The Ladies Farm (30 page)

She dressed and made her bed. Then she headed down the front stairs, retrieving the paper from the porch before she headed for the
kitchen. She had slept a little, but not well, and she needed a cup of coffee and her horoscope before she had to start breakfast.

Tony clumped into the kitchen. “Y’all got any coffee?” he asked, zooming in on the coffeemaker as he spoke.

“In a minute,” she replied. “Try not to make so much noise, you’ll wake the guests. If you didn’t already with all that unloading.”

“Boy, you sure get demanding when you own the place!” He reached into the cupboard and pulled down two mugs. It didn’t take him long to know where they were, Della noticed.

Della busied herself with emptying the dishwasher and putting away the remains of last night’s dinner. “I don’t own it yet.”

“Dave’s sure you will. And you sure own the Hutto place,” Tony said, walking over to her and putting a hand on her neck.

Della turned to him and resisted the urge to bury her face in his neck. This close, he smelled sweaty, with a tiny bit of soap fragrance left, and she steadied herself by planting both hands on his forearms. “If everything goes right,” she told him.

He had slipped hands around her waist and now he pulled her a little closer. “We were right,” he insisted.

“Yes, we were,” she agreed.

“We were right the other night.”

For a second, Della couldn’t even remember which night he meant, but then she recalled their date only a few days ago and smiled faintly at the memory of lying next to him. “Tony,” she said, “aren’t you afraid we’re just falling back into this relationship because it’s comfortable?”

“Della, I’m not afraid of that, I’m hoping for it.” He released her. “What’s wrong with comfort?”

What was wrong with it? Della wondered.

Della shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know, Tony.” Why was her voice shaking? “Maybe I’m beyond comforting.”

He stomped over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. “You know, Della, you may be smart, but sometimes you act stupid.
And if you think you’re … if you think anyone’s beyond comfort …” His voice trailed off. “Or is it my comfort? Is it that I didn’t do it right when Jamie died, so now I have to inch my way back, dance attendance?”

“Don’t pull that crap on me!” She slammed a metal measuring cup down onto the counter, and it rang throughout the kitchen. “I’m not asking you to dance attendance. I’m not asking you to dance at all.”

It must have sounded as stupid to him as it did to her, because he fought back a grin as he shook his head and advanced. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll dance anyway.”

He hummed something she didn’t recognize at all, then realized as they stumbled around the island that it was “Red River Valley.” “I’m not mad at you,” Della said. She had forgotten his penchant for kitchen dances to smooth over fights. At one time, it had been one of his most endearing traits. “And I’d love to sleep with you again. I just have a lot going on here.”

“
Just remember the Red River Valley,
” he crooned. “
And the cowboy who loved you so true.
”

They stopped.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Tony said slowly.

“Sleeping with me?”

“That too. I mean, this problem of all those things you have going on.”

“Well you have to admit, between Barbara, and Hugh Junior and the gravel mining and the OSHA inspector—”

“I know. But there’s always going to be something. The problem isn’t how much is going on, it’s how much we’re willing to do to be together. So, if I live here, we could be and you could still manage this whole mess.”

“Live here like at the Ladies Farm?”

“Well, yes. We’re selling the house anyway, right?”

“Right.”

“And I’ve got to reinvest the money and find another place to live, right?”

She nodded.

“So, I put it into a share of the Ladies Farm, you get a little more cash, and you and I can play all those night games you’re so fond of.”

“You want to buy into the Ladies Farm?”

“Well, it would give us a chance to be together.”

Della listened to the muffled sounds from outside, trying to connect the ripping noises with a picture of Dave erecting the shed. Finally, she realized the pieces must have been packed in cardboard, and he was unpacking them. Where had Tony gotten this idea?

“You think instead of the Ladies Farm we could have the Couples Farm: You and I, Rita and Dave, Kat and whoever?”

“All I’m trying to do is give us a way to live a normal life in the place you seem determined to live it.”

“You want us to live together at the Ladies Farm?”

“I want us to live together. You want to live at the Ladies Farm. Why is it so complicated? I’ll commute into Fort Worth, you stay home and run the farm. It’d be great!”

“Tony, I can’t talk about this now. Everyone’ll be down here in a minute, we’ve got to start breakfast. Here,” she reached up on the shelf and pulled down another mug. “Take a cup of coffee out to Dave.”

“That’s okay, we picked some up on the way over.”

“You’ve already had coffee?”

“Just one cup,” he said, lifting his mug. “This is my second. I didn’t need to make up a reason to talk to you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No. Of course not. Is Dave moving in too?”

“Well, he and Rita have to live somewhere,” Tony said lightly. “And Rita is buying a share, isn’t she? Though I don’t think anybody wants to make any plans with Barbara … you know.”

“You mean, while Barbara’s dying? She says it all the time, it’s okay for us to.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem right to be assigning her room out from under her,” Tony said. “I guess I’d better get back out there. Dave’s liable to put that thing together inside out. He’s good with motors, but he doesn’t much care for construction.”

The discussion about Barbara drove him off, leaving Della alone for only a minute before Kat and then Rita popped in and they began breakfast.

She said nothing to the others, glancing up only to smile at Flops, who wandered in to sniff around, then retreated back to Barbara’s room.

Where would Tony fit in this? she wondered, arranging muffins in a basket. But she said nothing until they decamped to the office after breakfast, while the home health worker was helping Barbara bathe.

“She has her good times,” Rita explained. “Usually first thing in the morning, and then around two. She’ll have some lunch and then she’ll feel like talking for awhile. Yesterday, she showed me how we could print the recipes off the computer onto file cards and then use those colored stamps Pauline made to decorate the cards.”

“I told her we’d finish them,” Kat said in a shaky voice. “Just the way she intends, with those stupid little carrots and apples stamped all over them.”

“Don’t sell her short,” Rita warned. “She may finish them herself.”

“Will she be okay for the wedding?” Della asked.

“Well, I hope,” Rita replied. “Two is her good time.”

Della tried to focus on logistics. “Who’s coming? Do we have enough folding chairs? Don’t you want flowers?”

“Well, my kids of course. Carla and her gang are driving over from Dallas, and Darlene and Tiffany are right here. You know, Darlene’s always though of Dave as her daddy anyways, so she’s pretty excited. And we told little Tiffany she could be our flower girl.”

“You’re having a flower girl?” Kat asked.

“Well, she’s already five and if she can’t be her mamaw’s flower girl, she’s going to miss her chance. I don’t think Darlene’s remarrying anytime soon. Anyway, we’re not having a procession, or anything. Darlene’ll just dress her up in her Easter dress and she can sprinkle a few petals up there over the JP’s feet, then Dave and I’ll say our vows.”

“We’d better count the folding chairs,” Della said to Kat. “And check the freezer. And get some beer and wine.”

“Now, Dave’s already taking care of the drinks,” Rita said. “You keep forgetting who owns the convenience store. I just need y’all to be there. To help Barbara. And, you know, to be there for me.”

Her eyes had started tearing up, and now she broke down completely. “Here,” Della said, grabbing a tissue from Kat’s desk and bringing it to Rita. “All this is just such a surprise.”

“Well, it’s not like Dave’s a stranger, we’ve been sleeping together for fifteen years if you don’t count the years I was married to Larry the second time, and maybe some of them anyway, I don’t even remember anymore. It’s just a relief to make the decision and be ready to go on. It’s like he’s already living here anyway, all the work he’s doing.”

Kat and Della exchanged glances but remained silent while Rita wiped her eyes and blew her nose. When Rita finally looked up, Della said, “So you’re planning on Dave living here at the Ladies Farm?”

“Well, yes. Husband and wife do usually live together, you know. That’s one of the benefits of marriage, especially in a place like Sydonia.”

Della could see that Kat was thinking that Sydonia’s moral code had always proved elastic enough for whatever behavior Rita imposed on it but, thankfully, Kat said nothing. Della wasn’t sure what to say.

“With the lodge up there, and all, we need a man,” Rita said, “and Dave’s certainly handy.”

“Well, of course,” Della said automatically, not bothering to point out that the lodge conversion was only theoretical. “But we’ll have to talk about it … Kat and I. I don’t think we should until … you know, with Barbara.” She took a quick breath. “I’d like to wait until after Barbara’s death to start redistributing the Ladies Farm, if that’s okay with both of you.”

“Why that suits me fine. As long as you don’t object to my husband and me sleeping under your roof in the meantime.”

“We never objected before,” Kat said mildly.

Chapter 19               

T
he WaLuKa trio brought the wedding cake over first thing in the morning. While Wanda had baked and iced the three tiers, Lu had busied herself producing a profusion of candied blossoms, gas pumps, and hair clippers to adorn the creation.

“Isn’t this the most colorful thing you’ve ever seen?” Rita bragged. Kathy’s contribution was the Ken and Barbie couple that topped the cake. The Ken sported coveralls with the name Dave stitched over the left breast pocket; Barbie wore a jewel-studded denim jumpsuit and a head of spiky black hair.

“Old teddy bear,” Kathy confided. “I ripped Barbie’s hair off, cut up a plush toy, and pieced together a wig. Thank God for Super Glue!”

“It’s amazing,” Della assured her.

“Don’t touch,” Darlene warned Tiffany, who had run in from the kitchen, where Kat had been showing her the little heart-shaped sandwiches they had put together the previous night.

The child wore shorts and a T-shirt; her pink, flounced dress hung from a hanger hooked over the back of a chair. “Are you ready to get your hair done?” Rita asked her. “I told her I’d pile it high on her head,” she explained to Wanda, who stood blinking critically at her handiwork as if she wished she had a few more sugared gas pumps with which to edge the cake.

“How’re you doing yours?” Wanda asked.

The trio regarded her quizzically, but Rita breezed past with Tiffany in tow. “Oh, not much to do with a head full of bristles,” she sang out. “Darlene found me a little wreath to sit on top: baby roses. I’m thinking that’s all I’ll need. Barbara’s lending me her diamond pendants. I don’t want to look too busy.”

Wanda, Lu, and Kathy exited though the kitchen; Rita and Tiffany disappeared through the living room. Darlene lifted Tiffany’s dress off the chair and paused to admire the cake once more. “That sure is my mother,” she laughed, shaking her head.

Della nodded. “I think so, too.”

“Can I help you all?” Darlene offered. “I’ll bet you could use a hand.”

Della showed Darlene to the kitchen, where Kat was slicing celery and carrot sticks. Kat looked up. “We’re just stowing them in these Baggies with marinade,” she told Darlene. “Knives are on that magnetic bar over the counter.”

Darlene was an adept slicer, and she, Della, and Kat had worked their way through celery, cucumber, carrots, and red and gold bell pepper before Dave and Tony started unloading the drinks.

First came the keg. Then came the trash can lined with Hefty bags and filled with ice and cans of soda.

Then they stomped inside, where Dave spied the cake. “How’d she like it?” he asked.

“She’s overwhelmed,” Della replied.

“She around?”

“In the salon.” Della waved her hand toward that side of the house.

He nodded and started off. “I don’t think she’ll be superstitious,” he muttered. “She didn’t see me before our first wedding and that one didn’t work out at all.”

Tony grinned at Della, then studied the cake. “It’s something.”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“About Rita and Dave. That he was planning on living here.”

“Well, honey, that’s what I told you yesterday. But I don’t think it was ever a secret about where they were heading. Rita has an inclination to marry.”

Della sighed. He was right, but irritating. “So you figure if Dave can, why shouldn’t you?”

“I figure Dave and Rita hit upon a good idea. I’m not too proud to copy it.” He stood with one foot resting on a rung in the dolly.