I kept my eyes on Adam's face. At first, his end of the conversation didn't reveal much.
After his hello, and the disclosure on the other end of who it was, Adam waited a moment, and then said,
"That's what I heard."
Silence as he listened. The entire room was silent. Listening. Only the voices of Hoss and Little Joe Cartwright on the television could be heard.
"That would probably be a good idea." Adam's voice was resigned sounding. Curt. Not very friendly.
What? What would be a good idea? I leaned my hip against the side of the couch, picking at my cuticles, listening. My heart was
hammering.
When Adam said, "That's not the way I remember it, no," in a tight voice, I felt my stomach jump in nerves.
I gave Guthrie a look of distress, and he shrugged in answer.
I heard Hannah say my name and when I turned to look over at her, she patted the spot beside her, indicating that I
should sit beside her.
I didn't want to, but I probably would have, if Adam hadn't at that time, said, "Alright," in a curt tone, and hung up the phone without a goodbye.
Nobody said anything for a long few moments. I wanted to ask questions. I did. But I knew it would be so much better if someone
other than me asked the questions.
Adam went back over to the couch and sat down beside Hannah. Nobody said anything. Hannah reached for Adam's hand.
"Was she nice?" I burst out, unable to keep silent any longer.
Adam's gaze flickered over me. "School tomorrow," he said, as if he were announcing something that Guthrie and I neither one was aware of.
Somebody, it was Crane I saw when I turned, gave me a gentle push toward the stairs. "Bed," he told me.
I couldn't believe they were ordering me to bed as if I was six years old!
"I want to know what she said, though," I protested.
"Have you done your shot?" Adam asked me, as if he hadn't heard me protest.
"Yes. I did. But-"
"Go on to bed then," Adam said.
"But, Adam-"
"You too, Guth," Brian said, giving Guthrie's shoulder a light punch.
Guthrie didn't look any too pleased either, at being sent upstairs. But there's the difference between Guthrie and me. He
gathered what was left of his cookies in his hands, and headed towards the stairs, without complaint. He went up a few stairs, and then turned
back, obviously waiting for me.
I surveyed my three oldest brothers, and Hannah, feeling mutinous. Evan, from where he sat in front of the television,
turned and gave me a quick warning shake of his head over the back of the couch. A prompt from him, I knew, that I should shut up. As in immediately.
"Why can't I know what she said?" I persisted.
"You can. After we've all discussed it first," Adam said, and then added, "Scoot off to bed."
Well, he might have said 'scoot' like he was teasing, but his tone was one that left no room for argument.
I started for the stairs, muttering as I went. "It's like I'm six years old, and being sent to bed!"
Crane halted me as I passed in front of him, catching me in a humiliating way by the back of my pajamas. "Careful," he said, leaning
close to my ear, and talking in a quiet way, "or you can be treated like you're six years old, too."
I met his eye, and then let my gaze flitter away from his.
"Alright," I said grudgingly, barely civil.
"What?" he said, still holding onto me. "How about, 'Goodnight, Crane'?"
"Goodnight, Crane," I said with a sigh, and he let go of me.
"Goodnight, peanut," he said mildly.
Goodnights were called out by everybody else to Guthrie and I, and we went up the stairs together.
As we reached the top of the staircase, Brian hollered from below, "And that means go to bed, peach! No hangin' around at the top of the stairs trying to listen!"
I shot Guthrie a look of frustration. "I have a right to know what she said!" I told him.
"Don't get so uptight about it," Guthrie said.
Easy for Guthrie to say, I thought. He didn't have the same interest or investment in a relationship with Karissa that I did. Then I felt a little disloyal for thinking that. Guthrie was just concerned. He didn't like seeing me upset.
"Okay," I said, sighing.
"Okay. G'night," he said.
"Night."
As he walked on past my door and down the hall, I heard him say, "Hyena."
Well, there was only one answer to that. "Elephant ears," I called after him.
Just before I went into my bedroom, I cast a look back towards the stairs. I would have gone back to the edge and tried to overhear the conversation taking
place down below. I would have. If I didn't think Brian would, by instinct, know, and thus kill me.
7
I had trouble going to sleep. Finally I gave up trying, and got up again, flipping on my lamp, and settling with my mother's journal.
"April 4, 1954
Sometimes it's all I can do to not tell Margie to go straight to hell! She keeps harping at me about being too young to get married. I told her
that it was none of her business. I mean, Mom and Pop are fine with it. They love Adam! I would think that Margie was jealous or something,
but she goes out with guys. I mean, I'm sure she does, even though she never brings any of them to the house. So, if she's not jealous, why
is she constantly talking about how I need to wait?
Mom says she's just concerned about me, but I'm not so sure about that. When we used to get along it was because I let her boss me, and treat me like
she was my mother instead of my sister or something like that. When I make my own decisions, that's when she gets angry. Her and Adam are like
oil and water! They do not mix. She will sit and stare at him when he comes over, and it's not a friendly stare, either. It's like a glare. Adam handles it
well, though. Well, he does until she starts making snide comments or insults towards him. They're never direct to him, just more in a general way. For instance,
last night she said that any man who proposes to a girl before he has at least several thousand dollars in the bank, isn't really thinking of the girl's best interests. He's only
thinking of his own "carnal desires". Can you believe she said that?! I was so embarrassed that I couldn't hardly look at Adam.
Adam looked right at her and said that people that can only love themselves, and not anyone else, are better off not ever getting married, because they'll likely
end up divorced. We all knew he was talking about her. Then quick as a wink, he turned and started talking to Pop about the price of cattle.
Margie was so mad she went out slamming the door, so hard the windows rattled. Mom and Pop were both embarrassed, too, by the way she was acting. I could tell. The four of us played a board
game, and had popcorn later. It was a nice evening, but later, as Adam and I said goodnight on the porch, he told me that Margie slamming the door like that was uncalled
for, and that she needed a man in her life that would take a firm hand with her.
Kate"
Well! That answered the question that I'd had about whether my grandparents had liked my dad. They had. And they'd been okay with them getting married, even
though my mom was young.
I was starting reading on another page in the journal, when there was a light tap on my bedroom door.
"Harlie?" It was Adam's voice.
"Yeah," I answered, and he opened the door.
"You should be asleep," he told me, standing there in the doorway.
"I know." I sighed a little, and closed the journal, laying it on the bed beside me. "I couldn't, though."
"You'll be draggin' in the morning," he said.
I shrugged, giving him a look that I hoped he would understand.
Adam sighed. "Let me guess. You aren't gonna be able to sleep until you hear what was said. Am I right?"
I gave him a half-smile. "It would help me to sleep," I told him.
"Uh huh," Adam said drily, and came over to my bed. I scooted over to make more room so he could sit down. He sank down on the edge of the bed.
"I think that we're gonna meet up with Margaret. Karissa," he amended. "Someplace neutral," he added.
I sat up straighter in the bed, feeling excited. "Really?! That's great, Adam! Is Hannah going with us? I think Karissa will try to be nice-"
Adam held up a hand to halt my verbal onslaught. "Whoa up there a second, sugar."
"What?" I asked, subsiding, and looking at him questioningly.
"We is we. As in, Brian and Crane and I. Not you."
I looked at him, frowning. "How come?" I asked.
"Because this is an adult issue. I don't want you involved."
"I'm already involved," I reminded him.
"Well. Maybe that's right," Adam agreed. "But for this conversation, you're not gonna be."
"I'd be quiet," I told him. "I'd sit there, and be totally quiet. I wouldn't say a single word-"
"Harlie," he said, giving me a look. "Enough."
"Alright," I said, a little grudgingly.
Adam waited a couple of moments, holding my eyes with his own. "Should I continue now? If you're done arguing and fussing at me?"
My cheeks burned hot. "Sorry," I said.
"Alright." He sighed, and looked as though he was collecting his thoughts. "It was her suggestion we meet to talk. I'm not sure how it's gonna go, but we'll try. It may go
bad real quickly. She says she wasn't drinking that day with Ford, when she took out the fence. If she continues with that nonsense, and won't take any responsibility for what
she did, then I doubt it will go well."
I wrinkled my forehead in thought, and Adam saw it, saying, "What?"
"Well, she told me that she had been drinking. A glass of wine, but that it interacted with some medication. Remember? I told you that-"
"Ah. Yeah, I guess you did. Well. Anyway, now she's changing her tune, I guess," Adam said.
I sighed, feeling disappointed in Karissa. The guys would never accept her coming around unless she met them half-way in expressing apologies and all of that.
Adam patted my knee. "It'll be alright."
"Where are you gonna meet at?" I asked. "Marie's?"
"No. In Angels Camp. At the diner. Crane thinks it might be a little more comfortable for her than someplace here in Murphys."
"Good old Crane," I said, and Adam smiled a little.
"Yeah. Good old Crane," he agreed.
"I'm glad he's going along," I said.
"Afraid Brian and I will lose our tempers, huh?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe," I said honestly.
Adam reached out and tweaked my nose. "Thanks a lot," he said dryly.
"I don't mean it in a bad way," I told him.
"I know. I'm just teasin' you," he said.
"When are you going to meet up?" I asked.
"Tomorrow night."
I nodded my head. "K."
"Try not to worry about it," Adam advised.
"I'll try. And I'll pray it goes good."
"Prayer is always good," Adam said. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. Sitting back up straight he rubbed a hand over my hair.
"Go. To. Sleep," he said, his voice stern.
"Okay," I told him.
Adam stood up, and went to switch off my lamp light. He paused at the doorway, when I said, "Adam?"
"What?" he asked.
"Why did you guys agree to talk to her? After all this time?" I was curious.
For a minute he didn't say anything. I could see his profile in the half-lit hallway, but I couldn't see his expression.
"Well," he said. "We're doing it for you, sugar. If it was up to Brian and me, I doubt we would bother about it."
I swallowed, humbled a little bit. I knew it would take a lot for them to sit down with Karissa, when there was such dislike on both sides. They were proud guys. And they
were willing to try to bend. At least a little.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"You're welcome. There's not much that we wouldn't do for you, if we're able to."
Well, that choked me up. It did.
"Goodnight," he said.
"Night," I managed.
7bfor7B
