Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(31)

“Just think about our stepmama,” Torie said to him. “She’ll wet her pants having a real, live member of the British aristocracy in town.”

“The best reason of all to stay away,” he retorted.

Torie’s expression grew cagey. “Do I have to remind you about a certain Christmas morning during our childhood when our mother showered you with a couple thousand dollars’ worth of presents, but never got around to buying me anything?”

Emma straightened. What was this?

Kenny shot his sister an exasperated look. “I’ve spent the last seventeen years trying to make up for our dysfunctional childhood, and you’re not putting me through any more guilt trips.”

“Or maybe I should bring up the time I bought that great big Minnie Mouse cookie with my allowance money. It had those cute little sticky-up ears and a bow across the top. Remember the fit you kicked up because you wanted it, and how she slapped me across the face when I refused to give it to you? You stood right in front of me and ate the whole thing while I watched.”

He winced. “Torie, everybody in the world knows that she was crazy and I was a spoiled brat!”

“I remember there were a couple bites of that hair bow left over—”

“Torie . . .” His voice sounded a warning note.

“But instead of giving them to me, you threw them in the—”

“All right! You win, damn it! But this is against my better judgment.”

For a moment Torie appeared almost fragile. Then she curled one arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thanks, bubba. I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one,” he sighed. “But I’ll still never catch up.”





Chapter 7

“Surely your sister exaggerated,” Emma said. “Your mother couldn’t really have permitted such a thing.”

Kenny pointed toward the passing landscape through the Cadillac’s window. “Look at those bluebonnets over there. And that red’s Indian paintbrush. Isn’t this just about the prettiest view you’ve ever seen?”

He obviously didn’t want to talk about his childhood, and, once again, Emma let herself be distracted by the beauty of the Texas Hill Country. They were west of Austin now, not far from Wynette, on a two-lane highway that offered breathtaking vistas of rugged hills slashed with limestone and expansive valleys carpeted with fields of wildflowers, some stretching nearly as far as the eye could see. Since they’d left, she’d spotted her first Texas longhorn cattle, glimpsed several deer, and watched a bird Kenny identified as a red-tailed hawk circle a ribbon of crystal-clear river that sparkled in the sun. Now, however, she forced her attention away from the view to once again concentrate on piecing together the story behind what she’d heard this morning. Even though it was none of her business, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She simply had to know more about him.

“Tell me about your childhood, Kenny. I’m only inquiring as an educator, you understand. I’m fascinated by the effect upbringing has on adult behavior.”

“Believe me, if I’d let my upbringing affect me, I’d be locked up in a penitentiary somewhere.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You know those old teen movies where there’s always this nasty rich kid who tortures the poor but valiant hero?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I was that nasty rich kid.”

“I don’t believe it. You’re immature and annoying, but you’re not cruel.”

He raised one eyebrow at her.

“Please tell me.” She unwrapped a package of cheese and crackers she’d hurriedly purchased when he’d stopped for petrol and it became apparent that he had no interest in lunch.

He shrugged. “Everybody in Wynette knows how I was raised, so I guess you’ll hear about it as soon as you hit town.” He slipped into the left lane, passing a pickup. “My mother was beautiful, born rich, and not exactly known for her brains.”

Emma immediately thought of Torie, then decided that wasn’t fair. She suspected that Torie Traveler was extremely intelligent, but hid it just as her brother did.

“My father grew up poor,” Kenny said, “but he was smart and hardworking. I guess it was a case of opposites attracting. They married quick, then found out they basically hated each other’s guts. Neither of them would consider a divorce. My father won’t ever admit he’s failed at anything, and Mother said she couldn’t live through the disgrace.”

“Rather old-fashioned.”

“My mother spent her life on that thin edge between neurosis and psychosis, with psychosis winning out as she got older. She was a classic narcissist married to a man who ignored her, so, as soon as I was born, she made me the center of her life. Whatever I wanted, she gave me, even if I shouldn’t have had it. She never said no, not about anything. And because of that, I was supposed to worship her.”

“Did you?”

“Of course not. I paid her back with bad behavior, and the more she indulged me, the more I pushed her. Then, whenever something did go wrong in my life, I blamed her for it. I was just about the most unpleasant child you can imagine.”

No wonder, she thought, feeling a stab of pity for the boy he’d been, as well as reluctant admiration for his honesty. “Where was your father while all this was going on?”