Lost Highways (A Valentine Novel) (17 page)

Giving Fate the Third Degree

T
hey started off for the carnival rides—Rainey had been attracted by the Ferris wheel turning against the blue sky—but on their way they passed the petting zoo, where Harry was like a kid, and Rainey remembered that he’d said he had never had a pet. Then, when they passed the pig races, they stayed to watch two complete races, and then they went back to the horse barn, where they caught the tail end, so to speak, of the Western pleasure riding, which Rainey likened to watching concrete set but Harry enjoyed, so she set herself to enjoy it, too.

Time had slipped away, and it was nearing three o’clock when Rainey said she had to go to the motel to get some sleep. Exhaustion had hit her with a suddenness, and she wanted to lie down so badly that she almost left Lulu tied to the trailer and went off to the motel. Thankfully Harry remembered the mare as Rainey was unhooking the trailer from the truck. He even walked the horse to her stall. Apparently he had sufficiently overcome his fear, at least of Lulu, who went along docilely.

On the drive to the motel it occurred to Rainey that she had forgotten to call and reserve a room for Harry. It was possible that the motel would be booked solid, with all the fair attendees and the rodeo people flooding the area. If they couldn’t give him a room, she would have to share her room, which was the only practical and polite thing to do, and if that was the case, she knew she couldn’t be trusted.

She didn’t mention any of those concerns, of course; she didn’t want Harry to know the nature of her thoughts at all. She sought to act perfectly cool, going on the theory that passion denied became nonexistent. This sometimes seemed to work, although she was perfectly aware that passion very often behaved like that unpredictable spark from the fireplace which can sometimes light unnoticed in just the right place and burst into a full blaze to burn the house down. Probably all she had to do was take a full look at Harry in his cowboy hat, or maybe have her gaze accidently light on the hollow of his throat, and she would end up throwing herself at him.

She was balancing precariously between anticipation and fear, and keeping her gaze downcast, when the clerk handed them each a key, separate rooms side by side.

“I’m goin’ to sleep for at least two hours,” she told Harry, as she opened the turquoise door to her room, letting the puppy go on in, which he did, as if to check it out and make certain it was safe for her.

Harry was looking at her. “Sounds good,” he said.

“I don’t want to eat any later than six-thirty, though. I like my stomach to be pretty empty when I go to race.”

He nodded, still looking at her. She thought she was saved from her uncertain passion because he had left his hat in the truck. And, too, she was simply too tired to face passion and all the fears it generated.

She picked up her bags, went into her room, shut the door and leaned against it, holding herself back from calling after him, listening to him go into his room and shut his door.

She set the bedside radio alarm for five o’clock. Then, down to her bra and panties, she slipped between the bedsheets, all parts of her body voicing relief. She didn’t, of course, fall directly asleep. She lay there listening for sounds from Harry’s room, but she didn’t hear anything. The people on her right came in and began arguing, something about where they were going to eat. The puppy jumped up on the bed, and she told him to get off. There was no sense starting that habit, but he looked so downcast that she put her jeans on the floor for him to lie on. He seemed pleased.

The phone rang in the arguing couple’s room, and this reminded her that she needed to call Charlene and check in with her location and motel phone number. She thought she would have to defend herself immediately, because she had not telephoned her sister sooner, but Charlene started right in with the latest episode of Daddy and That Mildred.

“Get this,” Charlene said. “This morning before dawn, That Mildred Covington twisted her ankle while she was gettin’ out of the bathtub, and she had to sit back down in it and call for Daddy to come help her out.”

“Was he in her house?” Rainey was a little shocked. It wasn’t like her father to stay at anyone’s house. He hardly visited inside someone’s house, although he would go up to the porch or stand in the yard and talk. If Mildred Covington had gotten him to go over there all night, she was making good headway.

“No. He was at home. That Mildred is apparently practical and takes her cordless phone in by the bathtub each time she bathes. And she just as apparently doesn’t have any girlfriends
she can call, so she calls a man to come over and help her naked self out of the tub.”

Rainey pictured Charlene’s head going back and forth for emphasis.

“The phone is practical,” she said. “She probably should get one of those call buttons. Mr. Blaine helps a lot of his customers set those up.”

“Uh-huh.”

She thought she could hear Charlene drumming her fingers.

Charlene said, “Daddy had to help her out of the tub and take her to the doctor, too.”

“Well, it’s good that he could help.” Rainey didn’t volunteer the information that sprains couldn’t be firmly diagnosed, and it could have been every bit the farce Charlene obviously thought it was.

“Oh, that woman makes me just want to go over there and jerk her head off,” Charlene said.

Rainey was beginning to feel the same way, which she thought was a silly sentiment. “Charlene, it is good That Mildred Covington can give Daddy something to help him through his time of mourning.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s gonna end up givin’ him a heart attack, that’s what, makin’ him haul her big naked butt all over creation.”

“If she hoped to titillate Daddy, I doubt she succeeded. His eyesight is pretty poor these days,” Rainey said, and jumped to change the subject by telling her sister about running into Leanne. “She’s racing here, too.”

“Then I hope you weren’t plannin’ on winning. Last I heard from Joey is that Leanne can’t be beat with that horse of hers.”

“That’s what I hear, too.”

“How’s Leanne doing? I have not seen her in…gosh, probably a year.”

“She’s pretty, just like always. She tried to be nice. She said she was sorry about Mama, and she about started cryin’. Did you know she and Mama were good friends?”

“Everybody was Mama’s friend. She didn’t know a stranger,” Charlene said. “And one time I went over to the house to visit with Mama and Aunt Vida, and Aunt Vida went on and on about what a good smart daughter Peggy was and what a no-good foolish daughter Leanne was. Mama took up for Leanne so strongly that I was a little surprised, but Aunt Vida is so thick she never noticed. I understood Leanne a lot better then. I guess she has to act stuck-up, with her mama always down on her. Peggy had her picture in the paper the past week. She’s been voted best teacher in the school district.”

“Leanne’s had her picture in the last three issues of the WPRA.”

“A rodeo publication is not the same thing in Aunt Vida’s eyes. For one thing, it is not a home paper, so none of Aunt Vida’s friends read it.”

“I met another friend of Mama’s, a Herb Longstreet. Did you know him?”

“No…I don’t think so. But good golly, Rainey, Mama would start talkin’ to anybody like they were a long-lost friend, and later, when I asked who was that, she’d say, ‘I don’t know. We were just talkin’.’ I don’t know how she managed to never get robbed. Speaking of robbed, what happened to your doctor?”

“He isn’t a robber.”

“That’s good. What happened to him?”

Rainey shifted up on the pillows and gripped the receiver. “He came on up here to Amarillo with me.” Her voice came out hoarse.

“Oh?” Charlene waited, and when Rainey couldn’t get anything else out, she said, “How deep are you?”

“Deep enough to need a lifeline.” She was a little surprised
at her answer. Until that minute she had not realized the depth of her emotion for Harry. She gripped the phone receiver as emotion swept her—doubts and fears, mostly.

“Well, my goodness. Well. This
is
a development.”

It was a development, all right. Now that she was looking at it, she was startled. She had not felt anything of this sort in a long time. After her failure with Monte, her passion for anything had pretty much dried out, and she had believed this was for the best. When one did not feel deeply, one could not be hurt deeply.

“Do you think you might marry him?” Charlene was saying, although it took a few seconds for her question to penetrate.

“No—good grief, Charlene. I’ve only known him for a few days.” The impression of her family seemed to be that she was flighty and irresponsible. Freddy had called her a dingbat, and Charlene had used the term
free spirit
.

“That’s long enough to get married. Joey’s cousin Mel got married to a girl he knew for just a week.”

“Well, with my track record, I don’t think I have any business thinking about gettin’ married again.”

She sat up, bending her legs. The puppy, who was now lying on her boots, turned and looked at her, as if seeking a cue to get on his feet. She thought that she didn’t have any business keeping a dog, either, and she was pretty certain Charlene was going to be annoyed when she brought him home.

She said, “It’s just that my vow of celibacy seems to be slipping.”

“Celibacy? When did you come up with that?”

“When I got divorced from Monte. It seemed the thing to do, with my record. And I wasn’t much interested in men, anyway.”

The line hummed, and then Charlene said, “Oh, my gosh, then this one—Harry, isn’t it? He’s the first since Monte?”

Rainey nodded, as if her sister could see her. “Yes…and, Charlene, this is so stupid.”

“Feelings are never stupid,” Charlene said in a scolding manner. “Feelings just
are
, neither good or bad of themselves, just troublesome. Are you sleepin’ with him? Is he there now?” She dropped her voice to a wild whisper, like that mattered over the telephone.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t call you if he was.” She looked over to the empty side of the bed, and Harry’s image swept through her mind. “But I wish he was. Oh, Lord, Charlene…I never thought I’d feel this way again. I know that sounds a little silly, but since I haven’t felt like this all these years, I figured I was beyond it. Now…oh, I’m just so confused. I don’t want to turn into a woman like Lila Hicks and have a path worn to my back door by men comin’ for a sample, and giving away so many pieces of myself until all I have is this horrible bleached hair and desperate eyes with bright-blue shadow.”

“No, you don’t want that,” Charlene agreed readily. “Even though I don’t think I should criticize poor Lila. And I think you are a far ways from it, since you haven’t been with anyone since Monte.” She sounded as if she were still mesmerized by that fact.

“Lila Hicks probably started because she kept thinking she was in love,” Rainey said. “That’s how I got married twice.”

“I think if he is the first to get you in this state since Monte, you can be certain you feel something genuine for this man.”

Rainey considered that. “Yes…but I don’t see that it makes a difference. I felt genuine love for Robert and Monte, and look how that turned out.”

“I see your point. And you really haven’t slept with anyone else?”

“No,” Rainey said. She was a little annoyed that her sister
kept belaboring that particular point. “What do you think of me, Charlene? I have never slept with anyone but my husbands, which is probably my entire problem. I am hung up on feeling such a commitment about sex.”

“I didn’t think anything, except that you are thirty-four and really pretty and healthy, and it just seemed natural that you’d have a man now and again.”

The line hummed.

“I never really thought about it at first,” Rainey said. “I was just so upset at messing up with Monte, knowin’ the reason I had gotten tangled up with him was because I had let myself go in regards to sex. I’d just been so
needy
in that department. Later, I would feel needy sometimes, but mostly I’ve just cried myself to sleep, or gone driving or riding. Really, there hasn’t been much temptation. I don’t meet lots of eligible men.”

“No, Valentine does not contain an abundance of available men,” Charlene agreed with a sigh. Then, “Oh, Rainey, you must have been so frustrated. Sometimes I’ve gotten so worried about what I might do if I lost Joey. I haven’t ever admitted it, but I just can’t imagine goin’ for years without sex. I do believe the teachings of the Bible—it is practical advice to have restraint—but a healthy woman going without sex is one thing that seems beyond me. Maybe if one loves God so much, sex with a human doesn’t matter. I can understand that, and I can understand gettin’ old and outgrowing the need for sex, or maybe goin’ crazy and not needing it, but by and large, most healthy women need it. I love Joey so much that sometimes I can’t keep my hands off him, and sometimes at night I’ve gotten so scared at the thought of what would happen if he died that I’ve woken him up to make love to me.”

For a minute Rainey had a bit of panic, thinking that her sister
was going to go on with details, which would not help her at all, but thankfully, Charlene stopped.

Rainey said, “Charlene, time just gets by, and finally you come to see that you don’t want a man for just physical things, and you can make it without one for almost anything else.”

Charlene said, “I guess. But it seems that if you’ve met a man who sparks your heart, I believe it is a blessing. He could be the one you have been longing for.”

“No. He’s just passin’ time, passin’ through.” Her heart didn’t want to accept that, she thought, which was the entire problem.

“Well…I guess you might end up being glad you let it all go right by you,” Charlene said. “A good rule of thumb is always to do nothing until you are certain. And I would say that I’ve heard a lot of people say they had regrets about havin’ an affair, but I’ve hardly heard anyone say they regret
not
havin’ an affair.”

“How many people do you know who have had affairs?”