To Trust Page 5

  “You just wasted one year. I wasted seven.”

  “Oh, honey, if we’re totaling, I think I can claim thirteen. But the last one isn’t wasted. It’s probably the most profitable of them all. What about you and Jack? I saw the way he was lookin’ at you last Sunday.”

  “Jack is my friend and always has been. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until I came back and found him right here. But that’s all there is, Tally. Honest. He means too much to me to ruin what we’ve got with romance.”

  “I see.” Tally rested her head on the back of the tub.

  “Don’t fall asleep and drown. I’m going back to the kitchen. Roxie is making a big supper and has invited Jack. Celebration, you know. I’ve been pulled out of the raging fires of hell. You’ve come to your senses. Mimosa is retiring. It’s like Christmas in July.”

  “Don’t open up that Christmas present called retiring just yet. The day Mimosa really retires is when they’ll probably start tossing around those nukes. Is Roxie cooking ham and baked beans?”

  Dee put her finger to her lips. “It’s a surprise. And banana nut cake and hot rolls.”

  “Blessin’s today,” Tally giggled.

  “Seems that way.” Dee left Tally to grow wrinkled all alone.

  Supper was served in the dining room with the good dishes and crystal goblets. Roxie sat at the head of the table. She’d dressed in a white pantsuit with a wide, shiny gold belt and big gold hoop earrings. Tally, Bodine, and Mimosa sat on her left; Dee and Jack on her right. A queen holding court over a table of ham, baked beans, fried okra, sliced tomatoes, potato salad, and iced tea. Banana nut cake and homemade ice cream waited in the kitchen.

  Jack passed the beans to his right and took the bowl of okra with his left. “May I say all you ladies look beautiful tonight? Roxie, darlin’, will you run away with me to Mexico after supper?”

  Roxie laughed out loud. “Jack, you’ve been a charmer since you were a baby. That’s not your hormones talkin’, it’s your starvin’ stomach.”

  “Then how about you, Mimosa? We can get one of those big old RVs and you’ll feel like you’re back on the road. Surely you’ve got ramblin’ fever by now.”

  Mimosa sipped her iced tea, her eyes glittering. “Let me think about it a minute? No, I’ll have to pass. Seen enough roads and country, but I’m flattered that you’d find an old woman like me interesting enough to elope with.”

  “Darlin’, the day Mimosa Hooper is old is the day the world comes to a screeching halt.” Jack raised his eyebrows, flirting blatantly.

  “It’s my turn?” Bodine piped up.

  “Bodine, my sweet princess-slash-pirate-slash-witch, will you hurry and grow up so we can run away together?” Jack never took his eyes off the eleven-year-old girl across the table.

  Bodine followed Mimosa’s lead. “Let me think about it? No, Jack, I wouldn’t want to break your heart, but I’m going to go to the moon, not Mexico. Besides, you’re just too old for me.”

  “Ouch.” Jack frowned. “Do you think I’ll be forgetting where I live and needing a walking cane anytime soon?”

  “Could be,” Bodine sighed. “Of course, not until after Roxie dies, though. She’ll keep everyone alive and well until she dies. Then I expect you’d better be real nice to Dee because she’ll have to help you find your walking cane.”

  “Roxie isn’t going to die,” Mimosa said.

  “I will if I want to,” Roxie said seriously.

  “Okay, enough about dying,” Dee said. “That’s not a nice conversation for Tally to have to listen to on her first day home. Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Jack, did you get the roses watered today?”

  “Of course,” he said. “See, Bodine is right. You’re already taking care of my memory problems. You’ll have to remind me every day to water the roses, to eat, to take a bath, to sit on the porch and watch the sun set.”

  “Oh, hush.” She slapped at him.

  He caught her hand midair and what passed between them electrified the room.

  She jerked her hand free from his. It wasn’t happening. She’d fight any physical attraction she had to Jack to the last breath. She’d never, ever put their friendship in jeopardy. Men could only be trusted until a prettier skirt tail walked past. However, friendship was a different matter. She could trust Jack with anything . . . as long as he stayed on the friendship side of the barbed-wire fence called life. When he crossed that fence and into a new category, he wouldn’t be a bit better than Ray had been.

  “You sure got a funny look on your face, Dee. Is the okra burned or the tea not sweet enough?” Tally asked.

  “No, the okra and the tea are fine. Just thinking, that’s all.”

  “There will be no more thinking at the table,” Bodine issued the order in her best imitation of Roxie. “Now Jack, you have to flirt with Tally. It’s her special day, and you haven’t flirted with her yet.”

  Jack smiled brightly at Tally. “My dear, you are as lovely as a spring rose tonight in that pretty pink dress. I do declare I don’t believe I’ve seen anything more gorgeous since before the war of northern aggression. Would you consider taking a walk with me after supper into the gardens?”

  Bodine nodded appreciatively.

  “Why, darlin’, I would be delighted after our evening on the back porch. But alas, I cannot, for you see I have given my word that I will go with my daughter, who is a witch,” she whispered the last few words. “Please don’t tell anyone, we would hate for the townsfolk to drive five miles out here to burn her at the stake. It’s just too dang hot to build a fire tonight. Anyway, I have pledged that I will take Miss Bodine Hooper down to the lake to see about finding a real frog that she needs to put in her brew. You see, we Hooper women must be changed into proper ladies. Bodine is working on a potion to turn us into socialites.”

  “They don’t burn witches at the stake anymore. They stone them to death. That’s what I learned in my witches book. Roxie, please pass the baked beans.”

  “We could fish while we wait on just the right frog to hop up on the bank and ask you to kiss him,” Tally said.

  Bodine put her hand over her mouth. “I’m not kissing a frog. Yuk!”

  “Then you will have to give up on finding one,” Mimosa said. “I believe the potion can only be made by tossing a frog into the black cauldron that has been kissed by the lips of fairest maiden in Murray County.”

  Bodine eyed her grandmother warily. “You’re not a witch, so what do you know about making a potion?”

  “Oh, but honey, that’s where you are wrong. All the Hooper women are witches. Ask Roxie. She’s the one who taught us.” Mimosa grinned.

  Roxie helped herself to another slice of ham. “Yes, that’s me. Trainer of witches. Buy Wal-Mart costumes when they’re eighty or ninety percent off the marked-down price, and it turns princesses to witches.”

  “Roxie, did your momma buy you costumes at Wal-Mart?” Bodine asked.

  “Of course she did, sugar. Or at least she would have if there had been a Wal-Mart back then. Now finish your beans or there’ll be no banana cake for the best of the Hooper witches,” Roxie told her.

  “Hooper witches. Roxie, how did we all get to have the Hooper name? Sally Jo, my friend at church, she says her grandmother’s name is Granny Freeman and that’s different from her momma’s name,” Bodine asked.

  Dee and Tally both giggled at the same time.

  Roxie shook her finger toward them. “Dee, drink some tea and wipe that grin off your face. Southern ladies don’t show their teeth when they smile and they sure don’t do it with okra stuck on them.”

  Dee clamped her mouth shut and winked at Tally. Both remembered the day they’d asked the same question.

  “Well?” Bodine asked impatiently.

  “It’s like this. I was born in Mississippi, and my name was Roxanna Delight O’Shay. I married your great-grandfather, who was Henry Clay Hooper, and we moved out here when he got into the oil business,” Roxie said.<
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  “I know all that, Roxie. What I want to know is how we all got the same name, Hooper?” Bodine said.

  “And like a sweet little girl, you will let your elder answer the question in the way she sees fit. So sit there and be quiet.” Roxie gave her a look that silenced her immediately.

  Bodine smoothed the front of her sundress and waited patiently. She didn’t fool Tally, who saw the stiffness in her spine and the way she toyed with her napkin under the table. Bodine was bored, restless to be on her way to a new adventure concerning the trapping of a green frog, and sorry as the devil that she’d asked the question.

  “So Henry Hooper and I got married, and the only child we produced was your grandmother, Mimosa Delight. I always loved that word. It reminded me of soft southern Mississippi summer days when the mimosa trees would be in bloom. Their petals all soft and pink. Their leaves all feathery and feminine. So that’s the name I wanted for my daughter and Henry said that was fine, as long as the boys had good strong names. There weren’t any more children after Mimosa, though, and Henry died when she was four. Then she grew up and ran away with a truck driver. The next year she brought Tally, your mother, back here for me to raise, since truck drivin’ didn’t have room for a baby bed or diapers. Her husband’s name was not Hooper. I don’t remember what that man’s name was, too many husbands and too much water under the bridge since then. But Tally was being raised up in a Hooper house so I went to the judge and had her birth certificate changed to Tallulah Delight Hooper.

  “That was too much name for me so I just called her Tally. Then six years later and at least a couple of husbands, Mimosa called me from the hospital to tell me she’d had another daughter. I told her if she was bringing her home to me, she’d better just put Hooper on the birth certificate. I wasn’t having a bunch of mongrels in my house. If they were going to live here, they’d be Hoopers. So she named the baby Delylah Loretta Hooper. Said it was for Delilah in the Bible but spelled it a little different, and the Loretta was for none other than the great Loretta Lynn. Then your mother grew up and married some guitar-picking, long-haired feller and ran off to Nashville with him. Ten months later she calls me up and says that she can’t raise this baby girl. Rules is rules. I told her if she was going to bring the puppy home, it was going to be a Hooper. I didn’t care what that long-haired feller said about the baby having his name. If he wanted it to have his name, then he could do the three o’clock feedings and buy the Pampers. Changed his mind right quick. And that’s why we are all Hoopers in this household. Only you are the last of the Hoopers, Miss Bodine. When you grow up and find a husband, you’re going to raise your own puppies.”

  “But what would my name be if my father had stayed around and bought the Pampers?” Bodine asked.

  Roxie raised an eyebrow. “Tally?”

  Without blinking and with a straight face, Tally said, “Your biological father’s name was Wallason Kadellosonovitch. His singing name was Wally Kadell. But your name would have been Bodine Delight Kadel-losonovitch.”

  Bodine was horrified. “Thank God you made her name me Hooper. That name sounds like a load of pure horse—”

  “Bodine!” Mimosa exclaimed before the child could complete her sentence.

  Dee buried her face in her napkin and laughed until her ribs ached. It had been years since so many emotions had run through her body and soul. Friendship. Physical attraction. Family ties. Bodine’s bad mouth. Roxie’s queendom. Throw it all in the blender for five minutes and presto, giggles deluxe.

  Jack tried to maintain his composure, but his handsome face disintegrated into a roar when he saw Dee’s shoulders begin to heave. Bodine was more like Dee than she’d ever be like Tally. But then Dee had been around the first four formative years of her life. Jack remembered when Dee got her mouth washed with a soapy rag for saying bad words, and it seemed like she was just about Bodine’s age when they rolled out her mouth with the least provocation.

  Roxie’s mouth quivered, but she kept the laughter at bay. “Am I going to get the Ivory soap? Even if it is funny, Bodine Hooper, you are not to talk trash. Especially at my supper table when we have a guest present. I have to admit that boy’s name would have gagged a maggot plumb to death, but you can’t be using bad language.”

  “I’m so sorry. Don’t wash my mouth out. I promise to try harder, but you got to admit that I was right.” Bodine cocked her head to one side and stared at Roxie.

  “Hit the nail right on the head,” Roxie said. “That’s the only reason you don’t have to bite off a chunk of soap and chew it up.”

  “Thank you. And one other thing. There ain’t a guest here. Are you going to need Dee to find your walkin’ cane for you? Jack ain’t company. He’s family.”

  “Girl, I’ll have a sharp mind when I’m so old Methuselah will look like a teenager.” Roxie shot another look down the table at Bodine.

  “Thank you, Bodine,” Jack said. “I’d begun to think I’d lost my place.”

  “Not you, Jack. We all know you’re part of the family. That’s why Dee can’t be marrying you. It’d be incest,” Bodine said.

  Dee blushed scarlet. “Where did you hear that word?”

  “I’m not a baby. I go to school and take health classes. They even told us about reproduction and the whole thing,” Bodine announced.

  “Knowing what something is and knowing when it’s not appropriate to discuss it means you are growing up. Little children say things when they should be keeping their mouth shut,” Tally told her.

  Bodine nodded her head. “I’m sorry again. This growing up business is sure hard, ain’t it?”

  “Yes it is,” Dee told her. “Now who’s ready for dessert? I’ll bring in the cake and ice cream.”

  Tally started to rise. “I’ll help.”

  Jack was on his feet instantly. “No, this is your day. Today you’re released from the tombs, so I’ll help.”

  Tally raised an eyebrow to Roxie. “So?”

  “It’s only been a week. It’ll take more time. So, no one can say a word. Not even you, Bodine,” Roxie whispered.

  Bodine pushed her plate back, saving both her fork and spoon. It wasn’t every day that Roxie made both a banana nut cake and ice cream. “Couldn’t if I wanted to. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Dee carried the pedestal cake plate with gold edging and set it on the table. A three-tiered banana cake rested on top. “Ta-da!”

  Jack brought in the ice cream canister wrapped in a tea towel. “Double ta-da!”

  Mimosa handed the first serving of each to Tally. “Enjoy this.”

  Tally scooped up ice cream on her cake, cut a piece off, and slowly put it into her mouth. “Heaven,” she muttered.

  “Remember how good that tastes when you get a notion to gamble again,” Roxie said.

  Tally gave Roxie a thumbs-up sign and kept eating.

  Bodine ate as fast as she could to keep the ice cream from melting. “Do we have to stay for the sunset on the back porch, Tally? Oh, no, I’ve got a brain freeze.”

  “Well, slow down, child,” Mimosa said. “The frogs have been down at Buckhorn forever. You don’t have to eat so fast.”

  “Yes, tonight we have to stay,” Tally said. “I wouldn’t miss a single moment of tradition this day. After we have our lemonade, then we’ll go to the lake. We can stay up late if they’re biting or if the frogs are playing hide-and-go-seek.”

  Bodine pouted. “Oh, okay. I’m glad it’s not my day to clean up.”

  “I’ll do the cleanup after we enjoy the sunset,” Dee offered.

  “It’s not your day either,” Bodine said.

  “No, but I missed my day for seven years,” Dee reminded her.

  “And you’ve got to be extra nice because you married a prissy northerner,” Bodine said.

  “That’s right,” Dee said.

  “I’ll help,” Jack said.

  “Southern men don’t do dishes. They take out the trash when they aren’t whining about a
football game,” Bodine told him seriously.

  “Oops! Someone forgot to tell me that,” Jack said. “So since I didn’t know until after I offered to help, then I’ll have to just suck it up and help, won’t I?”

  “That’ll teach you to ask me about manners before you open your mouth,” Bodine said.

  Roxie made drinks, and they carried them to the porch to watch the sun set. Tradition couldn’t be broken, especially not on a night when her whole family was home. Bodine sipped her second glass of lemonade and chased fireflies, then ran up to her room to change into shorts and a T-shirt, find her old fishing hat, and fuss at her mother to hurry up so they could go find her frog.

  Roxie rocked lazily in her chair. The sun put on a spectacular show. Bright orange, brilliant pink, red, and every color in between. Hot summer night. Cold lemonade in a tall glass with lots of ice. Appetite sated with good southern cooking. All her girls were home. Jack was there. Heaven couldn’t be one whit more glorious.

  Dee and Jack finished their drinks and went back inside to clean the table and load the dishwasher. Even though it had been years since they’d shared kitchen duties, they still worked together as well as they had in junior high. He removed the serving bowls, found plastic containers to put the leftovers in. She carried the plates, glasses, and silverware to the countertop to be rinsed and put into the dishwasher.

  “So what’s on your agenda for the rest of this Saturday night? Got a hot date in the old town? Going to jump in that big truck and go run up and down Sulphur’s Main Street?” he asked.

  “I’ve kinda outgrown dragging Main. Haven’t got a hot date. Don’t really know if I’m ready for dates, hot or cold. I don’t think I am. I may be an old maid. The crazy old woman in the red house out on the Buckhorn Corner. Don’t go too close to her or she’ll turn you into a lizard.”

  “Or a frog?” Jack snapped the lid on what was left of the baked beans and found a place in the refrigerator for it.

  Dee looked at him. Not bad, the way he filled out those freshly starched jeans. Right fine, the way his knit shirt pulled across his firm biceps. She quickly turned back to her job before he saw her staring. “Not a frog. I wouldn’t change a kid into a frog. Bodine might find it and boil it in her potion.”