And Yesterday Is Gone (33 page)

“Where is Ma?” Tim and I spoke in unison as though we had rehearsed.

Sis pointed to the dancers.

My eyes found Ma, held closely in Charles' arms. There was such an expression of love imprinted on his face that I knew Ma had found something far more valuable than oil.

We immediately joined the boisterous group, pushing in between the stomping boots and whirling skirts. The festive mood of the crowd was contagious and we were having a wonderful time.

I tried to cut in on Charles, but he laughed and swung Ma away from me. Worse still, she waved a happy good-bye.

Well, Rica, looks like you're stuck with me,
I thought. But when I went back to join her, she was gone. I spotted her dancing with a big good- looking guy and immediately tried my luck again. I tapped him on the shoulder.

“No way, Jose,” he said with a devilish grin.

I said through clenched teeth, “Damn it, that's my wife.”

Rica slipped from his arms into mine, her eyes sparkling.

“Better not leave me alone. I'm helpless around these good-looking Texans.”

“You'll pay dearly for this when the lights are out tonight,” I threatened her.

“I certainly hope so,” she said without an ounce of resistance.

The floor shook beneath the flying feet of the dancers. But when the music became soft and slow, Rica cuddled close to me. I thought I might pay the musicians to play all night.

Then I saw Charles talking to the leader of the band. Suddenly, the tempo picked up—a tune I didn't know.

I heard somebody's voice, loud and clear, shout, “Hey—that's the ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo.' Heard that just before I went overseas. Jitterbug king, I was.”

I turned to see some gray-haired man dancing funny by himself. His forefinger waving in the air and singing at the top of his voice, “Chattanooga Choo-Choo, won't you choo-choo me home!”

Well, I supposed you could expect anything at a Texas hoedown. Rica stepped back and nudged me.

Charles had Ma out on the dance floor. When he twirled her around a couple of times, the crowd moved back.

Sis was scandalized. “That fancy dress is flying way above her knees. Her legs are in full view.”

“Legs? I didn't know Ma had legs above her knees,” I interjected.

Rica laughed and clapped, yelling, “Swing it, Ma!”

Then everyone clapped and whooped and hollered.

Charles flung her out, pulled her in, whirled her back into his arms; now they were dancing side by side. I heard the jitterbug king yell, “Shag—they're doin' the shag.”

Fancy little steps, then quick steps, now back to back—now she's close in his arms.

The crowd was laughing, clapping, stomping, and shouting encouragements, although I didn't think any encouragement was needed.

Charles waved to the band—the tempo slowed and the birthday song began. With his arm around Ma, he announced, “I want all of you to sing ‘Happy Birthday' to my wife, Margaret. We were married six days ago and I'm a very happy man.”

We stood stunned. Sis said petulantly, “She could have told me.”

“She probably wanted to surprise you,” Rica said. “Besides, she knew you'd give her trouble—marrying a guy with an old truck and manure on his boots.”

Ma did a little dance step over to us and laughed. “Surprised you, didn't I?”

Then sing we did. I had never heard that song really sung before I heard it sung in Texas.

Pandemonium prevailed. I had to stand in line to kiss my own mother.

Then Charles' voice lifted above the hubbub. “Now let's have dinner. If you're going to dance all night, you'll need some reinforcements.”

•  •  •

The “dire consequences” that I had threatened earlier that night never happened. I made the mistake of closing my eyes as Rica went to check on Billy. When I woke up, the sun shone brightly.

Rica rapped on our door. “Are you gonna sleep all day? Breakfast is almost ready so hurry—we've got to leave early. Tim has the duty first thing tomorrow—a group is coming in for training.”

What a breakfast it was. And the conversation was a jumble of voices, fast and funny.

“Ma, where did you learn to dance like that? That dress showed your legs, way up.”

“For your information, daughter, I was young once. And who taught you to dance?”

Charles added, “You sure can see those legs through that see-through nightgown…”

“Sis,” I said, “you probably should, no, I think I should…

Tim interrupted. “Charles, where could I buy a nightgown like that? You know the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.”

Billy, from his secure position on Rica's lap, wanted his share of attention. He brought the palm of his hand down hard in his cereal bowl, spattering both Charles and me.

“Little man.” Charles laughed as Ma brushed oatmeal from his shirt. “I know exactly what pony you are going to ride when you come to visit Grandpa.”

With breakfast over, the limo waited. Walking down the steps, Ma had tears in her eyes, but a smile on her face as she kissed us all good-bye.

“Son,” she spoke to me with an arm around Rica. “You've made a good choice.”

Sis, with her arms around Ma, asked, “What are you going to do in this big house?

“Honeymoon,” Charles boomed, then “Y'all come back” as he shook my hand. He looked me in the eye and said, “You can't know how much I love her and she'll always have the best,” adding with a twinkle in his eyes, “including me.”

As the limo pulled away, I looked back to see Charles' arm around Ma and there was peace in my heart to know she had, at last, gotten what she deserved.

The limo was full of happy people and the chatter never ceased. I'd guess that driver was wishing for a good horse.

Tim went to work the next morning and we left, too. J.W. would be waiting for me. He'd ask about my dear old mother. I thought I'd tell him that she'd had a full recovery.

Driving back, we stayed one night in a nice motel. Rica said, “If we're going to honeymoon, I want a nightgown like Ma's.”

I promised her one. I'd have promised her anything.

W
hen we arrived at our destination, it was a shock to see how the apartment had shrunk.

Rica said, “I'm sorry I've been such a nag about this apartment. I am resolved to wait until the right place comes along and then we'll both be happy.”

“Billy looks tired; shouldn't he be in bed?”

She looked at me for a moment, said something about “motel madness,” whatever that meant.

She hardly had time to put his pajamas on and sure enough, he went right to sleep. I intended to raise his allowance at some later date.

It seemed as though our brief stay in Texas had given us a little fun time together—time that we needed. Now we felt closer than we had ever been.

I put in two extra long days to catch up with work. J.W. was pleased that I was back and that my mother had shown such improvement.

On the third day, I took off at noon and wasted no time getting home, with Billy's afternoon nap on my mind.

Juan's car was parked at the curb. I found him sitting on the floor with Billy, building a house out of brightly colored blocks that the laughing boy scattered time and time again.

“Hey, how come you're not up there doing your own building?”

Juan grinned up at me as he laid a blue block on a red one and said, “I've got a good crew doing just that.” Holding Billy back with one hand, Juan added another block.

Standing to his feet, Juan said, “C'mon, let's all take a ride. I want to show you something.”

“Well,” I said, “that sounds familiar. I remember the last time you ‘showed' me something. I don't think…”

“Oh, Steve,” Rica interrupted. “Let's go. I've been stuck at home for days.”

With that, she grabbed a blanket, wrapped Billy so snugly that all that could be seen were two sparkling brown eyes and a little pink fist still holding a block.

As we pulled away from the curb, I asked, “Where to this time?” wondering if he meant to show Rica his house.

We started up the hill. The trees announced the entrance of a late spring as the soft buds unfolded and presented to the world the soft green beauty of the misty city.

Rica was enchanted by the magnificent views as the car climbed higher. Her declaration, “Ah, Steve, this is just a step below heaven—can't we find something here?”

That stung. I wanted to give her the world and I couldn't even give her a house with a yard.

I was surprised as Juan ignored the path that had now become a circular driveway leading to his house. Looking through the trees I could see the workmen's trucks and equipment.

“Hey, where are you taking us? Surely not through the back door.”

He didn't answer, but turned left at the next intersection, then proceeded down a winding, overgrown green-canopied driveway. In front of us stood a large two-story house. Looking past the tangle of crepe myrtles and old boxwood trees, I could see the back of Juan's house. I realized that the backyards were separated only by a low fence now overhung with pink climbing roses that had chosen to scramble haphazardly rather than climb.

The house was not Victorian, but many of the traditional accents of that era were evident. It was obviously vacant. No smoke was coming from the faded red-brick chimney that guarded one end. The soft patina of the gray, weathered shingles wrapped the big house in a protective embrace.

The big rain-streaked windows, like tears on the unwashed face of a child, looked desolate. Wisteria vines arched over the portico, bathing the area with a fragrance almost overwhelming.

“Whose house is this and why are we here?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“I have the key,” Juan replied. “Let's look.”

He unlocked the door and we stepped into a wide entry hall with a cold, musty smell that told me it had been empty for a long time.

“Oh, it's beautiful,” Rica enthused with a look on her face as though she had glimpsed heaven.

Walking with Juan, I sensed a trap.

“What do you plan to do with this house?”

He was vague. “I may rent it as an investment. I got such a wonderful deal on it that I couldn't refuse.”

“Yes,” I said as we walked from room to room. I could hear Rica's heels clattering ahead of us.

“This is a lovely house. I can see where you would get a very good return.”

“Depends on who I rent it to,” Juan replied, not looking at me.

The trap was set.

I felt a quick rush of anger and stared at him, but something outside the window seemed to have claimed his attention.

“Juan, there is no way I can afford this house.”

“Steve, please don't be so pigheaded. I have so much—why won't you let me share it with you?”

“I'll be damned if I'll let another man put a roof over my family's head.”

Carrying this baby, who had awakened and was now wriggling like he wanted down. Now, I heard Rica call, “Oh, Steve, come look…”

Juan was holding out his arms. I deposited Billy and walked toward Rica's voice. Looking back, I saw Juan's dark head bent over my boy and heard the soft murmur of his whispered words as he put Billy down and bent to hold his hand.

One look at Rica's enthralled face told me that this already was her house, and my intuition told me that Juan had planned it so.

Rica was ecstatic. We walked quickly from one room to another.

“Oh, Steve, look at this bedroom. It even opens to a small room—I'm sure it was a nursery. How perfect.”

“This house has got to be four-thousand square feet. It's much too big for us…and five bedrooms—that's a bit excessive.”

“That's a library—for your office,” she answered quickly.

“This kitchen is huge—and you don't even like to cook.”

“I'll learn, I'll learn. I promise.”

“All these big windows. Who will wash them? And that fireplace is big enough to roast a buffalo.”

“Think how nice it will be to sit in front of it, maybe even make love on a bearskin rug,” she added with a sly smile.

“Oh, now you're resorting to bribery.”

“Steve, we'll have more children. We'll need those bedrooms. Please, Steve, this is my dream.”

Damn that Juan. He'd left me to do the dirty work.

“My darling Rica, it is a beautiful house, but you know that there is no way we can afford it and I will not—will not—take Juan's charity.”

The instant tears and sobs that followed made me feel inadequate, less of a man.

Yes, Juan's trap was sprung.

Furious, I retraced my steps to Juan. Billy had gone to sleep on his shoulder.

“Well, you have my son in your arms and my wife is heartbroken in your house. I used to think I had it all, but you make me feel as though I am still digging potholes and herding sheep. I'll live in a tent before you'll give me this house.”

Walking past him, I said, “I'll catch a ride, don't wait up.”

I walked across the connecting yards to Juan's house and caught Mr. Carter leaving and happy to give me a lift.

“Just drop me off at the
Chronicle
. I have some things I need to finish.”

But once back at my desk, I couldn't concentrate. So I walked down the street to a little bar where the guys who work on the paper hung out and where I occasionally stopped in for a beer.

I wasn't in a beer mood. I ordered a shot of bourbon on the rocks from the cute little redheaded barmaid. That shot burned all the way down. I ordered another with the same result. Then the barmaid kept them coming—I think.

Turning my head, I saw Juan walk in and go to a pool table. When I looked again, I saw two of him playing with one cue stick. That's when I realized I was definitely over the top and thought I'd better leave. Juan walked over and said, “Let's go home. You're going to have a big head tomorrow.”