
She was very aware of when Wyatt and his fishermen left, but the rest of the evening swam with random visions that kept playing through her mind. Times she’d had with her grandmother, her sisters, and even Brook as a baby, but most of all flashes of Wyatt.
When Zed locked the door at seven o’clock on the dot and handed her a broom, she was humming an old Deana Carter tune, “Strawberry Wine.” She and Wyatt had never actually drunk wine in those days, but the lyrics sure did describe the summer.
“I’ll get the kitchen cleaned up. You can be in charge of the dining area. I figure it’ll take about half an hour and then we can go home. What’s that song you are humming?” Zed asked.
She told him the title.
“That kind of country music tells a story. Some of this new stuff is just repetitive crap. Let’s get this last job of the day done and we can go home,” he said.
“We are home.” She went back to humming.
“Glad that you see it that way. I like to see you so happy.”
One shoulder raised in half a shrug. “Look, you know I could find a job. Never been without one more than a week since I was a teenager, but this was like it fell out of heaven.”
“Goin’ to light out of here when you make enough money?” He stopped and turned around.
She began to sweep the floor. “Never know what tomorrow might bring.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” he said with a smile.
After cleanup was finished, Harper went back to her cabin, but she couldn’t sit still. She flipped back and forth between the two channels on the television, but neither one kept her attention. Memories. A whole summer of them kept rising up in her mind. It was that magical time when she and Wyatt discovered sex together, when in their youthful ignorance they’d been too careless and she’d gotten pregnant. The guilt she’d felt ever since giving that precious baby girl up for adoption had never left her. Like always, she felt the need to drink or to run, but she was determined to do neither that evening.
Zed needed her, and she had to finally face her past or she’d never move on to a future. She needed something, anything, to escape from the smothering pictures flashing through her head. She dug around in her box of books until she came up with one that she’d read a dozen times and still loved, but not even her favorite author, Katie Lane, could keep her attention.
Finally, she pulled on a jacket and went out to sit in the old metal lawn chair on the corner of her tiny porch. The stars shone bright, circling around a half-moon in a black velvet sky. On many hot summer nights in that same cabin, she’d had some wild and crazy good times in cabin number twelve with Wyatt Simpson, most of them after they’d shared a six-pack of beer.
Suddenly the little short hairs on her neck prickled and her pulse jacked up a few beats a minute, letting her know that Wyatt was really close by. Then he stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. She drew her long legs up and wrapped her arms around them.
“Hey,” he said. “I was out for an evening walk down that old trail behind the cabins. So are you living in this unit? I remember—”
She held up a palm. “That was a long time ago.”
“Ten years, if I remember right. We were a couple of crazy teenagers, weren’t we?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded. He didn’t have any idea of just how crazy and irresponsible they had been that summer.
“Are you just here for a few weeks or for a long time?”
“I don’t really don’t know. I basically live a day at a time,” she answered.
He nodded. “I understand that. Mind if I sit down?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Lots of porch steps. Help yourself to whichever one looks most comfortable.”
He sat on the top step and stretched his legs out over the steps to the ground. “I never forgot that summer. How about you?”
“Of course not,” she answered. That summer had set the course for her life the past decade and given her the means for a guilt trip that she went on every spring.
“Two crazy teenagers finding each other, beer, and sex. You married?” he asked.
“No. You?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Engaged?” Harper asked.
“Was at one time. She didn’t like the idea of me being a fishin’ guide.”
She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he answered. Not that it made a bit of difference. They were totally different people now. “What’d she want you to do?”
“I’ve got a degree in commercial business and worked for a mortgage company a year before I figured out I wasn’t cut out to wear three-piece suits.” He grinned. “How about you?”
“Been job hopping, just makin’ a livin’. Last one was working in a bar and livin’ in an apartment over the place,” she answered.
“You’re kiddin’ me!”
“Nope, didn’t finish high school, but I did get my GED. Haven’t spent a single day at college.”
He stood up. “I figured you’d own an oil well or two by now, or maybe you’d be a model for some fancy clothing place.”
“Disappointed?” she asked.
“Not in the least. We all have to find our way. As my favorite aunt used to say, it doesn’t matter what you do, long as you’re happy.”
“Sounds like a smart woman. It’s getting chilly.” She shivered. “I’m going inside.”
“I’d go get a six-pack of beer from my cabin if you’ll invite me over.” He grinned.
She shook her head and stood up. “Not tonight. We aren’t those crazy kids anymore.”
“I wish we were. That summer was the best time of my life. Maybe another time. See you at breakfast?”
“That’s my job long as I’m here,” she said. Like a famous author once wrote, that summer had been the best of times and the worst of times for Harper. What should have been a sweet awakening had turned into a bitter nightmare.
She went inside and fell forward on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Then she rolled over and shook her fist at the window. “Why, God? Why would you put me in this cabin and send Wyatt Simpson to the lake the first week I’m here?”
Face your demons and get on with life, the voice in her head said clearly. Was God speaking to her? If he was, then he didn’t know just how big her demons were.
“This is finally feeling like home,” Brook said between bites of her favorite supper—spaghetti, salad, hot rolls, and chocolate pie for dessert.
“Tell me about your first day at school,” Dana said.
“It was okay. I like Cassidy a lot. We’re already friends and there’s this one boy—” Brook laid her hand on her heart and fluttered her thick lashes. “He wears cowboy boots and tight-fittin’ jeans and he’s so dreamy. It’s different in public school. No uniforms. Everyone don’t look just alike.”
Dana’s heart fell into her pink fuzzy slippers. She wasn’t ready for Brook to like boys or want to start dating.
“But he’s got a girlfriend and he’s a senior, so he’d never even look at me.” Brook sighed. “But when I do get a boyfriend, he’s going to look like that and make my heart go all mushy inside. Hey, you know what?” She removed her hand and changed the subject. “We should’ve invited Aunt Harper and Aunt Tawny. They’re probably lonely.”
“They’ve got jobs to do just like us. Tomorrow and Sunday you’ll help Flora in the laundry,” Dana said. No way would she invite those two to supper. Granny had been wise in dividing their jobs. If she’d had to spend thirteen hours a day in the same room with either Harper or Tawny, she’d be ready for a straitjacket. Or worse—she might land in jail.
Brook groaned. “I’d rather clean horse stalls.”
“You see any horse stalls around here?”
Her daughter shook her head. “When we get done tomorrow evening and the store is closed, can we go down to the lake? Maybe even take a sandwich or get Uncle Zed to make us up some cheeseburgers?”
“Either Friday or Saturday night used to be movie and popcorn night. Why not just keep up the way we do things, Brook?” Maybe, just maybe, if she kept the traditions alive and going, she could delay Brook’s inevitable interest in boys.
“Then Sunday when we get done with work?” she asked.
“Maybe if it’s not rainin’,” Dana agreed.
“You know what I liked best about comin’ to Granny Annie’s?” Brook asked and continued before Dana could answer. “I liked sitting on the porch swing with her. When we finish supper, can we just go out there and swing? That way we can talk about her and I can tell her goodbye.”
“Yes, we can sure enough do that,” Dana said around the lump in her throat. “We can even take our dessert out there if you want.”
“Granny would like that,” Brook said.
A dark cloud shifted over the moon, blocking half the light as they sat in the swing and listened to the squeak of the chains as they ate chocolate pie and shared an orange soda pop straight from the bottle.
“This taste reminds me of the chocolate-orange candy we got Granny Annie at Christmas,” Brook said.
Dana bought those little foil-wrapped oranges for Granny Annie every year. She’d loved the combination of the two tastes and had always looked forward to getting one in her stocking.
And I didn’t even know last Christmas would be the final time I’d ever see her. If I had, I’d have brought her a dozen of those chocolate oranges, Dana thought.
Brook pointed toward the sky. “Look at those stars. Do you think there’s really holes in the floor of heaven like that country song says? Can Granny peek down and see us?”
“I don’t know,” Dana said. “But if there is, I bet she’s real happy that we are here takin’ care of things.”
“Especially Uncle Zed,” Brook said. “She’ll miss him more than anyone else. Does he look even skinnier to you than the last time we saw him?”
“He does look like he’s lost weight, but then he’s taken on his and Granny’s jobs for several weeks now. Maybe he’ll gain a little now that we’re all here to help take care of things. What makes you think that she’ll miss him more than any of us?”
“They were best friends their whole lives. Granny told me that the last time we saw her. She said that her and Grandpa Seamus and Uncle Zed grew up right here before the lake was made, when it was just farm country, and they’d always been friends. If I had a friend like that, I’d sure miss her.” Brook finished off her pie and licked the last of the chocolate from the plate.
“Brook Clancy, that’s bad manners,” Dana fussed.
“It made Granny laugh when I did it and I’m tellin’ her goodbye, so it’s okay.”
Dana couldn’t contain the smile. “So you think Cassidy will ever be a friend like Granny and Uncle Zed were?”
“Maybe if we stay here forever. We’ll have to see how things go.” Brook shivered. “It’s getting cold. We’d better go inside.”
A burst of warm air greeted them as they entered the house, along with a phone ringing in the kitchen. The old yellow wall-hung telephone was right inside the back door, and Dana made a beeline for it. Dana caught it on the fourth ring and breathlessly said, “Hello.”
“I think you’re supposed to say ‘Lake Side Resort,’ or at least ‘Annie’s Place,’” Tawny said.
“Maybe I’ll just say, ‘Beer, bait, and bologna. Drink it, catch it, or eat it—we don’t give a damn, long as you pay your bill,’” Dana shot back. “What do you want?”
“Would it be all right if I came to the house and sat on the swing for a little bit? Seems strange not to have Granny here, and I’d like to say goodbye to her,” Tawny answered. “I won’t disturb you.”
“Fine by me,” Dana said.
“Thank you.”
Dana stood there with the phone in her hand staring at it for a full thirty seconds before Brook took it from her and hung it up.
“You okay, Mama?”
“Tawny said, ‘Thank you.’ I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say those two words—at least not to me.” She thought about all the times that she’d sat on the swing or the porch with her much younger sisters. It had been a common ground for them, so maybe that’s what Tawny was thinking about.
“Think y’all will ever get along?” Brook asked.
“Probably not,” Dana answered.
“But—” Brook started.
“Granny used to say, ‘It is what it is,’ and I’ve come to accept that. You’d better go take your shower, young lady. It’s getting late.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I love Aunt Tawny and Aunt Harper so much. I wish . . .” She hesitated.
“Me too, kiddo, me too.” Dana gave her a quick hug.
She was determined not to even look outside and to let Tawny find closure however she wanted. But then she heard voices and stepped out onto the porch to find Harper sitting on the top porch step and Tawny stretched out on the swing, taking up every bit of it and not even offering to share.
“I didn’t know you both were coming over here,” she said.
“I didn’t know I had to ask if I could.” Harper raised a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “To Granny Annie. Rest in peace and in the knowledge that we’ll keep this place runnin’.”
Tawny held up a can of beer. “To Granny Annie. This was your favorite kind of beer. To the legacy you left for us.”
Dana sat down on the step with Harper and took the whiskey bottle from her hand. She tipped it up and held a mouthful for a few seconds before she let it slide down her throat, warming her insides. “To Granny Annie, who never thought she’d see the three of us agree on anything, but we all do want you to know that we’ll do our best to keep your place alive and well.”
“Huh!” Harper snorted. “Never thought I’d see the day that you’d put your lips where mine have been.”
“Whiskey kills germs,” Dana said. “We’ve made our vows. Reckon we can keep them?”
“Do my damnedest.” Harper nodded. “Long as it don’t mean I have to get all sweet and lovey-dovey with y’all.”
“Me too,” Tawny said. “We need to put on a front for Uncle Zed. He’s so sad and he doesn’t need us bickering in front of him. If we’ve got a problem, we should hold our tongues until he’s not around.”
“I agree. He looks so frail these days. I’m worried about him, but I can’t get him to let me do more in the café,” Harper said.
“I’ll try not to be bitchy if y’all will,” Tawny said.
Dana set her mouth in a firm line and nodded in agreement.
They both stared at Harper.
“Okay, okay! I’ll give it my best shot, but don’t expect miracles,” she said.
“Then we’re in agreement,” Dana said. “I think it might have been easier on him, maybe brought about closure, if we’d had a funeral for her.”
“I wonder why she didn’t want a funeral.” Tawny frowned.
“Guess we’ll find out when she’s ready to tell us,” Dana answered. “Y’all want to come inside? That north wind is chilly.” Now where in the devil did that come from? She didn’t want them in the house, and she dang sure wasn’t ready to be all “lovey-dovey,” as Harper had said.
“Not me. This is enough for tonight. I’m goin’ back to my place,” Harper said.
“Before you leave—” Tawny set the empty can on the porch. “Mother called me. I pissed her off, so I don’t reckon we’ll see our inheritance until she’s dead.”
“She mention me?” Harper stood up and handed the whiskey bottle to Dana. “There’s one swallow left. You can have it.”
“Thanks.” Dana finished off the last drop in the bottle and then set the empty on the porch.
“Yes, but it was to fuss about us both being a big disappointment. Only time she ever mentions your name. Been that way since we were teenagers and you went out to California to that boarding school. You never did come back home after that. Why?”
“She pissed me off. I don’t give a rat’s fanny if I never get my inheritance. I’ve made it this long without it, so I reckon I can go on forever without Daddy’s money.” Harper left without saying another word.
Dana leaned her back against a porch post. “What happened that summer that she went to the boarding school? Nothing was ever the same around here after that.”
Tawny shrugged. “I’m not real sure. Daddy did not cross Mother when she was in a good mood and really didn’t when she was angry, and I’ve never seen her as mad as she was at Harper back then. You ever see that sign that says, ‘If Mama Ain’t Happy, Ain’t Nobody Happy’?”
Dana laughed. “I had a T-shirt with that on it a few years back.”
“Well, it was the gospel truth in our house. Whatever happened when we got home sent Mother into a rage. She threw dishes and said she wouldn’t be able to hold her head up in her social circles, and the next day, Harper was packed off to the West Coast. I always wondered if they found drugs in her bedroom. It was hell to pay after she left,” Tawny said.
“She was so young, and so were you, Tawny.”
“They sent her away on her sixteenth birthday. It must’ve been something really bad, because Mother didn’t send me off, not even when she had to come bail me out of jail. I wondered if she’d gotten herself pregnant, but if she had there would have been a baby.”
“I can’t believe you were in trouble!”
“I was protesting the government’s policies. I didn’t really care, but my boyfriend of the day was a radical, and I got picked up and thrown in jail because I decked a policewoman who tried to cuff him.”
Dana slapped a hand over her mouth. She was doomed from birth to get into all kinds of trouble—that was expected of a bastard. But the two golden-haired glory children were supposed to have wings and halos.
“It happened when I was sixteen. Mother said that if I ever got in jail again that she’d send me off to a place worse than where Harper went. Harper is tough as nails—if she couldn’t handle it, there was no way I could. I’d already been in trouble twice at school, and she told me it was my third and final offense. I managed to stay out of trouble until last Christmas. Been on her bad side ever since.”
Dana couldn’t make herself go inside the house, no matter how cold it was. “That’s horrible. I can imagine being disappointed in Brook if she made bad choices, but I’d never disown her.”
“That’s because you are a good mother. I should be getting back. I feel better having told Granny Annie goodbye. I think she’d even like the way all three of us did it.”
“Me too.” Dana nodded. “Good night, Tawny.”
“’Night,” she said.
Dana sat there for a long time, a smile covering her face. Tawny had said that she was a good mother. Her youngest sister would never, not in a hundred years, ever know how much she’d needed to hear that.
Finally, she went inside to find Brook wrapped in a long terry-cloth robe and wearing a towel turban-style around her hair. She hugged her daughter tightly and said, “I love you, kiddo.”
“Love you more,” Brook giggled. “I left you some hot water. Do I smell liquor on your breath?”
“It’s whiskey. Your two aunts and I said goodbye to Granny Annie out on the porch.”
“She’d like that.” Brook grinned.