The Barefoot Summer(74)

“I was very, very good at five-finger discounts,” Jamie whispered on the way outside.

“What made you stop?” Kate asked.

“Mama Rita. She went through my bedroom one day when I was at school. It was my senior year, and I had enough scholarships and grant money to go to college. And there were enough pretty things in my closet and my jewelry box that no one would ever know I was a poor girl from inner-city Dallas.”

“And?” Amanda asked.

“She put every single thing I’d stolen into a big black garbage bag and put it in the charity donation box down on the corner. She said there was no way that I could remember where it came from to take it back. And then I got the lecture of a lifetime.”

“Which was?” Kate asked.

“If I got caught, all my college money would be revoked and I’d be lucky to get a waitress job. Then she made me go to confession and tell the truth, and believe me, what I had to do was not easy. For the whole summer, I had to clean the church every Saturday for penance.”

“So you are Catholic?” Amanda said.

“Mama Rita is. I went with her, but after Gracie was born I didn’t always go to church with her. Sometimes I went to a Methodist church down the block from me. And when I found out that Conrad was a thief of sorts, I wondered if it was my punishment for past sins.”

“Mama, look!” Gracie yelled from the railing. “There’s a bunch of baby ducks out there on the lake.”

Amanda could hardly believe what they’d said. There’s bad things in people who are basically good and good things in people who are bad. When my baby is born, I’ll just have to search for the good memories of his father to tell him about.



When everyone had left that morning, Kate poured a cup of coffee, carried it out to the deck, and called her mother. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?” she asked when her mother answered.

“I don’t like working without you here.” Teresa’s tone was still grouchy. “I would have never made the suggestion that you take time off if . . .” She stopped.

“If you thought I’d really stay this long, right?” Kate finished the sentence for her. “You figured I’d come up here and get bored out of my mind and be back in the office in a week at the most,” Kate said.

“Yes, I did,” Teresa said curtly.

“I like it here.” Yesterday’s church hymn played through her mind as she shut her eyes tightly for courage. “I want to take a year’s sabbatical.”

“Don’t you joke with me this morning,” Teresa said.

“I’m serious as a heart attack. I want a year off,” Kate said.

She didn’t only want it. She needed it.

“You are not a priest,” Teresa said.

“Folks other than the clergy take a year off every now and then. You said the murder thing surrounding me right now could ruin my reputation, and I need some time.”

“I swear, you sound and act more like your father every day that you live. I’ve tried and tried to make you tough and ready to take over the business, but I’m . . .”

“I told you so.” Kate laughed.

“What?”

“You’re working around to saying the words, so spit them out. Maybe you should repeat them about a dozen times for future use so we don’t have to go through this whole thing again.”

Silence on the other end of the phone.

“Mother?” Kate held the phone out to make sure her battery wasn’t dead.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Teresa hissed. “I’m your boss.”

“And you are my mother, but I’m forty-four years old and a grown woman. Just say the words and then we can get on with our conversation,” Kate said.

“I don’t say that every time we talk,” Teresa argued.

“I can count on the fingers of one hand the times when you didn’t. Mother, did you ever want to be anything other than what you are?”

“What kind of fool question is that? And don’t change the subject.”

Kate flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Did you ever want to be a nurse or a teacher or maybe even a stay-at-home mother?”

“I did not.” Teresa said each word distinctively. “I wanted to grow up and run this business just like my mother did and like you will be doing before long. What has come over you? Surely to God you weren’t serious about selling the company. Do you realize how long it’s been in our family?”

“Since the oil boom days, which makes it almost a hundred years,” Kate answered. “It started out as Texas Oil, and then it was—”

“I don’t need a history lesson,” Teresa snapped.

“I’ve hauled hay here, and a few days ago I spent the day driving a tractor. It made me wonder if I chose the profession I’m in or if you chose it for me.”

“I told you that a trip to that backwoods place was a mistake,” Teresa fumed.

“And there it is.” Kate chuckled. She could imagine her mother pacing the floor in her office, her eyes narrowed and her forehead wrinkled as she tried to figure out a way to manipulate Kate into coming home early. “It’s probably the single smartest thing I’ve ever done. A bit unorthodox, having friends that were married to the same man at the same time I was, but all the same, I’ve made friends in the short time I’ve been here. Real, honest-to-God friends who don’t give a shit if I have money or if I’m poor as a church mouse.”