Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey (16 page)

B
roken Bow, Oklahoma, Day 10 – Thursday

Libby awoke to absolute silence. As she lay in bed trying to remember where she was, a smile eased over her face. She stretched across the bed, then lifted the curtain to view the Kingston house across the pond.

“Oh! How beautiful!” Libby remarked at the old home. A large front porch stretched across the front of the whitewashed, two-story home that sat on a small hill across the pond. Libby heard an occasional faint quack from the flock of ducks leisurely floating in the still pond. Libby rose, stretching, then climbed out of bed to begin her day. After the coffee pot began to sputter, she glanced out the door to see if there was any movement in the house. Seeing none, she decided to leave the door opened to let Joe know she was awake. Blowing on her steaming cup of coffee, she made her way back to the bedroom to dress in her favorite white-jean shorts and a bright yellow, smiley-faced tee-shirt.

Just as she finished brushing her hair, her cellphone rang. Joe’s name was on the caller ID.

“Hey, you,” she smiled.

“Hey yourself. You’re up early.”

“Look who’s talkin’! I thought you superstars slept in,” she laughed.

“Yeah, right. I woke up, thinkin’ about you...over there...all alone,” his voice purred in such a seductive, dreamy tone, Libby glowed at the sound of it.

“Aww, that’s such a shame.”

“
Exactly
what I was thinkin’!” he laughed.

“Did I wake you up from your beauty sleep?” she giggled.

“Well, I guess I’ve got all the ‘purdy’ for whatever this day holds, thank you ma’am. Somehow, somethin’s change’n—soon, ‘cause this scene… just doesn’t fly. So, are you comin’ over here, or am I comin’ there?”

“Well, Mr. King. I guess I’ll come over there. It wouldn’t seem very hospitable…I mean, I wouldn’t want your Mom to think I was over here—corrupting you in any way,” Libby laughed.

“Ha! Darlin’ I think that’d be the other way around. Git those beautiful bones over here!”

“Okay. See you in a minute.”

Libby grabbed her coffee cup and lid, slipped into her sneakers and climbed down from the RV, leaving the door open but closing the screen door.

As always, she struggled to put the lid on the cup while she walked, and finally stopped to force it down. “I need a new cup!” she uttered as she struggled. Walking across the dam, she saw Joe standing on the front porch, freshly shaved with wet hair coffee cup in hand. He met her half-way across the yard with a big kiss and hug.

“There’s a site for my sore eyes.”

“How’d ya sleep…in your very own bed?” Libby asked as she fingered hair from his face and let her palm linger on the side of his face.

“Pretty good…could’a had a bigger smile this morning,’” Joe gave her a wicked smile as he took her hand in his and led her into the house.

“But it was mostly restful. And you?”

“Great.”

“Mom’s already in the kitchen,” Joe snickered, she lives for company.

“How long’s it been since you’ve been home?” Libby asked as he opened the door for her to enter.

“Couple years. They’ve come to see us on the road, like Christmas last year in Branson. We see each other when we can, but it never seems like enough. It’s nice to be home. I’m glad we had the chance to do this. It’s even better…’cause you’re here, too.”

They entered the kitchen where Lee was humming a tune while stirring a pot.

“Well! There you two are! I see you both already have coffee. Libby, now make yourself at home. Anything you see...help yourself,” Lee smiled.

Libby glanced at Joe, raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Yup, anythin’,” Joe chortled as he led her to a barstool, then poured himself a refill. He held the pot up to Libby, and she shook her head in reply.

“Mrs. Kingston, can I give you hand with anything?” Libby offered.

“Honey, it’s Lee, and I’ve got it all under control for now, but thanks.”

Libby smiled, “Lee. If there’s anything I can do, just say so. I remember how Mama was with her kitchen. We always knew...it was HER kitchen.”

“Oh? Tell me about your folks, Libby.”

Libby smiled a sad smile, studying her coffee cup for words. Joe took the stool behind her as she faced Lee.

“Dad had bright red hair and big blue eyes, and he a great attitude about everything in life; he was always quoting proverbs—like the fortune cookie kind,” Libby laughed. “Sometimes it was the biblical kind, too. He was high school principal. He loved his job and everybody loved him; he was well-suited for his job. Mom was an English teacher--until I came along. They used to tell me I was the best surprise they ever had. She didn’t go back to school after I was born, so Mom and I were always together when I was a kid. She loved music. She taught voice, guitar and piano part-time at home—which is near Charleston. Our house was
always
filled with music. Thinking back, even the bad music was good,” Libby laughed, tears in her eyes at the memories.

“My brother, Tommy, was thirteen when I was born. He had bright red hair, just like Dad.”

“Wow! That’s quite the age difference! Joe and Chuck are just four years apart, and Ricky is five years younger than Chuck. I know that the nine years between Joe and Ricky made things interesting. But, Joe always helped me with the boys. He and Ricky didn’t get to really bond like he did with Chuck, because he was in bands when he was what, fifteen? My Joe was always gone!”

“We manage just fine, Ma. Rick and I get along just fine,” Joe added.

Lee waved the nearby dishrag at Joe in frustration. “I know, I’m just sayin’…oh never mind, Libby, go on!”

“Tommy was athletic, and very smart. He loved football, softball, even long-distance running. He graduated from high school a year early and went to the College of Charleston. He met Tara, his wife, there when he was eighteen. She was older than he was—by a couple years, I think. They got married after he graduated. She worked for the medical university in research. He went to grad school at night and taught school, too.

“When I was nine, Tara got pregnant with Megan. Tara found out just before Megan’s third birthday that she had cancer. She died just over a year later. Come to think of it, I’m 29—the same age as when Tara died. Hmmm…I hadn’t thought of that!

“Well, Megan was already staying at our house more than she did Tommy’s. After Tara died, I think Tommy hated to be alone—it’s really sad--he never really dated anybody else. He had a hard time losing Tara. Megan’s always seemed more like a little sister than a niece. We’ve sorta…grown up together, I guess you could say.

“Oh, Libby, that’s tragic! Your poor brother,” Lee’s serious expression made Libby smile appreciatively. Joe put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Well, thanks. Some folks just have that lot in life I guess. You can’t really make sense of it all…and I guess that’s the only way it’s all made sense to me.”

“That’s true. Some people just seem to have more on their plate to deal with than others. I guess you never know…till you walk in someone’s shoes…what’s happening in their world,” Lee reasoned. “Megan’s doing okay now, though, right? How old is she?”

“Aw, she’s great. Here…here’s her picture,” Libby pulled her phone from her pocket and showed Lee and Joe the picture of the bubbly, blue-eyed girl with bright red hair.

“Oh, she’s beautiful! Look at that hair!” Lee exclaimed.

Joe smiled and nodded. “She is…apples…trees. I mean, she’s got such a gorgeous aunt and all,” Joe winked at Libby.

“Thanks. She’s very special. She never gets down. She brightens the darkest room, just by walking in,” Libby beamed as she smiled at the image. When the screen went dark, the smile faded.

Lee stirred her grits, then lowered the heat. As Libby’s story continued, she checked the pasty biscuits in the oven.

“So, what brings you out in your RV? And alone! My goodness girl! I’d be terrified to be out in this world all alone.” Lee asked. Leaning against the counter, she listened intently.

“Well, in October, my senior year in high school, I was working on college applications when Mom’s best friend, Grace, came over. She was looking for a receptionist and asked if I wanted a job after school. I jumped on it...thinking it’d be great to earn some extra money, especially planning for college. I loved working there. By spring I was handling bookings, researching itineraries and stuff.

“My favorite English teacher came in one day to start planning his summer vacation with his wife. Mr. Stone gave me my love of journaling, as a matter of fact. I loved his class. He told me one day that he actually created assignments just so he could read my journals,” Libby laughed.

“Anyway, he wanted to take his wife to the Grand Canyon, and so I started doing research for him. I’ll never forget: the first image that appeared on my computer was
The Freedom Festival
—hot air balloons floating over the Grand Canyon. From then on, I was hooked. I’d find calendars with balloons, and when the year was up I’d pick my favorite shots and frame them. Everyone gave me grief at the agency, but I loved them. They inspired me...somehow.

“So, that’s why you had to go to the Grand Canyon...okay, it makes sense.” Joe rubbed her shoulders.

Libby smiled and glanced back at him, “Ten years…I waited to do that.”

“I’m glad you left me then...that’s a long time to hold onto a dream,” Joe smiled and moved his stool closer to Libby.

“And to think! You’re picking up strange men! Your Momma must’ve had choice words for you when she heard about that!” Lee exclaimed with a laugh.

Libby smiled and looked into her empty coffee cup.

Lee laughed, “I’m just so happy you’re here!” She walked over to Joe and hugged him. “I’m not making ANY plans, cause I don’t want to miss a thing! Libby, we have horses—you kids can go riding if you’d like! We have the pond for swimming, or there’s a pool, but one of you boys needs to clean it first.”

Loud footsteps from the stairs announced a newcomer as Chuck appeared in the doorway. “Mornin’,” he offered cheerfully.

Lee crossed the floor and gave him a kiss and hug. He lifted her off the ground for a moment. As her feet gently returned to the floor, she tousled his long hair and laughed, “Get a cup, Chuck.”

“Oh, I’m so thankful my boys are home!” Lee glowed as she returned to stir her pot.

“Breakfast’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Somebody needs to go shake Rick outta bed. Your father ate hours ago, but he said he wants to join us when we do. He’s down at the barn. Joe, give your Dad a ring and tell him to come on.”

Joe climbed off his stool and grabbed the phone from the wall. He pressed a button and waited. “Pop, breakfast in ten.” After a reply, he smiled and hung up the phone, then went to the cabinet for plates. Libby joined him, and the two began setting the table. After her hands were empty of dishes, he grabbed her and held her close.

“I’m glad you’re here…really glad.”

She nodded against his shoulder and held on tightly as a tear puddled in her eye.

* * *

The family gathered around the table for breakfast for lively discussion. An hour later, the dishes were again clean and the group took coffee onto the porch. Chuck brought his guitar and tried unsuccessfully to convince his hand to hold chords. After a few minutes, he gave up with a sigh. Joe took it from him, and began playing softly. The group grew quiet as the soft melody filled the air.

“Ah...I sure miss that sound,” Lee whispered as tears filled her eyes, and she smiled at Joe.

Giving her a wink, he continued playing the tune. Rick took his cup into the house, returning with pappy. The two began playing songs, occasionally laughing when one or the other played wrong notes or forgot melodies.

Libby looked around the family, remembering her childhood and her own family, doing the exact same thing on their front porch, playing music and singing songs. She smiled as she wiped a tear. Joe caught a glimpse and smiled at her. He laid his head back on his chair and watched her intently.

“You okay, babe?”

She smiled and nodded, settling into her chair as voices were raised in song. She drew her knees to her chest and closed her eyes to listen to the melody. Behind her eyes, she saw Maggie sitting on their front porch as her long fingers deftly picked melodies on the guitar in her lap. Libby snuggled against Tom, and Tommy kept rhythm against anything within reach.

So caught up in the memory, she was oblivious to the tear rolling down her cheek. The Kingston clan fell into harmony in their song, often laughing or talking as the song rolled along. As Chuck painfully attempted to pluck his guitar, Joe glanced back at Libby and noticed the tears streaming down her face. He stopped suddenly and knelt by her chair.

“What’s wrong? Libby, are you okay?” he quietly wiped the tears with one hand as he laid the guitar on the floor with the other. Chuck played on, oblivious to everyone else, as one by one the family noticed Joe and Libby.

Libby opened her eyes, realizing where she was and that her tears disrupted the party.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I guess I got lost in the song, and…” her voice trailed off as her embarrassment rose. “I’m so sorry!” she whispered, quickly wiped her cheeks. Her tears wouldn’t stop, however.

“What’s wrong?” Joe hugged her tightly.

“Memories,” she choked.

By now, Chuck realized nobody else was singing and stopped picking at his guitar. All eyes were on Joe and Libby, and Lee was on the edge of her seat with concern etched on her face.

Libby’s face grew dark. She glanced back at Joe, asking “Do you remember that kid...an actor named Brandon Harrison?”

“Yeah, vaguely. Isn’t he dead? Hey, wait…don’t tell me you dated him,” Joe smiled.

Libby shook her head, “No. I mean, yes, he died from a drug overdose when he was 21. Well, he was shooting some football movie in Clemson the summer after I graduated. While he was there, he celebrated his seventeenth birthday. His manager, a monster named Charles Boyett, threw him a party. Witnesses saw Boyett bring in cases of alcohol and hand a bottle of whiskey to Harrison, wishing him happy birthday. He partied hard, so they say. It wasn’t just his birthday, it was also July 4th.