Part 10 (1/2)
”I'm married,” she blurted. ”I married Billy Coburn this morning.”
Summer waited for the explosion she was sure was coming. Instead of raging, her mother threw back her head and laughed.
”This is rich. This is perfect. Your father will throw forty fits. His darling daughter married to a saddle tramp without a penny. Even better, your father's very own b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. Oh, I love it!” And she sailed off into another fit of laughter.
Summer hadn't thought she could feel any worse. But her mother's laughter made something precious curl up inside her and die. She couldn't even defend herself by saying she loved Billy. And she didn't dare explain the real reason she'd married him. She couldn't take the chance that her mother would do something vindictive to punish Billy for spoiling her plans.
”What does your father say about this?” her mother asked.
”He doesn't know yet.”
”I want to be a fly on the wall when you tell him,” she said.
”I'm leaving now, Momma. Billy's waiting for me outside.”
”I'll just come along and congratulate your new husband.”
”Please don't, Momma,” Summer said, cringing at the spite she heard in her mother's voice. ”There's no need-”
”Let's go, Summer,” her mother said.
Summer brushed past her mother and headed down the stairs, walking as fast as she could without running, trying to put distance between them so she could give Billy some warning that her mother was right behind her.
”I can't imagine what you were thinking, Summer,” her mother said from behind her. ”I thought you had more pride than this. Are you pregnant?”
Summer stopped abruptly in the middle of the kitchen and turned to stare at her mother, her mouth gaping. ”Of course not!”
”Then why have you done this?” her mother said, her eyes focused intently on Summer's face.
Summer felt like an ant under a magnifying gla.s.s, the kind cruel little boys held, focusing the fierce rays of the sun so that eventually the ant burned to cinders. She didn't want to tell the truth. And she couldn't think of a good enough lie to fool her mother. So she stood there, staring back helplessly. She never felt like this with her father. She could face him toe-to-toe and fight.
But her mother reduced her to this quivering, sniveling creature without any backbone. Her throat had closed so tight it was threatening to choke her.
”Well?” her mother demanded. ”Cat got your tongue?”
Summer couldn't have said a word to save her life.
”What the h.e.l.l is going on here?” a voice bellowed from the kitchen doorway.
Summer dropped her bags, turned, and ran toward her father, wrapping her arms around him as she careened into him. ”Daddy,” she sobbed, pressing her cheek against his chest. ”Oh, Daddy.”
He'd always been her refuge in a storm. Suddenly, she noticed that his body was stiff, and his arms had not closed around her.
She lifted her head and looked up into his face. And saw that he knew what she'd done. And disapproved. His gray eyes were as cold and remote as she'd ever seen them. She looked past his shoulder and saw Billy standing in the doorway behind him, his face pale, his jaw taut.
She took a step back and let her hands drop to her sides.
”Is it true?” her father said.
She focused on Billy's face and tried to divine what he was thinking, but his dark eyes were shuttered. She realized her father was still waiting for an answer-and that she'd been waiting for Billy to provide it. After all, he'd said he would be there to support her.
Well, he was here. But obviously, he expected her to stand up to her father. She didn't want Billy to find her wanting so soon in their marriage. If he expected her to be strong, she'd be strong.
She squared her shoulders and said, ”Billy and I are married, if that's what you're asking.”
”G.o.ddammit to h.e.l.l! Have you got maggots in your brain, girl?” her father yelled.
For an instant, Summer thought he might hit her, even though he'd never raised a hand to her in her life. A second later, Billy was standing beside her, his arm around her waist, and the two of them were facing her father together.
She could feel the tension radiating off Billy. His hand was squeezing her waist so tightly it hurt. ”Summer and I don't need your permission-or your approval-to marry,” he said. ”Now get out of our way.”
”Billy, I need my bags,” Summer reminded him.
He made an irritated sound in his throat but let go of her and turned to pick up her bags. And found himself confronting her mother.
He touched the brim of his hat and said, ”Ma'am.”
”You're a fool, Billy Coburn,” she said. ”Like your mother before you.”
Summer saw the flush stain Billy's cheeks. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him toward the door, only to find her father had taken a step closer, blocking their exit.
”Come on, Billy,” she begged. ”Forget my things. I don't need them.”
Billy leaned over and picked up her bags. ”We'll be leaving now, ma'am,” he said to her mother. He turned and found Blackjack blocking the way. ”Step aside,” he said.
”Summer's not going anywhere,” her father said.
Her mother clapped. ”Bravo. Wonderful performance, Jackson. May I ask to what I owe the pleasure of your return so soon, and in such a timely fas.h.i.+on? Did the widow throw you out?”
”This is still my house, Eve. I'll come and go as I please.”
”Over my dead body.”
”Like I've said before, that can be arranged,” her father taunted.
Summer blanched. She and Billy stood between her parents, who stabbed at each other with barbed words.
”Momma, Daddy, please. Not now.”
”Why not now?” her mother said. ”Your husband might as well know what kind of family he's married into.”
”Go upstairs, Summer,” her father said. ”Where you belong. You can leave, Coburn.”
”I'm leaving, all right,” Billy said in a steely voice. ”And my wife is coming with me.”
He took a step forward, his shoulder shoving hard against Blackjack's shoulder and knocking him aside. Summer held her breath, expecting her father to attack Billy as they took the last few steps to the screen door.
”Are you going to let him get away with that, Jackson?” her mother gibed.
Summer realized her father was distracted from confronting Billy by the necessity of making some sort of retort to her mother, like two wolves that attack one another, determined not to share the kill. She heard them snarling at each other as she and Billy shoved their way out the door.