Behind the Pine Curtain (16 page)

“I’ll touch base with you on Thursday and let you know my plans.”

“Fair enough. Now, is there anything you need me to take care of here for you? I know you thought you’d only be gone a couple of days.”

“No. There’s nothing. You might give Christopher a call. I think this was the weekend he was going to come visit.”

“Of course. Well, keep me posted, please. And hurry back. Cheryl’s planning a dinner party for the weekend after next. She’ll expect you to be there.”

“Sure.” But the thought of one of Cheryl’s dinner parties was enough to make her want to stay in Pine Springs. She enjoyed the informal cookouts that Ingrid arranged, but Cheryl’s tended to be dress-up affairs with people Jacqueline had little in common with. And of course, there was always the one single woman that Cheryl invariably invited to keep Jacqueline company. And, she admitted, on more than one occasion, she had taken advantage of that, because sometimes it beat going home alone. Sometimes.

Despite everything that had happened, she felt somewhat relaxed. So, to keep her mind off the impending reading of the will, she pulled a lounge chair into the sun and sat on Kay’s deck, her laptop humming as she worked on the new novel she’d started. Surprisingly, she was able to focus and before she knew it, the afternoon was upon her. She stood, stretching her back and neck, then brought everything inside. She still needed to go to the grocery store, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d work right through the afternoon.

She bought enough to restock Kay’s bare pantry and fridge, enough for several meals, as well as some breakfast items. Perhaps she would get up early in the morning and surprise Kay.

“Next thing you know, you’ll be making her lunch for her,” she murmured.

“Excuse me?”

Jacqueline blushed as the checkout girl stared at her. “Talking to myself.

Sorry.”

After Jacqueline had everything put away, her eyes lighted on the bottles of wine. She still had ideas flying through her mind. She should work. And she worked much better with a glass of wine. But she was in Pine Springs, and it was three thirty in the afternoon. And she knew Kay wouldn’t like it. Hell, her husband was an abusive drunk, so who could blame her. She settled on iced tea, adding an obscene amount of sugar before she had it just right.

She actually was on a roll. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her mind clear. Ingrid would be pleased. But at five, she made herself stop, hating the interruption but she wanted to have dinner started before Kay got home.

As she prepared the chicken breasts, she did indeed open a bottle of wine. Earlier, she’d sorted through Kay’s limited CD collection, finally settling on something familiar, an old Bruce Springsteen. She moved around the kitchen, the Boss blasting from the stereo as she prepared dinner. Nothing elaborate, but not pizza, either. Fresh asparagus that she would steam, a wild rice pilaf and chicken. Simple, yet elegant. She rummaged through drawers, finding cloth placemats and napkins, which she guessed were seldom used. She set the table, bringing in a couple of candles from the living room as a centerpiece.

“Not bad.” Then it occurred to her that Kay might think it was some sort of a seduction dinner. The candles, wine.
Jesus, you’re going to
scare the poor girl to death
. Then she looked down at herself. Jeans and T-shirt were hardly the clothes for a seduction dinner. She shrugged.

Maybe lose the candles.

But she ran out of time. She heard the garage door go up, heard the kitchen door open.

“Jackie?”

Jacqueline grinned, listening as Kay moved about in the kitchen.

“God, that smells good.”

Jacqueline walked in, leaning against the counter as Kay opened the oven door and peered inside. Jacqueline couldn’t stop herself as her eyes followed Kay’s length as she bent over.
Such a guy
.

“You really
can
cook.” Then she spotted the wineglass still half full and raised an eyebrow. “Started without me?”

“Just barely. Would you like one?”

“Please.”

Kay walked closer, pausing beside Jacqueline. Then, to Jacqueline’s surprise, Kay leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks for cooking.”

Jacqueline felt the blood rush to her face. “The least I could do. I mean, you’re giving me a place to stay.”

“Ah. But that’s been my pleasure.” Kay moved away, giving Jacqueline some space. “Let me change.”

Jacqueline reached for her glass of wine as soon as Kay left the room.

Idiot.

“Wow. The table looks nice,” Kay called over the music.

Jacqueline went into the living room, turning down the volume. Yeah, the table looked nice. Nothing fancy. Hell, she wouldn’t even need to light the candles. She shook her head. Kay was her friend. She needed to get over this silly crush. Actually, what she should really do is tell Kay and then they could have a good laugh about it. But she doubted Kay would laugh. Kay would most likely feel responsible for all this, for Jacqueline leaving, for the abandonment. And she would wonder why Jacqueline hadn’t said anything earlier, when they could have talked about it and sorted through it all. Well, as Jackie had said, she’d been scared. Hell, she was still scared. But, now that she was older, she understood that Kay would never have stopped being friends with her, just like she wouldn’t now. They would deal with it. And go on.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jacqueline realized that she was still standing there, staring at the table, lost in thought. “I . . . well, I thought that maybe . . . well, you know, candles and wine. I thought maybe you might think it was some sort of . . . seduction.”
Damn
.

“Is it?” Kay asked quietly.

Jacqueline’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not.”

Kay only smiled, squeezing Jacqueline’s arm as she walked past. She returned with both their glasses of wine and handed one to Jacqueline.

“Did you write today?”

“Yeah, I did. It was a good day.”

“Can I see?”

“Oh,” Jackie stared. “No.”

“No?”

Jackie shook her head. “You can read my outline, if you want. It’s rather lengthy. But the chapters that I have so far, no.”

“Do you ever let anyone read them before they’re finished?”

“The first one, yeah. Christopher read it as I went, then Ingrid. I learned my lesson. I can’t write on demand, and they expected me to churn out pages each day. So now, no.”

“How does it feel to write something, knowing that after it’s published, thousands of people will read it?”

“I don’t think of it that way. When I’m writing, I’m really writing for me. I don’t hesitate over words, afraid I may offend someone if I word it one way or the other. I don’t think about someone’s reaction to it, I’m just trying to weave a story together.”

Kay drew her into the living room. “I really did enjoy all your books.

Your depiction of the south and the small towns was right on. I’m surprised. You’ve been gone so long. I can’t believe that while you were here, you were gathering all this information and locking it inside.”

Kay relaxed on the sofa and Jacqueline followed, both putting their feet up on the coffee table.

“You’d be surprised at how much I remember. A lot of it was just being at the café and listening. The old-timers would come in and tell stories, remember? Or they’d sit with their spouse of fifty years and talk about the same thing, over and over again. And they knew exactly what the other’s answers would be and when they’d laugh.” Jacqueline smiled, thinking of one couple in particular. She couldn’t remember their names, but he always wore overalls and a flannel shirt, no matter the time of year. She would wear slacks, and Jacqueline remembered some of the others talking about her as if she’d committed a horrible crime.

“Remember the old couple, the guy that wore overalls all the time?”

“Yeah. Mr. and Mrs. Arnold.”

“That’s them. I couldn’t think of their name,” Jacqueline said. “Anyway, remember how they’d sit there and talk, and she’d pretend to be surprised by something he said, and you and I had heard him saying the same thing the week before and the week before that.”

“Oh, yeah. They were married sixty-two years when he died. She was just devastated. Sixty-two years, Jackie. She probably couldn’t recall a time in her life that he hadn’t been in it.”

“I don’t suppose she’s still around?”

“No. She passed on not even a year after him. It was sad. Their only son had been killed in Vietnam. The only other family lived over in Crockett. After he died, they wanted to put her in a nursing home, but she refused. She wanted to stay here, where they’d lived together all those years. And she got around okay, but ladies from the church would go by, make sure she had meals and clean and do laundry for her. But she just wasted away, you know? Like she didn’t want to be here without her husband.”

“Do you ever wonder if you’ll have that with someone? That deep, lasting love that only death can separate?”

Kay shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope I have that bond with someone, someday. I used to think . . .” She closed her eyes.
Don’t go there
.

“What?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” She cleared her throat. “What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Kay. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt close to, you know. When we were younger, I used to think that I could read your thoughts and you mine,” Jacqueline admitted. She met Kay’s eyes.

“And we were just friends. I don’t know if I’ll ever find that with a lover. Obviously, so far, I’ve not met anyone.”

Kay held her eyes. Jacqueline had just spoken the words that Kay had been afraid to voice. The only person she’d ever felt a bond with was Jacqueline. She wondered what would have happened if Jackie had stayed? She wondered if they would have become closer. Would they have become lovers? Strangely, that thought was not at all unsettling to her.

Jacqueline stood, taking Kay’s empty glass. “I need to start the asparagus.” Then she stopped. “You like asparagus, right?”

“Yes, although I doubt you’re going to boil it in bacon drippings until it’s limp,” Kay said with a smile.

“Please don’t say that’s how your mother makes it. That would be a sin.”

“
Everything
is cooked in bacon drippings, don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I do. And I can’t say I’ve missed it. Although the green beans your mother gave me yesterday were mighty tasty,” Jacqueline called from the kitchen.

Kay wrapped her arms around herself, so very glad that Jacqueline was back. She hadn’t felt this happy since, well, since Jackie had left. But, she warned herself, Jackie would be leaving again. She still found it amazing that they had this . . . this connection between them. She doubted seriously she would ever find it with someone else. And she was certain she would never find it with a man. Her husband, for instance. She hadn’t even liked him as a friend. Why did she think she could be married to him? And what if he hadn’t turned out to be such an asshole? Would they still be married? Would they have children by now? God, just the thought brought an ache to her heart. Perhaps she should be thankful he’d beat her. At least then, she had reason to divorce him. What if he’d turned out to be a nice guy? But that wasn’t fair. If he’d been a nice guy, maybe she would have loved him.

She turned, watching Jackie walk back into the room with two full wineglasses. She was a beautiful woman. But, Kay admitted, she’d always been attractive. Her blond hair and blue eyes had attracted her share of the boys in high school, but Jackie never gave them a second look. Only Daniel. Of course, Kay knew now it was because Jackie was gay and wasn’t interested in boys. And Daniel had been forced on her.

And, as it turned out, she had been forced on Daniel.

“It won’t be much longer. Are you hungry?”

“Yes. I skipped lunch.”

“Why?”

“Mrs. Cartwright didn’t work today. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“I didn’t know you had help during the week,” Jacqueline said. She resumed her seat on the sofa, handing Kay her glass. “How many employees do you have?”

“Just the two. Mrs. Cartwright has been with me since I opened. I rely on her a lot. She’s widowed and doesn’t mind working Saturdays. So, I usually have the weekend. Frannie is a senior now, and she’s planning on going off to college, so I guess I’ll be looking for someone else after summer.”

“You really love it here, don’t you?”

Kay shrugged. “It’s home. It’s familiar.”

“And you’re content.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, I’ve grown to love this house. It’s mine, at least. And, I make a comfortable living.”

“But?”

“But?” Kay sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. There should be more, I think. I mean, I’m happy, yes. Happy enough. But, years from now, will it still be enough?”

“You’re only thirty-three. Way too young to be an old maid,”

Jacqueline teased.

“I really can’t see myself marrying again, Jackie. The first one was so disastrous, but that’s not the only thing. I just don’t
see
it.”

“You see yourself being alone?”

“I have this fear that Rose is going to send Lee Ann to live with me, and we’ll grow old together, she shipping me off to a nursing home eventually.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why do you think I’m spoiling her so much?”

“You’ll meet someone.”

“You think so? I know nearly everyone in this town and trust me, there is none I want to be with. And, it’s not like new people move here, you know. No, I think I’m destined to be alone. I had my shot and I failed.”

“The men in this town don’t know what they’re missing then. You’re beautiful, smart. Hell, you own your own business. You’re a good catch.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be caught.”

“One strike and you’re out?”

“It’s not just that, Jackie. I knew, that day in the church when we were saying our vows that it wasn’t right, that it wasn’t what I wanted. But, I didn’t see an alternative. I was young and working at the café. What future did I have?”

“And look at you now.”

“Yeah. A success story,” Kay said dryly, not able to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.