Рита Браун - Full Cry

“If you want to go home with Bobby, go on. You can pick up your car tomorrow or whenever.”

“I don’t mind driving home in the snow. Gives us a chance to be together.” Betty happily stepped into Sister’s red GMC half-ton. “How do you like your other truck now that you’ve had it a year?”

“Like it fine. Nothing pulls like the Ford F350 Dually. But I like this for everyday.”

“You had that truck since the earth was cooling.”

Sister turned on the motor, flipped on the windshield wipers, and waited a moment while the blades flicked off the new-fallen snow. “Nothing about this on the weather report.”

“Why listen? We’re right at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. We have our own weather system.” Betty shivered. The heat would kick on once the motor warmed up.

“Got that right.” Putting the truck into four-wheel drive, they carefully rolled down the long driveway. “What did you think today?” asked Sister.

“Hounds worked well together, and you were smart not to bring out the young entry. Even though we finally hit a good line, the patience it took to find it might have been too much, what with all the people.”

“Thanks. I’m pleased. Thought the T kids came right along. They’ve matured early,” Sister said proudly.

“Good voices.”

“Yes.” She changed the subject. “Betty, Xavier and others sure are upset about Sam Lorillard hunting with us today.”

“He’s not high on my list, but he’s no problem out in the field. I just hope the guy can stay the course. His brother spent good money on him. A one-month stay at a detox center complete with counseling dents the budget. The horrible thing is, half the time the people slide right back to their old ways. Look at how hard Bobby and I tried to keep Cody off drugs,” she said, referring to her oldest daughter. “She couldn’t or wouldn’t do it, and by God, she’s paying the price, but so are we.”

“Can she get drugs in jail?”

“Of course she can.” Betty sighed. “She says she isn’t using, but I don’t believe it. She puts on her good face when Bobby or I visit. She tells her sister more than she tells either of us. And you know what, I have cried all the tears about it I can cry. You birth them, raise them, bleed for them, cry for them, and pray for them, but they’re on their own.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that you might be glad to have Ray Jr. here even if he did drugs.” Betty exhaled through her nostrils. “I don’t think Rayray would have gone that route. Kid always had sense. Some do, some don’t.”

Sister slowed for a curve, “Oh, they’ll all try whatever is out there: marijuana, cocaine, ecstasy, the date rape drug. I can’t even keep up with the proliferation of mood-altering substances. I think all kids try it once. I worry more about alcohol than drugs. Our whole society pushes booze and drugs at you. The stuff I like to sniff is the odor of tack, horse sweat, and oats. Don’t even mind the manure. And I like the sweet scent of my hounds, too.”

“Heaven.” Betty put her hands up to the heating vent. “Doesn’t matter what any authority decrees in any century, people will take whatever makes them feel good. You and I have one kind of body chemistry, Cody and Sam have another. And who knows why?”

“Big Ray drank, but he controlled it. He could go months without a drink and then maybe knock back four at a party one night.”

“He was tall though. He could handle it better than a pip-squeak.” She turned to observe Broad Creek, swollen and flowing swiftly under the state bridge on Soldier Road. “Another day of this, and that water will jump the banks.”

“We were lucky we didn’t run into trouble today.”

“I thought of that, too.” Betty turned to look at Sister. “Want to hear something crazy?”

“You’re talking to the right woman.”

“I feel younger, stronger, and better now than I have for years—years. Cruel as this sounds, I think it’s because Cody is put away. She can’t come home and drag me down. She can’t call from Los Angeles or Middleburg or Roger’s Corner.” Betty mentioned the convenience store located at the intersection of Soldier Road and White Cat Road. “I’m free. She’s in jail, but I’m free. My energy is my own.”

“I understand that.”

“I didn’t at first. I thought I was a terrible mother. Bobby set me right.” A glow infused her voice. “How did I have the sense to marry that man? He’s not the best-looking guy in the world. When I was young, I thought I was going to marry someone handsome, rich, all that. But he persevered. The more he did, the more I got a look at his good character. He’s a wonderful man, a loving husband, and a loving father. I am one lucky woman.”

“He’s lucky, too.” Sister pulled off Soldier Road onto the dirt state road, considered a tertiary road by the highway department. Snow was deeper here.

“Thank you, Jane. You’re a good-looking woman. I hope you find someone again.”

“I thought about it for a time after Big Ray’d been dead two years or so, but then it faded away.” She turned onto the farm road, snow falling harder now. “I thought I was past that until Walter returned to the hunt club two years ago. Last time I saw Walter, he was on his way to college. Once Walter was hunting with us, I felt so drawn to him. It was physical. Shaker finally told me, bless his heart. Wasn’t easy for Shaker. Maybe I knew without knowing.”

“Everyone knew but you and Walter.”

“That he’s Ray’s natural son?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Stirred me up. Not that Walter is going to sleep with me. The man is in his middle thirties and I’ll be seventy-two this August. Or is it seventy-three?” She giggled for a moment. “Can’t believe it, no matter what the number is. Christ, the years fly by so damned fast I can’t keep track. But I woke up, or my body woke up, or something. You’re sweet to tell me I look good, but Betty, how many men are going to look at me unless they’re eighty? The game’s over for me.”

“It’s New Year’s Day. Want to make a bet?”

“How much?”

“One hundred dollars.”

“Betty!”

“I bet you one hundred dollars that a man does come into your life before December thirty-first. Deal?”

“Easiest one hundred dollars I’ll ever make.” Sister laughed as she pulled into the stable yard.

In the stable, the two women checked their horses. Having left the breakfast early, Sari and Jennifer had gotten all the chores done. The radio hummed, on low for the horses. The news was reported on the hour.

“Hey, did you hear that?” Betty, standing next to the radio, called over to Sister, who was checking water buckets.

“Not paying attention.”

“The first guy, the one they found dead the night of the twenty-seventh, Saturday? Well, he was full of alcohol to the gills, but hemlock as well.”

“What?” Sister paused for a moment.

“He drank hemlock, just like Socrates.”

“On purpose?” Sister was incredulous.

“And this morning they found another one frozen down at the train station. Dead.”

The two women looked at each other. Sister said, “What on earth is going on?”

CHAPTER 7

Clay and Isabelle Berry loved to entertain. Their modern house, built on a ridge, enjoyed sweeping views of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Because each of their rooms opened into other rooms or onto a patio, people rarely became bottled up in narrow door openings at their parties.

The floors, polished and gleaming, were hard walnut, stained black. Izzy, as Isabelle preferred to be called since she was named after her mother, Big Isabelle, fell under the spell of minimalism. Every piece of furniture in the house had been built to fit that house. Each piece, a warm beige, complemented the lighter beige walls.