Undertow by Leigh Talbert Moore Page A

remembered he said he would have to amputate, and I burst into tears. I had learned that word in the movies, and I didn’t know what he was going to cut off. My hands for taking the gum? My head for chewing it? It was only my hair.
    I thought I was the ugliest little girl after that haircut. I thought I looked like a little boy. As I examined the picture now, I saw that I was actually kind of cute. Classic Mia Farrow, and Daddy had been my very own Vidal Sassoon.
    I hadn’t realized I had tears in my eyes until Billy slipped in and found me.
    “Hey, what are you doing up here?” he said softly. “I was looking for you everywhere.”
    I laughed and brushed away the tears. “I was looking at these old pictures. I thought I could help Mama by sorting through all this stuff.”
    “You’re crying.” He took the picture from my hand and looked at it. “What’s this? You?”
    “I think I was five in that picture,” I said. “I’d fallen asleep with gum, and Daddy had to cut all my hair off. I was remembering how ugly I thought it made me look.”
    “I think it’s cute.” He studied the picture and then his blue eyes met mine with a smile.
    “Me too.” I smiled as he picked up another picture.
    “Your parents were old when they had you,” he said.
    “Early forties.”
    “What was that like?”
    “Lonely,” I sighed, flipping through the box. “But they got me anything I wanted. Daddy was well-established when I came along.”
    “And you weren’t lonely for long.” He reached over and touched my hand. “I know you and Lexy met in kindergarten, right?”
    “Well, that was at school. But she was all the way out on Port Hogan Road,” I said. “I remember sitting in that room and looking out that window at the big kids running around and riding their bikes. Mama never let me go out alone.”
    Billy chuckled. “I guess that’s one good thing about living in the country. There’s nobody around to bother you.”
    “You guys were practically outsiders.”
    “We weren’t really far enough south to qualify for that title,” he sighed. “We didn’t fall into any group, I guess.”
    “Still, it was just you and your daddy.” I studied his perfect face. “I guess you know what it’s like to be lonely.”
    “I don’t remember being lonely. Dad took me everywhere he went. But I remember being scared sometimes.” He rubbed his neck, causing the pale blue polo to go tight across his chest. “He’d start drinking and missing Mom.”
    “Was he violent?”
    “Nah,” Billy shook his head. “He’d just sit and listen to old country songs til he passed out. But I was so little, I didn’t know if he would die or if I should try to move him or what. I’d usually just go to bed and pray.”
    “Billy!” I whispered. “That’s so sad! You never told me this.”
    “Well, it wasn’t much of a memory to share,” he shrugged. “He didn’t do it every night, and I loved him. When I got older, I’d usually take off when he’d start drinking. Take one of the horses or something.”
    We were quiet a while looking at the old photos. Billy never talked much about his childhood, and somehow it made me feel closer to him now, like he trusted me more.
    “Don’t do this,” he said. “Let your Mom take care of all this stuff next time she’s in town.”
    “Okay.” I helped him collect the old documents and put them back in the cardboard box, and we walked back downstairs where Will was napping.
    Even with Billy gone as much as ever, part of being married is being together when everyone leaves. That’s when the events that tie you together happen. We might still be building our relationship, but I’m encouraged that we’re learning more about each other. Mama’s wrong. Billy and I are going to be fine.
     
    Jan. 15, 19--
    Lexy’s home!
    Oops. I’m supposed to say Alex now.
    Yes. My best friend moves back from Atlanta and announces she’s going by a different name. Seems everyone at art school