of
us!"
"You know damn well what she is! Keep
laughing and I really will come down there and rip your throat out.
You tell Marshall the same goes for him and don't think that pretty
little mate of his is going to save either one of you."
He looked at the phone in his hand again and
for a moment, Kat thought he was going to hurl it into the pool,
but then he punched it with his thumb without saying goodbye and
jammed it into his pocket.
Mrs. Martin's whole head followed each
time Charles changed direction, like this was a tennis
match and his head was the ball. She pursed her lips and
sighed.
"Looks to me like Buddy isn't the only one
who hasn't changed. Listen to that language. I told his mother long
ago she should wash that filthy mouth out with soap, but poor
Emily, God rest her soul, thought he'd grow out of it. Don't
see why. His Daddy never did. He had the same foul temper
peppered with the same foul words."
"Like father, like son," Kat commented.
"Lord, I hope not."
They'd eaten lunch in the small eating area
off the kitchen, the Breakfast Room, and over sandwiches piled
impossibly high with slabs of ham and thick slices of cheese,
Kat learned that Mrs. Martin had worked for Charles' mother when he
and his brothers were boys. She'd been Mrs. Gregory then and her
son, older than the Goodman boys, had worshipped Charles, the
eldest son, and followed him about so closely, Charles couldn't
stop short without the bigger boy bowling him over.
Kat did the mental math and came to the
conclusion that Buddy, the man she'd judged to be in his twenties,
was a good twenty years older than that!
As for the grownup Charles, he all but
ignored Kat during the meal and spent his time trying to chat with
Buddy about how the other man had spent his time during the years
they'd been apart. It wasn't easy. Buddy only wanted to talk about
Kat.
"She sure is pretty," he told Charles as if
Kat wasn't in the room.
"She is that," Charles agreed, "So you say
you couldn't find much work, huh?"
"No. I think she'd make a fine Mate. She's a
teacher, you know."
"So I gathered. You think you'd like to work
for me?"
"Mama says I got no choice if I expect to
eat. You think she'd like having babies? I could help take care of
'em. I do good with babies, 'specially if they was your babies,
Charlie. Mama says it's important for a Mate to like babies and if
she's a teacher, she must like 'em, right?"
Charles was beginning to look uncomfortable
and Kat didn't feel much better. "Maybe we can go for a run later,
Buddy. Would you like that?"
"Sure would!" Buddy nodded enthusiastically.
"If Kat was the Mate, she could run with us. I bet she'd look fine
a-runnin' wild. You like to run Miss Kitty Kat?"
"I used to," Kat told him, "But mostly when I
had to catch a bus"
It was true. When she was young, she ran for
the sheer joy of it, but like so many things she enjoyed, running
was set aside because it got her no closer to her goals and running
on city sidewalks held little appeal.
"See, Charlie? Miss Kitty Kat is just about
perfect." Buddy folded his arms and sat back in his chair and
nodded, argument won, conversation over.
"You need to talk to him, Mrs. Martin."
"Indeed I do, Mr. Goodman, but you have to
understand. Buddy's not a child anymore and he has his own
opinions."
Charles spent the rest of the meal in silence
before he went outside and started making phone calls.
"Wes Goodman, Charles' daddy, was a hard man,
but a just leader and fair in his dealings with his people," Mrs.
Martin went on. "He did right by them, took good care of them and
he was soft and sweet as marshmallow when it came to Emily. It was
them boys he was tough on. Toughest on Charles because he was the
oldest and supposed to take his father's place." She glanced over
her shoulder at Kat. "You need to remember that."
"I don't see why. According to Mr.
Goodman, I don't belong here." It was like she'd suddenly
grown warts on her nose, turned wall-eyed, lost half
us!"
"You know damn well what she is! Keep
laughing and I really will come down there and rip your throat out.
You tell Marshall the same goes for him and don't think that pretty
little mate of his is going to save either one of you."
He looked at the phone in his hand again and
for a moment, Kat thought he was going to hurl it into the pool,
but then he punched it with his thumb without saying goodbye and
jammed it into his pocket.
Mrs. Martin's whole head followed each
time Charles changed direction, like this was a tennis
match and his head was the ball. She pursed her lips and
sighed.
"Looks to me like Buddy isn't the only one
who hasn't changed. Listen to that language. I told his mother long
ago she should wash that filthy mouth out with soap, but poor
Emily, God rest her soul, thought he'd grow out of it. Don't
see why. His Daddy never did. He had the same foul temper
peppered with the same foul words."
"Like father, like son," Kat commented.
"Lord, I hope not."
They'd eaten lunch in the small eating area
off the kitchen, the Breakfast Room, and over sandwiches piled
impossibly high with slabs of ham and thick slices of cheese,
Kat learned that Mrs. Martin had worked for Charles' mother when he
and his brothers were boys. She'd been Mrs. Gregory then and her
son, older than the Goodman boys, had worshipped Charles, the
eldest son, and followed him about so closely, Charles couldn't
stop short without the bigger boy bowling him over.
Kat did the mental math and came to the
conclusion that Buddy, the man she'd judged to be in his twenties,
was a good twenty years older than that!
As for the grownup Charles, he all but
ignored Kat during the meal and spent his time trying to chat with
Buddy about how the other man had spent his time during the years
they'd been apart. It wasn't easy. Buddy only wanted to talk about
Kat.
"She sure is pretty," he told Charles as if
Kat wasn't in the room.
"She is that," Charles agreed, "So you say
you couldn't find much work, huh?"
"No. I think she'd make a fine Mate. She's a
teacher, you know."
"So I gathered. You think you'd like to work
for me?"
"Mama says I got no choice if I expect to
eat. You think she'd like having babies? I could help take care of
'em. I do good with babies, 'specially if they was your babies,
Charlie. Mama says it's important for a Mate to like babies and if
she's a teacher, she must like 'em, right?"
Charles was beginning to look uncomfortable
and Kat didn't feel much better. "Maybe we can go for a run later,
Buddy. Would you like that?"
"Sure would!" Buddy nodded enthusiastically.
"If Kat was the Mate, she could run with us. I bet she'd look fine
a-runnin' wild. You like to run Miss Kitty Kat?"
"I used to," Kat told him, "But mostly when I
had to catch a bus"
It was true. When she was young, she ran for
the sheer joy of it, but like so many things she enjoyed, running
was set aside because it got her no closer to her goals and running
on city sidewalks held little appeal.
"See, Charlie? Miss Kitty Kat is just about
perfect." Buddy folded his arms and sat back in his chair and
nodded, argument won, conversation over.
"You need to talk to him, Mrs. Martin."
"Indeed I do, Mr. Goodman, but you have to
understand. Buddy's not a child anymore and he has his own
opinions."
Charles spent the rest of the meal in silence
before he went outside and started making phone calls.
"Wes Goodman, Charles' daddy, was a hard man,
but a just leader and fair in his dealings with his people," Mrs.
Martin went on. "He did right by them, took good care of them and
he was soft and sweet as marshmallow when it came to Emily. It was
them boys he was tough on. Toughest on Charles because he was the
oldest and supposed to take his father's place." She glanced over
her shoulder at Kat. "You need to remember that."
"I don't see why. According to Mr.
Goodman, I don't belong here." It was like she'd suddenly
grown warts on her nose, turned wall-eyed, lost half
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