Chapter 12
Dinner at the ranch was a strange mixture of informality and refinement. Once Alice and the younger children were settled in the den with plates of food and a Disney film, Iris led the adults to the dining room, where a rustic trestle table was covered, somewhat incongruously, with a fine Belgian lace cloth and Iris’s best bone china. Wrought-iron candelabras on either end of the table cast long shadows on the walls and lent an ominously gothic feel to the evening.
Colly, who had hoped for a casual cookout on the patio, took her seat with trepidation. Since Randy and Victoria’s deaths, she’d grown increasingly lax regarding household routine and was now largely accustomed to takeout dinners in front of the television. Here, she felt strangely awkward with a linen napkin on her knee and an array of forks and spoons to manage. But the roast beef, grilled vegetables, and warm yeast rolls proved homely and comforting; the wine was good; and the conversation remained surprisingly pleasant.
Before they’d sat down, Iris had announced firmly, “I don’t want to hear one word about politics or family drama during dinner—there are far too many sharp implements on this table.”
This had produced a laugh and set the tone for the meal. Everyone kept to pleasant small talk except for Lowell. He sat, interacting with no one, chewing sullenly with his napkin tucked into his collar and his sunburned forearms on the table. Colly noticed that Russ was watching him closely, frowning as his brother polished off a bottle of Shiraz by himself. The excessive drinking was worrisome, but at least it was keeping Lowell occupied, and Colly hoped Russ wouldn’t interfere.
Dessert and coffee were served on the patio. “I love it out here this time of year,” Iris said as Nadine, the dour-looking housekeeper, passed around cups of French roast and bowls of warm bread pudding topped with vanilla ice cream. “No mosquitos yet and not too muggy. Which reminds me, Brenda dear—Nadine and I have been spring cleaning. We’ve got some more things for the thrift shop, if you wouldn’t mind taking them.”
“Weather’s nice now ,” Russ snorted, “but it was hotter than Hades tromping around outside today.”
“Rattler weather,” Lowell muttered, slurring the words. “They’re coming out to bask. Already had a dog bit.” He shook his head when Nadine tried to hand him a cup of coffee and held up a tumbler of bourbon he had carried from the house.
Nadine offered the cup instead to Colly. Perhaps it was her imagination, but Colly thought that the housekeeper was staring at her with an odd mixture of apprehension and resentment.
“Time for the Rodeo. Looking forward to some good old-fashioned fried rattler, myself.” Talford patted his belly with both hands.
Colly dropped her spoon. “You eat those things?”
Russ chuckled. “We’re heathens in West Texas. Can’t believe you’ve avoided the Rattlesnake Rodeo all these years.”
“Randy always pestered me to go, but I draw the line at pits of deadly vipers.”
“Rattlers aren’t bad, if you handle them properly,” Brenda said. “We had a blast on the snake hunt last weekend. It was the kids’ first time.”
“Oh my God.”
Brenda laughed. “You’d love the Rodeo, Col—it’s like a carnival crossed with a county fair.”
Talford nodded. “Less commercialized than that monstrosity in Sweetwater. Ours still has a small-town atmosphere.”
“Except when those PETA morons show up,” Lowell grumbled.
Iris stirred her coffee placidly. “We should all face our fears, Columba. You’re just in time—the Rodeo opens Friday. They’ve started setting up the pavilions in the north pasture.”
How easy it was to be glib about other people’s phobias, Colly thought, fighting to suppress a vivid flashback of the rabbit’s footpads slowly purpling in the python’s coils.
Her mouth felt dry. She gulped coffee too quickly, scalding her throat. “I’ll think about it.”
She looked appealingly at Russ, who said, “Let’s discuss it later, Momma.”
Iris didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ve wondered whether it’s right to host the Rodeo this year, given all the recent tragedy.” She looked up. The housekeeper had finished handing out refreshments and was hovering near her elbow. “We’re fine, Nadine. Go put your feet up. That bursitis must be killing you.”
“We should definitely have the Rodeo,” Talford said as Nadine hobbled back to the house. “Traditions are healing for a community.”
“Yes, but should we have it here , after two deaths on the property?”
“Gotta clear the snakes one way or another,” Lowell mumbled around a mouthful of bread pudding. “Might as well have fun doing it.”
“Plus, it raises a lot for charity,” Brenda added, unexpectedly supporting her ex-husband.
A spirited debate ensued, the thread of which Colly soon lost in focusing on the interplay of personalities and the shifting eddies of tension and alliance that coursed through the conversation. Who are these people? she wondered. They had formed an integral part of her personal universe for over two decades, but any bond she felt was largely illusory, the product of custom rather than true emotional connection. She’d seen almost nothing of them in recent years. From an investigative standpoint, they were practically strangers.
The sound of raised voices pulled Colly abruptly back into the conversation, the subject of which, she realized, had shifted.
“Bullshit, Momma,” Lowell was saying, red-faced. “I told you before—that was a freak accident.” He gulped a long drink of bourbon.
“How about some coffee, buddy?” Russ stared hard at his brother, who took another pointed swallow from his tumbler.
Iris set down her cup and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I didn’t mean to upset you, dear. But freak accident or no, I think we need an internal audit of our policies and procedures—after the Rodeo, I mean. Better for us to catch any problems than for the Public Utility Commission to find them.”
“The PUC’s already cleared us. They’re not gonna reopen anything unless we do something to provoke ’em, for fuck’s sake—”
“ Lowell .” Russ leaned forward, gripping his coffee cup.
“Every industry has its accidents,” Talford said mildly. “At least with wind turbines, they’re usually small-scale, not like oil spills or nuclear whatnots.”
Iris smiled at him. “True, thank God. Though that’s little comfort to the woman’s family, I’m sure.”
“I think I missed something,” Colly said. “What accident?”
An awkward silence followed. Finally, Brenda said, “There was a bird strike on one of the turbines a year and a half ago. A woman was killed. I’m surprised you didn’t hear—it was in the papers.”
“Not the Houston papers. How on earth does someone get killed by a bird strike on a wind turbine?”
“It was one of those crazy, wrong-place, wrong-time—”
“Not a great dessert subject,” Russ cut in.
Brenda waved off the objection. “Colly’s used to gory stuff.” She followed this with a brief explanation of the incident. A turkey vulture had flown into a blade on a windy day, causing a large piece of it to break off and sail onto a road, where a driver had swerved to miss it and crashed over an embankment.
“I didn’t know those turbines were so fragile,” Colly said.
“They usually aren’t.”
“Poor lady.”
“She was a single mother, too,” Iris added. “Passing through from Oklahoma. A real tragedy.”
“Legal nightmare,” Lowell grunted. “And cost us a fortune in upgrades.”
“How do you upgrade for something like that?” Colly asked.
Lowell glowered into his bourbon and said nothing.
“We had the blades painted black,” Iris said. “Supposedly, that helps birds see them. And every turbine had to be gone over inch by inch. The Commission thought all the ice storms that year might have weakened the materials. The woman’s family sued, of course, but we managed to settle.”
“It’s been tough, but we’re out of the woods now,” Russ said with finality.
Lowell was not ready to drop the subject. “Nearly killed our bottom line—not to mention our reputation. And now, just as we’re getting back on our feet—”
“It did not kill our reputation,” Iris said. “I won’t hear that sort of talk. Our good name saved us. But it won’t be enough if there’s a next time—which is why we need the audit.”
“Christ, Momma, we were lucky the Commission didn’t shut us down. And now you want to stir the whole mess up again? You have no clue how bad this fucking thing hurt us.” Lowell drained his glass.
“Mind your language—the children might hear you,” Iris said briskly. “Believe me, Lowell, I’m keenly aware of the damage this has done. In fact, I feel responsible for it.”
“We agree on something, then,” Lowell mumbled.
Russ turned to his mother. “How’s it your fault? Lowell’s the plant manager.”
“Yes, dear, but I’m the CEO. Since Randy and Victoria died, I haven’t been monitoring things like I should. Lowell’s tried his best, I’m sure. But—”
“Are you joking?” Lowell pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. “We’d be sunk if it weren’t for me. You put me in charge, but you won’t stop meddling. You’ve been driving this company into the ground since Dad died.”
“For God’s sake, Lowell, that’s not true, and you know it,” Russ said. “You’re making an ass of yourself.”
“Right, I’m the ass, while you suck up to Momma and get all the attaboys . Let me tell you, Russ—I’m the reason you keep getting those nice, fat checks, so you can afford to run around playing cops and robbers.” Lowell was growing increasingly agitated and had begun to pace unevenly on the flagstones.
He’s going to fall in the pool , Colly thought. Which might not be a bad thing.
In the chair beside her, Brenda was showing signs of growing irritation. “Russ is right, Lowell. You’re drunk, and you’ve been spoiling for a fight all evening. Why don’t you sit down and try taking a few deep breaths?”
Lowell wheeled on her. “Why don’t you try minding your own goddamn business?”
Brenda stood, her arms stiff at her sides. “It is my business when you’re screaming and cursing like a lunatic thirty feet from our children. Will you please keep your voice down?”
Lowell laughed. “You didn’t seem too worried about the kids when you were running all over town spreading your legs for your boss.”
“Who can blame me, considering what was waiting at home?” Brenda’s voice shook with fury. “I don’t belong to you—I never did.”
“You little whore.” Lowell’s face and neck were dark red and wet with sweat. He took two stumbling steps towards his ex-wife, but Russ leapt from his chair and intercepted him, spinning him deftly around.
“All right, buddy, that’s enough. Let’s take a walk.”
For a second, Lowell resisted. But Russ held firm and finally managed to half-coax, half-frogmarch him down the path towards the tennis courts.
On the patio, no one moved or spoke. Colly’s chest ached, and she realized she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled slowly.
Finally, Iris stirred. “And here I was, congratulating myself on how smoothly dinner went.” She managed a wan smile at no one in particular. “You’ll have to excuse Lowell. He’s been under enormous pressure these past few months.”
Brenda stared. “You’re joking.”
Fearing a new outburst, Colly said quickly, “It’s getting late. We should get the kids home.”
Brenda turned. “I need a minute to clear my head.” Sniffling, she walked away into the darkness.
Across the patio, Iris brushed a bit of invisible dirt off her linen slacks. “Well,” was all she said.
“And then there were three.” Talford seemed cheerfully unfazed. He reached out to pat the back of Iris’s hand. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Certainly. Lowell’s hot-tempered, but he always comes around.” Iris spoke brightly. Too brightly , Colly thought. She felt a sudden twinge of pity for her mother-in-law.
Talford produced a pocket watch and flipped it open. “Colly’s right, it’s late. I should push off.” He stood, buttoning his sport coat. “Unless you need me to stay.”
“I’m perfectly fine. I apologize for the scene. We were doing so well, until the end.”
“These things happen. Families are like powder kegs—the slightest spark and everything goes kaboom .” Talford sketched an explosion in the air, then bent to kiss Iris’s cheek. “See you Wednesday, for dancing?”
Iris reached up and held his face briefly in her hands. “I wouldn’t miss it,” she whispered fiercely.
Looking on, Colly thought it was the most authentically human gesture she’d ever seen her mother-in-law make.