6
Just then, a door opened at the far end of the room. "Welcome to Bar-LB." This was one of the women we had seen at the tearoom, the pretty one. She walked toward us. "I'm Laura Barnwell, director of the camp."
Biggie stood up and took a step toward her. "I'm Biggie Weatherford," she said, "and this is Ruby Muckleroy."
Mrs. Muckleroy stuck out her hand, the one with the big diamond ring. "So pleased," she said.
"And Julia Lockhart," Biggie said.
"You must be Rex's wife." Miss Julia never forgot she was a reporter.
Laura nodded with a smile before greeting each of us, ending with me and Monica. The lady shook hands and said something nice to every one of us.
"We'll have tea in the dining room," she said. "I believe it's ready, if you'd like to follow me."
"I reckon I'll pass," Rosebud said. "Okay if I look around outside?"
"Of course, if that's what you'd rather do," Laura said. "Make yourself at home. I think you'll find Hamp Caldwell, our combination vet and horse trainer, in the barn. I'm sure he'll be happy to show you around."
Rosebud went out one of the French doors while we followed Laura into the wood-paneled dining room.
Monica walked over and started examining the display of food piled on a sideboard along one wall. "Get back here," I hissed. Naturally, she ignored me.
Several people sat in tall-backed chairs with cowhide seats around a long ranch table under a deer-horn chandelier. Windows that reached from floor to ceiling showed a view of rolling hills dotted here and there with the same black cattle we had seen when we arrived.
Biggie looked at the windows with a worried frown. "Storm's coming— and it looks like a bad one."
Sure enough, black clouds boiled up from the tops of the distant woods.
"Tornado season," said a burly man, standing behind a chair at the end of the table. "Hamp's putting the horses in right now."
Laura spoke in a soft voice, but she somehow managed to get everyone's attention. "Everybody, allow me to present our honored guests from town." After she gave our names, she began to introduce the people around the table. She gestured toward a girl with short, black hair who looked to be in her twenties. "This is Rex's daughter, Babe."
Babe waved three fingers in our direction and looked at us with sparkling eyes. "Hey, everybody. Glad y'all could come." She bit into a baby cream puff. "Grab a plate and chow down."
"And this," Laura continued, "is Babe's husband, Rob Parish." She indicated a skinny guy. His thin, straight hair kept falling down over his eyes.
He brushed the hair back with his hand and nodded to us. "Gladameecha," was all he said.
"And this," Laura smiled, "the fellow with the weather report, is Abner Putnam, Rex's oldest friend and ranch foreman."
The burly man nodded and waved his hand toward the sideboard. "Y'all help yourselves, why doncha? We've got iced tea and coffee. Nobody around here drinks their tea hot."
We all moved toward the sideboard, which was piled with food that was anything but dietetic. I saw a pyramid of tiny cream puffs like the one Babe had been eating, just oozing with flavored whipped cream, a silver tray covered with cupcakes, little bitty tea sandwiches, and three or four pies. At one end stood a silver coffee pot and a crystal pitcher of iced tea.
Mrs. Muckleroy, loading up her plate, couldn't hold back any longer. "Where's Rex?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.
"He begged to be excused. But Grace Higgins, our dietitian, should be here any minute. I can't imagine why she's late," Laura said.
"I hope he's not ill." Mrs. Muckleroy wouldn't let it go. She glanced at Biggie out of the corner of her eye.
"Shut up, Ruby," Miss Julia muttered.
"Oh, Daddy's always ill," Babe said. "He's got aches and pains he hasn't even used yet." Her voice sounded bitter.
"Ah, here's Grace." Laura Barnwell passed around a plate of coconut macaroons. "Come on in, Grace, so I can introduce you."
It was the other lady we'd seen at the tearoom. Today, she was dressed in Eastern-style riding britches with brown boots. She wore a white Polo shirt, open at the neck. "Trouble in the ranks," she muttered, as she passed Laura. "I may need your help."
"Later." Laura seemed unfazed.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Abner left to answer it. I got up to refill my plate. From the sideboard, I could see the front hall. A strong gust of wind blew in as Abner opened the door to let in a blond man wearing a blue suit. He put his briefcase on a hall table and followed Abner into the dining room.
"Why Jeremy!" Laura looked startled. "What brings you here? And in this weather, too."
The man walked over and kissed her on the cheek. "Laura, pretty as ever. Hon, I have to talk to Rex. It can't be handled over the phone. May I spend the night?"
"Of course." Laura flashed a look at Grace. "Nothing's wrong, I hope?"
"I hope not. I'll discuss it with Rex tonight."
"Then have some tea with us. Rex is resting."
Biggie stirred sugar into her tea then turned to Laura. "So tell us about your program here. It sounds intriguing."
"Oh, Lord, don't get her started." Babe rolled her eyes.
"No, we'd all like to know," Miss Julia said, taking out her pad and pencil.
"Well, if you insist." Laura began to talk, and anyone could tell she was awfully excited about what they were doing. "Let me start by telling you why I decided to open a camp for overweight girls," she said. "It stems from my own past. I was brought up in Tyler, the oldest of four girls. My father was not the wealthiest man in town, but he was successful in the oil business and was active in many civic and charitable causes. As a result of that, three of us girls were asked to participate in the Queen's Court at the Rose Festival. My sister was chosen queen. Are you all aware of what that means?"
"Of course," Mrs. Muckleroy piped up. "That's the most prestigious event in the city. Only girls from the finest families are asked to be duchesses. And to be selected queen, well…"
"It means you have to be rich enough to afford the pageant dress!" Babe bit into a cookie. "Let alone all the outfits you have to buy for all the parties."
Laura ignored her. "My younger sister, Ellen, was the sweetest, most loving girl you could ever hope to meet, and the smartest, too. And funny? She was a natural mimic and could do impressions of everyone we knew." She looked at Biggie. "But never in a mean way, if you know what I mean. She just observed people and had a pure talent for picking up on their mannerisms. She wanted to become an actress, and we were all convinced she could become a big star."
"She was a natural," Miss Julia commented.
"Exactly." Laura nodded her head. "Ellen was smart, too. She graduated top of her class in high school. Everyone thought she'd go far in life. In her junior year, she sent applications to several colleges, and it looked like she could take her choice. They all wanted her."
"She must have been the sister who was chosen queen," Mrs. Muckleroy said.
"No, that was Beth. Ellen was never asked. In the week of spring break, before her high school graduation, mother decided to take Ellen on a trip up East to look over some of the schools. My sisters and I went along for the fun of it." She folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. "We flew into Logan Airport in Boston and rented a car. New England is beautiful in the spring, and we were all in a festive mood. We looked forward to visiting the various campuses and helping Ellen select just the right one." She looked out the window and continued to talk just as if she was reliving that trip. "The first school we visited was an exclusive girls' college. In their letter, they had seemed the most interested in having her. The campus was covered with cherry trees, just dripping blossoms all over the walkways that led from one ivy-covered building to the next. And the girls, they all looked happy and content to be there. Mother suggested that we visit the dean of students, just to get acquainted, you see." All of a sudden, a big tear rolled out of her eye. She blotted it away with her napkin.
Grace, the dietitian, put her hand over Laura's. "You don't have to tell this." Her voice was brusque. "It always makes you cry."
"But I do, Grace. Don't you see? People need to understand— they have to!" She turned back to Biggie, who was listening with a little frown on her face. "The trip was lovely. We visited four schools and were greeted warmly at each one. After that, we visited Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket. We drove up through New Hampshire and Maine. We ate our fill of Maine lobster and clam chowder, shopped at L.L. Bean, explored some lovely New England villages, then boarded our plane back to Texas satisfied that our trip had been a rousing success."
"Which school did she choose?" Mrs. Muckleroy asked.
"None of them. Something happened that made her decide to stay home."
"For heaven's sake, what?" Miss Julia wanted to know.
"Some of the other girls in her high school became jealous of her— because she was going East to school, you see. They began writing nasty notes and putting them in her desk at school. They started a rumor she was pregnant— by the school janitor! And you know kids; they believed it. The rest of her senior year was a living hell. My dear sweet Ellen became so depressed, Mama had to have her committed to a mental hospital."
"But why— why would they do that?"
"Because she was FAT!" Monica bit into her fourth cream puff.
Biggie looked daggers at Monica. "Was that it?" she asked Laura.
Laura nodded, wiping away another tear. "She was the only one of us girls who had a weight problem. She took after two of our aunts on my father's side. It wasn't her fault— it was genetic, don't you see? Ellen wasn't even a heavy eater. She just metabolized her food differently— and she was so sweet and funny, we never even thought about her weight until that happened. Then we knew we couldn't ignore it any longer. She was sick because of her size; it was as plain as day."
"I'm sure glad I don't have that problem," Babe said. "I never gain an ounce no matter how much I eat." She got up from the table and started reloading her plate just to prove it.
"Just wait until you hit forty." Grace glared at her.
Babe stuck out her tongue at Grace.
"So what happened to Ellen?" I asked. "Did she ever get to be an actress?"
"No. When she came out of the hospital, she was changed. All the spark had gone out of her. She didn't seem to care about anything anymore, and within a year, she weighed over four hundred pounds. The family was worried and urged her to look for a job in Tyler where we could look after her."
"Nobody would hire her I bet." Monica is my friend, but she has a smart mouth on her.
"That's right. She couldn't find work. She went to the community college for a semester and lived at home with Mama and Daddy. In her spare time, she would help out down at the little theater, painting sets and being stage manager, stuff like that. They never seemed to have a part for someone her size. By that time I had married my first husband and had a home of my own in Tyler. We used to go out to lunch from time to time. By then Ellen had lost her sunny nature. She hardly ever did impressions anymore or told jokes. We all missed her infectious laugh. Then two things happened. The first was, Ellen got a job. Oh, it wasn't much of one. She worked in the stockroom of one of those giant office supply stores. She spent all day loading heavy cartons onto shelves and pushing furniture around." Laura paused, thinking. "She seemed happy, though, making her own money for the first time. She even lost a few pounds. Then one day the store held what they called a Review Day. That's when the big shots from the regional office would visit to grade the store's efficiency. Ellen was behind a stack of heavy boxes working away when she heard one of the inspectors talking to the assistant manager. He said, 'Get that fat heifer out of here before she falls down and we have a lawsuit on our hands.' Poor Ellen got her purse and walked right out of there without even turning in her resignation."
"I can't believe it. How cruel." Miss Julia was incensed.
"What was the second thing that happened?" Monica wanted to know.
"The second thing was, she fell in love."
"Sad," Mrs. Muckleroy murmured.
"Yes, it was. She fell for the executive director of the theater group. We never knew why. He was a little, stooped-over man who had sparse hair and wore wire-rimmed glasses. I guess it was their mutual passion for theater that attracted her. Naturally, she never said anything to a living soul— except me that is. But somehow, the others found out. Ellen wore her heart on her sleeve."
"I can relate," Mrs. Muckleroy said. "I wear my heart on my sleeve, too. Don't I, Biggie?"
"I guess," Biggie said. "Did the others tease her or something?"
"Unmercifully. Theater people can be quite cruel without even knowing it. I think it's because they're both creative and maybe just a bit self-involved."
Jeremy Polk had been listening intently. "Now, Laura, that's a pretty broad generalization."
"Spoken like a lawyer," Grace said. "Can't you see why Laura might be just a little one-sided on this? You've heard this story, Jere."
"Right. Sorry, Laura."
"One night," Laura continued, "Ellen went in for a late rehearsal and found the cast putting on an impromptu skit about her and the man. It ended with the fellow running for his life while the actress who played my sister, arms outstretched, tripped over a stool and fell flat on her face trying to catch him. Ellen, tears streaming down her face, ran from the theater to the sound of hoots and laughter."
"That was mean," Monica said.
"She went to my parents' house, took my daddy's pistol out of the drawer beside his bed, and took it back to her apartment." Laura spoke in a flat voice like she had told this story a hundred times. "Ellen lay down on her bed and shot herself in the head. She left a note. It said, 'Don't grieve for me. I'm happy to leave this hideous shell of a body. I love you all. Tonight I shall fly with the angels.'" Laura hung her head. "My baby sister didn't need to die like that. At her funeral I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to protect other young girls from the heartache Ellen had to suffer."
"But how could you do that?" Biggie asked. "You said her weight problem was genetic."
Laura drew herself up tall and sighed. "That's where Grace comes in," she said, her face beginning to lighten up. "Tell them, Grace."