Chapter 26 – Just the Two of Us
Skip, skip, skip, plunk.
Skip, skip, skip, plunk.
Skip, skip, skip, plunk.
"That's as far as I can get it to go," Beau complained. "You try."
So Bart picked up a stone and threw it.
Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip, plunk.
"How'd you do that?"
Bart shrugged. "Don't know. Just did."
"Didn't have nothin' to do with kissin' no girl, did it?"
Bart laughed. "I never said it did."
The two boys were sitting beneath one of the Green Ash trees they'd sat under all summer and attempting to outdo each other with skipping stones across the river. Summer was almost over, and neither one was looking forward to returning to school. They'd done a lot, a full summer with no obligatory cattle drives or summer jobs other than playing poker in town. Bart had made his first contact with a girl and been thoroughly 'kiss' educated by Cora Stampers, who proceeded to spread the word through town that the boy could KISS. The rest of the summer was spent more or less with Jo Walker after Cora and her family left town hurriedly. Beau had dipped his toes into 'girl' territory with Jo's older sister Sally, and while he didn't seem to have his cousin's prowess with his lips, Sally had no complaints.
"So, two more weeks, huh?"
"Yep," Bart answered. "Sure went fast, didn't it?"
"How come it never takes long for summer to go by, but winter drags on forever?" Beau asked, not really expecting an answer.
"That, cousin dear, is the question, ain't it?"
Now what was on both their minds was Bret and Mary Alice. Just that morning before he'd left town, Beauregard had received a telegram from Sarah Gooden, Mary Alice's aunt in Vermillionville. It was not good news for Bret or, for that matter, Mary Alice. Sarah wanted her niece to come live with her in Louisiana, at least until she was older. She promised that summers could be spent in Texas, but that was all.
Bret was already trying to figure a way around it, and both of the boys sitting down by the river were worried, Bart even more so than Beau. "What're they gonna do?"
"I don't know," Bart responded. "But I got a bad feelin' about it, whatever it's gonna be."
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Bart had still been asleep when Pappy came home with the unopened telegram. He made a pot of coffee and sat out on the porch, watching the sunrise on one of the last days of summer. He drank coffee and rocked, looking at the envelope it was in when Sammy handed it to him, and waited for Bret and Mary Alice to wake up. He didn't expect it to be good news, and he wouldn't be disappointed.
Sometime around seven o'clock Bret wandered outside, surprised to see his father still awake. Before he could ask why he saw the envelope and shuddered – he had the same feeling Pappy had. "Mary Alice," he called, and the girl walked out rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Telegram."
Beau handed her the telegram and she sat in the rocker next to him. She spent the next five minutes just looking at the envelope, afraid to open it. When she finally did it only took a minute for the look on her face to go from hopeful to tragic. She said nothing, handing the telegram to Bret. He read it, then folded it back up into its envelope and handed it back to her. "No."
He was calm, quiet, and firm. "You're not goin'." The demeanor would come to serve him well as he got older, but right now it was the last thing Pappy expected.
"Bret - "
"No. Just no."
Tears stood in Mary Alice's eyes, but she was as calm as Bret. "I have to."
"No, you don't. We'll find another way."
This time it was Beauregard that tried. "Bret – "
He turned on his father then, the first time he'd ever done so, and spat out, "NO. I said no." He reached for Mary Alice's hand and gripped it tightly, pulling her out of the rocker and back inside the house with him. Five minutes later Bart came wandering out, still dressed in his nightshirt, rubbing his eyes much the way Mary Alice had.
"What's all the noise about?"
Beau sat for another minute before he said anything. "Mary Alice has to go live with her aunt in Louisiana."
"Oh." Then mere seconds later, "OH."
When Bart went back inside after a few minutes, he could hear Bret and Mary Alice's voices coming from her room, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Which is what finally led to the discussion between him and Cousin Beau some hours later.
"You think they'll run away?" Beau asked after he tried to skip two more stones across the river and failed miserably with both of them.
"No, he won't . . . . . . well, maybe . . . . . I don't know. I sure hope not. I wouldn't know how to act if it was just me an Pappy . . . . . .
"It's just Pa and me, an we do fine."
"Yeah," Bart started, "but you got Lily Mae. We don't have her, or anybody like her. Do you think he would? Leave, I mean?"
"Depends on whether he loves her or not. Does he?"
"Shoot, I don't know. I don't think he knows. This ain't the way summer was supposed to go."
"That's for sure."
XXXXXXXX
"You can't leave, Mary Alice."
"I have to, Bret. Aunt Sarah wants me in Louisiana."
"But I want you here." He was holding her hand, and he had a tight grip on it.
"She's the only relative I've got, Bret."
"But Mary Alice . . . . . . I . . . . . I love you."
That was new. Bret hadn't told her that before. But what did it change? "You do?"
He turned loose of her and cupped her face in his hands. "Yes, I do. I love you, Mary Alice." He leaned forward and kissed her, and she returned the kiss, then pulled away from him and looked down at her feet.
"I – I love you, too."
He pushed forward. It was clear to him what they had to do to be together. "Will you marry me?"
"Will I . . . . . . yes, Bret, I will. I'll marry you. But how's that going to . . . . . "
"Don't ya see? If we're married, she can't make ya go to Louisiana. You can stay here. We'll be together, an we can figure out where to go from there."
"You're sure?"
He nodded and kissed her again, and a smile spread slowly across his face. "I'm absolutely sure."