A lot of thoughts and emotions went thru me while I waited for Adam to say something.
Part of me was sorry that I'd told him. I mean, it was a little like poking a sleeping bear. Why
do it when it most likely will end badly?
The other part of me, though, wasn't sorry. I was determined to prove that I was serious about
wanting his trust. If it ended with him being angry again at me, then I would just have to face that.
It was hard being patient, but I tucked my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around
them, waiting.
"This really does worry me, Harlie," he said finally. "You hardly knew her, and you just went with her
like that?"
I wanted to point out that Modesto wasn't that far, not really. But I kept quiet. Silence was, I thought,
my best defense right now.
"It wasn't smart," he went on. "Not at all."
"I realize that now," I admitted. "At the time, I was only thinking of hearing about Mom."
Adam looked at me straight-on, his eyes locking with mine.
"Is that all?" he asked. "Or is there more that I should know about?"
"Yes," I said, and then saw that he'd misunderstood, as his eyebrows raised. "I mean,
no, there's nothing else," I added hastily.
He continued watching me, looking serious, and I said lightly, with an attempt at levity,
"That's the sum total of my horrific crimes."
Adam appeared unamused at my humor. His next words proved that he wasn't impressed.
"I thought you were serious about this."
"I am!" I assured him, sorry that I'd made such a stupid joke.
He leaned forward slightly, lacing his fingers together, and looking off towards the pasture again.
"I didn't know her that well, but what I did know, it didn't seem as though she was ever very stable," Adam said.
Stable? "You mean like having a job? Because she has. She sells real estate," I said.
"No, that's not what I mean. I meant mentally. Emotionally."
"Oh." I thought for a moment. "She's getting divorced."
"Well, that by itself isn't enough to prove instability. Lots of folks get divorced," he said.
"She's been married several times," I shared, and then wondered if I should have,
because he nodded, and said, "That part doesn't really surprise me much."
"Why?" I asked, curious.
"She always seemed like a fairly high-maintenance lady. Not a lot of men can or will put up
with that."
"Oh," I said. Then I added, "So in other words, she was probably always bitchy to her husbands. Right?"
"I wasn't gonna use that word, but yeah, that covers it pretty well," Adam said, and I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Before I could rejoice in the fact that he didn't seem angry, and that he was even smiling a little, he asked, "Is she still drinking?"
I hesitated just the slightest moment, and he said, "You wouldn't know that. Never mind."
Aww, The moment of decision. Should I tell him about the wine she'd been drinking at the steak house the night we went out to eat? I decided to set about the touchy topic gradually, work up to it, and see how it went.
"Well," I said, hesitating a little, "You know when she came by the school?"
"You mean just the other day?" he asked.
"Yeah. When she got upset with me about giving the bracelet back."
"Right. What about it?"
"Well," I said again, "I think she might have been drinking that day."
"Yeah? How so?"
"She seemed a little unsteady on her feet."
"Hmm. Well, that could be caused by other things," Adam said, looking thoughtful.
"Uh huh," I said, wondering whether to go on.
We were both quiet for a few moments, watching as the sun slipped totally away.
"I've smelled alcohol on her breath," I said slowly.
"You have?" Adam asked, looking concerned.
"Uh huh," I said, again.
"Well, that's not good. Though I can't say I'm really surprised."
"I don't think she's a bad person, Adam. I mean, she's done some things that were wrong, like calling social services when we were all little,
and all of that, but she's been kind to me, too," I said.
"Well, you're an easy kid to be kind to," Adam said, and gave me a half-smile.
I sensed there was something more to his casual comment. "But?" I prompted him.
"But, I think she has another motive, besides being kind to you."
"Oh," I said, subdued.
"I'm not tryin' to hurt your feelings," he said. "I just don't trust her motives."
I nodded, feeling low, just thinking about it. I'd wanted to think that Karissa had really cared about me.
As if he could read my thoughts, Adam said, "I'm not saying that she doesn't have affection for you. She very well might. I just have a different view
of the whole thing than you do. I'm coming to it from a point of protection for you, and concern."
"I understand," I said quietly.
I thought for a moment, and then said, "I asked her about driving with Ford that time when he was little, and she said that she was taking some
medicine that made her dizzy, and that's what caused her to crash into the fence."
"So she denied any drinkin' at all," he said, sounding disgusted.
I thought back to the conversation I'd had with Karissa. "No, I don't think she did that. She admitted she'd had something to drink, but
said that wasn't the reason she had the accident, that it was the medicine."
"Uh huh," Adam said, drily.
"You don't believe her, do you?" I asked him, knowing that he did not.
"No. Not really."
"When you say you think she has another motive, besides being nice to me, what do you think it is?" I asked.
Adam was quiet for several moments, and then he said slowly, "I'm not really sure. It's more a feeling that I have, than anything else."
"Oh," I said.
Adam reached over and laid a hand on my knee. "Anything else you wanna talk about with me?"
I shook my head. "No. That's all."
"Okay," he said, and moved his hand. Then he gave me a long, serious look, and I knew he was considering what to do with my confession, about going out of town with Karissa when the family hadn't even known about her.
There was no point in dragging it out further.
"More punishment?" I asked him, dreading his answer.
"No, I don't think so," he said, and I looked at him, a little surprised, and glad, of course.
"Thank you," I said, and I meant it.
"Don't thank me just yet," Adam said, and I felt my stomach knot up again.
"How come?" I asked, looking at him tremulously.
"I understand how you were swept up into this whole thing, with her appearing out of the blue, and dangling information about Mom. It would
have been hard to resist that. I get it. But now that you have more information about why Brian and I have concerns, I expect you to wise up a
little."
His tone was set in scold mode, and I cringed inwardly.
"This is the end of the road to understanding. Next time it'll be temper highway," he warned.
"Okay."
"So you'll be a little smarter about things? Not get in a car with someone you hardly know, even if they say they're a relative?"
"Yes," I admitted.
"Even if they say they're an heir to a fortune they're gonna share with you?" Adam asked.
I shook my head at his attempt at humor. "Even then," I promised.
"Good."
I regarded him seriously. "Can I tell you one more thing?"
"What?"
"I really didn't have anything to drink at Miranda's last Friday. That was the truth."
Adam returned my serious gaze. "Okay," he said, and I could tell by the way he said it, that he believed me. And it felt good. Really, really good.
"It's been a good talk, sugar. I think we understand each other a little bit better," he said.
I nodded, giving him a grateful smile.
7
I felt better after my talk with Adam. So much better that I was able to finish out my grounding with a better attitude. The weather was getting warmer, and
we planned a BBQ for the weekend I was officially ungrounded.
I approached my first chance to drive again at breakfast on Saturday morning. I was sitting with Guthrie, eating cereal, when the kitchen began to fill up.
"What are you two up and about so early for?" Adam asked, passing behind us, and giving Guthrie's neck an affectionate squeeze.
"Fishin'," Guthrie mumbled around his Cornflakes.
"Aw," Adam said, going to pour himself a cup of coffee. He sat down at his end of the table, and surveyed us both.
"You going fishing, too?" he asked me.
"Maybe, later. I'm gonna help Hannah get the baby's laundry done first," I said.
"Good girl," Adam said, with an approving smile for me.
"Suck up," Guthrie muttered, and I stuck out my tongue at him.
Brian was at the stove, rattling pans, and starting bacon to sizzle in a skillet.
Hannah slid into her seat at the table, with a sigh.
"I think Isaac's got his days and nights all mixed up," she said, sounding tired.
"Try and take a nap today," Adam told her.
"I've got a lot to do," Hannah said. "There's all the laundry, and I promised to make a couple of pies for the women's group at church,
and there's grocery shopping to do again-"
"Hannah," Adam said, interrupting in the midst of her lengthy list of chores to be done.
"What?" she asked, looking down the table at him.
"Harlie said she'll help with the laundry. Make your pies this morning, and then you can take a nap this afternoon," Adam said.
"We'll see," she said, with a wave of her hand. "I've got to do some mending, too. Honestly, I don't know where the week has gone to. I haven't
gotten anything done-"
"Hannah," Adam said again, a little more forcefully this time.
"What?" she asked again.
"Stop."
"Stop what?" she asked, sounding cross. "I'm just talking about everything that I need to get done."
"Everything that needs to get done will get done," Adam said. "And the world won't fall apart if some of it has to wait."
Guthrie and I watched in interest as Adam's gaze met Hannah's down the length of the long kitchen table.
There was a long, really long, couple of moments of quiet as they surveyed one another. It seemed to me
that even though there were no words spoken, they were both saying a lot with their eyes, and their facial expressions.
Adam looked serious, a little stern, almost, and at first Hannah looked stubborn, then she finally gave him a small smile.
"Okay," she said. That was all she said, but it must have satisfied Adam, because he nodded a little, and then gave her a wink.
Evan and Crane came into the kitchen, and everybody started talking to each other. I was busy eating my cereal again,
when I looked up to find Hannah's attention focused on me.
"Harlie," she said.
"Huh?"
"Is cold cereal what you should be eating?" she asked, looking at my bowl of Cornflakes with concern. "That has so much sugar."
"I didn't add any more sugar to it," I defended myself.
"Well, you could have had oatmeal, or something," she went on.
I shrugged a little. I could have said a lot of things to her. I could have said that I get tired of oatmeal. That I miss eating Fruit Loops and all
the other cold cereals. That one morning of Cornflakes wasn't going to make me go into a diabetic shock. But I didn't say any of those things.
I didn't want to start a big thing with her.
At my shrug, she sighed a little, and then patted my hand and didn't say anymore.
After Guthrie and I had put our bowls into the sink, he headed outside. I paused beside Adam's chair, as he pushed away from the
table, finishing the last of his coffee with a long swallow.
"Adam?"
"What?" he asked, standing up.
"I could go to the grocery store for Hannah. And get the feed, too." As he looked down at me, I said, "If you want me to, I mean."
Adam looked at me for a long moment, as if he was studying my face.
"Well," he said, looking down the table at Hannah, and towards Brian. "I guess that'd be alright." He held my gaze for
another second. "Anywhere else you plan on going? Besides the store and the Co-op for feed?"
I understood what he was getting at, and I felt my face get a little warm.
"No. Nowhere else."
"Okay, then. We'll get you a list of feed," Adam said.
"And I'll get the grocery list ready for you," Hannah added.
"Okay," I said, excited beyond belief simply at the thought of being able to drive my truck again.
7
I took my time driving into town. I kept seeing deer sprinting across the fields, and I didn't want one to run in front of me. And
besides, the weather was beautiful and I was enjoying the smells of early Spring.
I got the feed first, drinking a bottle of grape Nehi from the pop machine while one of the guys that works there loaded the feed for me.
I went to the grocery store next, and tried my best to stick to Hannah's list, substituting for a couple of things that they were out of.
Bananas instead of strawberries, and two jugs of milk instead of three.
As I was going thru the checkout line, Misty Pope told me that the milk truck hadn't showed up that morning, thus the shortage of milk.
"You McFaddens need your own milk cow out there on the ranch," she said, with a giggle. "As much milk as ya'all go thru."
I smiled, even though I've heard the milk cow joke about a million times before over the years. Misty is kind of an airhead, in my opinion.
Pretty, but dumb.
"Did ya hear about the new vet?" she asked me, as she sacked up all the groceries.
I felt a pang. "Yeah, I heard," I said, hoping she would drop the subject.
"She's a real pretty lady," Misty chattered on.
"Great," I said.
"I mean, she's actually gorgeous," Misty specified. "When you see her you'll know what I'm talking about."
"I'm in no hurry," I muttered.
"She has the prettiest color of hair, and her eyelashes are so long, you just wouldn't believe it," Misty rattled on.
Honestly. Sometimes I had to wonder about the brain cells of certain people. I wished that I could wrinkle my nose like Bewitched
on television, and make Misty suddenly be struck mute, unable to speak at all.
"Sheep and horses don't much care how long the eyelashes are of the person giving them a shot in their butt," I said, with an edge to my voice.
"That's exactly right," a voice behind me said. "That's always been my opinion, as well."
I turned, embarrassed, to see who was standing behind me, overhearing our conversation, and I was seriously struck mute, myself,
by the honest-to-goodness greenest pair of eyes I've ever seen God set in a person's face.
The woman who those beautiful eyes belonged to, was dressed as if she'd been out mucking stalls all morning, and she gave me a smile.
"Hello. I'm Ivy Ramsey. I'm the new vet here in Murphys."
7
