Authors: Cary West
Kate heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened and Collin appeared carrying the packages from her shopping trip with her mother.
“Where would you like them, Miss Kathryn?” he inquired.
“Just put them on the bed,” she answered, before walking into the bathroom to take her medication.
Collin did as directed. It took him three trips and by the time he left, the bed, along with two chairs and the floor, was brimming with shopping bags. Jack passed Collin as he entered the bedroom, nodding awkwardly to the man dressed all in black.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” said Jack appearing rather annoyed seeing Kate returning from the bathroom. “Jesse has been fussy all day and needs to be fed. Marnie thought you might be upstairs-”
He stopped in his tracks, seeing the bedroom overflowing with purchases.
“Did you buy the whole store?” Jack exclaimed, and he closed the bedroom door.
“Not exactly,” said Kate.
“You said you were going shopping for a couple of hours, not the whole day.” His brow furrowed.
“We lost track of the time.” She shrugged, thinking,
what’s the big deal
?
“Did you forget about your son?” he inquired.
“No, I didn’t forget about my son,” she stated, trying not to roll her eyes.
“Well you’re the milk source, baby, and you left
nothing
for him to chow on,” said Jack in that know-it-all parental tone that she hated.
“I left two bottles this morning.”
“They were gone by two.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, watching her flutter around the room.
“You should have called me,” she replied, throwing it back on him. She would be damned if she would let him make her feel guilty.
“I tried but you left your cell phone in the bedroom.” He picked up her phone and displayed it for her to see.
“Oh Jack, I’m so sorry,” said Kate, allowing the guilt to sink in. “Where is Jesse now? I’ll feed him.”
“He’s with Maria,” he said with a frown. “He finally settled down and went for his nap.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Kate, feeling awful for neglecting her son. “It’s just that Mother and I were having such a good time together.”
“So I can see,” he said, looking around the room at all the packages.
“Mother took me to her favorite boutique, and after that we went to her hairdresser.” She walked up beside Jack. “What do you think of my new hairstyle?”
She flipped the new-colored strands and flashed a pair of happy blue eyes his way.
“It’s pretty—I guess,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I prefer it natural over those fake colors in your hair.”
“Well, I like it,” said Kate defensively.
“So how much did the haircut and all this stuff set me back?” Jack asked, and he sat on the bed, bracing himself for the final tally.
“It didn’t cost you anything,” she said curtly. “It was Mother’s treat.”
“Your mother paid for all of this?” he frowned.
“Yes, and we had such a good time too.” A smile, as wide as the ocean, beamed across her face. “I have never felt so pampered in all my life. Let me show you what I got.”
Kate rushed to the assortment of bags on the chair, like an excited school girl ready to show off her new treasures. She pulled out a black lace bra from one of the bags.
“This, I got for you!” She dangled it up in the air for him to see. “Do you like?”
Before Jack had a chance to respond, Kate tossed him the bra then went fishing through the bag for the next item. He felt the silkiness of the material over his fingers and a smile curved on his face. It felt nice—very nice—and he thought it would feel even better if Kate was wearing it. His hand ran over the tag and the price.
“Five hundred dollars for one bra?” He almost choked and the smile left his face.
“You must be looking at it wrong,” she said, pulling out another piece of lingerie. “What do you think about this?”
She held up a skimpy little negligee to her torso. Jack walked over to Kate and took the garment from her hands.
“This thing costs eleven hundred dollars.” His jaw dropped.
Jack went through the bags checking the prices. The more he looked, the angrier he got.
“Four hundred bucks for a lousy pair of stockings!” he exclaimed, showing her the price tag.
He looked at Kate and she saw his face turn a bright shade of red. But the piéce de résistance was the black gown draped over the chair. Jack looked at the price and almost fell over.
“This dress is eight thousand dollars!” He yelled so loud that his voice reverberated down the hall.
“Mother got it for me to wear to the party tonight,” she said in a rationalizing tone. “Jack it’s a black-tie affair. We even got something for you.”
Kate ran to the other garment bag and pulled out a black tux. Jack grabbed the suit and once more, his temper soared, seeing the price tag.
“You bought me a three thousand dollar tuxedo for one occasion?” His eyes flashed a flabbergasted green.
“It’s a good staple for your wardrobe,” defended Kate. “You never know when you will need to wear it again.”
“I’ll tell you when I’ll wear it again,” shouted Jack, seeing red. “Never! You got that Kate? Never!”
He threw it on the bed.
“You don’t know that,” she stated, feeling her emotions rise in her throat and she picked up the tuxedo and laid it gently on the chair next to her gown.
“Yes I do!” he yelled again. “Where am I going to wear a tux or you that dress again?” He grabbed the gown and the hanger bounced off the chair before falling to the floor. “ Have you lost your mind? You going to wear this to
The Wild Horse Saloon?
” He snorted and flipped the exquisite, crepe-like material in her direction.
“I don’t know,” she said, hugging the gown to her chest. “Quit yelling at me!”
“Oh, I haven’t even begun to yell yet,” said Jack in a seething tone. “We can’t keep this, Kate—any of it!” He waved an angry hand at the tux, her dress and the assorted shopping bags scattered around the room.
“Why can’t we?” she replied.
“Because I’m your husband, and I said so!” he continued to yell.
“You’re making no sense, Jack,” she said, trying to control her own temper. “I don’t care what you say, I’m keeping all of it—especially the dress.” She clung to it tighter.
“You’re forgetting our roles, Kate,” he said angrily. “If I can’t afford it, you’re not wearing it, so take it all back.”
“I’m not taking it back!” she snapped. “Mother has been very generous to us, and I will not insult her by not accepting her gifts.”
“Fine. Then I’ll do it for you,” said Jack, grabbing as many packages as his hands could carry.
“What are you doing?” Kate shouted.
“Your mother did this deliberately, knowing damn well I would not let you keep these things,” yelled Jack, and he headed for the door.
Kate ran after him and blocked the door preventing him from leaving.
“Don’t you dare, Jack,” she fumed with back pressed against the closed door. “Now put the packages down so we can talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” His jaw tightened. “Now are you going to move or am I going to move you, myself?”
“Fine. I’ll take everything back,” said Kate, not wanting Jack to start another war. “Except the dress.”
“What are you going to do with an eight thousand dollar dress?” Jack barked his question at her.
“I don’t know,” shrugged Kate and she started to cry. “It makes me feel pretty.”
Jack bent his head back and looked at the ceiling. He seemed to be counting as if it would bring him patience. He released a sigh, then shook his head.
“Fine,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I can keep the dress?” Kate looked up at him through sniffles and tear stained eyes.
“You can keep the dress,” he conceded. “But I’m paying for it.”
“Thank you, Jack.” Kate smiled and rushed into his arms, knocking the packages to the ground.
“You’re welcome,” he said, already regretting his decision. “I just bought a lousy dress at the price of what I’d pay for two mares.”
“Mother is going to be awful upset with me returning her gifts,” said Kate. “The least we could do is let her pay for one lousy dress.”
“It’s bad enough she went behind my back and did that to your hair,” said Jack folding her woven colors through his fingers. “I’m not about to compromise on the dress.”
Kate stepped back hearing his comment.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Her back arched in defiance.
“Next time you want to do anything to your hair check with me first, baby,” he stated in a typical Jack McBride kind-of-way.
“I wasn’t aware I had to ask your permission to cut my hair.
“Well now you know,” he said smugly.
Kate’s eyes narrowed into two blue slits.
“I never had to ask for permission to cut my hair when I was with Paul.” Her lips pursed tight. “He was perfectly content for me to make my own decisions.”
“Well apparently, Paul didn’t ask your permission either when he stepped out on you,” he replied. “Sounds to me like he was perfectly content to make his own decisions, too.”
“Oh, that was below the belt even for you, Jack.” Kate glared at him.
“I don’t know what has gotten in to you today, but whatever it is
, get rid of it, Kate
!” he snarled.
“I was having a wonderful day until I came home to
you
,” she yelled. “Your jealous, Jack, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”
“I’m not jealous, baby.” He glared back at her. “I’m just not looking through rose colored glasses like you. Open your eyes, Kate, and see what your mother is doing.”
“My mother has nothing to do with this!” she shouted.
“She has
everything
to do with it!”
“I can’t talk to you when you are being unreasonable.”
“I’m being unreasonable?” Jack threw his head back and laughed. “Take a good look in the mirror, and you will see who is being unreasonable. She’s flipped you upside down again and you have no clue.”
“Oh, I have a clue all right,” said Kate, and she marched for the door.
“What does that mean?” Jack yelled after her.
“Maybe Mother is right,” she spat turning the door handle. “Maybe the jury is still out about you!”
Kate flung open the door and stormed into the hall.
“Where are you going?” He hovered in the door-frame calling out to her.
“I’m going to check on my son,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“Fine!” he shouted, stepping back into the bedroom and slamming the door shut.
Jack kicked one of the shopping bags out of his path, sailing it across the room. He stormed into the bathroom and once more slammed the door closed.
“Damn you, Kate!” he growled, and banged his hands down on the bathroom counter.
He knew it was a mistake coming here. He should have never given in to staying with Marnie St. Claire. Now there was a rift between him and Kate, and he needed to figure out a way to mend it. But with Marnie constantly whispering in her daughter’s ear, it was going to be virtually impossible to get through. Jack couldn’t wait to put distance between them and Santa Cruz. He was not looking forward to another month of Kate turned topsy-turvy until she settled back down and got her footing again. It was going to take hard work and Jack needed to prepare for the next several weeks of emotional outbursts. He prayed he had the strength to endure it one more time.
GIVE EM’ THE OLD RAZZLE DAZZLE
Kate barely said two words to Jack while they got ready for the party. He’d be damned if he was going to wear that black tie get up, just to spite the old battle axe or maybe it was Kate? But either way, he was not going to wear it, and
that was that!
He finished dressing, as usual, before Kate, and since they were not speaking, he decided to go alone in order to give her time to cool down.
Upon entering the party, he realized he was drastically underdressed and stuck out like a sore thumb. “A small get-together, huh?” Jack grumbled under his breath, as he mingled through the crowd of elegantly dressed people and looked down at his not so formal pants and light blue shirt. It was more like a gala than a small party. His boots clicked on the polished hard wood floor as he moseyed up to the make-shift bar. He leaned on the bar top just as the bartender, dressed better than he, approached.
“What can I get you, sir?” he asked formally.
“Whiskey,” replied Jack, looking over his shoulder and seeing the pretentious fold of guests. “And lots of it.”
“Do you prefer single malt scotch or inlay?” the barkeep asked.
“Just a good, old-fashioned whiskey, son,” he answered.
“With or without water, sir?”
Jack looked up at the barkeep and frowned. He couldn’t order a single shot of whiskey without being flooded by high-society protocol.
“Without.”
Jack watched with disgust as the bartender retrieved a crystal whiskey glass large enough to empty half a bottle. Instead, he poured it until the gold liquid barely covered the base of the glass. Once more Jack gave him a cross look.
“Give me that!” exclaimed Jack, snatching the bottle from the bartender and filling his own glass until he was satisfied.
The young man just stared at him and then his glass, nervously twitching his eye like he could get in trouble for pouring so much.
“It’s all right,” said Jack. “I’m the son-in-law of the host. I can drink as much as I damn well please and she won’t bat an eye.”
“Very good, sir.” The barkeep nodded and walked away.
Jack turned around and leaned his back against the bar. He brought the glass to his lips and took a long drink.
“Not bad,” he stated, looking into his glass and twirling the gold elixir around in a circle, leaving a syrup line on the glass.
He stood alone watching the small circles of Marnie’s friends and acquaintances mixing small talk and presumably discussing inconsequential topics. Another man would have felt awkward and out of place, but not Jack McBride. He had just enough arrogance to not care what people thought or to feel out of place by their nonchalant stares.