Chapter Four #2
“I don’t have one right now, which means that’s the one I figure out on the fly in the morning,” Gracie answered.
“If they weren’t getting forgetful, I’d tell them exactly what I’m doing and why I want it kept a secret until the end of summer.
But one slip of the tongue would be like a mudslide down the side of a tall mountain. ”
“I agree, but it would be more like Telephone, when one person would whisper something and by the time it reached the end of a twenty-person line, it was amazing what it had turned into,” Walker said.
“Kind of like the rumors back when we were kids,” Tina said. “I’m not saying that I didn’t do some stupid shit, but I got blamed for a lot more than I actually did.”
“Why didn’t you deny all that?” Gracie asked.
“They couldn’t prove it if I had an alibi, and back then I didn’t even care.
Nothing I did or got blamed for made my parents love me,” Tina answered with a shrug.
“Speaking of kids, if you get tired of the little critters by the first of summer, would you ever want some of your own? Our biological clocks are ticking, you know.”
Gracie held up two fingers. “I want two or maybe three. And close together.”
“Why?” Tina asked.
“I’m not an only child, but I always felt like one, except when I was with y’all. You were my surrogate siblings,” she answered. “I don’t see either of you jumping out there and making babies, so what’s your opinion on that issue?”
“I’d like to start with two or three, but wouldn’t mind even more,” Walker answered. “I always wanted brothers and sisters. I’m glad for both of you for filling that void when we were growing up.”
A loud ticking in Tina’s ears reminded her that if she was going to have a family, she needed to get serious about a relationship. But that involved trust, and the past had taught her some hard lessons when it came to that.
Gracie nudged her on the shoulder. “Well?”
“I suppose it’s time to think about that. I might want at least two kids for the same reason y’all said,” Tina lied, not knowing if she ever wanted children. What if she turned out to be the kind of mother she’d had—one who pawned her child off on sitters so that she didn’t have to be bothered?
“Is one going to have red hair and be as much of a daredevil as you were?” Walker asked.
“Are yours going to have black hair and blue eyes?” she teased. “And if you remember, I was blamed for a lot of things that I didn’t do.”
“Like the time some of the high school kids got high at a barn party and Faith drove Herman Richman’s tractor into a mud puddle so large that it looked like a farm pond and they blamed you for the dirty deed?” Gracie asked.
“Yep,” Tina answered. “The police questioned her, and of course Reesa and Sabrina swore she had been with them all evening. But I was thinking of that time I got caught using a fake ID in New Mexico and my folks had to take care of it. Looking back, they only did that to keep me able to get into a college. They wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible, so they’d do anything to make that happen. ”
“But rumor had it that you had supplied the gummies and liquor for the party that night when the tractor went swimming. That made everything that happened there your fault,” Walker added.
“Gossipy folks are the major con of living in a small town, but there’s lots of pros,” Gracie said. “Like our friendship and all the good times we shared. When you came home, Tina, it was like you never left.”
A lump the size of a grapefruit landed square in Tina’s throat, and it took her a minute to answer. “Thanks for that. I don’t deserve it, but I love all of you for giving me a second chance.”
“But we do want to hear about whatever happened during those ten years,” Walker said.
“It’s a long story.” Just thinking about parts of it made Tina nervous. “I wish I’d never left Benson, or else that I had gone to college with one of you. You have always kept me grounded.”
“Oh, no! You can’t do that. The experiences you have had are what make you the person you are today,” Gracie said.
“Seems like whatever happened smoothed out some rough edges,” Walker said.
Tina glanced over at him to find that there was still a veil over his expression.
He wasn’t as ready as Gracie to take her back into the fold, even if he had said that they were friends.
“Well, the years haven’t changed Walker.
He’s still a man of few words, but it seems to have worked some steel into your backbone, Gracie.
You were always too kind for your own good. ”
Gracie nudged her on the shoulder. “Thank you for noticing, but most of it is pure bullshit. I still get weepy if I see a dead animal in the middle of the road.”
“Even skunks?” Tina frowned at the thought.
“Yep, but you are avoiding telling us about those past years, so take a deep breath and fess up,” Gracie said.
“First mistake after leaving here was that . . .” Tina paused for a minute and looked across the street.
“They cannot hear you,” Gracie whispered out the side of her mouth. “It doesn’t matter if they do, though, because they’ll find out eventually. They always do.”
“Probably, but not tonight,” Tina said.
“We’ll keep your secrets,” Walker assured her.
“Okay, but . . .” Tina tried to figure out where to start.
“The first big mistake I made was leaving here. The second was when I messed up my shoulder—actually had to have surgery and a pin put in it, but it wasn’t from playing ball.
I thought that I was sober enough to drive home after a night out clubbing with the softball team, ran into a telephone pole, totaled my car, and got a hefty fine along with the DUI ticket.
That time my folks did not bail me out of trouble—no, sir, not in any shape or form. ”
“For real?” Gracie asked.
“Daddy finally said that he would pay for my tuition but that I had to work for my room and board fees. Mother wouldn’t let him even buy me a car to get around, so I got a job at the college cafeteria.
My new friends slowly disappeared, and the new ones I made were in the same financial boat that I was.
That ended my softball career, and my folks told me I was on my own from then on. No more financial help of any kind.”
“Tough love,” Walker said.
“Brutal is more like it. The wild parties were over and my credit cards were cut off. Classes four hours a day. Work six hours after that, and then to the library to study because if I didn’t maintain a B average, my folks wouldn’t even pay tuition,” Tina said. “But hey, I brought it on myself.”
“So, you didn’t ever feel like a victim?” Walker asked with a bit of humor in his voice.
“Sure, I did, until my roommate talked me into going to the school therapist. Little good that did me in the long run.”
“Why? Didn’t that person help you?” Gracie asked.
“Yep, she did at the time. She made me to understand that the one thing I wanted more than anything was my parents’ love, but I had to suck it up and realize some people aren’t capable of the kind of love that Cleo and Mae can give,” Tina replied.
“I finally took responsibility for my actions, but then I turned right around and moved in with a starving musician two weeks after I graduated from college. I had landed a good job over in Beaumont, Texas, and he got a gig or two a month, but mostly he hung out with his buddies and practiced music. Moving in with him was another in a long line of bad judgment calls, but at the time it was the easy way out. He had an apartment already, and it was within walking distance to my job.”
“That’s a lousy excuse to live with someone,” Gracie scolded.
“It really was, but . . .” Tina shrugged. “Hindsight, not foresight, is twenty-twenty.”
“How long did it last?” Walker asked.
Tina shrugged again and added another long sigh. She didn’t want to talk about those horrible days anymore, but she had started a mudslide like the one Gracie had mentioned, and there was no stopping it now.
“Not long, but since I’m on the confession wagon,” she answered, “I’ll tell you that agreeing to having a joint checking account was still another blunder.
He got several credit cards in my name, maxed them all out, and then told me I could keep the apartment but that he was moving out.
He and his band were off to Nashville, and he didn’t need an anchor like me tied around his neck.
I worked two jobs for five years to pay off all the bills.
I didn’t even tell my parents about any of it.
What was the use? And besides, by then we weren’t speaking except for occasionally on Christmas.
And that’s enough tales of woe for one night. ”
“How many more mistakes are there?” Walker asked.
“Several small ones, but those are the ones that seemed to mess with my life the most. And on another night, we’ll discuss all of yours,” Tina answered.
“We’ve got time,” Gracie said. “I’m too wound up to sleep, and my packing is done. Your turn, Walker. We’ve shared a lot since I came back to Benson, but you are the quiet one of us. What secrets do you have?”
“Not tonight,” Walker said with a chuckle. “Maybe when you get home, you can put me on the hot seat.”
Tina changed the subject to keep Gracie from badgering Walker to come clean about his past. “Remember how we used to say that we were like that old country song about eighties ladies that Cleo loved to listen to?”
“The one that Cleo and Mae listened to and said that Cleo was smart, Mae was pretty, and Iris next door was the borderline fool?”
“Yep.” Gracie nodded. “When we were kids, we would make Walker mad by saying he was the pretty one.”
Walker shook his head slowly. “I was the only boy and would have rather been the borderline fool than y’all saying that I was pretty.”
“I was the borderline fool, so that title was taken, and Gracie was the smart one,” Tina said.
“I only got that title because I tried to keep y’all out of trouble,” Gracie said.