Firebird (The Flint Hills Novels) (9 page)

The ice cream parlor was now open, but Eliana was so humiliated she refused to go in. They walked home, got Charlie's car and drove into Strong City to the supermarket, where they bought two half gallons of ice cream, some chocolate syrup and milk, and Annette rode the grocery cart down the sloped parking lot with Eliana in the basket. Annette laughed so hard she nearly peed in her pants and Eliana completely forgave her mother for the scene in Hannah's Cafe.

Others, however, were not so forgiving. Patti Boswell was Katie Anne Mackey's best friend, and by the end of the day Ethan Brown had been told the entire episode, slightly exaggerated. Ethan, however, who thought Patti a dolt, silently laughed while pretending righteous indignation to his fiancée. He made a mental note to ask Annette Zeldin what she had said to them in French.

Chapter 11

Katie Anne wanted to be married in white leather pants, a white fringed shirt and a white cowboy hat, but her mother would not hear of it. Consequently, Katie Anne talked of nothing else. Ethan was quite used to tuning her out on such occasions, and when they walked into the South Forty Friday evening and looked up to see Patti waving to them from the bar, Ethan knew what was in store for him. He stomped the snow off his boots and looked around for Jer.

"Said he had a date," volunteered Whitey, who was leaning against the bar next to Patti.

"You're kiddin' me," replied Ethan.

"No, sir."

"With whom?"

"Wouldn't say."

Whitey was Katie Anne's regular dance partner. Ethan, who disliked few people, disliked Whitey. The fact that his slight five-foot-seven frame moved with sprightly agility around the dance floor and that he was particularly fond of white dress shirts with his jeans made Ethan suspect a touch of fey in his character. He had told this to Katie Anne and she had laughed at him, accusing him of jealousy.

They got their beers and joined their friends, already seated at a booth in the corner. The guys argued K.U.'s chances of going to the Orange Bowl that year; the girls talked of Katie Anne's wedding. Ethan, being a K.U. alum and Katie Anne's fiancé, was partner to both conversations, and he slid easily in and out of each with the same agility Whitey displayed on the dance floor. Ethan was a fine conversationalist. The same man who impressed his clients with his breadth of legal knowledge and the state politicians with his persuasive and articulate arguments against federal management of the Flint Hills also was at ease in the superficial and limited arena of conversation that flowed around this same booth every Friday night at the South Forty, where trucks outnumbered cars six to one in the parking lot and country-and-western music was only a little less sacred than the word of God.

But something unusual happened this evening: Ethan became acutely aware of the tedium of the conversation. Something hovered in the air, a cloud of discontent that had been growing since the evening he had asked Katie Anne to marry him. The thought of committing once again to married life had a strange effect on him. He found himself growing irritated with Katie Anne over little things, the things he normally tolerated with humor. He had always been a master at hiding his more unseemly emotions behind his twinkling brown eyes, but tonight those eyes wandered around the room with a bored, unsettled gaze. When Katie Anne asked him what was wrong, he answered that he was looking for Jer.

"Jer's got a date," she reminded him.

"I wonder with whom."

"Can't you say 'Who with?' like other people?" she teased, and dived back into the sea of chatter.

A man more in tune with his feelings might have suspected that his discontent had as much to do with the specter of Mrs. Zeldin as with anything else. Like all men of his culture and upbringing, even the ones of exceptional intelligence like Ethan, he viewed women like Mrs. Zeldin with a faint air of contempt. Women's liberation may have altered their social condition but it had very little effect on the way most men in these parts viewed women. Those like Mrs. Zeldin—sophisticated, talented and successful—did not tread the earth with a light step.

Consequently, when Ethan looked up and saw Jer approaching their booth with Annette Zeldin at his side, the earth trembled.

"Oh, shit," hissed Patti. "He better not bring her over here. He wouldn't dare do that."

"Sure he would," countered Whitey, who was eager to meet the acclaimed terror.

"I won't sit at the same table with that bitch," snarled Patti. "If he brings her over here..."

They approached slowly, stopping to chat with Jer's pals, who sidled up to him, eager for an introduction to the beautiful stranger. Ethan was struck by Annette's ease and graciousness as Jer introduced her to one man after another. She wore a loose, silky white blouse unbuttoned provocatively low and tucked into a black slim skirt that, although not as short as the swinging dance skirts worn by Katie Anne and Patti, molded her hips and thighs and accentuated the sensuality of her slow, unhurried movements.

Jer seemed to be under a spell. He guided Annette through the crowd to their table with a tender protectiveness he normally reserved for his animals. Ethan caught his eye and threw him a "What the hell?" look, which Jer pretended to ignore. He eagerly introduced her to everyone at the table. Annette smiled warmly at Patti, and if she recognized her from the restaurant she gave no sign of it. Patti, however, was not so gracious. When Ethan asked them to move down to make more room in the booth, Patti, suddenly engrossed in low conversation with Katie Anne, pretended not to hear. Jer settled the impasse by seating Annette on the bench next to Ethan and drawing up a chair for himself at the end of the table. There were furtive glances and whispers, then, with an abruptness both rude and obvious, Patti hauled her partner out to the dance floor, and Katie Anne tugged at Ethan. Ethan, however, staunchly refused to budge.

"You know I never dance," he replied audibly to Katie Anne's strident urging.

"Well, you can do it this once."

"Where's Whitey?"

"Dancing with Patti."

"Then stay here with me."

"I will not," she whispered emphatically in his ear. She rose and stormed off. Jer, who had been looking around for their waitress while the exodus had taken place, turned back and noticed the nearly empty table.

"Where'd everybody go?"

Ethan gestured to the dance floor.

"Oh," Jer mumbled. "What'll you have to drink? I'll go to the bar to get it," he said.

"Whatever you're having," replied Annette. She smiled warmly at him, which only aggravated his nervousness.

"Be right back," he said.

Annette and Ethan sat stiffly in each other's presence for a moment. Neither of them wished to remark on the unpleasant incident that had just transpired. Ethan felt some kind of apology was in order but he normally dealt with unpleasantness by ignoring it. As such, he found himself at a rare loss for words. Annette finally broke the silence.

"Jer's offered to give Eliana riding lessons."

"Jer's a good man."

"Yes, he is."

"I was a little surprised to hear you'd decided to stay."

"Just until spring."

"I bet that made Charlie happy."

"I think it did."

"It must have been a tough decision."

"It wasn't, not really."

"If things get a little slow for you, you know where to find the local library."

"I haven't forgotten your book," she said apologetically. "I need to return it."

"There's no rush. But you might want to come in and apply for a card."

Annette wasn't sure if he was joking, and her confusion drew a laugh from Ethan.

"What's so funny?" asked Jer as he sat down and placed a beer in front of Annette. Annette, who didn't like beer, smiled and thanked him.

"I've got her thinking my office is the town library."

Jer grinned. "Hell, Ethan's got more books than Strong City. Only he don't lend 'em out." Jer shook his head emphatically. "Gettin' a book out of Ethan's harder 'n pullin' a tick out of a mad dog." Annette stole a questioning glance at Ethan, who was examining the sticky rings on the table. "Ethan got his Ph.D. from Yale. Had one of those big scholarships. What d'ya call it?"

"Fulbright," mumbled Ethan.

"He got an offer to teach at Berkeley."

"Teach what?" asked Annette.

"Nineteenth and early twentieth century English and Irish lit. The poets mainly," offered Ethan, finally warming, but only reluctantly, to the conversation.

"Wordsworth."

Ethan nodded and returned her smile. "And Yeats." It was the first time their eyes had met since that moment on the hillside several weeks before.

They were both silent. Ethan played absentmindedly with his beer glass. Annette stared at the back of someone's head at the table in front of them. Jer, who misinterpreted their silence as animosity, searched for something to say and came up blank.

"And did you?" asked Annette.

"Did I what?"

"Go to Berkeley."

Ethan shook his head. "I was homesick."

"So he threw it all in and came back here and went to law school at K.U. Finished in... how many years was it?"

"You were homesick?" asked Annette.

"What was it, two years instead of three?" pursued Jer.

"I was homesick."

"Wasn't it two years?"

"Two and a half."

Ethan was so acutely uncomfortable he seized upon the first thought that rattled through his brain.

"Would you like to dance, Mrs. Zeldin?"

Annette opened her mouth to refuse, but hesitated and then said very softly. "I would, thanks."

Jer watched them move onto the dance floor with a relieved smile. He was glad to see them warming toward each other. He had been a little afraid to tell Ethan about his date, knowing how he felt about her.

Once on his feet, Ethan's senses returned to him. He took Annette by the hand and she followed him to the DJ's booth, where Ethan exchanged a few brief words with his friend. As they moved onto the floor the music suddenly segued into a slow dance.

"There. That'll make it a little less painful for you," said Ethan as he took her in his arms. Annette laid her hand on his shoulder. Underneath the wool flannel shirt was hard muscle. It had been many years since she had felt such strength in a man. His heat was tremendous. She felt it float over her as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"You don't dance and you don't lend books," she said, rather more soberly than she had intended. She looked up into his face.

He replied, not as lightly as he would have wished, "That's right, ma'am," and tightened his arm around her.

* * *

Ethan was saved from the consequences of his rash behavior by a series of fortunate incidents. At just the moment he and Annette rose from the table to dance, Katie Anne and Patti left the dance floor for the ladies' room, and when they came out Whitey caught them in the hallway and proposed they all go over to the Denim and Diamonds, where Whitey's favorite band was playing. By the time they had reached an agreement, Ethan was back and sitting alone at the table and Jer was dancing with Annette. Ethan left with Katie Anne and the crowd. Later that night his thoughts kept winding back to the image of Annette and Jer together, and it struck him that he was jealous.

Chapter 12