The Banty House Page 7

  “Thank you,” Kate said. “You go on up for a long bath. Breakfast will be half an hour early tomorrow, since we’ll need a little extra time to get ready.”

  “See you bright and early, then,” Ginger said as she made her way upstairs. She went to her room first to get her nightshirt and found the pink dress on her bed. With no sleeves or collar, and shortened, it was truly beautiful. A lovely pair of white flats was sitting right beside it with a note. I found these in Mama’s closet. They’ve never been worn, and I liked them better with the dress than I did the ballet slippers.

  “Bless your heart, Miz Connie.” Ginger picked up the dress and held it against her body. She’d never had anything quite so elegant, and she wondered what Sloan would think of her all dressed up for Easter.

  Who am I kiddin’? She looked at her very pregnant body in the mirror. I’ll look like a big pink elephant. No one, especially not a good-lookin’ guy like Sloan, is going to think I’m pretty.

  Chapter Five

  Kate was sitting on the bed, carefully pulling her pantyhose up to her knees, when her two sisters poked their heads into the room. She motioned them inside with a wrist movement and then kept working her stockings up a little at a time.

  “Remember when we had to wear those uncomfortable garter belts?” She thought back on those days—the days that she was secretly seeing Max Wilson. He’d thought the garter belts and nylons were sexy.

  “Yep.” Betsy sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “And then pantyhose came into vogue and I loved them. But when I gained these few pounds, I was glad to discover thigh highs. The pantyhose crotch always bagged down halfway to my knees. I just can’t find a size that seems to work for my body.”

  “They wouldn’t have if you’d bought queen size like I told you,” Connie smarted off. “But oh, no, you think you’re still as skinny as you were at twenty-eight when you traipsed off to Woodstock.”

  “Are you never going to let me live that down?” Betsy asked. “It was my one and only adventure, and I had a good time.”

  “You don’t remember what you had, other than you learned that you love pot.” Kate finally got her hose to her thighs and stood to work them on up her legs, only to push a hole in one leg with her thumbnail. “Dammit to hell and back on a rusty poker!” she said as she peeled them off and threw them in the corner. “Good thing I bought an extra pair.”

  Connie held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

  Kate gave them over. “I should’ve brought the first pair to you.”

  “I’ve got magic hands.” Connie giggled as she stretched the pantyhose until they were as tall as Kate. “Now try them.”

  “Why aren’t you two getting dressed?” Kate pulled the hose on without a problem this time.

  “Because I’m callin’ a meeting.” Betsy sat down on the end of the bed. “Ginger has agreed to stay until Thursday, but we’ve got to make her stay forever.”

  “I can’t bear the thought of a young woman out there with no family. And I like having her around. We were fallin’ into a rut around here. She spices things up, and”—Connie sucked in a long breath before she went on—“I believe that Sloan might open up to someone near his age.”

  “She don’t judge us for our little habits,” Betsy offered, “and I never told y’all, because I was afraid you’d judge me, but I’d slept around the days I was there, and I wanted a baby so bad that I didn’t care who the father was. We’d grown up without a daddy. So . . .” She shrugged. “Anyway, I missed two periods and went to Doc Emerson.”

  “How’d you do that without us knowin’?” Connie asked.

  “I told you that I was deliverin’ jams to old Miz Grandy. She was a shut-in, remember, and I used to deliver to her sometimes. I really did take jam to her that day, and on the way to the doctor, I . . .” Betsy put her head in her hands and sobbed. “I lost the baby. I wasn’t far enough along to even know what it was, but I just knew in my heart it was a girl. Doc Emerson did what he had to in his office, and I told y’all I had the flu so I could lay around and rest a few days. I was depressed for weeks, and saying it out loud . . .” She stopped and wiped her eyes.

  “I understand.” Kate felt like she’d failed in her job as the oldest sister. Her mama had told her from the time she was a little girl that she had a responsibility as the firstborn to look after her two siblings. Then she remembered that she’d kept a secret from her sisters—not as big as a baby, but still a secret.

  “I figured God took my daughter from me because I’d been wild and smokin’ pot when I got pregnant with her. I wasn’t goin’ to be a fit mama, so I didn’t get a baby like Grandma and Mama did even though they wasn’t married.” She straightened up and wiped her eyes on the end of her nightgown. “I always imagined my baby would have had brown eyes. What chance did she ever have of having anything else with our bloodlines? But I wanted her to have long blonde hair. I didn’t even care if it was stringy, or if she was fat or skinny. Then last Thursday, it was like an omen when Connie brought Ginger into the beauty shop.”

  “Well, I found her,” Connie said. “I was the one on the park bench.”

  “Sister, you can’t force her to stay at the Banty House,” Kate said.

  “But we could make it so nice here that she wouldn’t want to leave, and then it would be her decision to stay. We’ve talked her into a few more days,” Connie said. “Maybe we could get her to stay until the baby comes, and by then she’ll have put down some roots.”

  “It’s worth a try.” Kate’s heart went out to Betsy for keeping that secret locked up inside her all these years. “I just wish you hadn’t gone through all that alone, Betsy.” Her poor sister had wanted a baby so badly that she’d gone to extremes to get one, and when it still hadn’t worked out, she had figured it was a sign that she shouldn’t have children and she never tried again.

  “I just figured that I didn’t deserve any support. If I’d stayed home where I belonged”—her chin quivered—“then I mighta gotten pregnant by some guy around these parts and gotten to keep my baby. But oh, no, I had to go off and be wild, so I had to pay for it on my own. I didn’t deserve to have my sisters help me get through the loss of my daughter. But I’ve got another chance at havin’ one now, so y’all can help me with that. I’ll even share my granddaughter with y’all if you will.”

  Connie moved over to sit beside Betsy and wrap her arms around her. “My poor sister.”

  Betsy sniffled and then broke down crying. “After more than fifty years, I still see a little blonde-haired girl in the store or at church and I think about my daughter.”

  Connie hugged her tighter, and Kate joined them for a three-way hug. “Honey, she’d be a full-grown woman, possibly with a daughter Ginger’s age by now.” Kate tried to think back to that time in their lives when Betsy had flown to New York and then traveled to the Woodstock site. She shook her head when she remembered the turmoil in her own life during that time. She’d been so involved with her own emotional roller coaster that it wasn’t any wonder she’d never even realized that her sister was having a problem.

  “I know that, but in my mind, she was always a child until I found Ginger, and now she’s a grown woman when I dream about her,” Betsy said.

  Connie patted Betsy’s arm. “You need to keep an amethyst and a rose quartz close to your body. One heals body, mind, and spirit, and the other restores harmony after emotional wounds. I’ll put a couple in one of my small pouches. You tuck them inside your bra.”

  “I don’t need stones,” Betsy said.

  “You’ve got to get over this, Sister,” Connie said. “It’ll break your heart when she leaves if you don’t. I’ve kept an amethyst in my pocket since we brought her home. I handle the stone and then touch her bare skin every chance I get, so that she might find healing for all the crap she’s been through,” Connie said. “I’ve got to admit, having her with me in the kitchen is like having a breath of fresh air in the house. So, what do you say, Kate?”
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  “You’ll get no argument out of me,” Kate said. “I like having her in the house, and just thinking about a baby here with us . . .” Her eyes filled with tears. “Words can’t even describe how much fun we’d all have.”

  Betsy pulled a tissue from a box on the nightstand beside Kate’s sturdy four-poster bed and handed it to her. “Be careful or you’ll ruin your makeup and have to do it all over. Now that we’re in agreement, I’m going to make our traditional Easter breakfast. I’ll see y’all at the table in thirty minutes.”

  Ginger had been dreaming about the first day she met Lucas at the shelter. He’d winked at her from across the room, and she’d smiled at him. A week later they were sneaking out after lights were out almost every night to go to the park a few blocks down the street to have sex. After two months had gone by, he’d landed a job that paid enough so that he could rent the tiny apartment above an old drugstore that had been turned into a café.

  When she first opened her eyes, she was surprised to see bright sunlight flowing into the room through spotless windows. For a split second, she wondered if Lucas had cleaned up the place. Then she remembered where she was and that Lucas was dead. The Banty House was the best place she’d ever lived, so she couldn’t be sad about that. Guilt filled her at the realization that she didn’t have some kind of emotion concerning Lucas. He was, after all, her baby’s father.

  She shook off the dark feeling and went downstairs to help Betsy with breakfast. She’d washed and rolled her hair on little pink sponge rollers the night before. Her last foster mother had let her take them when she was tossed out of the system like a piece of stale bread. Eighteen was the magic number, or else when she finished high school. She’d never realized true loneliness until she’d checked into the first shelter.

  “Good mornin’.” Betsy grinned. “Don’t you look cute in those hair rollers. I remember back when Mama put my hair up in pin curls for special times.”

  “They’re the only thing that will keep the curls in for more than ten minutes.” Ginger tied an apron around the top of her belly. “I didn’t know if I should get dressed before breakfast. I decided against it because I didn’t want to get anything on the pretty new dress that Connie fixed for me.”

  “That’s why we all come to the breakfast table in our robes. We’ve got our undergarments on and are ready to just slip into our dresses and put our hats on.” She stopped turning strips of bacon and gasped. “I forgot your hat! You simply must have one, and it can’t cover up your beautiful curls. I’ve got the cutest little fascinator hat with a lovely white silk rose on it that will go very well with your new dress.”

  Ginger had already learned not to argue with the sisters. She actually enjoyed having them dress her up like a Barbie doll. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “I know I keep saying that, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “You are so welcome.” Betsy went back to flipping bacon from one side to the other. “You’ve brought us a lot of joy.”

  “Don’t all your guests do that?” Ginger asked.

  “No, honey, they don’t. Most of the time, they are happy to have a good hot supper and a bed for the night, but they’re eager to get on the road the next morning,” Betsy informed her.

  “I’m glad for all the sweet memories I get to make here until next week.” Ginger got out the plates and set the small kitchen table for four. “And I’m grateful that y’all have asked me to stay on until after I see the doctor on Thursday. It’ll sure be good to know my exact due date and maybe find out if I’m gettin’ a boy or a girl.”

  “You mentioned wanting a girl,” Betsy said. “Will you be terribly disappointed if it’s a boy?”

  “No, ma’am, long as it’s healthy and don’t act like Lucas,” Ginger replied. “I thought Lucas was like me, an orphan, until after we moved in together. I should’ve known that he wasn’t because he had a fancy cell phone that he never got a bill for, and he dressed better than the rest of us in the shelter.” Her thoughts went back to how excited she had been when she had first gotten a cell phone. It sure wasn’t a fancy one, and she had to keep buying minutes for it or it didn’t work.

  “Was he difficult to live with?” Betsy asked.

  “Not at first.” Ginger finished setting the table and poured orange juice in cute little glasses for all four of them. “He was funny, always upbeat, probably because he was always high, right up until we moved in together. I think he just wanted a woman around to hold down a steady job and cook and clean for him. It wasn’t until after we were living together that I found out he was as useless as”—she blushed—“as tits on a boar hog, as one of my foster fathers used to say.”

  Betsy chuckled. “I hadn’t heard that in years, but I’ve sure known a lot of people just like that in my lifetime.”

  “Who’s like tits on a boar hog?” Kate entered the room. This morning she wore a red gingham-checked robe that barely reached her knees and left three inches of slip showing at the hem.

  “Lucas, my baby’s father,” Ginger answered. “I was saying that if it’s a boy, then I hope it’s not like him. I hope my son is willing to work for a living and won’t always be looking for a way to make quick and easy money.”

  Kate pulled out a chair and sat down. “There’s folks like that for sure. Is Lucas’s family going to make a fuss to see the baby and have grandparents’ rights?”

  Ginger shook her head. “I didn’t know I was pregnant when he died, but even if they did know”—one shoulder raised in a shrug—“they’d think I was just after their money, and they’d insist on a DNA test and all that. It’s best that I do this on my own.” The words sounded all right in her head, but the truth was that Ginger was scared his family might take her baby from her.

  “They have money?” Kate asked.

  “He told me that they did.” Ginger shrugged again. “But that was after we’d moved in together, and I never really knew if he was telling the truth about anything. According to his story, they cut him off when he wouldn’t listen to them, and he ran away from home when he was seventeen, but looking back that was a lie, because he had that fancy cell phone and he always seemed to have a few dollars to buy what he wanted. When he was killed, they came and got his body and took it back home for burial.” Ginger helped Betsy bring the food to the table and then sat down in her usual spot. “I tried to talk to them, but they told me to get lost and that they were glad we hadn’t gotten married.”

  “I guess they would be,” Kate said. “If he’d married you, then you and his child would be entitled to his share of the inheritance. Your child still would be, you know, if you wanted to get a lawyer and ask for it.”

  Ginger shook her head slowly from one side to the other. “I don’t want anything from them.”

  “I’m here.” Connie breezed into the kitchen and took her place. “Say grace, Kate, before the cinnamon rolls get cold.”

  Kate bowed her head and said a simple thanks for the importance of the day and for the food. “Now let’s see if Betsy has lost her touch when it comes to making our traditional Easter-morning cinnamon rolls. Have you been going to church recently, Ginger?”

  “I don’t reckon that I’ve lost my touch with cinnamon rolls any more than you’ve lost your touch making apple-pie moonshine,” Betsy shot across the table at her sister.

  Kate cut a section off the end of the steaming-hot rolls, put it on her plate, and took a bite. “They’re good enough to make you slap your granny.”

  Ginger giggled as she held out her plate toward Kate. “What does that mean, anyway? And to answer your question, when I had to work, I’d go sit on the back pew in one of the churches on my way home. I’d just sit there on the back pew and look at the songbook.” She had loved the feeling of peace when she attended church.

  “Well, at least you went,” Connie said.

  “And ‘slap your granny’ means that something is so good that you’d slap your granny for a piece of it even though you knew you’d get your fanny
whipped with a switch for being disrespectful to your grandmother,” Kate explained. “Betsy always makes the best hot rolls and cinnamon rolls in Medina County, but she did extra good today.”

  “Thank you.” Betsy smiled. “I put a little extra love in them since Ginger is with us.”

  “Then I vote we hog-tie Ginger and keep her forever,” Connie teased.

  Ginger took her first bite. “You really should’ve put in a café or maybe a pastry shop. These are better than any I’ve ever eaten before. We should save one for Sloan to eat before he hides the eggs.”

  Betsy beamed, and Ginger caught her sliding a sly wink over to Kate. They must have had some inside joke going, because she couldn’t figure out why her comment would put such a glow on Betsy’s face.

  If there hadn’t been a steeple on the top and stained-glass windows flanking the double doors in the front, the little white church set back off the road would have looked like a plain clapboard house.

  Ginger felt a little overdressed as she entered the sanctuary with the Carson sisters, but the feeling soon went away when she looked around at the small congregation. The ladies all wore hats and gloves. Most of the men wore creased jeans and nice shirts. Some had on sports jackets, but not many. Evidently Easter was the biggest holiday in Texas.

  She felt all eyes on her as she followed Kate down the center aisle and took her seat on the second pew with them. No one else joined them on the long, polished oak bench, but then there seemed to be plenty of room for maybe another fifty people. The place wasn’t nearly as crowded as the last little church she’d attended on Mother’s Day before she was kicked out of the system.

  She picked a hymnal from the pew in front of her and thumbed through it. From what she could remember, it was about the same as the one she’d sung from a year ago, but this cover was burgundy instead of forest green. The music director took his place behind the podium. They sang a congregational song before the church secretary reported on what the Sunday-school offering and attendance had been that morning. Then the lady compared it to the previous week and made a few comments about how good it was to see the attendance up by 50 percent that day.