-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Julia Boudreaux
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Construction site
I'm worried
that Suzanne is
panicking over not being able to get
pregnant. Derek came over and wanted to take Travis. Jesse could have
done the easy thing and said yes. Instead, he decided to rebuild the
old tree house.
He's already started drawing up plans, making lists of all the
things
he'll need. He says it's a project that he and Travis can work on
together. Travis, unfortunately, didn't look nearly as excited. He made
some comment about him and tools not being particularly compatible. But
I suppose it's a great way for the two of them to bond.
p.s. Maybe at some point down the road we should think about a
pregnancy show.
Katherine C. Bloom
News Anchor, KTEX TV West Texas
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Katherine Bloom
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Soap opera
It's a
shame to hear that all that
scheduled sex and ejaculating into
cups hasn't paid off for Derek and Suzanne. I can only hope that when I
finally find a man worthy of having my child, I'll be
able to.
xo, j
p.s. I refuse to do a show on pregnancy, but a fun show on how to get
pregnant isn't a bad idea. Though first let's get through the pet
segment.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Katherine Bloom
     Julia Boudreaux
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: re: Construction site
Are you
telling me that not only
has Jesse's little vacation been
extended due to his son, but now he's going to play handyman in the
backyard when he has a huge tournament coming up? Though
I guess you're
right about the two of them spending time together.
Anyway, Kate, tomorrow's show is set. Though, Julia, are you sure
about
this?
Chloe Sinclair
Station Manager
Award-winning KTEX TV
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Julia Boudreaux
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Sure about what?!
What is
there to be sure about
regarding a pet show???
K
Â
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
TEN
First thing the next morning, Kate pulled up to the back of KTEX TV and
pressed the call button
at the rear entrance. She didn't have to wait
long before she was buzzed in by security.
The morning news team talked and laughed on air before cutting to an
advertisement. Sitting on the brightly lit set, they didn't even notice
Kate as she walked past, since the anchors and the weatherman were busy
pulling concealed powder out of news desk flower arrangements and
weather station props
to pat on noses that never got ' a chance to get
shiny.
KTEX was an award-winning station, but like much of the local media, it
didn't have a staff for hair or makeup. The on-air talent did their
own, fishing blush and compacts out of table decorations between each
segment.
Kate did the same thingâhad for years. But in addition to primping, she
included massive amounts of prepping. Today would be the first time
ever she had gone on the air without a clue about her subject. She
prayed Julia was right that having a more free-flowing style would make
her loosen up.
Before she gave another thought to the pet show, there was something
else she wanted to do first. She bypassed her office and continued down
the hall to the sports department.
Vern Leeper sat in his office.
"Good morning, Vern."
The ex-football player of about sixty leaned back, the springs of the
1950s vinyl and metal chair squeaking in protest. He was the sports
editor for the station, and despite his old boy facade, he was a
virtual repository of all things pertinent to sports. Anything he
didn't know he was happy to research.
"Good morning, yourself, good-looking."
He also thought he was a charmer.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"What do you know about Jesse Chapman?"
Vern whistled. "El Paso's very own prodigal son. What exactly do you
want to know?
"Anything. Everything."
"Don't you read People magazine?"
"I'm not interested in his love life." At least she wasn't about to
admit it to Vern. "I want to go deeper
than that."
"Let's see." He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk. "He's
a damn fine golfer. Could be one of the best. Though we'll see how good
he truly is in August when he competes in the PGA Championship."
"What do you mean?"
"The PGA is the last of the four major tournaments of the year. Every
golfer knows that if he wants a legacy that goes beyond having made a
good living, he's got to win at least one of the game's four majors. So
far, Jesse hasn't been
able to do it."
"All the great golfers win them?"
"Not all, but there's more pressure on Jesse to succeed than some
others. I have no doubt that he's good. But you see, he gets a lot of
attentionâand there are those who say he gets it because of his
pretty-boy good looks and his antics with the women, not because of his
talent. But what I have always admired about Jesse is that he never
succumbed to the taunts or innuendos. He has lived his own life, played
his own game, and now he's on the verge of proving the naysayers wrong.
That's what makes this tournament different for Jesse. If he can win
one of the majors, he'll prove that he's not just a pretty face."
She remembered the darkness that crept into Jesse's features. The
tension that flared only to have him firmly wipe it away. Was he really
less at ease being a bad boy than she had thought?
Vern steepled his fingers. "Jesse's coming up to a big tournament. The
pressure's intense and every sports writer is going to be watching what
he can do in August. This is a huge game for him. He really needs to
win. He needs to keep his head clear and his focus tight. How better to
do that than going back to his roots?"
"And you think that's why he's come back here? It's a place where he
can have space and no worries?"
"Exactly."
But his son had arrived, turning his world upside down. Regardless of
everything that rode on this single tournament, Jesse had taken
responsibility for Travis. Kate felt a sharp stab of amazement and
respect. No wonder Jesse hadn't seemed himself lately.
"Morning, Kate."
She turned and found her director standing in the doorway.
"Hi, Pete."
"Are you ready for the show?"
She extended her arms, showing off the casual slacks and sweater set
she had worn. It seemed a good balance between buckskins and her normal
business suit.
"You look great," he said. "See you on the set."
By the time she left Vern's office, she forced herself to forget about
Jesse for now. She had a show to
do, a show she needed to make shine to
help her stay employed.
But an hour later, when she walked onto the set for
Getting Real
, her
heart went still.
*Â
*Â *
Jesse and Travis pulled into the driveway in the black Jeep.
"I think we found everything we need," Jesse said.
"And then some."
Jesse laughed. "Yeah, maybe I got carried away. But there's just
something about a lumber store that makes me want to buy things."
Travis looked at him like he was crazy.
They had gotten to the Home Depot at seven-thirty that morning, then
spent a couple of hours there, Travis trailing along, trying to look
interested. In the saw section, the kid had gotten fidgety. "Are you
sure we should get one of those?"
"We've got to cut the wood somehow. You're not afraid of saws, are you?"
After a long second of apparent debate, he said, "Me? Nah. Love saws."
Now the back of the SUV was loaded with most of what they would need to
rebuild the tree house
Jesse remembered as a child. Everything else
would be delivered.
The minute Jesse turned off the car, Travis leaped out. "It's time for
Getting Real with Katel Quick or we'll miss it."
"You go ahead."
Travis didn't wait. He raced inside. Jesse hesitated, not sure he
wanted to see any more of Kate, getting real or not. But as if he
couldn't help himself, he dropped off some tools, nails, small rungs of
wood for ladder steps, and a saw in the backyard, then went inside. He
told himself he was thirsty.
The television in the kitchen blared, Travis leaning forward as the
opening music and credits rolled.
Then there was Katie herself, looking sweet and wonderful in her new
outfit. She sat on a sofa, smiling. But Jesse could tell she was
panicked. She looked at a note card, and her eyes filled with dread
before
she said, "Please welcome Mistress Reynalda." A long, painful
pause followed before she added, "Pet psychic."
"Pet psychic?" Jesse demanded.
"Cool," Travis enthused.
No question this had Julia written all over it.
A woman dressed in a long flowing caftan and a turban came out onto the
stage like a Middle Eastern queen entering her court.
"Hello," she said in a heavy accent. Sort of Arabian Nights mixed with
a barely disguised Mexican flare. She held two big white fluffy cats,
one underneath each arm. "Tank you, Mees Kate, for having me."
The woman arranged herself on the sofa, then extended one of the big
fluff balls to Kate. Kate's smile wavered, her eyes going wide with
panic when the cat put out its paws
like it was putting on the brakes. Jesse could all but hear her
thinking that even animals didn't like her.
For half a second, Kate held the cat at arm's length, then seemed to
remember the camera.
Fighting for her smile, she brought the animal as close as she could,
but the feline wasn't too happy
about the arrangement. It started to
squirm, trying to get away.
"Now, now, Mees Kate," Mistress Reynalda said in a soothing, if
condescending, voice. "Relax. You must be at ease with your pussy."
Kate froze, her fingers clutching the cat in a death grip of shock,
making it squirm even more. Jesse dropped into a chair like a piece of
lead.
"Mees Kate, please," the woman added as the cat hissed. "You must pet
your pussy."
Even on the small, twelve-inch screen, Jesse could see Kate turn a
bright shade of red. Then suddenly
she started patting the cat. Not
gently, not soothingly, but rather with a frantic, flat-palmed pat,
pat, pat
on the head, its eyes squeezing shut each time.
"No, no! Not like that. Here, let me pet your pussy for you."
With that, Kate jerked up off the sofa, and the cat bolted, flying
straight for the cameraman. Though this time it wasn't a simple carrot
that rocketed across the set. The cat must have attached itself to his
leg, because the camera whirled to the side until all Jesse and Travis
could see was the regular news team on their set, dabbing their faces
with makeup as they waited to go back on air. Instantly, the co-anchors
went stiff and drudged up bared-tooth smiles before the screen went
blank. Seconds later, an advertisement for Herb Harts Auto Parts
whirled to a
frantic start.
Travis clicked off the television, then the two males who looked so
much alike sat in silence.
"Wow," the twelve-year-old finally said. "I didn't think anyone could
get so red. And over a cat."
"Maybe we shouldn't mention it to Katie when we see her."
"Really? Why not?"
Good question. Jesse wasn't interested in explaining the pussy problem
because he had no idea what the boy did or did not know about a woman's
anatomy and the slang sometimes used to refer to it. And he had no
interest in finding out. That really didn't fall under the heading of
food or clothes.
"Most artists don't like talking about their work."
It sounded lame, even to him.
"Why not?"
"Listen, Travis, we have a tree house to build."
*Â *Â *
The second the show was over, Kate walked straight off the set and
grabbed her handbag from her office.
"Kate!" Chloe called after her.
"Not now."
With measured movements, mentally reeling off the name of every
president since George Washington, she left the building. Although as
soon as she stepped out into the bright sunshine, she realized she had
no idea where she could go. Certainly not home, since the last person
she wanted to see was Jesse.
So she went to the mall. Not the Sunland Park Mall close to the house.
She drove across town to the Cielo Vista Mall.
She didn't want to thinkânot about ratings, television shows, or cats.
She couldn't remember the last
time she had shopped or indulged herself
with a hot dog on a stick.
But the minute she walked inside the air-conditioned expanse, she heard
the first whistle.
"Look, it's Meeeees Kate!"
That got a few cheers. Though it also got more than a few
less-than-funny comments alluding to the episode.
"That's some kind of pussy you have, Meeeees Kate" was just a taste of
the critique that came her way.
Had everyone and their brother watched that show of all shows?
She was tempted to drown herself in the sparkling fountain in the
middle of the mall. Unfortunately it
was empty for repair and if she
dove in she would only give herself a good knock on the head. Though
maybe with luck amnesia would follow and she could forget pussies and
pet psychics and start a new life as a fry cook in a truck stop diner.
Too bad she couldn't cook.
"I'm the laughingstock of West Texas," she muttered, returning to her
car.
She took herself to lunch at Louis's Barbeque Palace, the darkest place
she knew, where customers couldn't possibly recognize her in the
dimness. If they did, they didn't mention it. She ordered a gigantic
plate of tangy meat, coleslaw, and potato salad and the largest size
Coke they had.
But before her food arrived, the door opened, sunlight brightening the
interior. She cringed and tried to hide when she saw it was Julia and
Chloe.
She considered diving under the table, but her shoes kind of stuck to
the floor and she really didn't want to ruin her new pants.
"We knew we'd find you here," Julia announced, sitting down across from
her in the booth, her Tiffany charm bracelet jangling against the
Formica tabletop.
Chloe sat down next to Kate, as always looking sweet and endearing in
her bangs and sensible clothes. "Are you okay?" Chloe asked kindly.
"I'm great, never been better."
"You're talking to us, sugar," Julia announced. "And you've just been
through a rough day at work. Who knew that Mistress Reynalda was going
to go on like that about pussies?"
Kate groaned, Chloe bit her lip, and then suddenly a laugh bubbled up
and Kate dropped her head into
her hands. "A pet psychic wanting to pet
my pussy."
Then all three of them were laughing until tears streamed down their
cheeks.
"It's really not funny," Kate chastised through her laughter.
"See, you're better already," Julia added, calming down. "Next time,
we'll come up with something different, something better." She smiled
at her. "We're the Three Musketeers, remember? We stick together."
Kate felt her throat swell with emotion and gratitude for her friends.
"I sure miss the old days when life wasn't so complicated."
"No offense, sweetie, but life has never been all that uncomplicated."
Julia waved a waitress over. "Two more of whatever it is that she
ordered. Thank you." Then she turned back. "Where was I? Ah, Kate's
revision of history by saying that life didn't used to be so
complicated."
"I haven't rewritten anything."
"Need I bring up your mother and her revolving door policy regarding
husbands?"
"Julia," Chloe reprimanded.
"What? We both know that Kate refused to learn new stepfather's names
until they made it past the six-month mark."
"That's not true!"
Julia leaned forward. "How many names did you learn?"
"I learned them all." Then Kate wrinkled her nose. "I just wouldn't use
their names until they made it
past the six-month mark."
"Ah, yes," Julia stated wryly, "not complicated at all."
Kate knew it was true. Growing up with Mary Beth was anything but easy,
or normal. Though the truth was, until Kate had been seven years old,
when Julia and her family had built their mansion next door, changing
the neighborhood forever, she hadn't realized that there was any other
way to live. Chloe hadn't moved in until a few months after that. Not
that Chloe or her life had been normal.
It had been seeing Mrs. Boudreaux that had opened Kate's eyes. The
beautifully ordered woman had made Kate realize that other mothers
didn't stay in bed for days at a time. And Julia's pretty white
ruffled
bed always had sheets on it.
Mrs. Boudreaux wore fancy suits, making her look like Nancy Reagan.
Kate's mother dressed in flowing garments that fluttered like gossamer
draperies caught in a breeze. Mary Beth had always been like a
fairy-tale princess, disconnected from reality. Kate had acted as the
bridge, tethered to her mother by
the fiery brightness and love that
Kate forced herself to remember all those times when the brightness
dimmed and the love seemed to disappear. As much as Kate hated all the
men, she had learned that a new man always meant the love returned,
doled out
unselfishly to everyone in the house.
As the years went by, Kate took care of Suzanne, learned to pay the
bills, ward off bill collectors when money ran low, and call the
divorce attorney when a father moved out.
All these years later, Kate couldn't have been more thankful when their
meals arrived, distracting her
from her thoughts.
"Jeez, you could feed all of China with this," Julia proclaimed. Though
that didn't stop her from digging inâwith all the delicate grace and
finesse that was Julia.
Between Kate's friends and every bite of the best barbecue in town, the
memory of the pet psychic
began to fade. Emotion welled up, and she
reached out and grabbed each of their hands. "You are the greatest. I'm
glad you found me."
"You know we couldn't let you hurt like that," Chloe said.
Julia pulled away. "Don't you two go all sappy on me. Of course we
would find you."
"Remember my braids?" Kate asked. "Remember how I was the laughingstock
because my mother insisted that I wear them?"
"They called you Swiss Miss," Julia said.
Chloe nodded her head in memory. "Kids can be so mean."
"I hadn't thought of your braids in years," Julia mused, after
finishing a bite of her meal. "Your mother should have been shot. The
only plus to your mother's episodes of self-involved melodrama was that
at least then she didn't make you do crazy things. Her idea of
motherhood must have been learned from a how-to book written by the old
woman in Hansel and Gretel. Did Mary Beth ever
try to put you in the stove?"
"Julia!" Chloe and Kate barked their surprised laughter.
"Fine, just wondered."
"Anyway," Kate continued, "you took one look at my hideous hairdo and
the merciless teasing I got,
then the next day you came to school with
the exact same style."
Julia waved the comment away. "I wanted to make a fashion statement."
"You wanted to make a statement that I was your friend. No one would
dare make fun of Julia Boudreauxâ or me either after you took me under
your wing. I wish everyone knew what a big heart you have underneath
all those feathers and glitz."
Julia busied herself by stirring her Coke with the straw. She had never
been all that comfortable with people's kind words and sentimentality.
"You must be hormonal or overwrought, Kate." She glanced
up and smiled
almost shyly. "But a sweet, wonderful mess of overwrought hormones."
All three of them had tears burning in their eyes by the time they had
cleaned their plates. And when they got out into the parking lot, Julia
reached out one last time. "I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetie.
Now go home. Take the rest of the day off to regroup. Then tomorrow
we'll come up with something new."
Chloe gave her a big hug, then the two of them were off in Julia's
Lexus.
Feeling better and hopeful, Kate thought she'd surprise Parker and stop
by his office, concentrating on
the thought of his sweet and gentle
kiss, the soothing flutter she felt when he held her hand.
But he wasn't in, and by four in the afternoon she had little choice
but to go home.
The minute she pulled up she noticed Travis's rental clubs set up
against the side wall. She could just make out a hint of the boy and
Jesse high up in the old cot-tonwood. They really were rebuilding the
tree house. A rough-hewn floor had already been secured to the old
notches in the limbs that were still there.
The sight raised her respect for Jesse even more. It was unsettling to
think that bad boy Jesse Chapman might care more than he let on. Did
she really know him at all anymore?
Travis and Jesse worked up in the tree. Rather, Jesse worked, and
Travis sat cross-legged, his fingers curled around the branches to keep
him secure.
It seemed impossible to take her eyes off of Jesse, who was working
with a confident precision. His concentration was intense. He held
nails between his lips, before he took them one by one, hammering them
home with three dead-on hits. If she hadn't known he was a golfer by
trade, she would have assumed he was an experienced carpenter.
But it was the distinct contours of his body that held her attention.
No shirt, bronzed skin covered with
a light sheen of sweat. Hips slim
beneath the soft jeans he wore.
Shaking the image away, she went inside and changed, intending to get
on the computer to work from home. Instead, she ignored the phone
messages, didn't check her e-mail. She returned to the backyard. With
her thoughts still beating through her like a drum, she crossed the
grass to the tree and climbed the newly hammered-in rungs.
"Where's Travis?" she asked when she reached the top. "I saw him just a
second ago."
Jesse looked at her for a moment, sexual heat competing with the
punishing Texas sun, before his eyes narrowed as if he was frustrated
with himself, and he looked away. He gestured toward the garage.
"Getting more nails."
Without waiting for an invitation, Kate sat down on the secured
plywood. Wrapping her arms around
her knees, she stared out into the
distance. Jesse went back to hammering.
"Did you see the show?" she asked carefully.
"What?"
"
Getting Real with Kate
. Did
you see it today?"
He seemed to debate, then sat back on his heels. She felt awkward under
the intensity of his gaze.
"Does it matter if I did?"
"Well, no."
"Good."
Travis climbed up, holding on carefully, cringing until he sat with
some security on the floor.
"Hi, Kate. What do you think of this place?"
"I'm impressed."
"Yeah, Jesse says it's going to be the best everâeven better than the
one that used to be here where
you threw your arms around him and
kissed him silly."
Kate's mouth fell open. "I did no such thing."
Jesse raised a brow.
"Okay, I might have. But I never would have thought of you as the
kiss-and-tell type."
"You did the kissing, not me."
Jesse chuckled. Kate muttered.
"Jesse said you were a pistol when you were young."
A pistol, she mouthed at Jesse.
"Said you were a pistol today on the show."
She whipped around just in time to see Jesse trying to cut Travis off.
"You saw the show?"
"We saw it, all right," Travis said with a nod of his head and a snort
of disbelief. "Those were some
cats you had. And who knew they had
thoughts? But Jesse made me turn off the TV. Did we miss the part where
you actually talked to them?" Then suddenly the boy stopped, his face
scrunching up as he glanced just beyond Kate. A second later, his eyes
went wide and he looked back at her. "Though maybe that was something
else we were watching. Not you at all. It was . . . Pet Detective. With
Jim Carrey. That's it." He cringed. "I'm starved. I think I'll go get a
snack," he added, then gingerly climbed down
out of the tree.
Kate dropped her forehead to her knees. "Admit it, I was horrible."
"Horrible? You're exaggerating."
She narrowed a glance at him.
"It was entertaining. Interesting. I bet you money not a single soul
turned you off today."
"You did!"
"Look at it this way. Good or bad, talk is talk, and no doubt people
will be talking after that show."
"Great, just what I want. All of West Texas talking about me."
"Not necessarily about you, wild thing. About your pussy."
"Argh!"
He leaped out of the way and down the rungs before she had a chance to
pick up the hammer.