lived in Kansas since World War II. He was in the navy, then worked for the railroad. Widowed, no children.”
“Did you ask her why they got married without telling anyone?” I sat up, eager to dish about his mom’s new husband.
“No.”
“She wouldn’t tell you?”
“Didn’t ask.”
“What? You didn’t ask? Why in the world not?”
“Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
I stared at his face. His expression was enigmatic, but I didn’t believe for a moment that this didn’t bother him. “You’re not mad?”
He shrugged; a flash of some kind of emotion crossed his face and was gone. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”
I lay back down and turned on my side, facing him. “I have a confession to make.”
He looked over at me, his face neutral. “Don’t tell me you knew about this, because if that is true, I’ll . . .” He left it open, knowing my imagination would fill in the blanks with something worse than he’d actually do.
“No, not exactly.”
“Elaborate.”
“Your sister Becky sort of told me your mom was seeing somebody, but she didn’t say it was serious.” I reached across the bed and stroked his forearm. “To be honest, I don’t think she knew it was serious, either. Ray told me they called your sisters and told them.”
He stared at me a long moment, considering this new information. “Mom called the girls? When?”
I hesitated, wishing now I hadn’t been the one to mention that. “Uh, I think, yesterday?”
“Fine.” He rolled over, turning his back to me.
“Oh, Gabe, don’t be mad. Maybe your mom was just afraid to tell you. You know, like you . . .” Then I shut up, realizing that pointing out how afraid he’d been to tell his mother about our quickie marriage might not be the best thing to say right now.
He rolled back over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not. I’m just . . .” He paused for a moment, and I thought he might reveal what he was actually feeling. “Forget it. Let’s just deal with this tomorrow.” He took my hand, kissed the palm, and turned out his bedside light.
“Sounds good,” I agreed and turned out my light. I lay back on my pillows, uneasy about how quickly he calmed down. To be honest, I almost wished there had been a huge blowup between him and his mother tonight. It would have cleared the air, gotten everything out in the open, settled things. That’s what Dove and I would have done. Then again, she wasn’t my mother. I knew from watching my friends and even the relationship that Dove had with my father that conflicts like this weren’t always dealt with as directly and quickly as Dove and I resolved things. It seemed that having that extra generation between two people helped lighten the animosity.
“Dream sweet, querida ,” my husband whispered to me.
I tried to discern his mood, anticipate what might happen between him and his mother in the next few weeks, but I only heard his normal voice, a little sad, but normal.
“You too, Friday.”
FIVE A.M. CAME TOO QUICKLY. BOO’S MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT bathroom breaks were going to be the death of me. Any desire I’d ever had about riding in the Christmas parade was long gone. Would Daddy totally kill me if I called and begged off? Probably, since I’d talked him into riding in the parade in the first place.
“Hud owes me big time,” I muttered, setting the table for the breakfast I wouldn’t be sharing with Gabe, Kathryn and Ray.
“What was that?” Ray asked, coming into the kitchen already dressed for the day. He wore a red plaid flannel shirt and blue Dickie work pants.
“Good morning,” I said, glancing down at my faded sweats. I thought I’d be out of the house before anyone woke up.
“Sorry I’m up so early,” he said. “Once I retired, I couldn’t break the habit of getting up at four a.m. I’ve never needed more than six hours’ sleep. Less now that I’m older.”
I poured him a cup of coffee. “No apologies
“Did you ask her why they got married without telling anyone?” I sat up, eager to dish about his mom’s new husband.
“No.”
“She wouldn’t tell you?”
“Didn’t ask.”
“What? You didn’t ask? Why in the world not?”
“Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
I stared at his face. His expression was enigmatic, but I didn’t believe for a moment that this didn’t bother him. “You’re not mad?”
He shrugged; a flash of some kind of emotion crossed his face and was gone. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”
I lay back down and turned on my side, facing him. “I have a confession to make.”
He looked over at me, his face neutral. “Don’t tell me you knew about this, because if that is true, I’ll . . .” He left it open, knowing my imagination would fill in the blanks with something worse than he’d actually do.
“No, not exactly.”
“Elaborate.”
“Your sister Becky sort of told me your mom was seeing somebody, but she didn’t say it was serious.” I reached across the bed and stroked his forearm. “To be honest, I don’t think she knew it was serious, either. Ray told me they called your sisters and told them.”
He stared at me a long moment, considering this new information. “Mom called the girls? When?”
I hesitated, wishing now I hadn’t been the one to mention that. “Uh, I think, yesterday?”
“Fine.” He rolled over, turning his back to me.
“Oh, Gabe, don’t be mad. Maybe your mom was just afraid to tell you. You know, like you . . .” Then I shut up, realizing that pointing out how afraid he’d been to tell his mother about our quickie marriage might not be the best thing to say right now.
He rolled back over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not. I’m just . . .” He paused for a moment, and I thought he might reveal what he was actually feeling. “Forget it. Let’s just deal with this tomorrow.” He took my hand, kissed the palm, and turned out his bedside light.
“Sounds good,” I agreed and turned out my light. I lay back on my pillows, uneasy about how quickly he calmed down. To be honest, I almost wished there had been a huge blowup between him and his mother tonight. It would have cleared the air, gotten everything out in the open, settled things. That’s what Dove and I would have done. Then again, she wasn’t my mother. I knew from watching my friends and even the relationship that Dove had with my father that conflicts like this weren’t always dealt with as directly and quickly as Dove and I resolved things. It seemed that having that extra generation between two people helped lighten the animosity.
“Dream sweet, querida ,” my husband whispered to me.
I tried to discern his mood, anticipate what might happen between him and his mother in the next few weeks, but I only heard his normal voice, a little sad, but normal.
“You too, Friday.”
FIVE A.M. CAME TOO QUICKLY. BOO’S MIDDLE-OF-THE-NIGHT bathroom breaks were going to be the death of me. Any desire I’d ever had about riding in the Christmas parade was long gone. Would Daddy totally kill me if I called and begged off? Probably, since I’d talked him into riding in the parade in the first place.
“Hud owes me big time,” I muttered, setting the table for the breakfast I wouldn’t be sharing with Gabe, Kathryn and Ray.
“What was that?” Ray asked, coming into the kitchen already dressed for the day. He wore a red plaid flannel shirt and blue Dickie work pants.
“Good morning,” I said, glancing down at my faded sweats. I thought I’d be out of the house before anyone woke up.
“Sorry I’m up so early,” he said. “Once I retired, I couldn’t break the habit of getting up at four a.m. I’ve never needed more than six hours’ sleep. Less now that I’m older.”
I poured him a cup of coffee. “No apologies
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