The Barefoot Summer

“Will do,” she said, not trusting herself to say more.

She drove all the way home and had parked in front of the cabin before she realized that she’d left her sandals lying in his yard. She was still barefoot.





CHAPTER TWELVE

Amanda climbed the three flights of outside steps to her apartment, opened the door, and flipped the light switch. It was only six o’clock, but dark clouds covered the sky, making her little home as dark as midnight. The doctor’s visit had gone well, and she didn’t have to come back for two weeks. Time for a quick shower.

She’d had lunch in the back room with Aunt Ellie and Wanda after the appointment. They’d talked about the baby, about the weather, but she didn’t mention the argument from the night before. There was no need to upset Aunt Ellie. God was going to answer her prayers and give her the cabin.

So why did she feel like eating railroad spikes and spitting out thumbtacks? Everything was fine.

She picked up pictures scattered around the living room one by one. Conrad smiled back at her from every one of them. She gathered them up and laid them on the coffee table. With one hand on her back and using the arm of the sofa as a brace, she lowered her body to a sitting position. Then she started to study the pictures. Her eyes sparkled in every one of them, but Conrad’s looked bored in all the ones after the wedding.

“I was so happy,” she whispered, “and such a fool. Why did you marry me, anyway? You had Gracie, and she’s a beautiful soul.”

No answers fell from heaven to land in her lap, but a loud clap of thunder did startle her.

“I haven’t even changed the sheets on the bed since he was here.” She stood and paced in a circle through the tiny space. “You came to my bed after you’d been with other women. Not Kate and maybe not even Jamie in the past few weeks, but who knows what other hussy slept with you? I can’t stay here with your pictures staring at me.”

She’d planned to take a shower to get rid of that lotion the ob-gyn had used, and quite possibly to spend the night in her apartment, but the thought turned her stomach. She could throw the pictures in the trash, but the trash man didn’t come until the end of the week.

Trudging back through the living room, she picked up her purse and turned off the light. When the door was locked, she headed back south to the cabin. Even with the arguments, she felt more at home there than she did in Wichita Falls.

The heavy summer rain on the road obliterated everything from her sight except a vision of Conrad in those pictures in her mind. In the next half hour’s slow progress, she finally admitted to herself that there were probably no divorces. She was nothing more than the third wife of a polygamist who’d married her because she was gullible.

At Dundee the rain slowed to a drizzle, and by the time she got to Mabelle, the skies were clear, but the sun had set and it was dark. Stars twinkled around a three-quarter moon. Conrad had loved looking at the moon with her out on the minuscule balcony at her apartment. Had it all been a farce, or were some of those tender moments the real deal? Now she’d never know. She wasn’t sure she even wanted the answer.

She had hoped that she could slip into the cabin and go right to her room. She didn’t want to argue or to even see those other two that night. She wanted to lie in her bed, stare through the darkness at the ceiling, and beg God to help her find closure. Kate’s Cadillac pulled up in front of the cabin at the same time Amanda did, canceling that idea.

Jamie was sitting in a rocker on the porch with her bare feet propped on the railing.

“This is not closure. This is another argument,” Amanda muttered as she got out of her truck and started across the yard with Kate on her heels.

“Where in the hell have y’all been?” Jamie asked. “Better yet, what have you been doing, Kate? You are barefoot.”

“I worked for Waylon driving a hay truck all afternoon, and then I had supper with him. Amazing steak! You should have tasted the pepper poppers. And I get paid for driving the hay truck anytime I want to work,” Kate answered, her tone so happy that it shocked Amanda.

“Why would you do that kind of work?” Amanda gasped. “And where are your shoes?”

“I remembered them when I was halfway home and didn’t want to go back and get them because I didn’t want Waylon to know his kiss affected me like that,” she answered. Words spilled out of her almost as if she were Gracie.

“Sweet angels in heaven.” Jamie rolled her eyes. “You better start at the beginning.”

“Before I even get a shower?” Kate grinned.

“Before you do anything. You can’t be sleeping with the enemy.” Amanda slapped the arm of the rocking chair. “Or maybe you are doing this to throw suspicion on us and get it off you. You sure that you didn’t kill Conrad?”

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