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Authors: Carolyn Brown

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She looked up at black clouds rolling in from the southwest. An omen for sure that she’d made bad decisions and the storm they would bring would be disastrous. “Go away. I’m too mad to talk.”

“Can I call you and we can discuss it more later when you aren’t mad?” he whispered.

“No,” she said bluntly.

“I’ll give you a couple of days to think and try anyway,” he said.

“Just leave. Don’t call and don’t ever show your face in my beer joint again. Good-bye, Hank or Hayes, whoever the hell you are. I don’t even know you.” She turned to watch the storm. She couldn’t watch him leave. She couldn’t let him stay. All of it hurt too damn bad to bear.

“You knew Hank better than anyone ever has,” he said. Walking away from her without holding her in his arms, burying his face in her hair, and tasting her lips was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

When she was sure he was gone, she slid down the back of the garage and hid her face in her hands. Cars and trucks left the parking lot but she didn’t hear them. Everything was obliterated by one sentence that played over and over again: “I’m Henry Hayes Radner Wells.”

The gaping hole in her chest where her heart had been that morning was a yawning abyss filled to the brim with pain. She’d never felt so alone in her life. Sharlene sat down beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t say a single word, which Larissa appreciated more than all the speeches in the universe.

Larissa wanted to cry. She wanted to cuss, rant, and rave like a lunatic, throw things, kick holes in the garage, yank up mesquite trees by the roots and throw them all the way to Dallas at the almighty Radner Corporation. But none of it would come out; it stayed inside and ate at her soul like fiery acid.

***

Hank got into his black BMW and laid his head on the steering wheel. He’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He should have told her before the meeting and then left the whole thing to his mother and Wayne. He’d handled it in the most juvenile, stupid way possible and he felt like the fool that he was.

He looked up when he felt a presence in the open window. Hoping to see Larissa, even if she was still angry, he turned his head to find Luther’s big round face not ten inches from him.

“That was one dim-witted stunt,” Luther said.

Hank nodded. “Yes, it was.”

“Rissa has been my friend since the first time I set foot in this place. I thought you were a stand-up man. I was wrong. You get this one on the house. You show up here again, I will wipe this parking lot up with your sorry hide. Understood?” Luther said seriously.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, Luther. I didn’t plan on the deer hitting my truck. I damn sure didn’t plan on falling for her,” he admitted.

“Sometimes it’s too late to do what you should’ve done from the beginning. Guess you’ve learned a tough lesson. Still don’t give you any right to come sniffing around, though, so go on back to Dallas and let her heal. You done her dirty. I shouldn’t give you another chance but I believe you.”

When Luther moved Merle was right behind him. “I knew it. You are just a drugstore cowboy. She deserves the real McCoy. What are you going to do about this, Hank or whoever the hell you are?”

“There’s not much I can do. I goofed. I’ll take my pride and my mistakes and leave her alone. Take care of her,” he said hoarsely and hit the button to roll the window up.

Merle shook her head from side to side and scanned the parking lot for Larissa. As Hank pulled out of the parking lot, she headed toward the garage. She found Larissa with her head in her hands and Sharlene sitting beside her.

Sharlene touched her fingers to her lips. Merle sat down on the other side, took Larissa’s hand in hers, and waited.

Thoughts darted through Larissa’s mind like feisty children on a school playground at recess—with no intention of slowing down or staying put long enough for her to get a handle on them. One second she was angry, the next sad. But when it boiled down to the kernel of the matter, she was bewildered.

What right do you have to be mad at him other than he made a complete fool out of you? You weren’t up-front and honest with him either. But my dishonesty wouldn’t have hurt him like his did me. So he’s Hank Wells in Palo Pinto County and he’s Hayes Radner in Dallas. Two people. That’s what I am. I like Larissa Morley and she’s happy here in Mingus. So happy that I’d almost forgot about that other one.

Crying was a sign of weakness and she would not be weak. She’d found her niche in life in a peaceful community and in the Honky Tonk. She would not let one crazy day or one cowboy destroy all that she’d discovered. She
was
Larissa Morley all the time now. He
was
Hayes Radner for the next eleven months. Those two people didn’t know each other and wouldn’t like each other if they did.

It was over.

She raised her head, swallowed twice, and said, “Let’s go drink a beer and get ready to open up the Honky Tonk tonight. We’re going to have a record number tonight. The saints will be joining the sinners just to talk about Hank Wells turning out to be Hayes Radner.”

“That’s my girl,” Merle said.

The Honky Tonk parking lot was empty and the beer joint as quiet as a tomb when the three women trooped inside. Merle and Larissa sat on bar stools and Sharlene popped the tops off three beers. She tipped hers up and gulped down a third of it before she came up for air with a healthy burp.

Words exploded from Sharlene’s mouth like a bull let loose from a chute at a rodeo. “God Almighty that shocked the shit right out of me. Who’d have thought Hank was Hayes. Guess Hank was named for his dad, Henry, and got tagged with the nickname. I thought for sure he would be the cowboy that would carry you off on a big white horse. All goes to show what I know. I’d do better to write fiction. Maybe I will start that book, Larissa. This is horrible. Can I do anything to make it better?”

Larissa shook her head.

“Well, I told you he wasn’t a real cowboy. I was about to amend my decision there toward the end and think my first impression wasn’t right but I won’t doubt myself no more,” Merle said.

“Thank you both for your support.” Larissa tilted the bottle up but had trouble swallowing even the smallest sip of beer. Her cell phone rang and she flipped it open.

“Hello,” she said.

“Larissa, I can’t think of anything but how sorry I am,” Hank said.

“Wait a minute,” she said.

“Hank?” Sharlene mouthed.

Larissa nodded and motioned toward the cash register. “Hand me a dollar bill.”

Hank yelled into the phone. “Larissa, are you there?”

“I said for you to wait a minute,” she said coldly.

She fed the money into the jukebox and hit the right buttons. Jo Dee Messina’s voice came through singing “My Give a Damn’s Busted.”

“Listen to every word and then hang up. I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say. Don’t call. Don’t come around. I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again.” She laid the phone down on the top of the jukebox and went back to her beer.

When the song ended she waited a few seconds before going back to the jukebox and picking up the phone again. “I guess he got the message. He’s gone.”

“That song is perfect,” Sharlene said.

“There’s a country song for every mood or problem in the world,” Merle said. “Like George Strait and Alan Jackson sing about in that one about murder being committed on music row. George says that nobody wants to listen to them old drinkin’ and cheatin’ songs. Well, if they would, they’d hear life being sung. I got to go home, girls. Y’all need me, you call. I’ll be back here in a little bit. You want me to put out a contract on him?” Merle finished off her beer.

“No, he ain’t worth it,” Larissa lied with tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Go ahead and cry. Get it out and over with,” Merle said.

“He’s not worth it,” Larissa repeated even though she didn’t believe a word of it.

Hank Wells was worth it but Hayes Radner had taken over her cowboy. She’d fallen for Hank Wells who was trustworthy and decent. He was kind and sweet. Hayes Radner was a different man. What she knew about him, she didn’t like.

Chapter 12

Larissa peeked out the fish-eye in the hotel door, sighed, and opened it. She’d hoped for half an hour to get ready for her mother but she was there and she had no choice.

She slung open the door and stood to one side. “Hello, Mother.”

Doreen flowed into the room with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. She stopped to air kiss Larissa on the cheek and kept going until she reached the overstuffed recliner beside the window. She sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and smiled. “You look like hell. Only a man can make a woman look so horrid. What’s his name?”

“And you look like your usual young, lovely self.” Larissa picked up a bottle of expensive water from the top of the entertainment system, twisted the top off, and downed half of it. Her mother’s red hair was short this time and framed her perfectly oval face in springy curls. Crow’s feet were beginning to play around her eyes. Was that bit of flesh under her chin a wee bit saggy? Oh, dear, was Doreen going to look her age?

“Don’t be bitchy with me because you’ve got man problems, darlin’,” Doreen said in her sweetest Southern accent.

Larissa blushed at her unkind thoughts. “Sorry, Mother. How was your trip?”

Doreen’s smile was brilliant. “Lovely. And I can’t wait until you meet Rupert, but we’ll save conversation about him until later. Please tell me you’ve given up this crazy notion of living in a pigsty and you’ve gone back to Perry where you belong.”

“Can’t. It would be a lie and besides, I like my pigsty. The mud is warm and the food trough is always full,” Larissa answered.

Doreen sighed.

“I painted my house turquoise with hot pink and yellow trim. It reminds me of those in the islands,” Larissa said. “I brought a picture of it and the Honky Tonk.”

“I’m not sure I can stand to look at them. Why would you turn your back on everything? It doesn’t make sense. How can you do what you are doing when you could have a decent lifestyle? You know how we always loved that little café on the Rue de la Bastille and all those other nice places.”

Larissa remembered talking with Hank about that very café. They would have been good together in their
other
lives. She as the rich heiress to her grandfather’s fortune and Hank as his mother’s son. But those lives had been left behind when they’d become Hank and Larissa.

She shrugged. “It makes perfect sense to me. I’m starving. I worked last night and had a piece of cold pizza for breakfast at noon. Let’s have lunch at that little café downstairs and then go shop until dark,” Larissa said.

“Now that sounds like a plan. I’ve asked Rupert to meet us for a late dinner at the Five Sixty in Reunion Tower. You’re going to like him—I promise,” Doreen said.

Larissa finished off the water, made sure she had a room card, and held the door for her mother. “I didn’t bring a thing for the fundraiser. Is it very formal?”

“Black tie. Tux. I’d say long, slinky, and black. My friend has a son I’m dying for you to meet. He’s handsome, educated, and would be a fine catch. We’ll shop for something for you to wear to dinner tonight too,” Doreen said.

Larissa pushed the down elevator button. “I’m not interested in anyone. I’ve just come out of a bad relationship.”

Doreen shivered. “What better way to get over it than to meet someone new. You look more like your father every day, Larissa.”

“And where is my father?” Larissa asked as they stepped into the glass elevator that moved slowly to the ground floor.

Doreen brushed imaginary lint from her silk pant outfit. It was the same shade of emerald green as her eyes and sported a diamond brooch with a center stone that glittered in the light flowing through the spotless elevator glass. “We’ll talk about your father over lunch.”

Larissa jerked her head around to look at her mother. The door opened and several people waited to get on the elevator but she couldn’t move.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“I expect it’s time. I’d rather have this conversation over a table as in an elevator with people watching and listening,” Doreen said softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Larissa said.

She and her mother moved out and to the right to the café where they were seated immediately at a corner table. Larissa looked over the menu the waitress brought and waited for her mother to begin.

“I’m having the southwest salad without croutons and a glass of white wine.” Doreen handed the waitress the menu.

“Chicken fried steak with all the trimmings. Same wine as Mother ordered,” Larissa said.

“This is your mother?” the waitress asked.

“Yes, ma’am, it is. She had me when she was barely two years old. It was a miracle,” Larissa said.

“Y’all are teasing me,” the waitress laughed. “You aren’t even kin. Just good friends out for a weekend of fun. No way you two are related.”

“You are right,” Larissa said. Biologically they were mother and daughter. Doreen had birthed her at the age of twenty and then left her in the care of her grandparents and a nanny for the rest of her life. They really were more like friends than close kin folks.

“Okay, you’ve bugged me for years about your father. I guess it’s time I came clean. I lied. Now let’s have dinner and forget all about it.”

Larissa shot her a look. “That’s not nearly enough. Talk, Mother.”

“That looked just like him,” Doreen laughed.

“And?”

Doreen sighed. “Okay, I never married your father. It was a college fling and I really didn’t want to have you but my mother caught me upchucking in the bathroom too many mornings. I told her not to worry; I wasn’t going to ruin the family name, that I was going to take care of it as soon as I found a doctor.”

Larissa’s face turned ashen.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. I didn’t do it but I might have if Mother and Father hadn’t ganged up on me. According to them that would have been covering one big mistake with another. There might be a time when I wanted children and an abortion could have long-term effects as in problems having another child. So I went to Italy to study for a year and when I came home it was with you in tow. The story was that Daddy paid the father off and we’d gotten a divorce. It was an easy one to stick to when you started asking questions. I figured either he or Mother would tell you when you got older.”

Larissa shook her head. “Go on.”

“You look like him. You didn’t get a blessed thing from me. Not my hair or eyes or build. He had jet-black hair, brown eyes, and was lean and trim. Never had to watch how many beers he drank or how much he ate. Worked out in the gym all the time and played ball. Listened to that horrid country music.”

“His name?” Larissa asked.

“Can’t we just leave it alone at that?”

“No, Mother, I want to know his name.”

The waitress set their food before them. “Enjoy your meal. Shall I get you another glass of wine?”

“No, I’m fine,” Doreen said.

“Maybe a glass of water with lemon,” Larissa said.

Doreen forked a small bite of tomato into her mouth. She hadn’t spoken that man’s name in almost thirty years. The only time she ever thought about him was when she made a trip to Perry to see her family.

“His name was Lawrence Morleo. Nickname Larry. We called him Morley most of the time. I named you Larissa so there would be a little of him in you. Your middle name was for my grandmother but you know that.”

“Morleo isn’t Indian. It sounds Hispanic.” Hells bells, no wonder she could never locate the man. She’d been looking for Morley instead of Morleo.

“It is. His father was about a quarter Mexican or maybe even less but the Morleo name had come on down through that line. His mother was the Indian. He came to OSU on an athletic scholarship. We had a fling. I went to Italy. I suppose he went home. I never saw him again.”

“Lawrence Morleo. Spell it?”

Doreen did very slowly. “So now what? Are you going to hate me? I didn’t put his name on the birth certificate because I didn’t want you to know. What are you going to do?”

“Find him, eventually. But today we are going to eat this good food, go shopping, meet Rupert, shop some more tomorrow, and go to a fundraiser tomorrow evening. Life goes on and you don’t have to know what or if I find out anything.” Larissa was suddenly even hungrier and dipped heavily into the mashed potatoes.

“Thank you. I don’t want to know. I don’t want Rupert to know either so keep whatever you find to yourself. Thank you for not hating me and for understanding,” Doreen said.

“I didn’t say that. I don’t understand any of it but I don’t hate you. Eat your salad, Mother. We’ve got to find me something all fancy for tomorrow night,” Larissa said.

Doreen smiled brightly. “You’ll look fabulous and my friend’s son is going to drool when he sees you.”

Larissa put up a hand. “Not interested. Especially if he’s a moron who drools. God, Mother, I live in a small town but there’s lots of men folks who’d be happy to take me out and not a one of them drools.”

Doreen’s giggle was high pitched. “I didn’t mean that he was mentally challenged.”

“If he’s so damned fine and good looking, then why isn’t he a notch on your bedpost?” Larissa asked.

“Because he’s been too young for me until now. Because his mother is one of my best friends and that would make a mess. And besides, I’m in love with Rupert,” Doreen said.

“For real?” Larissa could hardly believe her ears.

“I think so.”

“And what does Rupert do? Is he a trainer at a gym or a lifeguard at a five-star hotel pool?” Larissa asked sarcastically.

Doreen giggled. “I won’t even fight with you over that barb. I might have deserved it. But I’m not telling you a thing about Rupert. I’ll let it be a surprise.”

***

“How about this?” Doreen held up a black slinky dress with spaghetti straps and a drooping neckline.

Larissa held up a bright red satin with rhinestone straps and a sparkly spray at the hemline.

Doreen snarled and wiggled the black one.

Larissa shook her head and picked up a coffee colored silk with side slits up to her panty line.

Doreen rolled her eyes and held up a leopard print silk with black satin straps.

Larissa carried it to the dressing room. It fit her like it had been custom-made instead of an off-the-rack and she liked the side slit lined in the same black satin as the straps. Add a pair of strappy high heeled sandals and a little black satin evening bag and she’d be ready. She stepped out of the dressing room and Doreen clapped her hands.

“Please let me buy that for you. It’s perfect with your skin color and eyes. It doesn’t look ready-made and it doesn’t need a single alteration. Black high heeled sandals, a black purse, my big diamond necklace…”

“No! Not that necklace. No jewelry. The dress can carry itself,” Larissa protested.

“Just a slim bracelet. You’ve got to have jewelry or everyone will think you are poor,” Doreen said.

“No jewelry. We’ll compromise. I won’t wear cowboy boots and a denim miniskirt if you’ll concede to no jewels,” Larissa said. She really did like the dress even if the zeroes behind the five staggered her.

Doreen shivered all the way from her red hair to her toes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I might even paint freckles on my nose with an eyebrow pencil.”

“You win. No jewels. But I intend to go in an emerald green silk that I had made in Paris and, darlin’, I’m going to sparkle more than the crystal chandelier.”

“I’m sure you will and that will be you.”

“Take it off and we’ll go find shoes and a cute little purse. Can it have a bit of flash on the strap?”

Larissa shot her another look.

“Okay, okay. Plain Jane, it is. Do you realize that you are thirty years old? You always said you were going to have this big family. Your biological clock is ticking, girl. You should be elegant at affairs like this so you’ll be noticed,” Doreen said.

“Are you telling me you are ready to be a grandmother?” Larissa teased.

Doreen smiled. “Now wouldn’t that be funny. I didn’t even want to be a mother and now you’re talking about a possibility I’d be a grandmother. No one would ever believe that, would they? But I think I might be ready to be a grandmother. My biological clock is messed up. I’m ready for children when it’s too late to think about them. I’d like grandchildren. I think I inherited my mother’s genes after all.”

“What?” Larissa turned away from the mirror.

“Looking back I’m not so sure that Mother was ready for parenting when she had me. I had a nanny and Mother plunged into social work. In those days it would have been a big black sin to say you didn’t want children after marriage and God help the wayward woman who had a child without a husband. When you were born she was ready to be a parent.”

Larissa cocked her head to one side. “Then why did she hire a nanny for me?”

“Because that’s the way things were done. I’m not sure that I wouldn’t hire a temporary nanny when and if my grandchildren ever came to visit me. It would be fun to play with them. I damn sure wouldn’t want to be responsible for every mundane little thing.”

Larissa was glad she and her mother hadn’t had the talk when she was sixteen or even twenty-one. It would have devastated her to learn that she’d been an unwanted child at that age. She spun around one more time to check the back of the dress in the three-way mirror. “Is Rupert old enough to be a grandfather? That might even be funnier. Meet my children’s grandfather, Rupert, who is younger than I am. We might even wind up with one of those I’m-my-own-grandpa things before it was over.”

Doreen cocked her head to one side. “So is there a man in your life that might father a granddaughter for me? It might be fun to shop for a little girl’s Christmas gifts in Paris or London.”

“Like you did mine?”

“Your presents made me happy.”

“Did I ever make you happy?” Larissa asked.

“Yes, you did. I loved coming home and seeing you but it was more like watching a much younger sister grow up. At least you made me happy up until you got this harebrained idea about living in a pigsty and running a common beer joint. I didn’t want to be around and do all the mother things with you. Nanny could make cupcakes for the school parties and hold your head up when you upchucked. But I liked buying pretty things for you.”

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