Kentucky Sunrise (25 page)

Read Kentucky Sunrise Online

Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Kentucky Sunrise
12.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Spoken like a true mother.” Hatch grinned.
His words so pleased Nealy she reached up and kissed him.
“Now, now, none of that. That leads to other things, and I have to head for the airport.” Nealy wiggled her butt as she sashayed over to the shower. Hatch groaned.
 
 
Nealy argued with herself all the way into town.
Do I really want to do this? No. Should I do it? Yes. Why? Because it's time to deal with
that.
In fact, it's way past time to deal with
that.
She'd searched the Yellow Pages after Hatch left for the airport and called three different psychiatrists. She asked for an appointment and was told there had been a cancellation and she could be seen at 1:30, the first appointment of the afternoon. She'd agreed.
It was a medical building in the heart of town. It looked like any other building that housed insurance companies, stockbrokers, or travel agencies. Dr. Elizabeth Shay's office was on the fourth floor.
Nealy climbed out of the car and walked across the parking lot to the front entrance of the building. Inside, she walked to the elevator and stopped, turned around, and walked back to the front door, where she stopped again. She took a deep breath and retraced her steps to the elevator. She pressed the UP button and gulped air again just as the elevator door slid open. Her shaky index finger jabbed at the number 4.
It was a quiet floor. Since she was ten minutes early, she walked down the hall looking at the names on the different office suites. Dr. Leland McEvoy and underneath, Urologist. Farther down was Dr. Anthony Bella, an obstetrician. Across from Dr. Bella was Dr. Nolan Prentice who was an ENT and an audiologist. At the opposite end of the hallway there were only two suites, Dr. Elizabeth Shay and Dr. Monica Lupinsky who was a dermatologist.
A tiny bell, barely audible, could be heard when she opened the door. The waiting room was small but cozy and warm. Current magazines lay on the table along with a bowl of colorful hard candies. A luscious orchid plant rested in one corner. The paintings were subdued watercolors. A meadow full of daisies, a beach scene with tranquil water lapping at the shoreline, and a third painting of an apple tree loaded with bright red apples. The apples looked so real she wanted to reach up and pick one. Instead she sat down and waited.
A young woman appeared quietly with a clipboard. “Fill out both forms, and I'll need your insurance card to photocopy.” Nealy complied and waited.
Ten minutes later the door opened, and the woman said, “Doctor Shay will see you now, Mrs. Littletree.”
She'd been hoping for an older woman, a more motherly-looking person. This fashionable woman, who was half her age, surely wouldn't be able to help her. She looked so chic, just like her fast-track attorney, Clementine Fox, with her designer suits and pricey high-end shoes. “You're so young,” she blurted. Elizabeth Shay smiled, and it was suddenly all right.
“I'm Liz and you're Nealy. Is that all right with you?” Nealy nodded. “Now tell me why you're here.”
Nealy looked down at her hands. “Because . . . of jealousy, fear, a dream, my daughter, my husband, the horses, and, of course, guilt. So much guilt.”
“Where would you like to start, Nealy?”
Nealy smiled. “I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. I hope you have a lot of time.”
“I have all the time in the world, Nealy. You were born. Then what happened?”
 
 
When Nealy walked out of the psychiatrist's office fifty minutes later she didn't know if she felt better or worse. Her throat felt scratchy from talking so much, and her eyes itched. She wanted to cry, but she fought the hot, threatening tears that were forming in her eyes. This was not going to be easy, that much she now knew. Well, if Emmie could bare her soul to a shrink, how could she do less?
The late-afternoon sunshine cast a glare on the beige console of her car, causing it to reflect on the windshield. She continued to sit, staring out the window. Why wasn't she starting up the car? Why wasn't she heading back to Blue Diamond Farms?
Because I don't want to go there now. I don't know why I don't want to go there. I just don't.
What should she do? Where should she go? Should she just sit and think about the past fifty minutes? She could do that back at the farm on the front porch. Or upstairs in the room she shared with Hatch.
What was it Liz Shay had said? “Don't expect me to give you answers. You're going to have to work to find those answers, Nealy. I'll guide you, that's my job. Your job is to be truthful and honest and delve into the past that you buried so deep you're going to need several shovels to unearth it all. I'll be with you every step of the way, but you're the one who is going to do all the work. We're going to start this very afternoon. Can you commit to this?” Of course she had said yes.
But did she really want to do it? Or did she
need
to do it? Maybe what she really needed to do was to go shopping. Women always went shopping when things overwhelmed them. If they didn't shop, then they drank tea. Maybe she could buy something and stop for a cup of tea. It sounded like a half-baked plan, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment. She put the car in gear, looked to the right and the left before she pulled out onto the highway. She drove several blocks before she found a parking spot.
The clock on Guerrin's Pharmacy said it was 4:59. The stores would be closed in an hour. Shopping in a drugstore was just as good as shopping in a department store. You could buy suitcases, cameras, and toilet paper in a drugstore these days. Hatch needed shaving cream and deodorant. She could use a new hairbrush. Toothpaste was always a good thing to buy in a drugstore. Shampoo was something else she could stock up on.
She was pleased to see the long soda counter where hot dogs, sandwiches, and coffee were sold. A sign said they sold nine different kinds of ice cream. The big question was, did they sell tea? One-stop shopping. Tea with lemon or milk? It seemed at the moment like a horrific decision.
Forty-seven dollars later, Nealy carried her shopping bag to the counter and sat down. A perky youngster in a yellow tee shirt and cut-off shorts bounced up to the counter. “Can I help you, ma'am?”
Ma'am. People used to call Maud Diamond ma'am. Ma'am meant you were old.
“Yes. I'd like a cup of tea.”
“Lemon or milk?”
Here it was, the big question she'd been dreading. She eyed the three sugar donuts under a glass dome. “Plain. Three sugars.” Ah, the world was looking brighter.
She felt a presence and looked up. “Nealy. You're the last person I expected to see in here. I know you don't want me to sit down next to you, but I'm going to sit down anyway. We need to talk, and this is as good a place as any. I was on my way out to the farm to pick up Emmie when I saw you come in here. It's a good thing, because Gabby needs some more Mister Bubble.”
Dillon Roland sat down next to her. He placed the package with the Mister Bubble on the counter in front of him.
Nealy swiveled on the stool to stare into the man's eyes. The man she hated with every fiber in her body. “You're the last person on this earth I want to sit next to, Dillon. You aren't spying on me, are you?”
“No, I'm not spying on you, and I know I'm the last person in the world you want to sit next to. I've wanted to talk to you for years, really talk to you. That time you came to my office you were loaded for bear. It wasn't the time then because I was still doing all the things my father demanded of me. Just hear me out, Nealy, and I'll never subject you to my presence again. Just hear me out. Ten minutes. Eight if I talk fast. Surely you can give me eight minutes of your valuable time.”
Nealy eyed the huge clock over the back of the counter. She could see powdered sugar on the oak frame.
The girls must dust the donuts under the clock,
she thought. “Okay, Dillon, eight minutes.” She pointed to the clock. Dillon nodded.
“Let's get right to it. I can never excuse what I did or said way back then. Look, I was just a young kid of seventeen just like you were. I had a father that was demanding just the way yours was. The truth is, I think he was worse. I loved you back then, Nealy. You were the sunshine in my life. Those poems I wrote to you were from my heart to your heart. Back then I didn't know what to do. Call me gutless, a coward, whatever you want. I won't deny it. I was all those things and maybe more. I didn't think about you, what it was like for you. My mind couldn't accept it. I just thought about myself and what my father would do.” He paused and checked the clock. “I never once measured up in his eyes. God knows I tried and tried. Jesus, my life was hell, and so was yours. Don't you remember how we told each other all our secrets and how being together for those little bits of time made it all better? At least for a little while.
“Some small part of me, the decent part, wants to believe I would have done something for you at some point in time. I thought about you all the time, day and night, wondering how you were, what you were doing. That shotgun business, that was bravado. Hell, we didn't even own a shotgun. I know it was worse for you. Much worse. If there was a way to unring the bell, I would.
“I finished school and got married to someone my father approved of. She came from an incredibly wealthy family. My father adored money. Actually, the man worshiped it. It wasn't a happy marriage. I had many affairs over the years. So did my wife. After our sons were born, we lived separate lives. I know now that I was looking for you in every woman I met. No, no, don't say anything. My children are worthless human beings. It pains me to say this, but it's true. My wife spoiled them and so did my father. None of them has worked a day in his life, and I don't expect that will ever change. They never call, and I never see them. Their trust funds will outlive them.
“When Emmie called me that night it was like my whole world turned around. I love her, Nealy. You did a good job raising her. She and Gabby are the sunshine in my life these days. I don't ever want to lose that. They're the reason I want to get up in the morning. No, I don't want your horses. I don't want anything from you. I never wanted one of your horses for myself. I wanted one for my father. Back then, I was still seeking his approval. When I finally realized I would never get it, I quit trying. I did love you, Nealy, with all my heart. If I close my eyes, even now, after all these years, I can still remember how you smelled, how you laughed, how good you felt in my arms, how your eyes would shine when I read one of my poems to you. At night I would lie awake in bed and ache for you. Then I'd get up and write a poem for you. Look,” he said, pulling a tattered notebook out of his inside breast pocket. “I kept this in my car for years and years and never took it out until Emmie came into my life. When I saw you come in here, I went back to the car to get it. The dates are on the poems. I'm giving this to you so you can understand me a little better. I waited a long time to say these things to you. My shoulders feel better already.
“People can and do change. I know I have. Have a nice evening, Nealy. I have to get back so Gabby can have her Mister Bubble bath. Thanks for letting me talk to you like this. I won't bother you again.”
Nealy watched him walk away. She looked up at the clock, but she couldn't remember what time it had been when Dillon sat down. Her teacup was empty, her shopping bag on the stool next to her. She sighed, then reached for the notebook Dillon had left on the counter and stuffed it in her purse.
Her head high, her eyes burning, Nealy left the drugstore that smelled of licorice and talcum powder and walked to her car.
 
 
“Hi, Dad, I'm home! Gabby! Where are you guys?” Emmie called out.
“I'm getting Gabby ready for bed, Emmie,” her father called down from the top of the steps. “I picked up dinner from Chow Li's. It's in the warming oven. Gabby ate a little while ago.”
“Okay, I'll set the table and then I'll be right up.” Emmie smiled as she went about setting the table for two. When she finished, she took the steps two at a time and swooped down on her daughter to roughhouse for a few minutes. “Love you, love you, love you,” she said, burying her face in Gabby's neck. The little girl giggled. “Okay, two pages of
Puff the Magic Dragon,
and then it's time for sleep.”
“Three pages, Mommy. Please read three pages.”
“Okay, but only because I love you.” She winked at her father, who knew full well the little girl would be sound asleep by the end of page one. Cookie was already asleep at the foot of the bed.
“Are you ready, Gabby?”
“Yes, yes, yes, I'm ready.”
“Close your eyes and here we go. Page one of
Puff the Magic Dragon . . .”
An hour later, Emmie pushed back her chair. “I have a nice ripe melon, Dad, would you like some?”
“Sounds good. I'll pour the coffee. By the way I met your mother in town today, at the drugstore. We talked for a little while. That's not quite true; I talked, but she did listen. I feel like a load of bricks has been taken off my shoulders. I could be wrong, but I think your mother might be feeling the same way.”

Other books

Leader of the Pack by Lynn Richards
Shackleton's Heroes by Wilson McOrist
The Coral Tree by Joyce Dingwell
The Plot by Kathleen McCabe Lamarche
Home Ranch by Ralph Moody
12 The Family Way by Rhys Bowen