Her figure was willowy, her features as dainty as those on a
Dresden figurine. Graying blond hair curled softly about a
face as pale as the double strand of pearls she was wearing
around her neck. Dressed in a full-skirted mauve wool jersey
dress that floated around her slender body as she walked, she
came into the room and sat down in a chair near Alex's.
"Honey, this is Alex Gaither," Angus said. If he was put
off by his wife's reprimand, he didn't show it. "Alex, my
wife, Sarah Jo."
Sarah Jo Minton nodded and, in a voice as formal and cool
as her acknowledgment of the introduction, said, "Miss
Gaither, a pleasure, I'm sure."
"Thank you."
Her pallid face lit up and her straight, thin lips curved into
a radiant smile when she accepted a glass of white wine from
Junior, who had poured it without being asked. "Thank you,
sweetheart."
He bent down and kissed his mother's smooth, proffered
cheek. "Did your headache go away?"
"Not entirely, but my nap helped it. Thank you for inquiring.
'' She reached up to stroke his cheek. Her hand, Alex
noted, was milky white and looked as fragile as a flower
ravaged by a storm. Addressing her husband, she said, "Must
you bring talk of breeding into the living room, instead of
keeping it in the stable, where it belongs?"
"In my own house, I'll talk about anything I goddamn
well please," Angus answered, though he didn't seem angry
at her.
Junior, apparently accustomed to their bantering, laughed
and circled Sarah Jo's chair to sit on the arm of Alex's. "We
weren't talking about breeding, per se, Mother. Dad was just
lamenting my inability to keep a wife long enough to produce
an heir."
"You'll have children with the right woman when the time
comes." She spoke to Angus as much as to Junior. Then,
turning to Alex, she asked, "Did I overhear you say you'd
never been married, Miss Gaither?"
"That's right."
"Strange." Sarah Jo sipped her wine. "Your mother certainly
never lacked for male companionship."
"Alex didn't say she lacked for male companionship,"
Junior corrected. "She's just choosy."
"Yes, I chose a career over marriage and having a family.
For the time being, anyway.'' Her brow beetled as an original
idea occurred to her. "Did my mother ever express any interest
in having a career?"
"Not that I ever heard her mention," Junior said, "though
I guess all the girls in our class went through that stage of
wanting to be Warren Beatty's leading lady."
"She had me so early," Alex said with a trace of regret.
"Maybe an early marriage and a baby prevented her from
pursuing a career."
Junior placed his finger beneath her chin and raised it, until
she was looking at him. "Celina made her own choices."
"Thank you for saying that."
He dropped his hand. "I never heard her say she wanted
to be anything other than a wife and mother. I remember the
day we talked about it specifically. You should, too, Dad. It
was summertime, and so hot you told Reede to take the day
off after he'd mucked out the stables. The three of us decided
to take a picnic out to that old stock pond, remember?"
"No." Angus left his chair in pursuit of another beer.
"I do," Junior said dreamily, "like it was yesterday. We
spread a quilt under the mesquite trees. Lupe had packed us
some homemade tamales to take with us. After we'd eaten
them we stretched out on our backs, Celina between Reede
and me, and stared up at the sky through the branches of
those mesquites. They hardly cast a shade. The sun and our
full bellies made us drowsy.
' 'We watched buzzards circling something and talked about
chasing them down to find out what had died, but we were
too lazy. We just lay there, talking, you know, about what
we were going to be once we grew up. I said I wanted to be
an international playboy. Reede said that if I did, he was
gonna buy stock in a company that made condoms and get
rich. He didn't care what he turned out to be, so long as he
was rich. All Celina wanted to be was a wife." He paused
a moment and looked down at his hands. "Reede's wife."
Alex started.
"Speaking of Reede," Angus said, "I think I hear his
voice."