The light doused just as they approached the main house. The evening was still and cold, the air thin, the sky close. A milky parenthesis framing the slice of moon signaled that snow could come at any time. Joe had brought a flashlight for the walk back to their house after dinner.
Because Marybeth had arrived home later than usual, Joe had not yet had a chance to talk to her about his meeting with the governor.
Lucy told her mother about Sheridan's detention. Marybeth nodded and squinted at her oldest daughter, who glared at Lucy for telling.
"No talk about Sheridan or the detention during dinner," Marybeth told Lucy.
"You mean not to tell Grandmother Missy?" Lucy said.
"That's what I mean."
Joe agreed. He preferred internal family discussions to remaininternal, without Missy's opinion on anything. It pleased him that Marybeth felt the same way. In fact, Joe thought he detecteda growing tension between Marybeth and her mother lately. He stifled the urge to fan the flames. Joe and Marybeth had talked about buying a house of their own in town and had met with a Realtor. In the Realtor's office, Joe was ashamed to admit he had never owned a home before-they had always lived in state housing-and therefore had no equity. The meetingconcluded quickly after that. He had no idea how expensive it was to buy a house with no track record, and they knew they needed to save more money in order to build up a deposit and get good financing. To relieve his guilt on the drive back to the ranch, Marybeth had pointed out the comfort of the situation they were in-a home, meals, the undeniable beauty of the ranch itself. But Joe found himself too stubborn to concede all her points, although she certainly was practical. Looming over the argument, though, was the specter of Missy, Marybeth's mother.
"I wish that stove would get here," Sheridan said as they approachedthe ranch house. "It would be nice to eat dinner in our own house for once."
It had been only a week since the ancient stove in the log home quit working. But Marybeth didn't point it out because she was getting smarter about choosing her battles with Sheridan, Joe thought. In fact, it seemed as if the two were starting to come to a new understanding in regard to each other. Mysterious.
Joe opened the door for everyone.
As Marybeth passed him she raised her eyebrows, said, "I heard the governor's plane was at the airport today."
"We can talk about that after dinner too," Joe said.
That stopped Marybeth for a moment and she studied his face. He stifled a grin, but she could read him like a book. Even with the other employees and the whole Pickett familyin the dining room, the table still had plenty of empty chairs since it had once been where a dozen ranch hands ate breakfast and dinner, back when the Longbrake Ranch was in its heyday. Maria, the ranch cook and housekeeper, served steaming plattersof the simple ranch fare Bud Sr. liked best, inch-and-a-half-thick steaks, baked potatoes, green salad (lettuce and tomatoes only), white bread, apple cobbler. Bud Sr. called it "real food," as opposed to anything that didn't include beef. Joe tended to agree with Bud Sr. on that one. There was a time when real food was served five nights a week. Since Missy had arrived, it had been cut down to once during the week and on Sunday.
They sat down at the table in the seating arrangement that had come about since they moved to the ranch. Bud no longer sat at the head of the table. His old chair was now occupied by Missy. The only explanation for the change was a single throw-awayline by Missy earlier in the summer, saying, "I need to be closer to the kitchen door so I can help Maria serve." But, as far as Joe could tell, Missy had never helped Maria do anything exceptprovide tips on her makeup. Not that Bud Sr. seemed to care about the power shift. That was one thing about Bud, Joe thought. He was so in love with his bride of one year that he was blind to everything else. He had conceded authority with almost giddy enthusiasm.
"Where's Bud Jr.?" Joe asked.
"In his room," Bud Sr. said, spearing a thick steak with his fork and sliding it onto his plate. "His back's hurting. He says he may never walk again."
Lucy looked up in alarm.
"Not really, darling," Bud Sr. said. "That's just how Bud Jr. is. Everything's a big deal."
"It's called creativity," Missy said softly.
Eduardo, Maria's husband and one of the ranch hands at the table, described driving out to the fence line that afternoon to retrieve Bud Jr. He found him lying on his back in the cheater grass, moaning. He brought him home.
"Shamazz, eet look like he was dead," Eduardo said in a heavy accent. Pascal, the other hand, tried to disguise a sudden bout of laughter by coughing into his hand. Pascal made no secretof his contempt for Bud Jr.
Missy seemed distracted, and had hardly looked up. Joe had to admit how attractive she was for her age, and she looked especiallygood tonight as she sat there and picked at the tiniest portions possible of everything on her plate. She wore a charcoalcashmere sweater and a thin rope of pearls, dark lipstick. Her hair was perfect, not a strand of gray. When she caught Joe watching her, she glared back for a second before breaking the gaze.
Joe wondered what he had caught her thinking about.
"You're dressed up," Marybeth said to her mother. "Are you going out?"
"I've got a meeting in town tonight," Missy said dismissively."Just the county arts council thing."
"My little artiste." Bud Sr. grinned and reached over and stroked Missy's shoulder. "Don't you want some more steak?"
"No, thank you. You know how I feel about red meat."
Bud shook his head. "She's as tiny as a bird, my little artiste."
Now Sheridan coughed in her hand. Marybeth shot her daughter a look.
"Good steak," Joe said.
"Damned good steak." Bud Sr. nodded. "Real food."
"Ees good," Eduardo said, and Pascal agreed.
Marybeth looked at Joe, her eyes saying, Get me out of here. On the way back to their house, Joe shone his flashlight on the path and everyone followed him holding hands in a line: Joe, Marybeth, Sheridan, Lucy.
"Come along, my little ducklings," he said.
"Come along, my little artistes," Sheridan said. "My tiny littlebirds."
Joe laughed.
"Sheridan," Marybeth said sternly. "Don't mock." Then: "Joe, you're not helping the situation."
"Sorry."
The stiff grass had a sheath of beaded moisture. It would frost tonight, Joe thought.
"Look," Sheridan said after a moment, "you don't have to say anything about what happened today at school. I know I screwed up. I never should've taken the bait from that ass Jason Kiner. I'll never do that again, not because he doesn't deserve a good ass kicking, but because it embarrassed me and it embarrassedyou. I'm better than that. Okay? Can we drop it now?"
Joe waited for Marybeth to answer. This was her department.
"Okay," Marybeth said in a way that made it clear the discussionwas over.
"She said 'ass' twice," Lucy whispered, and Joe laughed again. Luckily, so did Marybeth and Sheridan, both relieved that a confrontation had been averted.
As they approached their house, Joe squeezed his wife's hand in the dark and she squeezed back. "I know that look in her eye," Marybeth said later, once the girls were in their rooms, Sheridan doing biology homeworkand Lucy working on another project for Mrs. Hanson.
"What look?" Joe asked from the couch. The file the governorhad given him was in his lap. The woodstove was lit and ticking as it warmed, the television was off. He'd been waiting for his wife to change clothes after they returned from dinner. She hadn't had time earlier. Even in her worn baggy sweats, Joe felt a zing when he saw her come down the hallway. He liked how she walked across the floor to him. His wife was blond, trim, attractive. Although she was the same age as Joe, when he looked at her he saw the image of the girl he had seen for the first time on the campus of the University of Wyoming, the girl he knew, that instant, he wanted to marry. It was the best decisionhe ever made, and he still felt that he could be exposed at any time as not being worthy of her. She brought a purpose to his life. And he was as crazy in love with her as Bud was with Missy.