Getting Lucky (8 page)

   Annie stopped crying and waved at Lizzy, who had settled back down in the truck.

   Griffin drove away and Julie sat down on the porch with a heavy thud. She propped her elbows on her knees. Lizzy was welcome at her house, but she'd be damned to hell for all eternity if she ever gave Annie permission to go to Lizzy's house. She didn't give a damn if Griffin or— what was his brother's name?— Graham were as rich as Midas or if they lived in a tent on the banks of the Red River.

   Graham? That was Annie's biological father, and he'd been killed a few days after that motel night. Julie didn't believe in fate. You made your own way in life; accepted the consequences for your own mistakes; gathered laurels for your victories. But if it wasn't fate meddling in her life then how in the hell did she get pregnant on a rebellious one-night stand and wind up six years later living next door to the man's twin brother? That was too much to chalk up to coincidence.

   "Why?" she muttered.

   "Because I wanted a black and white kitten and Lizzy wanted a yellow one," Annie answered.

Lizzy ran into the house and straight into Nana Rita's arms. "I ran away but it's all better now acause Daddy said that Rachel won't be coming back to the ranch. She won't spank me no more. Annie's momma called her a bitch and said she was going to whip her ass."

   Marita looked up at Griffin for an explanation.

   He rolled his eyes.

   "Those are naughty words," he said to Lizzy.

   Lizzy went right on talking. "We traded kittens and Annie has got a black and white one. And I played in her room today with her Barbie dolls. I'm hungry now. Can I have a sandwich?"

   "Griffin?" Marita raised a black eyebrow.

   "It's a mess. One big hellacious mess. This lady…"

   Lizzy piped up. "She's not a lady. She's red-haired white trash and she's my teacher and I'm going to grow up and be just like her and she called Rachel a bitch and told her not to hit me no more."

   "Lizzy, it's my turn to talk and your turn to be quiet. As I was saying," Griffin said, "the lady who bought the old Lassiter place is Lizzy's new friend's mother and her teacher."

   Lizzy followed Marita to the kitchen and crawled up on a chair on the other side of the island in the middle of the floor. "Rachel screamed at Annie acause she thought she was me and Rachel is mad at Daddy now."

   "I imagine she is," Marita smiled.

   "There's a bigger problem over there," Griffin said. "Can you make a couple of sandwiches for me? I missed dinner because I was trying to find this runaway kid. Lizzy, don't you ever, ever do that again. And no matter where you go on this ranch, you take that phone with you. Your punishment for running away is that you can't ride your pony for a month and you can't leave the yard for a whole week. Is that understood? And I don't want to hear dirty words coming out of your pretty mouth again."

   She nodded seriously. "Then Annie will have to come play with me since I can't go play with her. Did you get her phone number so I can call her up and tell her that?"

   "I did not," he said. His world was listing to one side and he wondered if it'd ever be right again.

   "Her mother's name is Julie Donavan. Just call the 'perator on the phone and ask her for the number," Lizzy said.

   "I think you've had enough excitement for one day.
We
certainly have." Marita said.

   "I expect you want to talk to me without little corn's big ears?" Griffin said.

   Marita nodded. "Bring your sandwich to the back yard and I'll clean up this mess your woman left behind after we talk. Next time I'll take Lizzy with me. It's less trouble than having a heart attack or cleaning up after a messy cook," she fussed.

   "I want to go, too," Lizzy said.

   "You eat your sandwich right here at the bar, young lady, and then you're going to put on your bathing suit and play in your little pool where I can see you all the time," Marita said.

   When they got to the backyard Griffin was glad to sit and let the adrenaline settle down. He bit off a chunk of sandwich and chewed slowly. Too much had happened too fast. His nerves were frayed worse than the hem line of that Donavan woman's shorts. She had been a sight wielding that hoe like a weapon and screaming like a momma mountain lion protecting her young.

   Marita sat in a lawn chair beside him. "Talk."

   "Our new neighbor appears to be someone Graham met and slept with just before he went to Iraq. That's why that little girl looks so much like Lizzy. They really could be twins but oh, my God, I just realized they are cousins. Lizzy is a little taller. Annie's face is a bit rounder. She's Graham's daughter. DNA couldn't prove it any better. Graham always was attracted to low class, red-haired women. She's not fooling me, Marita. She might be a schoolteacher and go to church, but by damn, she's white trash."

   "Maybe she was just as shocked as you were when she found out she was living in the same area as a Luckadeau. Ever think about giving her the benefit of the doubt?"

   "Hell, no! She's like all women. Out for what they can get. Look what Dian did. There's no other reason why she'd move to Saint Jo. She's here because she's finally figured out who Graham was and what he was worth," he said.

   "You been burned, son, but that's unfair. We're not all like that," Marita huffed.

   "Sorry, I didn't mean you."

   "Apology accepted. Now what makes you think she's white trash?"

   "Look at that place. No one who had any dignity would buy it or live there. Besides, she was filthy," Griffin said.

   "What had she been doing?"

   "Hell, I don't know what she was doing. She came around the house with a hoe in her hand like she was going to kill me with the damned thing. Then she started yelling and Rachel showed up and they were both yelling and Annie was refusing to get Lizzy and then Lizzy came out and there was another big fight. It was worse than a three-ring circus on
Jerry Springer
. I thought Rachel and Julie were going to duke it out right there in the yard," he said. No way was he about to admit that he'd been attracted to the schoolteacher even when she was a sweaty mess.

   Marita laughed so hard her face hurt. "I would love to have seen that."

   "It wasn't pretty," Griffin said, a smile finally tickling the corners of his mouth.

   "Who gives a hoot? It would have been a beautiful sight to me because it got rid of that woman who's been snowballing you for six months. How big is this redhead?"

   "Little ole bitty thing. She might weigh a hundred and twenty soaking wet and she was sweating like a boar hog. I was glad I was upwind from her. She looked like she would have smelled horrible," Griffin said.

   "She must have a dose of Irish in her with a temper like that, plowing into a big old horse of a woman when she's that little. It would have been a hoot to see Rachel get her ass whooped by a little woman. And she was carrying a hoe? Must be a working woman, huh? I bet she'd been weeding the garden in the backyard. What set her off and made her so mad?"

   Griffin rubbed his aching forehead with the palm of his hand. "After me, it was the idea that Rachel had whipped Lizzy. She threatened to call the Department of Human Services."

   Marita pointed her finger at Griffin. "Let me tell you, if that woman ever touches Lizzy again, Julie Donavan won't have to call the authorities. I'll take care of her myself. Now why is it that she's white trash, again?"

   "Because in order for her to have Graham's daughter she had to have been with him at least one time. He left here for Dallas and left Dallas the next day for Iraq. She must be a prostitute or a one-night stand. The only difference is that one gets paid and the other gives it away."

   Marita started back into the house. "She's raising her daughter and has a responsible job. Sounds like she'd fight a circle saw for her child or yours. Your wife left her child and hasn't been back to see her since, don't even care enough to call on her birthday or send a Christmas present. Who's the whore and who's the good mother? You best be rethinkin' your judgment, son."

   Griffin threw up his hands in defeat. "This has been a day from hell. I'm going to the field to sort it all out."

   "Might be a good idea," Marita threw over her shoulder.

A BREEZE BLEW ACROSS THE PORCH AS JULIE AND ANNIE waited for Mamie. Like most five-year-old kids, Annie couldn't be still with the excitement of going to her first rodeo. Finally, they heard a car and Annie ran to the edge of the yard to look up the road.

   "It's her! I know it's her and now we can go," Annie said.

   Mamie came to a stop without turning into the driveway and waved at Annie.

   "Buckle up, cowgirls. We're on our way to the big Chisholm Trail Rodeo," she called.

   Julie fastened Annie's belt in the backseat before she opened the door on the passenger side of the car.

   "Why do they call it all that, and do men really really ride on the backs of bulls?" Annie asked.

   "The Chisholm Trail came through here from San Antonio through Fort Worth and right up 81 through Oklahoma. That's why they call it the Chisholm Trail Rodeo. Anyway, the trail had feeder trails and the folks who came through Saint Jo back then stopped and watered the herd and the men at the square. It's all part of the local history," Mamie explained. "Which reminds me. That deal about the winter festival that we had to postpone has been rescheduled for Sunday afternoon. It's the only time Clarice and Everett can work it into their schedules. I'm sure they're hoping that no one will take time out on Sunday, and they'll vote the idea down."

   "I'll be there," Julie said. "Might as well dive right in and get in the middle of the town's arguments. Nothing like being on the wrong side to get me fired next year."

   "You ain't gettin' fired, girl. Mrs. Amos runs the school and she told me you're doin' a fine job."

   "The school board has something to say about that," Julie said.

   "Maybe so, but not a one of them wants to see Mrs. Amos turn in her resignation. If she likes you, darlin', you won't be gettin' a pink slip."

   "How'd she get so much pull?" Julie asked.

   "She squatted in a field one day and they built the school around her. I can't remember when Mrs. Amos wasn't at the school. She taught for years. Was mine and Griffin's third-grade teacher. Teachers come and go. So do superintendents, but not Mrs. Amos. She's been there since Griff and Graham and my parents were in school."

   "Might be nothing could keep me here," she said.

   "Want to talk about it?"

   "Not with the backseat driver listenin' in," Julie said.

   Mamie had proven to be a good friend the past weeks. She had made a special trip to see Annie with the news that Lizzy had been grounded to her yard for a week and couldn't ride her pony for a whole month—and never back down to Annie's house. Annie had been fine with it until Friday when school let out and then the pouting began. She missed Lizzy and Chuck, and why couldn't they just call their parents and see if they could come for a play day at her house? The Saturday night rodeo was a nice diversion to help her get through the weekend.

   Julie hadn't been too sure about what to wear to the shindig. When she thought about a rodeo she pictured women in jeans and shirts with pearl snaps and boots. She had the jeans. A tank top with sequins scattered on the neckline had to work for the shirt. The only boots she had were the rubber ones she slipped over her high heeled shoes when it rained. She had put on her sandals. Two out of three wasn't bad.

   Annie was going to see the horses and the bulls and she would have worn a Cinderella gown if Julie would have let her. Julie talked her into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt with Ariel on it, and sandals.

   Mamie wore jeans, boots, and a pearl-snapped sleeve less shirt. Three out of three. Did that mean she went home with the cowboy that night? Julie didn't care if she did. She'd had her one night of being a wanton woman. It had netted her a child that she wanted desperately, but she'd be hung from the tall limb of a Texas pecan tree with a worn out rope before she went in for a repeat performance of that night.

   "Anyone I know going to be here?" she asked Mamie cautiously.

   "Just everyone in the whole area who likes rodeos," she said.

   Julie bit her lip to keep back the groan. That meant Griffin for sure. He was a rancher, and they did like cows and bullshit, didn't they?

   Annie spotted Lizzy before she was even out of the car and began to tug on Julie's hand. Julie looked up and saw Lizzy dragging an older lady across the parking lot toward them. Both little girls stopped a foot from each other, smiles on their faces and their eyes all aglitter. They reached out at the same time and laced their fingers together. From that point, there was no separating them.

   The lady held out her hand. "I am Marita. I have been keeping house at the Lucky Clover since before the twins were born. I take care of Lizzy. You must be Annie's mother. Her name comes up about every five seconds at the ranch."

   Her handshake was firm.

   "I'm Julie Donavan. It's the same at my house. Lizzy and Chuck are my daughter's new best friends."

   "Nana Rita, Miss Julie is the white trash Daddy told you about. I want to grow up to be just like her," Lizzy said in awe.

   Mamie laughed until she got the hiccups.