The Game of Denial (26 page)

"What did my mother say?"

Ralph shook his head. "She never understood it and looked for Carly at every event."

"Where did your sister go?" Fran asked.

"I heard she found work out in California, but I never heard from her again. I missed her, but hung around. I figured maybe Carly would want someone to look out for Evey. But I never figured on what Les did to her."

"I don't want to hear any more of this shit," Tully said.

"Well, you're gonna!" Ralph snapped.

"How did you feel about your sister being a lesbian, Ralph?" Joan asked. "Honestly."

"I didn't like it one bit, ma'am. Guess that's why I went along with beating on her like I did. If I could go back and change it, I would, but we can't ever go back. I just had to learn to accept what we did and move on." He smiled a bitter smile. "I confess I still don't understand it, but the world hasn't come to an end because of it. And they don't seem to make much of a fuss when they find out I like women."

"You wouldn't feel like that if one of them had come on to you," Tully said, loathing in his voice as he glared at Joan.

Brad stared at his brother. "Did that happen to you, Tully?" he asked. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because he was embarrassed and humiliated," Joan answered. "Because he's a
man
and thought he could handle it."

"You don't know shit, lady," Tully said as he jumped up.

"I do know. More than you think. Maybe better than anyone else in this room," she said calmly. She stared at the young man until he resumed his seat. She turned her attention back to Ralph and clasped Monica's hand. "Please go on, Ralph."

"Well, once Carly was gone, old Les saw his chance. He saw Evey as a way to get what he wanted. If he married her he stood to inherit Meadowbrook one day. But, of course, Evey wasn't interested in Les. He did everything he could to get closer to her.

Reckon he figured if he knocked her up, she'd see the light or something.

"Once it become obvious Miz Evey wasn't going to have anything to do with him, Les had to come up with another plan. He wasn't used to women turning him down and he'd tapped plenty of ladies for the bragging rights. I don't know for sure what happened, but nothing was ever the same after that night. Les stayed late at the arena to run his horse through its paces. He was a fine rider and cut a nice figure in the saddle. From what I can gather, if I choose to believe his story, Evey went to the arena for a late session. They talked a while and Les offered her a drink. She wasn't much more than a kid and her daddy didn't tolerate women drinking alcohol. Guess she thought she'd show him. Anyway, Les kept giving her drinks until she damn near passed out. Couldn't stay in the saddle and eventually collapsed into a pile of fresh hay to sleep it off. Les laughed when he told me what a tough time he had gettin' her pants off."

"That's enough, Ralph," Brad snapped.

"He raped her when she couldn't fight back, son," Ralph said, his voice cracking. "And you're the result."

"You're a liar," Tully said, his voice weary.

"What reason do I have to lie about something like that?"

"Mom loved him," Brad said.

"She lied about it for your sake. She never wanted you to know. She never wanted any of you to know."

"What are you saying, Ralph?" Fran asked.

"In Les Chase's mind he bought and paid for Miz Evey and could do whatever he wanted to with her, especially when he'd been drinkin'. I can't prove it and she never would say, but I know he forced himself on her. I saw her more times than I can count with bruises, sore ribs, limpin', not able to sit a horse. "

"She should have left him," Fran said.

"Couldn't. The old man left Meadowbrook Farm to Les in his will. Payment I guess for setting his daughter on what he thought was the right path. If she'd left, she'da had nothing but three little mouths to feed." Ralph shook his head again and sighed. "Never thought I'd say this, but when Les was killed I wasn't upset a bit. And I don't think Miz Evey was neither. It was the answer to her prayers. But a woman alone just couldn't make it. That's when I decided to help her out. Never regretted it a single day. Evey's a good woman and she damn sure deserved better than Les Chase."

"You didn't think about taking Dad's place?" Brad asked.

Ralph shook his head. "She wasn't interested in me other than as a friend and a farm hand. She fed me and gave me a roof over my head until she could afford to pay me. We've been getting along that way just fine for almost twenty years now." Ralph looked at Tully, "I never thought it would be one of you that brought the whole sick story to light. I hope Miz Evey will forgive me." He looked at Brad and smiled. "She's so proud of you, Brad. Proud that you're gettin' away and are a teacher. She thinks it's a fine and noble profession."

"But she's disappointed in me," Tully said.

"Every time I look at you, boy, I see Les Chase. You get more like him every day. No one could be proud of that. But, despite that, I know she loves you."

Joan sat quietly, trying to take in everything she'd heard and not intrude any further than necessary into a family tragedy.

"Ms. Carmichael," Ralph said.

She looked up at him. "Yes."

"You're not at fault for any of this. I only know what I saw in Miz Evey's eyes when she thought you didn't notice," Ralph said. "I haven't seen her look like that since before Carly left. Didn't think I'd ever see that light in her eyes again. I saw the same thing in your eyes too."

Joan cleared her throat. "What do you think you saw, Ralph?"

"Can't really describe it. Just somethin' special." He moved his eyes to Monica. "Sorry, ma'am."

"You're fired," Tully said out of nowhere.

"Oh, shut up, Tully," Brad retorted in a weary voice. "You don't own Meadowbrook. Mom does. You can't fire anyone. Maybe you're the one who should start thinking about someplace else to live."

"What are you saying?" Tully asked as he stood.

Without warning, Brad was up and in Tully's face. He shoved Tully away. His fist was stopped by a slamming door in the kitchen, following by the sound of feet stomping on the floor.

Fran stood and started toward the kitchen. Brad stopped her and opened a closet door, reaching inside to carefully pull out a rifle.

Evey had her coat unbuttoned and was pulling a muffler from around her throat when she stepped into the living room. She stopped suddenly when she saw the rifle.

"Mom?" Brad said.

"Expecting a burglar?" Evey said, walking closer to the fireplace. "It's colder than a well-digger's ass out there," she said as she rubbed her hands together.

"Where you been, Miz Evey?" Ralph asked.

Evey turned to let the fire warm her back and opened her mouth to answer when she saw the people gathered in her living room. "Why is everyone here?" she asked.

"Because dumbass over there dumped you on the side of the road and left you!" Brad said. "We were worried you froze to death or something."

"I've lived here my whole life, Brad. It'd take more than snow to keep me from getting home. I was going to call you and let you know I wouldn't be there until tomorrow. Got a little turned around and had to back track."

Fran wrapped her arms around Evey and hugged her, rubbing her hands briskly up and down her back as Evey shivered.

"I could really use a cup of coffee about now," Evey said.

"I'll make a pot," Joan said and walked toward the kitchen.

Joan braced her arms on the edge of the kitchen counter and released a shaky breath. She heard loud voices coming from the living room and tried to block them out as she filled the coffee carafe with water and poured it into the coffee maker. A door slammed and a vehicle peeled out of the farm drive. Joan jumped when a warm hand pressed against her back. She gathered herself and turned, expecting to see Monica.

"Are you all right?" Evey asked.

"I wasn't the one walking around in a blizzard trying to get home," Joan answered. "Your coffee will be ready in a few minutes." She turned to watch the pot fill. "I'm glad you're safe," she said.

"I took a short cut that didn't turn out as short as I thought," Evey said. Her hand found Joan's back again. "I'm sorry, Joan. About what I said in New York. I know it hurt you."

Joan spun around. "You don't know--" she said.

"Need some help, honey?" Monica asked as she entered the kitchen.

"How many want coffee?" Joan asked without taking her eyes off Evey.

"I guess everyone except Brad's brother. He left." Monica walked over to stand next to Joan and slid an arm around her waist.

"We'll be leaving in a little bit, too," Joan said.

"Brad and Fran are staying and going home in the morning," Monica said.

"I'll take Brad's car and he can drive Mrs. Chase's car tomorrow."

"You can both stay here. You know I have plenty of room," Evey said.

"I'd rather not," Joan said. She saw a pang of hurt in Evey's eyes. "But thank you for the offer."

The coffee maker bubbled out the last of the coffee. Joan took cups from the cabinet next to the sink and filled them. Evey picked up a tray and carried the cups into the living room.

"Sorry this has been such a hectic evening," Joan said, looking at Monica and seeing the question in her eyes. She slipped an arm around Monica. "Nothing has ever happened between Evey Chase and myself, Monica. I swear it."

"But you wanted something to happen, didn't you?" Monica asked softly. "I've known you were attracted to her from the moment I saw you together at the wedding. I'm not stupid, sweetie."

"I won't lie to you. There was an attraction, but nothing more."

"She rejected you, didn't she? That night you came to me."

Joan took Monica in her arms and held her. "I don't want to hurt you," she said.

Monica leaned back slightly and brought her hand up to caress Joan's face. She kissed her lightly. "Now that I have you, I won't let you go," she said.

"I know," Joan said. She did care for Evey, wanted to take care of her, and make her life a good one. But Evey had already pushed her away. Even a healthy ego could only take so much and Joan was a realist. There could be nothing between her and Evey except friendship. Evey had made that clear during her visit to New York.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A COUPLE OF DAYS after the New Year began, Brad pushed through the door to Fran's gallery, which was still a work in progress. She smiled when she saw him and continued speaking to the college student she had hired to assist her. The young man nodded and left to bring more inventory from upstairs.

"Decide to take a break from the hot co-eds?" Fran teased as she picked up a lithograph from the front counter.

Sure they were alone Brad moved behind Fran as she worked and slipped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "None are as hot as you," he said. "How's it going?"

Fran turned in his arms and kissed him passionately before pulling away. "I love you, Brad," she breathed.

"Wow," he said, catching his breath. "I'd have come here sooner if I'd known I'd receive that kind of greeting."

"It's not a service I offer to all my customers."

"I should hope not," he said as he nibbled along her neck.

"Uh, sweetheart?" Fran said.

"What? I'm busy," he answered as he continued to explore her neck and upper chest.

"We have an audience," she whispered.

Brad's head flew up as he was snapped back into reality. Two or three young women were staring at them through the large, plate glass windows that looked out onto the main street. He waved and grinned at the girls as Fran leaned closer and whispered, "Later, baby."

He coughed and felt the heat in his body rise as he took in the movement of Fran's hips as she returned to the art on the counter.

"Have you spoken to your mother lately?" Fran asked.

"She's fine as far as I can tell," Brad shrugged. "How about yours? I was surprised she didn't hang around longer."

Fran shrugged. "I'm a little concerned about her," she admitted.

"She just needs to begin a more active social life. Find someone she enjoys being with again."

"I think she already has and that's the problem."

Brad placed his hands on the counter. "You mean my mom," he said with an edge in his voice.

"I know it upsets you, honey. Everything Ralph told us upsets me. If even half of it is true, I don't know how Evey stood it. Now that Tully is gone she's as alone as my mother."

"She's still got us and Beth."

Fran put her hands on her hips. "Right. Like you give a shit about horses, and Beth's away at college. She hasn't been home other than one day at Thanksgiving since our wedding. She has no idea what's been going on."

"Then we should drive to Richmond to see her this weekend."

"Are you going to tell her about your father?"

"One problem at a time, okay?" Brad dodged. "First, I have to tell her that our mother might be..."

"A lesbian. Just say it, sweetie. It's not contagious and can't harm you."

"I know," Brad said, hanging his head.

"I got a phone call from the gallery I worked at in New York this morning," Fran said.

"They miss you, right?"

"They might, but Sal has a couple of new artists she thinks I might be interested in. I thought I'd drive up and check them out, if you'll be all right alone for a couple of days. I can stay with Mom so it won't cost anything other than gas money."

"I'm not worried about that, honey. When will you leave?"

"In about a week, I think." Fran said. She took his chin and lifted it to look at her. "It's just for a couple of nights." She licked her lips and said, "Later, okay?"

BETH CHASE RUBBED her face and sat up in bed. Her final year of nursing school meant she had begun actually working in a hospital setting, caring for patients. She had stayed up long hours before, but being up all night for the third shift was new and exhausting. She stumbled out of bed in her pajama pants and college t-shirt and made her way toward the coffeemaker. She started the brewing cycle before wandering back toward the bathroom and a shower, which would hopefully bring her fully awake. It was after lunch already, but breakfast sounded to die for. She looked at the clock in the kitchen and began preparing bacon and eggs. Four eggs would be about right, along with a dozen strips of bacon, toast, juice, and coffee. She loved breakfast. It was the best meal of the day no matter what time she ate it. She ran her hands along either side of her head and ruffled her fingers through her short caramel-colored hair. The best thing about short hair was that it dried quickly.