TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK
IT WAS HOT as the blazes on that early August afternoon, but what else was new? The sun bore down brutally with no sign of a cloud, one, that might ease its wrath. The sky was as blue as it could be and Lawrence Baker’s mouth felt like sandpaper, despite all the swimming and drinking he’d been doing with his best pal.
Except that Billy wasn’t so much fun to be around this afternoon, as was the norm lately. Lawrence wasn’t sure what he expected when he received the invite to swim that morning. He supposed he expected Billy to be back to his old, cheerful self now that he’d finally gotten himself attached to Sue Wilkerson. After all, Billy had only been after that dame for a year now. He half expected Sue to be there when he showed up. But, no. It was just Billy.
The Connors’ farmhouse could really only be called a farmhouse from the outside. Or, hell, really only from the front. The inside looked like your typical modern mansion with marble flooring, crystal chandeliers, Persian rugs, and stark white furniture as far as the eye could see. Lawrence knew nothing about interior design, but even he knew that a splash of color might do the place a favor. He’d let his mind wander as he’d munched on cookies offered to him by Mrs. Connors while he waited on Billy.
Now the pair were outside on the back deck, directly underneath the onslaught of the sun, as it took no time at all to dry up the water that dripped down their bodies. Lawrence had wanted to swing from the branches down at the river, but Billy had insisted that they stay at his house and indulge in the swimming pool. Didn’t really feel like going out in public, Billy had said. Lawrence wanted to mutter something about at least investing in a slide, then, but he kept it to himself.
As Lawrence puffed on a cigarette, silently admitting that the act probably wasn’t helping his parched mouth, he eyed Billy warily. He’d seemed distracted today. Maybe even a little on edge. As males, they didn’t really like to openly discuss their personal troubles. But since Lawrence and Billy had been chums since they were small boys, they had no trouble communicating with each other. So Lawrence got right to it.
“You and your girl on thin ice or something?”
They were leaned up against the deck’s marble railing as they smoked and Billy appeared caught off guard. “What?”
“You’re miles away, have been all morning. Trouble in paradise?”
“There wasn’t,” Billy muttered, flicking his ashes. “Till Saturday.”
Lawrence nodded knowingly. He should have already guessed. Zac Hanson came home two days ago, something that Billy had been for certain would never happen. When he showed up at the governor’s picnic, there was immediate friction, despite Sue clinging desperately to Billy’s arm in her purple-stained dress. When he showed up at church with the Harlows yesterday, Lawrence kept a lookout for lightning bolts. Zac never once looked in Billy’s direction, but Lawrence had to admit that the look in Billy’s eyes made him a little uneasy. Part of his morning prayer included pleas of not having to break up a fist fight in the house of the lord.
His prayers were answered. Obviously the man upstairs wasn’t having any of it, either.
But, apparently, Billy was still brooding. Lawrence didn’t understand why. After Billy got with Sue and ended his ridiculous pursuance of Bessie Harlow, things calmed down and no mention of Zac Hanson was made again.
Except now he was back. And now it was like Billy was right back at square one.
“Tell me we’re not at this again,” Lawrence sighed. “You’re with Sue now, he’s minding his own business…”
“What, were you off taking a piss or something when he made that spectacle at the picnic?”
Lawrence’s eyes fell to the concrete as he flicked his ashes. Even a man taking a piss wouldn’t have missed that exchange. Zac was loud enough for all of Tulsa to hear. But, no, Lawrence saw the whole thing, along with everyone else. He would never admit it out loud, but he understood Zac’s apprehensiveness. If you saw your significant other being friendly with your sworn enemy, you’d be ready to fight, too. Could Zac have handled it a little more gracefully? Maybe. But at the same time, for the first time, Billy was completely innocent in the matter.
And he was apparently still brooding about it.
“No, I saw it,” Lawrence replied. “Couldn’t miss it.”
“He popped up out of nowhere and humiliated me in front of my girl! Sue got mad at me! I had to bring her flowers yesterday and everything!”
Lawrence furrowed his brow in confusion.
“She accused me of going with Bessie behind her back,” Billy continued. “She doesn’t trust me. Or, well…she didn’t then. I hope she does now.”
Lawrence suppressed a snort as he flicked his ashes on the ground. Then he looked up and studied Billy’s dark features for a moment. “Well, did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Go with Bessie behind her back?”
Billy’s expression flattened. “Come on. You know I didn’t.”
“But you tried to.”
Billy blinked at Lawrence in stunned silence.
“I mean, you said it to his face, right there in front of Sue. No wonder she got mad.”
Billy’s expression clouded over. “I was just trying to get his goat, anyone could see that! Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, naturally. But as your best friend, it’s my job to see to it that you’re thinking clearly before you go making a fool of yourself. You’re treading on thin ice, my friend.”
Defeated, Billy let out a breath and slumped back against the marble railing. “I never met anyone like Bessie before.”
“Come on, we’ve all known each other for years.”
“Yeah, but—not like—it’s different now. She’s grown up.”
“We’ve all grown up. So, what?”
“So, she’s nice to me. Despite…you know, despite all the bullshit, she’s nice to me. She’s friendly. She…sometimes when she looks at me, I think she can see right through me. You know?”
Lawrence let out a breath and tossed his cigarette butt on the ground. “Ah, shit, Billy.”
“I couldn’t help it, I—“
“That explains everything. All your weird behavior, why you didn’t care when she came butting her nose in where it didn’t belong. You were using her to get to Zac, you kept saying—“
“I was!” Billy spat. “I was…at first. And then…I don’t know, I guess I started believing my own lies the same as she did and we…became friends, I don’t know. Then I decided to use Sue as an excuse to spend more time with Bessie—“
“But Zac—“
Billy shook his head. “Zac wasn’t coming home, I didn’t give a shit about him anymore. That was a done deal. Finally, it was—it wasn’t even about that anymore, it was just me and Bessie—all the way down to the moment we were standing in Sue’s driveway…I thought Sue was the only girl I couldn’t have, but I was wrong. I was so dead wrong.”
Lawrence cocked his head to the side. “Is that what this is? The thrill of the chase? Are you still chasing Bessie?”
“No,” Billy blurted darkly. “But I am chasing that gypsy scum right back out of town, and that is a promise. He ruined my life once already. I’ll be damned if he’s getting a second shot at me.”
“Billy,” Lawrence sighed. “The guy’s been gone a month. I think he might just want to focus on his girl and that’s it. You know? I think by now everyone’s over this whole…rivalry you have going on. Everyone except you. And you’re letting it screw with your head. You’re doing it to yourself. I mean, you already got Sue. You want Bessie, you’re trying to chase a man out of his hometown—you can’t have it all, Bill. You just can’t. You have to choose what’s the most important to you.”
“I had it all, Larry! I already did! And then that gypsy piece of shit took it all away from me! And then he’s going to come home and disturb the peace all over again? And get me in trouble with my girl? Oh, I don’t think so. He hasn’t paid, yet. But he will. So help me, God, he will.”
In Lawrence’s mind, the beating Zac took a the free picture show was probably payback enough. But he knew better than to provoke Billy in the state he was currently in. Sometimes it was better to let him get the brooding out of his system—like now. Now was one of those times.
“Look, I gotta head home,” Lawrence said as he pulled on his shirt and trousers. “If you need anything, phone me. Take Sue out tonight. That’ll make you feel better.”
“Sure, all right,” Billy muttered with a nod. “Thanks for coming over today.”
“No sweat. Anytime.”
* * *
The Connorses lived right on the border of the outskirts of town. Just in the country enough for old Stanley to have his farm just like his idol, Judge Harlow, and just in the city limits enough not to interfere with Martha’s lavish dinner parties. This, fortunately, made for a quick walk back home for Lawrence, which was located just a few neighborhoods away.
Lawrence Baker was brought up well. Maybe not as well as Billy Connors or Bessie Harlow, but Lawrence and his sisters sure weren’t raised in a barn. His father owned a shoe store in downtown Tulsa and his mother ran the register a few days a week when she wasn’t teaching piano. Unfortunately, nobody was trying to learn piano much anymore and shoe sales had slowed considerably in the past few years. Lawrence was lucky that he was able to go to college on scholarships—he wasn’t sure he could have handled being a financial burden on his parents.
Billy, on the other hand, didn’t get scholarships to go to school. His daddy paid out of his pocket for it. So how Billy still managed to be quarterback of the football team when the school was practically paying Lawrence to be on the team was beyond him. The perks of being the D. A.’s kid, he guessed. He supposed that nowadays it was about who you knew instead of what you could do.
He was trying to figure out why he was suddenly irked by that last thought as he rounded the corner and onto the next block, stopping short at the discovery he made just beyond him.
Nearly colliding with Joey Martin and his head of fiery red hair, Lawrence narrowed his eyes suspiciously, taking in his blue trousers and white, short-sleeved shirt. His eyes darted around for a moment before he finally addressed the slender guy, one year his junior. “What are you doing here, queer? This ain’t your side of town.”
Joey walked closer, his blue eyes clouding over as he tossed his cigarette to the ground. “I ain’t queer,” he replied through clenched teeth.
Lawrence cocked his head to the side and looked Joey over. “Ain’t you, though?”
To Lawrence’s surprise, the question didn’t come out as a taunt, but in pure curiosity. Lawrence, himself, was caught off guard just as much as Joey seemed to be.
Joey took a step backward, his eyes darting around uncomfortably. “Look, why don’t you just leave me alone, okay? We can forget we ever saw each other here.”
Lawrence took a step forward, narrowing his eyes. “Forget? It just so happens that forgetting is one of the very few things that I’m not so good at, if you catch my drift.”
“I gotta go,” Joey murmured as he attempted to shove past Lawrence.
Except that Lawrence managed to grab him by the elbow, keeping him stationary for the moment. A man’s skin shouldn’t have been that soft. “This ain’t over.”
Joey glared at him. “What else is new?”
“No, I mean it,” Lawrence muttered. “It’s bad enough that you’re a rat. But now Zac Hanson’s back in town and Billy ain’t happy.”
“So what if Zac Hanson’s back? What’s that got to do with me?”
“’Cause you stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong, you know damn well what it has to do with you!”
“Yeah? So go ahead and pound me, then. Go ahead and get it over with. Or do you need your boys around to witness you in all your glory?”
Lawrence’s face grew hot and he felt his grip tighten on Joey’s arm. He could do it. He could pummel this little pipsqueak into next week and nobody would be none the wiser. The little queer could rat all he wanted to, but he’d have no proof. Lawrence could finally get the revenge he wanted for being dragged into the police station for the better part of a morning.
He felt his knuckles tingle and he tightened his free hand into a fist that he hid at his side. Oh, he was going to enjoy bloodying the concrete with this guy. Billy would be ecstatic when he found out…
Wait, Billy?
Lawrence felt his grip loosen on Joey’s arm as his mind began to wander. What the hell did Billy have to gain from this kid getting pounded, anyway? He wasn’t even at the feed store that night. Nobody would believe that Billy pulled all the strings and put them up to it, there was no proof. Except for Joey Martin and he’d already ratted them out with no results. What else was left? Did he want to waste the energy to pummel the kid…for Billy? Or for himself?
Lawrence’s eyes trailed thoughtfully down the redhead’s slender, frail form and he dropped his arm forcefully. Joey’s blue eyes didn’t hide his surprise. Truthfully, Lawrence was surprised at himself.
“I’m just telling you to watch your back. As a favor.”
Joey’s face darkened. “Since when are you handing out favors?”
“Consider today your lucky day.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Or don’t watch your back. If you wanna be collateral damage, be my guest.”
“Collateral damage? In what?”
Lawrence shrugged. “Don’t know. But what I do know is that Billy’s beef with Zac ain’t quite over and something tells me it’s best not to get caught in the crosshairs…again.”
For the next few moments, the two young men silently stared each other down. Lawrence had to admit, he was surprised at Joey’s seemingly newfound bravery. He wasn’t backing down in the slightest and, for that, Lawrence felt…respect toward Joey?
Respect? For a queer? Never.
Suddenly, Joey’s shoulders squared and he took a bold step toward Lawrence. He was momentarily taken aback by the gesture as Joey’s face stopped so close to his, he could feel Joey’s hot breath brushing across his lips.
“Don’t you dare ever touch Anderson’s Feed and Seed ever again,” Joey threatened through clenched teeth. “Old Burt Anderson ain’t done nothin’ to hurt nobody, he’s old and all he wants to do is run his store and go home. What you did to that old man was wrong and you know it. I ain’t sorry for being a rat. I’m just sorry you didn’t get caught.”
Lawrence’s heart pounded against his chest and his palms broke a sweat. Suddenly beating this guy to a bloody pulp didn’t seem like quite enough. To his astonishment, he couldn’t decide what felt like quite enough. He just knew that pummeling him wasn’t it.
“It would be wise of you to get out of my face right now, I’m warning you…”
“Or what?” Joey spat.
Lawrence didn’t have an answer. So, he grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him backward, only now noticing the book that fell open on the ground as a result.
Momentarily forgetting the tense exchange, Joey scrambled to the ground to scoop the book up, but not before Lawrence got an eyeful of the partial sketch of a tree on the exposed page. If Lawrence didn’t know any better, it could have very well been a photograph.
“Hey, what’s that?” He pointed as Joey stood back up and tucked the book protectively under his arm.
“Queer stuff,” Joey snarled.
Honestly, the redhead’s venomous hatred was becoming exhausting. But he couldn’t deny the unmistakable twinge in his chest when he heard Joey refer to the drawing as “queer.” Because it wasn’t. It was…really good…
“You draw in that thing?” Lawrence muttered.
Joey adjusted the book and backed away. “None of your business.”
Lawrence smirked in amusement. “I ain’t gonna hurt it. So what’s in it?”
Joey glared at him. “Nothing a football lunkhead would know nothin’ about.”
Lawrence furrowed his brow, offended. He wasn’t a football lunkhead. Not like Billy was. Lawrence was one of the top in his class, it was part of how he’d earned his scholarships.
“Well, that’s not fair.”
“Being a bully ain’t fair, either, but it don’t stop you.”
Lawrence let out a breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’m tired of fighting with you. I’m trying to talk to you here, man-to-man—“
“Hah!”
“But every time you open that damned mouth of yours, I’m reminded of why I should give you the beating you’ve earned to begin with. Lucky for you, I’m exhausted and I got a lot on my mind. So I advise you to get yourself out of my sight before the energy suddenly finds me.”
For a moment longer, the pair stared each other down again before Joey finally started on his way and Lawrence continued on his path. Passing by the tree that Joey had been standing at when Lawrence rounded the corner, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around.
Before he could control himself, the words flew out of his mouth. “Hey! That drawing ain’t queer stuff!”
Joey stopped and turned around long enough to acknowledge him before he kept walking.
Lawrence, on the other hand, watched Joey walk away, bewildered with himself. In a matter of minutes, he let a queer run free and complimented a stupid drawing. Was he going soft now, or was there leftover pool water in his ears? One thing he did know, though, was that he was going home and not seeing the light of day until tomorrow morning. Maybe he’d sketch himself a tree or two…
TO ZAC’S RELIEF, he found Anderson’s Feed and Seed exactly the way he’d left it.
Taylor had offered to drive Zac that morning on his way into town to find a public phone, but Zac refused. He wanted to walk. He needed to walk. He needed the peace and quiet and the clean Tulsa air so he could gather all of the thoughts he needed to gather.
However, the only thought he could seem to gather was his guilt for his lackluster communication with Burt Anderson over the past month. The man had almost been like a father—or a grandfather—to Zac in the short time that he’d been working for him. Hell, by now he was practically as good as family. And sending the old man one measly letter was the thanks he got? Disgraceful. As proud as he was of the expensive jade fountain pen that occupied his pocket, he grasped the leather case of it in a fit of nerves.
What if Burt had given up on him? Or worse, forgotten about him? Would he be upset or think Zac ungrateful for not writing him more often? Had he found another loader who was stronger and more dependable than Zac was?
Suddenly, a measly fountain pen didn’t seem like enough.
Zac paused before stepping onto the property, the toes of his shoes barely grazing the edges of the grass. He’d spent several minutes of his walk with nothing to keep him company but the sound of the gravelly road beneath his feet and it had gotten so that the sound had become a comfort and he wasn’t quite ready to part with it, yet. Also, he was nervous to walk in the door and come face-to-face with Burt.
Why? He didn’t know. He’d been plenty understanding when Zac left. But as he was coming to learn, a lot happens in a month’s time. Was Burt even in there?
He was. Off to the left of the building sat Burt’s old, dilapidated 1924 Ford Model TT Pickup that Zac was surprised still had a leg to stand on—or a wheel to drive on, that was. But as was Burt’s philosophy in life, if it wasn’t broke, don’t fix it—unless it pertained to the store and generated a profit then, by all means, do all the fixing you wanted! Old Burt Anderson was a simple man, who didn’t require much more than the basics to live, but he knew what it took to run a business and made sure to stay on the up and up of all the latest developments and gadgets that might further his business.
Except for vehicles, it appeared. If Zac ever made the money he’d intended to make, he would buy Burt a new truck.
Letting out a light huff, he stepped onto the grass. One foot after the other carried him across the property and up the newly-built ramp that led to the brand new glass door. A bell rang against the glass as the metal created warmth in Zac’s palm.
“Well I’ll be dog-gonned, all the talkin’ is true, then. You really are back in town!”
Slowly, Burt stepped out from behind the counter. His blue eyes shone from behind his thick bifocals and he wore a rare smile on his rough, sun-leathered face that made Zac’s heart swell. He ignored the presence of the cane that had given him a start and crossed the old, familiar hardwood floors and wrapped the old man in a hug befitting of a son greeting his father after coming home from the war. Burt typically wasn’t much for such sentiments, but this time he didn’t object as he accepted Zac’s embrace and slapped him on the back a couple of good times.
“Here to stay,” Zac replied with a smile as he pulled away. Unable to hide his acknowledgement of the cane any longer, he looked down at it and met Burt’s eyes once again. “How’ve you been?”
“Well, I ain’t getting’ any younger, that’s for certain.”
Zac had missed old Burt’s bluntness.
“You gonna ask me about the cane or are you just gonna look at it?”
“You break a hip or something?”
At that, Burt howled in laughter and Zac was glad that he took it as the joke that he’d meant it to be. Turning around, Burt shuffled back to his stool behind the counter, supporting himself with his palm along the smooth wooden surface along the way.
“Doc says I gotta take it easy. I told him where he could shove it.”
Zac smirked. “As you carried his cane out the door with you, it appears.”
“Suppose Doc’s gotta earn his keep, you know.”
“Yeah,” Zac nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he does.”
He couldn’t help himself as he stared the old man down. He wasn’t expecting a cane or to be speaking of doctors once he returned. It had only been a month. Why did he have to take it easy all of a sudden? That wasn’t like Burt Anderson. Burt never took it easy. Quick on the books, sharp on the tongue, fast as a whip, that was Burt Anderson. But he was also over seventy. Zac supposed that eventually the age had to catch up with him. But, honestly, he thought he’d never see the day.
Speaking of the books, Zac suddenly remembered the present in his pocket and his eyes lit up. “Brought you something, Burt.”
“Pair of good arms and a strong back, I hope,” he muttered.
Zac’s smile widened, but first things were first. Pulling the leather case out of his pocket, he slid it across the counter in front of Burt and waited with childlike anticipation.
Adjusting his bifocals, Burt picked up the case. “Well, now, you didn’t have to go and do something like that.”
“Just open it. I think you might like it.”
Carefully, Burt creaked open the leather case but it was hard to read his eyes behind his bifocals. It was when Burt lifted the jade fountain pen and raised it to his eyes that Zac remembered the extra he’d had done to the pen. How could he have forgotten? Suddenly, his heart pounded for a whole new purpose.
Burt stared at it for a long agonizing moment. He flipped it around through his fingers a couple of times and he adjusted his bifocals to study it once more. Finally, he lowered it back into the case, leaving the case standing open. “Well,” he remarked softly. “It certainly is a pretty little thing. But you didn’t have to bring me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
Burt cleared his throat. “It’s right nice. It’s…it’s right nice.”
“I had it engraved, special, just for you. I thought…you know, that with that you could carry Edith with you wherever you go.”
“I already do carry my Edith with me wherever I go.” Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “But this here is something that she would have just fawned all over. I, uh, I appreciate the thought, boy. I appreciate it a whole lot.”
Zac grinned in triumph. “So you like it?”
Burt smiled back. “I do like it. Thank you.”
At that moment, the gift exchange was interrupted by a sound coming from the back. In seconds, Joey Martin emerged from the back, presumably from the loading docks, wiping his brow with a cloth. He stopped short when he saw Zac standing at the counter.
“Hey, Zac. You, uh, you coming back to work?”
“Um…”
“Yes,” Burt blurted. “Yes, he is. Starting today, as a matter of fact. I appreciate you filling in, but—“
“Burt!” Zac scolded. “Did that cane make you that cold-hearted or what?”
“And didn’t your mama ever teach you basic manners like not interrupting a man while he’s talking?” Burt snapped back. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to inform the two of you that while you started back on the loading docks, I was going to talk to Joseph, here, about commissioning him to do some painting for me around the store. I’ve seen your doodles laying around that you’ve been doodling on break and I think you’ve got a good eye. So if you wanna give yourself a few minutes to get cleaned up, I’ll be right here.”
Zac was sure that he and Joey shared the same stunned face. Joey’s eyes were wide as saucers as the cloth he held in his hand hung in midair.
“That a problem?” Burt asked Zac. “You got somewhere to be in the next couple of hours?”
“No!” Zac spat all of a sudden. “No problem at all, no…nowhere to be, I’ll…yeah, I’ll get right to it, yes, sir.”
Quickly, Zac scooted past a still-stunned Joey and into the back to tie on an apron. All the while, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. He was home. He was finally, one hundred percent home. And he couldn’t wait to take orders from that old man again.
BILLY SAT AT the diner, alone, as he waited for Sue. He had called on her, as Lawrence had suggested, to take her out and take his mind off his troubles. Unfortunately, because of the short notice, she hadn’t been home when he’d called on her and he left a note with her maid to meet him at the diner after five o’clock. It was ten after and she hadn’t arrived, yet, but that was no matter. Because, currently, the booth he sat in was directly in front of the one that Bessie Harlow and Millie Jenkins sat in and neither one of them had noticed him. Thus, he was being kept very well occupied by the conversation that they assumed couldn’t be overheard.
As he sipped his soda pop, he learned all about Taylor Hanson and the gypsy baby. The baby’s name was Lenore and Taylor and his gypsy fiancée were, what, adopting it? Into what? A travel trailer? What was it with these Hanson guys and these gypsies, anyway? Took one to know one, Billy supposed.
But Bessie gushed on and on about this baby and the way she’d been visiting for the past two days and holding the baby and feeding the baby and how excited she was over this baby—this stranger’s baby that didn’t even belong to her. Billy nearly sneered into his glass if it wasn’t for the way he imagined Bessie looking as she held a baby.
Billy couldn’t say that his parents didn’t love him, growing up. Of course they did. They were his parents. But as a family, they had never been the type for blatant displays of emotion, either. His mother rarely coddled him, his father rarely spent time with him outside of ways that he could benefit from it, and Billy spent much of his childhood more or less on his own. He didn’t resent them, though. Being on his own much of the time allowed him to learn a lot about life, he felt. He wouldn’t be the person he was today without his upbringing. And he wasn’t really a bad guy, right?
Right?
He tried not to recall the conversation he had with Bessie the day she called him a bully. People couldn’t be one hundred percent perfect, after all. Everyone had demons and everyone had skeletons. Like the ones who were fostering gypsy orphans out of wedlock.
Anyway, just because his parents weren’t the biggest showers of affection didn’t mean that Billy couldn’t appreciate a pretty woman holding a baby. He was a man, after all, a man that would someday have a family. And it was at this point that the conversation took a much more interesting turn and Billy’s ears became a little sharper.
“SPEAKING OF BABIES,” Millie said mischievously. “Word on the street is, you ran off with Zac out of town Saturday night.”
Bessie gaped at her raven-haired cousin. The diner was busy and it was loud, which made Bessie feel comfortable catching Millie up in public. But now she wished she hadn’t. Now she wished she hadn’t let her urgent desire for a hot dog and a grape soda get the best of her. Because she knew where the conversation was going. And it was not one that was appropriate to have in public.
Even more disturbing was the fact that Millie even knew at all. Nobody was supposed to know. Only Zac’s brothers knew because they wanted to know why he needed the car overnight. Bessie hadn’t dared tell a soul.
She didn’t realize that she’d been continuing her bewildered silent gaping until Millie giggled and waved a hand at her before lifting her soda glass. “All right, fine. Isaac told Judith and Judith told me.” She pouted as she sipped her drink. “I’m disappointed that you haven’t told me. I tell you everything.”
“That’s because—“ Bessie’s eyes darted around the busy diner behind Millie’s back. “Well, when you start with ‘speaking of babies—‘”
“That’s what you were doing, right?” Millie smirked. “Making babies? I bet you made at least ten with as long as he’s been gone.”
“No!” Bessie hissed. Then her shoulder slumped in defeat and she turned her glass around on the table. “We were—we were very careful. We always are.”
At that, Millie’s two blessings practically spilled onto the table as she leaned across it eagerly. “Tell me everything!”
Bessie felt herself blushing. The truth was, she was itching to tell Millie, but a part of her wanted to keep what belonged to her and Zac to herself. Their own, personal secrets, just for the two of them. But, at the same time, she’d had such a lovely time that she wanted to shout it to the world!
Crinkling her nose up, she was utterly unable to control her grin. “He took me to Claremore.”
Now Millie scrunched her own nose up, but her expression was more full of disgust. “That stinky little radium town?”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Bessie assured her with a shake of her head. “He took me to a fancy dinner and then we went to a very swanky party at the Hotel Will Rogers. He wore a tuxedo and I wore an evening gown. But don’t worry, we didn’t drink the water.”
“The hotel what?”
“Will Rogers.”
“You mean the oil guy who comes on the radio every Sunday?”
“The very same. He doesn’t own it, though, it’s just named after him. They only just built it a few years ago, I believe.”
“Enough rambling about the stupid hotel, Bessie, what happened after the swanky party?”
Bessie’s cheeks suddenly warmed. “Well…we didn’t leave the hotel.”
Millie was nearly squealing with delight. “You spent the night with Zac in a hotel?”
The memories made the warmth run through Bessie’s veins and her entire body suddenly felt like jelly. “Oh, Millie,” she sighed dreamily. “It was the most magical night of my life. I want to wake up next to him like that every single day, forever and ever.” Then she stopped and curled up her lip. “Well. Except for waking up in a panic because we nearly overslept. That wasn’t very fun.”
“You’re skipping all the good stuff!” Millie whined.
“Well…I can’t tell you everything…”
Millie’s eyes lit up. “Was it romantic? Was it rushed? Was it a passionate ravishing, unable to stay away from you a moment longer?”
“Um…” Bessie stared down at the table top with a nod. “Well, the last part certainly happened, but…opposite…”
Her cousin’s jaw dropped. “You ravished him?”
“I couldn’t help myself, it just happened! There was champagne at the party and I hadn’t seen him in a month and—and—and have you ever seen him in a tuxedo? He’s an absolute dream and I…I was very unladylike and lost control.”
Millie covered her mouth in an attempt to mask her giggles, a task at which she was failing miserably. “Bessie, you little minx, you! I never knew you had it in you! Well. There was the gypsy party incident…”
“No thanks for the reminder,” Bessie muttered.
“Well I’m sure he wasn’t complaining about your…forwardness.”
A grin crept across Bessie’s face. “He said he liked it.”
“Bessie, he’s a man. If you touch a finger to his nose, he’s gonna like it.”
“I’ve never felt so powerful before,” Bessie whispered. “When I was…controlling it all, I guess, I felt like I could conquer the world, like I was some…mighty warrior or something. I can’t describe it, it was…exhilarating!”
“That was you, becoming a woman,” Millie smiled. “That pretty Hanson boy has gone and snatched you up and turned you into a woman in the blink of an eye. I’m so proud of you, dear cousin!”
“I just want to be married to him, Millie. Right now, I want to be married to him. When I—when I sit there and I hold that little tiny baby—“
“Bessie—“
“When I hold that baby, I imagine she might be our little baby and when he holds her, it just—it makes me want to cry, I just love him so much.”
“Bessie, you can’t marry him right now. He doesn’t have—“
“I don’t care what he does or doesn’t have!” Bessie hissed in a whisper. “I have no qualms about living in that travel trailer on that gypsy camp. At least that way I can fall asleep and wake up with Zac every day and I can make his breakfast every morning and mend his shirts and take care of him like a good wife should. Like I want to.”
“Your daddy will never allow it. He’ll let you have your fun but he’ll never let you marry him.”
Bessie flipped her hair off of her shoulder haughtily. “Too bad for him that I’m a grown woman now.”
Finally, Millie shook her head and chuckled. “Look out, Tulsa. Here comes Bessie Harlow. Come on. Let’s get out of here. You haven’t even told me all the juicy details, yet.”
With a giggle, Bessie slid out of the booth and proceeded to follow her cousin away from it. She was stopped, however, by the very deliberate clearing of a throat. A very masculine throat. A throat that made her hair stand on end. How had she not noticed this throat?
She froze.
And then she carefully turned around.
Seated in the booth, his back against the empty bench that Millie had just occupied, was Billy Connors—smirking and swirling his soda pop around in his glass. “Hey, Bessie. You look nice today.”
She swallowed hard as her heart pounded. She felt her face heating up in absolute humiliation. She could see it in his stone blue eyes—there was no mistake that he’d gotten himself an earful. “Hello, Billy. Are you, um, are you waiting for Sue? Will she be along?”
His smile never wavered. “She will be, yes. But don’t worry about me, I’m plenty occupied right here.”
With a nod, Bessie’s voice barely cracked a whisper. “All right, then. Well. Have a nice evening.”
“You, too,” he replied, raising his glass.
Turning on her heel, she ducked her head and darted out of the diner. Never mind the now infamous gypsy camp incident. This may have just been the most humiliating moment of Bessie’s life.
IT WAS HOT as the blazes on that early August afternoon, but what else was new? The sun bore down brutally with no sign of a cloud, one, that might ease its wrath. The sky was as blue as it could be and Lawrence Baker’s mouth felt like sandpaper, despite all the swimming and drinking he’d been doing with his best pal.
Except that Billy wasn’t so much fun to be around this afternoon, as was the norm lately. Lawrence wasn’t sure what he expected when he received the invite to swim that morning. He supposed he expected Billy to be back to his old, cheerful self now that he’d finally gotten himself attached to Sue Wilkerson. After all, Billy had only been after that dame for a year now. He half expected Sue to be there when he showed up. But, no. It was just Billy.
The Connors’ farmhouse could really only be called a farmhouse from the outside. Or, hell, really only from the front. The inside looked like your typical modern mansion with marble flooring, crystal chandeliers, Persian rugs, and stark white furniture as far as the eye could see. Lawrence knew nothing about interior design, but even he knew that a splash of color might do the place a favor. He’d let his mind wander as he’d munched on cookies offered to him by Mrs. Connors while he waited on Billy.
Now the pair were outside on the back deck, directly underneath the onslaught of the sun, as it took no time at all to dry up the water that dripped down their bodies. Lawrence had wanted to swing from the branches down at the river, but Billy had insisted that they stay at his house and indulge in the swimming pool. Didn’t really feel like going out in public, Billy had said. Lawrence wanted to mutter something about at least investing in a slide, then, but he kept it to himself.
As Lawrence puffed on a cigarette, silently admitting that the act probably wasn’t helping his parched mouth, he eyed Billy warily. He’d seemed distracted today. Maybe even a little on edge. As males, they didn’t really like to openly discuss their personal troubles. But since Lawrence and Billy had been chums since they were small boys, they had no trouble communicating with each other. So Lawrence got right to it.
“You and your girl on thin ice or something?”
They were leaned up against the deck’s marble railing as they smoked and Billy appeared caught off guard. “What?”
“You’re miles away, have been all morning. Trouble in paradise?”
“There wasn’t,” Billy muttered, flicking his ashes. “Till Saturday.”
Lawrence nodded knowingly. He should have already guessed. Zac Hanson came home two days ago, something that Billy had been for certain would never happen. When he showed up at the governor’s picnic, there was immediate friction, despite Sue clinging desperately to Billy’s arm in her purple-stained dress. When he showed up at church with the Harlows yesterday, Lawrence kept a lookout for lightning bolts. Zac never once looked in Billy’s direction, but Lawrence had to admit that the look in Billy’s eyes made him a little uneasy. Part of his morning prayer included pleas of not having to break up a fist fight in the house of the lord.
His prayers were answered. Obviously the man upstairs wasn’t having any of it, either.
But, apparently, Billy was still brooding. Lawrence didn’t understand why. After Billy got with Sue and ended his ridiculous pursuance of Bessie Harlow, things calmed down and no mention of Zac Hanson was made again.
Except now he was back. And now it was like Billy was right back at square one.
“Tell me we’re not at this again,” Lawrence sighed. “You’re with Sue now, he’s minding his own business…”
“What, were you off taking a piss or something when he made that spectacle at the picnic?”
Lawrence’s eyes fell to the concrete as he flicked his ashes. Even a man taking a piss wouldn’t have missed that exchange. Zac was loud enough for all of Tulsa to hear. But, no, Lawrence saw the whole thing, along with everyone else. He would never admit it out loud, but he understood Zac’s apprehensiveness. If you saw your significant other being friendly with your sworn enemy, you’d be ready to fight, too. Could Zac have handled it a little more gracefully? Maybe. But at the same time, for the first time, Billy was completely innocent in the matter.
And he was apparently still brooding about it.
“No, I saw it,” Lawrence replied. “Couldn’t miss it.”
“He popped up out of nowhere and humiliated me in front of my girl! Sue got mad at me! I had to bring her flowers yesterday and everything!”
Lawrence furrowed his brow in confusion.
“She accused me of going with Bessie behind her back,” Billy continued. “She doesn’t trust me. Or, well…she didn’t then. I hope she does now.”
Lawrence suppressed a snort as he flicked his ashes on the ground. Then he looked up and studied Billy’s dark features for a moment. “Well, did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Go with Bessie behind her back?”
Billy’s expression flattened. “Come on. You know I didn’t.”
“But you tried to.”
Billy blinked at Lawrence in stunned silence.
“I mean, you said it to his face, right there in front of Sue. No wonder she got mad.”
Billy’s expression clouded over. “I was just trying to get his goat, anyone could see that! Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, naturally. But as your best friend, it’s my job to see to it that you’re thinking clearly before you go making a fool of yourself. You’re treading on thin ice, my friend.”
Defeated, Billy let out a breath and slumped back against the marble railing. “I never met anyone like Bessie before.”
“Come on, we’ve all known each other for years.”
“Yeah, but—not like—it’s different now. She’s grown up.”
“We’ve all grown up. So, what?”
“So, she’s nice to me. Despite…you know, despite all the bullshit, she’s nice to me. She’s friendly. She…sometimes when she looks at me, I think she can see right through me. You know?”
Lawrence let out a breath and tossed his cigarette butt on the ground. “Ah, shit, Billy.”
“I couldn’t help it, I—“
“That explains everything. All your weird behavior, why you didn’t care when she came butting her nose in where it didn’t belong. You were using her to get to Zac, you kept saying—“
“I was!” Billy spat. “I was…at first. And then…I don’t know, I guess I started believing my own lies the same as she did and we…became friends, I don’t know. Then I decided to use Sue as an excuse to spend more time with Bessie—“
“But Zac—“
Billy shook his head. “Zac wasn’t coming home, I didn’t give a shit about him anymore. That was a done deal. Finally, it was—it wasn’t even about that anymore, it was just me and Bessie—all the way down to the moment we were standing in Sue’s driveway…I thought Sue was the only girl I couldn’t have, but I was wrong. I was so dead wrong.”
Lawrence cocked his head to the side. “Is that what this is? The thrill of the chase? Are you still chasing Bessie?”
“No,” Billy blurted darkly. “But I am chasing that gypsy scum right back out of town, and that is a promise. He ruined my life once already. I’ll be damned if he’s getting a second shot at me.”
“Billy,” Lawrence sighed. “The guy’s been gone a month. I think he might just want to focus on his girl and that’s it. You know? I think by now everyone’s over this whole…rivalry you have going on. Everyone except you. And you’re letting it screw with your head. You’re doing it to yourself. I mean, you already got Sue. You want Bessie, you’re trying to chase a man out of his hometown—you can’t have it all, Bill. You just can’t. You have to choose what’s the most important to you.”
“I had it all, Larry! I already did! And then that gypsy piece of shit took it all away from me! And then he’s going to come home and disturb the peace all over again? And get me in trouble with my girl? Oh, I don’t think so. He hasn’t paid, yet. But he will. So help me, God, he will.”
In Lawrence’s mind, the beating Zac took a the free picture show was probably payback enough. But he knew better than to provoke Billy in the state he was currently in. Sometimes it was better to let him get the brooding out of his system—like now. Now was one of those times.
“Look, I gotta head home,” Lawrence said as he pulled on his shirt and trousers. “If you need anything, phone me. Take Sue out tonight. That’ll make you feel better.”
“Sure, all right,” Billy muttered with a nod. “Thanks for coming over today.”
“No sweat. Anytime.”
* * *
The Connorses lived right on the border of the outskirts of town. Just in the country enough for old Stanley to have his farm just like his idol, Judge Harlow, and just in the city limits enough not to interfere with Martha’s lavish dinner parties. This, fortunately, made for a quick walk back home for Lawrence, which was located just a few neighborhoods away.
Lawrence Baker was brought up well. Maybe not as well as Billy Connors or Bessie Harlow, but Lawrence and his sisters sure weren’t raised in a barn. His father owned a shoe store in downtown Tulsa and his mother ran the register a few days a week when she wasn’t teaching piano. Unfortunately, nobody was trying to learn piano much anymore and shoe sales had slowed considerably in the past few years. Lawrence was lucky that he was able to go to college on scholarships—he wasn’t sure he could have handled being a financial burden on his parents.
Billy, on the other hand, didn’t get scholarships to go to school. His daddy paid out of his pocket for it. So how Billy still managed to be quarterback of the football team when the school was practically paying Lawrence to be on the team was beyond him. The perks of being the D. A.’s kid, he guessed. He supposed that nowadays it was about who you knew instead of what you could do.
He was trying to figure out why he was suddenly irked by that last thought as he rounded the corner and onto the next block, stopping short at the discovery he made just beyond him.
Nearly colliding with Joey Martin and his head of fiery red hair, Lawrence narrowed his eyes suspiciously, taking in his blue trousers and white, short-sleeved shirt. His eyes darted around for a moment before he finally addressed the slender guy, one year his junior. “What are you doing here, queer? This ain’t your side of town.”
Joey walked closer, his blue eyes clouding over as he tossed his cigarette to the ground. “I ain’t queer,” he replied through clenched teeth.
Lawrence cocked his head to the side and looked Joey over. “Ain’t you, though?”
To Lawrence’s surprise, the question didn’t come out as a taunt, but in pure curiosity. Lawrence, himself, was caught off guard just as much as Joey seemed to be.
Joey took a step backward, his eyes darting around uncomfortably. “Look, why don’t you just leave me alone, okay? We can forget we ever saw each other here.”
Lawrence took a step forward, narrowing his eyes. “Forget? It just so happens that forgetting is one of the very few things that I’m not so good at, if you catch my drift.”
“I gotta go,” Joey murmured as he attempted to shove past Lawrence.
Except that Lawrence managed to grab him by the elbow, keeping him stationary for the moment. A man’s skin shouldn’t have been that soft. “This ain’t over.”
Joey glared at him. “What else is new?”
“No, I mean it,” Lawrence muttered. “It’s bad enough that you’re a rat. But now Zac Hanson’s back in town and Billy ain’t happy.”
“So what if Zac Hanson’s back? What’s that got to do with me?”
“’Cause you stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong, you know damn well what it has to do with you!”
“Yeah? So go ahead and pound me, then. Go ahead and get it over with. Or do you need your boys around to witness you in all your glory?”
Lawrence’s face grew hot and he felt his grip tighten on Joey’s arm. He could do it. He could pummel this little pipsqueak into next week and nobody would be none the wiser. The little queer could rat all he wanted to, but he’d have no proof. Lawrence could finally get the revenge he wanted for being dragged into the police station for the better part of a morning.
He felt his knuckles tingle and he tightened his free hand into a fist that he hid at his side. Oh, he was going to enjoy bloodying the concrete with this guy. Billy would be ecstatic when he found out…
Wait, Billy?
Lawrence felt his grip loosen on Joey’s arm as his mind began to wander. What the hell did Billy have to gain from this kid getting pounded, anyway? He wasn’t even at the feed store that night. Nobody would believe that Billy pulled all the strings and put them up to it, there was no proof. Except for Joey Martin and he’d already ratted them out with no results. What else was left? Did he want to waste the energy to pummel the kid…for Billy? Or for himself?
Lawrence’s eyes trailed thoughtfully down the redhead’s slender, frail form and he dropped his arm forcefully. Joey’s blue eyes didn’t hide his surprise. Truthfully, Lawrence was surprised at himself.
“I’m just telling you to watch your back. As a favor.”
Joey’s face darkened. “Since when are you handing out favors?”
“Consider today your lucky day.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Or don’t watch your back. If you wanna be collateral damage, be my guest.”
“Collateral damage? In what?”
Lawrence shrugged. “Don’t know. But what I do know is that Billy’s beef with Zac ain’t quite over and something tells me it’s best not to get caught in the crosshairs…again.”
For the next few moments, the two young men silently stared each other down. Lawrence had to admit, he was surprised at Joey’s seemingly newfound bravery. He wasn’t backing down in the slightest and, for that, Lawrence felt…respect toward Joey?
Respect? For a queer? Never.
Suddenly, Joey’s shoulders squared and he took a bold step toward Lawrence. He was momentarily taken aback by the gesture as Joey’s face stopped so close to his, he could feel Joey’s hot breath brushing across his lips.
“Don’t you dare ever touch Anderson’s Feed and Seed ever again,” Joey threatened through clenched teeth. “Old Burt Anderson ain’t done nothin’ to hurt nobody, he’s old and all he wants to do is run his store and go home. What you did to that old man was wrong and you know it. I ain’t sorry for being a rat. I’m just sorry you didn’t get caught.”
Lawrence’s heart pounded against his chest and his palms broke a sweat. Suddenly beating this guy to a bloody pulp didn’t seem like quite enough. To his astonishment, he couldn’t decide what felt like quite enough. He just knew that pummeling him wasn’t it.
“It would be wise of you to get out of my face right now, I’m warning you…”
“Or what?” Joey spat.
Lawrence didn’t have an answer. So, he grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him backward, only now noticing the book that fell open on the ground as a result.
Momentarily forgetting the tense exchange, Joey scrambled to the ground to scoop the book up, but not before Lawrence got an eyeful of the partial sketch of a tree on the exposed page. If Lawrence didn’t know any better, it could have very well been a photograph.
“Hey, what’s that?” He pointed as Joey stood back up and tucked the book protectively under his arm.
“Queer stuff,” Joey snarled.
Honestly, the redhead’s venomous hatred was becoming exhausting. But he couldn’t deny the unmistakable twinge in his chest when he heard Joey refer to the drawing as “queer.” Because it wasn’t. It was…really good…
“You draw in that thing?” Lawrence muttered.
Joey adjusted the book and backed away. “None of your business.”
Lawrence smirked in amusement. “I ain’t gonna hurt it. So what’s in it?”
Joey glared at him. “Nothing a football lunkhead would know nothin’ about.”
Lawrence furrowed his brow, offended. He wasn’t a football lunkhead. Not like Billy was. Lawrence was one of the top in his class, it was part of how he’d earned his scholarships.
“Well, that’s not fair.”
“Being a bully ain’t fair, either, but it don’t stop you.”
Lawrence let out a breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’m tired of fighting with you. I’m trying to talk to you here, man-to-man—“
“Hah!”
“But every time you open that damned mouth of yours, I’m reminded of why I should give you the beating you’ve earned to begin with. Lucky for you, I’m exhausted and I got a lot on my mind. So I advise you to get yourself out of my sight before the energy suddenly finds me.”
For a moment longer, the pair stared each other down again before Joey finally started on his way and Lawrence continued on his path. Passing by the tree that Joey had been standing at when Lawrence rounded the corner, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around.
Before he could control himself, the words flew out of his mouth. “Hey! That drawing ain’t queer stuff!”
Joey stopped and turned around long enough to acknowledge him before he kept walking.
Lawrence, on the other hand, watched Joey walk away, bewildered with himself. In a matter of minutes, he let a queer run free and complimented a stupid drawing. Was he going soft now, or was there leftover pool water in his ears? One thing he did know, though, was that he was going home and not seeing the light of day until tomorrow morning. Maybe he’d sketch himself a tree or two…
TO ZAC’S RELIEF, he found Anderson’s Feed and Seed exactly the way he’d left it.
Taylor had offered to drive Zac that morning on his way into town to find a public phone, but Zac refused. He wanted to walk. He needed to walk. He needed the peace and quiet and the clean Tulsa air so he could gather all of the thoughts he needed to gather.
However, the only thought he could seem to gather was his guilt for his lackluster communication with Burt Anderson over the past month. The man had almost been like a father—or a grandfather—to Zac in the short time that he’d been working for him. Hell, by now he was practically as good as family. And sending the old man one measly letter was the thanks he got? Disgraceful. As proud as he was of the expensive jade fountain pen that occupied his pocket, he grasped the leather case of it in a fit of nerves.
What if Burt had given up on him? Or worse, forgotten about him? Would he be upset or think Zac ungrateful for not writing him more often? Had he found another loader who was stronger and more dependable than Zac was?
Suddenly, a measly fountain pen didn’t seem like enough.
Zac paused before stepping onto the property, the toes of his shoes barely grazing the edges of the grass. He’d spent several minutes of his walk with nothing to keep him company but the sound of the gravelly road beneath his feet and it had gotten so that the sound had become a comfort and he wasn’t quite ready to part with it, yet. Also, he was nervous to walk in the door and come face-to-face with Burt.
Why? He didn’t know. He’d been plenty understanding when Zac left. But as he was coming to learn, a lot happens in a month’s time. Was Burt even in there?
He was. Off to the left of the building sat Burt’s old, dilapidated 1924 Ford Model TT Pickup that Zac was surprised still had a leg to stand on—or a wheel to drive on, that was. But as was Burt’s philosophy in life, if it wasn’t broke, don’t fix it—unless it pertained to the store and generated a profit then, by all means, do all the fixing you wanted! Old Burt Anderson was a simple man, who didn’t require much more than the basics to live, but he knew what it took to run a business and made sure to stay on the up and up of all the latest developments and gadgets that might further his business.
Except for vehicles, it appeared. If Zac ever made the money he’d intended to make, he would buy Burt a new truck.
Letting out a light huff, he stepped onto the grass. One foot after the other carried him across the property and up the newly-built ramp that led to the brand new glass door. A bell rang against the glass as the metal created warmth in Zac’s palm.
“Well I’ll be dog-gonned, all the talkin’ is true, then. You really are back in town!”
Slowly, Burt stepped out from behind the counter. His blue eyes shone from behind his thick bifocals and he wore a rare smile on his rough, sun-leathered face that made Zac’s heart swell. He ignored the presence of the cane that had given him a start and crossed the old, familiar hardwood floors and wrapped the old man in a hug befitting of a son greeting his father after coming home from the war. Burt typically wasn’t much for such sentiments, but this time he didn’t object as he accepted Zac’s embrace and slapped him on the back a couple of good times.
“Here to stay,” Zac replied with a smile as he pulled away. Unable to hide his acknowledgement of the cane any longer, he looked down at it and met Burt’s eyes once again. “How’ve you been?”
“Well, I ain’t getting’ any younger, that’s for certain.”
Zac had missed old Burt’s bluntness.
“You gonna ask me about the cane or are you just gonna look at it?”
“You break a hip or something?”
At that, Burt howled in laughter and Zac was glad that he took it as the joke that he’d meant it to be. Turning around, Burt shuffled back to his stool behind the counter, supporting himself with his palm along the smooth wooden surface along the way.
“Doc says I gotta take it easy. I told him where he could shove it.”
Zac smirked. “As you carried his cane out the door with you, it appears.”
“Suppose Doc’s gotta earn his keep, you know.”
“Yeah,” Zac nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he does.”
He couldn’t help himself as he stared the old man down. He wasn’t expecting a cane or to be speaking of doctors once he returned. It had only been a month. Why did he have to take it easy all of a sudden? That wasn’t like Burt Anderson. Burt never took it easy. Quick on the books, sharp on the tongue, fast as a whip, that was Burt Anderson. But he was also over seventy. Zac supposed that eventually the age had to catch up with him. But, honestly, he thought he’d never see the day.
Speaking of the books, Zac suddenly remembered the present in his pocket and his eyes lit up. “Brought you something, Burt.”
“Pair of good arms and a strong back, I hope,” he muttered.
Zac’s smile widened, but first things were first. Pulling the leather case out of his pocket, he slid it across the counter in front of Burt and waited with childlike anticipation.
Adjusting his bifocals, Burt picked up the case. “Well, now, you didn’t have to go and do something like that.”
“Just open it. I think you might like it.”
Carefully, Burt creaked open the leather case but it was hard to read his eyes behind his bifocals. It was when Burt lifted the jade fountain pen and raised it to his eyes that Zac remembered the extra he’d had done to the pen. How could he have forgotten? Suddenly, his heart pounded for a whole new purpose.
Burt stared at it for a long agonizing moment. He flipped it around through his fingers a couple of times and he adjusted his bifocals to study it once more. Finally, he lowered it back into the case, leaving the case standing open. “Well,” he remarked softly. “It certainly is a pretty little thing. But you didn’t have to bring me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
Burt cleared his throat. “It’s right nice. It’s…it’s right nice.”
“I had it engraved, special, just for you. I thought…you know, that with that you could carry Edith with you wherever you go.”
“I already do carry my Edith with me wherever I go.” Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “But this here is something that she would have just fawned all over. I, uh, I appreciate the thought, boy. I appreciate it a whole lot.”
Zac grinned in triumph. “So you like it?”
Burt smiled back. “I do like it. Thank you.”
At that moment, the gift exchange was interrupted by a sound coming from the back. In seconds, Joey Martin emerged from the back, presumably from the loading docks, wiping his brow with a cloth. He stopped short when he saw Zac standing at the counter.
“Hey, Zac. You, uh, you coming back to work?”
“Um…”
“Yes,” Burt blurted. “Yes, he is. Starting today, as a matter of fact. I appreciate you filling in, but—“
“Burt!” Zac scolded. “Did that cane make you that cold-hearted or what?”
“And didn’t your mama ever teach you basic manners like not interrupting a man while he’s talking?” Burt snapped back. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to inform the two of you that while you started back on the loading docks, I was going to talk to Joseph, here, about commissioning him to do some painting for me around the store. I’ve seen your doodles laying around that you’ve been doodling on break and I think you’ve got a good eye. So if you wanna give yourself a few minutes to get cleaned up, I’ll be right here.”
Zac was sure that he and Joey shared the same stunned face. Joey’s eyes were wide as saucers as the cloth he held in his hand hung in midair.
“That a problem?” Burt asked Zac. “You got somewhere to be in the next couple of hours?”
“No!” Zac spat all of a sudden. “No problem at all, no…nowhere to be, I’ll…yeah, I’ll get right to it, yes, sir.”
Quickly, Zac scooted past a still-stunned Joey and into the back to tie on an apron. All the while, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. He was home. He was finally, one hundred percent home. And he couldn’t wait to take orders from that old man again.
BILLY SAT AT the diner, alone, as he waited for Sue. He had called on her, as Lawrence had suggested, to take her out and take his mind off his troubles. Unfortunately, because of the short notice, she hadn’t been home when he’d called on her and he left a note with her maid to meet him at the diner after five o’clock. It was ten after and she hadn’t arrived, yet, but that was no matter. Because, currently, the booth he sat in was directly in front of the one that Bessie Harlow and Millie Jenkins sat in and neither one of them had noticed him. Thus, he was being kept very well occupied by the conversation that they assumed couldn’t be overheard.
As he sipped his soda pop, he learned all about Taylor Hanson and the gypsy baby. The baby’s name was Lenore and Taylor and his gypsy fiancée were, what, adopting it? Into what? A travel trailer? What was it with these Hanson guys and these gypsies, anyway? Took one to know one, Billy supposed.
But Bessie gushed on and on about this baby and the way she’d been visiting for the past two days and holding the baby and feeding the baby and how excited she was over this baby—this stranger’s baby that didn’t even belong to her. Billy nearly sneered into his glass if it wasn’t for the way he imagined Bessie looking as she held a baby.
Billy couldn’t say that his parents didn’t love him, growing up. Of course they did. They were his parents. But as a family, they had never been the type for blatant displays of emotion, either. His mother rarely coddled him, his father rarely spent time with him outside of ways that he could benefit from it, and Billy spent much of his childhood more or less on his own. He didn’t resent them, though. Being on his own much of the time allowed him to learn a lot about life, he felt. He wouldn’t be the person he was today without his upbringing. And he wasn’t really a bad guy, right?
Right?
He tried not to recall the conversation he had with Bessie the day she called him a bully. People couldn’t be one hundred percent perfect, after all. Everyone had demons and everyone had skeletons. Like the ones who were fostering gypsy orphans out of wedlock.
Anyway, just because his parents weren’t the biggest showers of affection didn’t mean that Billy couldn’t appreciate a pretty woman holding a baby. He was a man, after all, a man that would someday have a family. And it was at this point that the conversation took a much more interesting turn and Billy’s ears became a little sharper.
“SPEAKING OF BABIES,” Millie said mischievously. “Word on the street is, you ran off with Zac out of town Saturday night.”
Bessie gaped at her raven-haired cousin. The diner was busy and it was loud, which made Bessie feel comfortable catching Millie up in public. But now she wished she hadn’t. Now she wished she hadn’t let her urgent desire for a hot dog and a grape soda get the best of her. Because she knew where the conversation was going. And it was not one that was appropriate to have in public.
Even more disturbing was the fact that Millie even knew at all. Nobody was supposed to know. Only Zac’s brothers knew because they wanted to know why he needed the car overnight. Bessie hadn’t dared tell a soul.
She didn’t realize that she’d been continuing her bewildered silent gaping until Millie giggled and waved a hand at her before lifting her soda glass. “All right, fine. Isaac told Judith and Judith told me.” She pouted as she sipped her drink. “I’m disappointed that you haven’t told me. I tell you everything.”
“That’s because—“ Bessie’s eyes darted around the busy diner behind Millie’s back. “Well, when you start with ‘speaking of babies—‘”
“That’s what you were doing, right?” Millie smirked. “Making babies? I bet you made at least ten with as long as he’s been gone.”
“No!” Bessie hissed. Then her shoulder slumped in defeat and she turned her glass around on the table. “We were—we were very careful. We always are.”
At that, Millie’s two blessings practically spilled onto the table as she leaned across it eagerly. “Tell me everything!”
Bessie felt herself blushing. The truth was, she was itching to tell Millie, but a part of her wanted to keep what belonged to her and Zac to herself. Their own, personal secrets, just for the two of them. But, at the same time, she’d had such a lovely time that she wanted to shout it to the world!
Crinkling her nose up, she was utterly unable to control her grin. “He took me to Claremore.”
Now Millie scrunched her own nose up, but her expression was more full of disgust. “That stinky little radium town?”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Bessie assured her with a shake of her head. “He took me to a fancy dinner and then we went to a very swanky party at the Hotel Will Rogers. He wore a tuxedo and I wore an evening gown. But don’t worry, we didn’t drink the water.”
“The hotel what?”
“Will Rogers.”
“You mean the oil guy who comes on the radio every Sunday?”
“The very same. He doesn’t own it, though, it’s just named after him. They only just built it a few years ago, I believe.”
“Enough rambling about the stupid hotel, Bessie, what happened after the swanky party?”
Bessie’s cheeks suddenly warmed. “Well…we didn’t leave the hotel.”
Millie was nearly squealing with delight. “You spent the night with Zac in a hotel?”
The memories made the warmth run through Bessie’s veins and her entire body suddenly felt like jelly. “Oh, Millie,” she sighed dreamily. “It was the most magical night of my life. I want to wake up next to him like that every single day, forever and ever.” Then she stopped and curled up her lip. “Well. Except for waking up in a panic because we nearly overslept. That wasn’t very fun.”
“You’re skipping all the good stuff!” Millie whined.
“Well…I can’t tell you everything…”
Millie’s eyes lit up. “Was it romantic? Was it rushed? Was it a passionate ravishing, unable to stay away from you a moment longer?”
“Um…” Bessie stared down at the table top with a nod. “Well, the last part certainly happened, but…opposite…”
Her cousin’s jaw dropped. “You ravished him?”
“I couldn’t help myself, it just happened! There was champagne at the party and I hadn’t seen him in a month and—and—and have you ever seen him in a tuxedo? He’s an absolute dream and I…I was very unladylike and lost control.”
Millie covered her mouth in an attempt to mask her giggles, a task at which she was failing miserably. “Bessie, you little minx, you! I never knew you had it in you! Well. There was the gypsy party incident…”
“No thanks for the reminder,” Bessie muttered.
“Well I’m sure he wasn’t complaining about your…forwardness.”
A grin crept across Bessie’s face. “He said he liked it.”
“Bessie, he’s a man. If you touch a finger to his nose, he’s gonna like it.”
“I’ve never felt so powerful before,” Bessie whispered. “When I was…controlling it all, I guess, I felt like I could conquer the world, like I was some…mighty warrior or something. I can’t describe it, it was…exhilarating!”
“That was you, becoming a woman,” Millie smiled. “That pretty Hanson boy has gone and snatched you up and turned you into a woman in the blink of an eye. I’m so proud of you, dear cousin!”
“I just want to be married to him, Millie. Right now, I want to be married to him. When I—when I sit there and I hold that little tiny baby—“
“Bessie—“
“When I hold that baby, I imagine she might be our little baby and when he holds her, it just—it makes me want to cry, I just love him so much.”
“Bessie, you can’t marry him right now. He doesn’t have—“
“I don’t care what he does or doesn’t have!” Bessie hissed in a whisper. “I have no qualms about living in that travel trailer on that gypsy camp. At least that way I can fall asleep and wake up with Zac every day and I can make his breakfast every morning and mend his shirts and take care of him like a good wife should. Like I want to.”
“Your daddy will never allow it. He’ll let you have your fun but he’ll never let you marry him.”
Bessie flipped her hair off of her shoulder haughtily. “Too bad for him that I’m a grown woman now.”
Finally, Millie shook her head and chuckled. “Look out, Tulsa. Here comes Bessie Harlow. Come on. Let’s get out of here. You haven’t even told me all the juicy details, yet.”
With a giggle, Bessie slid out of the booth and proceeded to follow her cousin away from it. She was stopped, however, by the very deliberate clearing of a throat. A very masculine throat. A throat that made her hair stand on end. How had she not noticed this throat?
She froze.
And then she carefully turned around.
Seated in the booth, his back against the empty bench that Millie had just occupied, was Billy Connors—smirking and swirling his soda pop around in his glass. “Hey, Bessie. You look nice today.”
She swallowed hard as her heart pounded. She felt her face heating up in absolute humiliation. She could see it in his stone blue eyes—there was no mistake that he’d gotten himself an earful. “Hello, Billy. Are you, um, are you waiting for Sue? Will she be along?”
His smile never wavered. “She will be, yes. But don’t worry about me, I’m plenty occupied right here.”
With a nod, Bessie’s voice barely cracked a whisper. “All right, then. Well. Have a nice evening.”
“You, too,” he replied, raising his glass.
Turning on her heel, she ducked her head and darted out of the diner. Never mind the now infamous gypsy camp incident. This may have just been the most humiliating moment of Bessie’s life.