Chapter 7

This was Renee’s first celebration of the 4th of July in Granger. She was a little shy, at first, but then began seeing people she knew. Children ran up to her for hugs, and their mothers and fathers smiled and waved at her. Mirriam also waved, from a line of tables set up on the grass. Lots of women Renee knew were at that line of tables too, and her nervousness disappeared as she walked over and was welcomed.

She looked around for Bobby, but didn’t see him. She felt embarrassed, for some reason, asking Mirriam about him. Her date had gone superbly, as far as she was concerned. That night, as she lay in bed, thinking about what had just transpired, she could still remember the feel of her small hand in his larger, stronger one. He had been a perfect gentleman, and she’d had fun. She was now having trouble thinking of him as a “gigolo”. He was just Bobby, and he was unique, among men.

A woman she’d never seen walked up, holding a baby, about a year old. Just seeing that baby reminded her of Bobby, because of the black hair, and blue eyes. It even had the same little forelock of hair on its brow.

“Felicity!” said Mirriam, standing up. “It’s so good to see you here.”

“You know Chester,” sighed the woman, smiling. “He’s like a little boy himself, when it comes to fireworks.” She looked around. “Is Bobby here?”

Renee heard that special note in the woman’s voice ... that note that said her question about Bobby wasn’t as casual as she had tried to make it sound.

“He’s around somewhere,” said Mirriam. “I can’t keep track of him anymore.” She got a crafty look on her face. “Would you like me to hold Charles, while you go look for him?”

“Would you?” asked Felicity, obviously happy at the thought.

“I’d be happy to,” said Mirriam, a strange note in her own voice.

Renee watched as Mirriam took the little boy, who wiggled and squirmed in her arms. Felicity walked off.

“Aren’t you a handsome thing,” cooed Mirriam to the baby. “So big and strong!” she added, as she sat down and started letting the little boy stand up and sit down on her lap. She took his hands, and helped him stand. He gurgled and smiled, and then his knees buckled and he sat, only to struggle up again, with her help.

An old man ... a very old man ... strolled up to Mirriam.

“Well, I see she foisted him off on you,” he said, smiling. “I suppose she’s off kicking up her heels.”

“Good evening, Chester,” said Mirriam, somewhat formally. “Do you want him back?”

He waved a hand, carelessly, and sat down.

“I get to see him all day long,” he said. “Enjoy yourself. Besides, it’s about time for a diaper change, if I know my son.” He said that with what sounded like an inordinate amount of pride, to Renee’s ears. She was puzzled. The man had to be in his seventies, at least, but appeared to claim this baby as his son.

“I don’t suppose you brought one of those fabulous rhubarb pies of yours this year,” said the man, hopefully.

“I did indeed,” said Mirriam, beaming. “Would you like me to get you a piece?”

“You’re busy,” said Chester. He turned to Renee. “And who might this lovely young woman be?” he asked.

Mirriam made the introductions, and Chester, to Renee’s astonishment, said: “Ahhhh, so you’re the woman who brought Granger up a notch.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said, hesitantly.

“This town has needed a good preschool for years,” said the old man. “It’s a wonderful thing you came along and gave them one. I hear very good reports about it.”

“Thank you,” said Renee, a little weakly. She had been under the impression that no one, other than the parents of what she thought of as “her children”, even knew she existed.

“Having paid you a compliment,” said the old man, “do you suppose I could beg you to get me a piece of that pie, so Mirriam can spend some time with my son?”

Renee’s puzzlement increased. This man was obviously claiming the baby as his own, which meant he was married to the much younger woman who seemed to be the baby’s mother. She pushed her curiosity aside and jumped up to get the pie. Mirriam told her which basket to get it out of. There were paper plates, plastic forks and napkins in the basket as well. She’d never had rhubarb pie before, and had never had an interest in trying it either. When, in the process of getting Chester a piece, she got some on her thumb, it was just natural to suck it off. She found it to be sweet and delicious. By the time the old man had taken three bites of the pie she served him, she found herself taking a bite of a piece she got for herself.

Felicity walked back up, and folded her arms.

“Chester!” she barked. “How many times to I have to tell you to wait for dessert?”

“It’s Mirriam’s rhubarb pie,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Felicity took her baby back. Chester finished his pie and stood up.

“My undying gratitude is yours,” he said, bowing to Mirriam.

She blushed at his praise.

“I’ll save you another piece,” she said, looking at Felicity. “For later.”

“You’re spoiling him,” warned Felicity, but she smiled. She turned to her husband. “We have to make the rounds,” she said. “I still haven’t found Bobby.”

“Well, then,” said Chester, taking her elbow. “We’ll just have to make the rounds.”

When they were gone, Renee couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay any longer.

“They’re married?” she asked Mirriam.

Mirriam explained the story about Chumley Steel and Pipe, and Chester’s marriage to Felicity. It was the kind of gossip she loved, and which wasn’t really inappropriate for her to speak of. It was just history, to her reckoning.

“Wow,” said Renee, when the story was finished. “They seem so happy.”

“I think they are,” said Mirriam, looking off in the direction they had left. “I think they are,” she repeated.

A gaggle of girls rushed up to the table, making all kinds of noise. Some of them worked for Renee, and greeted her enthusiastically. It was more noise than Renee was comfortable with, though, and she got up to go explore the square, saying she’d be back later.

The reason Felicity hadn’t been able to find Bobby was because Jill Trimble had collared him first. She’d taken him to a big oak tree, in the farthest corner of the square, and put the tree between them and the crowd. It wasn’t dark yet, but the area was heavily shaded.

“You haven’t been by to see us in weeks,” she complained.

“I’ve just been busy,” he said, smiling.

“We miss you,” she said petulantly.

“I miss you too,” he said, putting his hands on her waist.

“I can’t kiss you here,” she complained. “Somebody might see us.”

“I don’t care,” he said, grinning, and squeezing her waist.

“I know you don’t,” she said, pouting. “But I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I see,” he said, smiling. She’d had his baby out of wedlock, and been the talk of the town for a while. She and Christy did such good work in their photography studio, though, that people ignored her indiscretions, for the most part. “Is Roger still behaving himself?” He was talking about Jill’s ex-husband, who was a mean and spiteful man that had gotten another woman pregnant while they were still married, and had flaunted it in Jill’s face. Jill’s original intention had been to get pregnant with Bobby’s baby to be spiteful back at him. That had changed though. She’d ended up having Bobby’s son because she wanted to have Bobby’s son.

“Roger will always be Roger,” she said dismissively. “He hasn’t spoken to me for over a year. I think he finally realized that I don’t care what he thinks about anything.”

“Good,” said Bobby.

“I hate you,” she said softly.

His eyebrow rose. “Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because I can’t help doing this,” she said.

She leaned up to kiss him, and it was a powerful kiss. Then she pulled away.

“Don’t neglect us, Bobby,” she said firmly.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, smiling.

It was after Bobby and Jill left the tree, and rejoined the throng, that Felicity saw him. Carrying her baby, she walked to him. They were right in the middle of a group of people, but she acted like there was nobody around.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said.

Charles reached for Bobby, who took him and held him, bouncing him in his arms, while the baby laughed.

“I’m glad,” he responded. “It’s an honor to be looked for by a woman like you.” He kissed Charles on the forehead.

“Chester would like to have more children,” she said, her voice normal. She said it with the same emotion in her voice as if she’d said, “Chester would like to have a sprinkler system installed in the lawn.”

“And what would you like?” Bobby asked her.

“I would like to give my husband what he wants,” she said. Her eyes supplied the passion that her voice did not contain.

“I’ll clear some time on my schedule,” said Bobby, smiling.

“Make time for Annie too,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Bobby, to his second woman that night.

Renee had stood, surrounded by people, and watched as Felicity saw Bobby and went up to him. It looked like they were just having a casual conversation, but Renee’s feminine intuition was going crazy. The way Felicity looked at Bobby ... the way she held her body ... the way she touched her hair while she talked to him ... the fact that she stood less than a foot from him ... all of those things said that she was interested in Bobby as a man, and not just as a casual acquaintance.

She watched Bobby too, and saw the familiarity with which he held, and cuddled Felicity’s baby. In an explosion of understanding, Renee realized that Bobby was holding his own child ... that Felicity was one of the women Bobby had spoken of, without naming. It was obvious, now that she thought about it. Chester was much too old to be this baby’s father, and he knew that as well as Renee did. Yet, he had claimed the boy as his own.

Renee felt a tightness in her chest that was both unfamiliar and uncomfortable. As Bobby handed his son back to the woman, and she treated him with a brilliant smile, Renee decoded that feeling. She was jealous! She was jealous of the look in that woman’s eyes, and of her smile, given to her clandestine lover ... her gigolo!

Renee was not happy about the conclusion that settled into her brain. She did not want to be jealous ... of Bobby or of any other man, for that matter. Yet, she had to admit that it was some form of jealousy that was making that tight knot in her chest. It demanded some kind of action. At the same time, she wanted to deny it ... to push it out ... to banish it from her mind and body.

Bobby turned and saw her. He started toward her. She almost turned and walked away from him, but her legs wouldn’t obey the command to move.

“Hi,” he said. He was so casual ... so normal ... so ... Bobby.

“That’s your baby,” she heard her mouth say.

Bobby looked over his shoulder at Felicity, who had rejoined her husband. Chester had taken the baby, and was holding him, bouncing him just like Bobby had, while Felicity talked to the people facing them.

“I thought we were finished talking about that stuff,” he said.

“I want another date,” her voice said, to her horror.

“Do you?” he asked.

She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. At the same time, she realized that her subconscious mind had done what it had demanded her to do ... take action. She did want another date, if only to claim some part of this man’s time. She let her hand drop. It twitched, but she ignored that.

“I do,” she said, this time on a completely voluntary basis.

“How about I pick the activity, this time?” he asked, his lips not quite smiling.

“What would that be?” she asked.

“How about we go to the drive-in?” he suggested.

Renee had never been to a drive-in movie theater. In her family, that was considered low-brow. She’d heard all kinds of stories about what happened at drive-ins. But that idea also appealed to the jealous part of her. She doubted very much that Bobby had ever taken Felicity Chumley to a drive-in movie. She was disgusted with herself for even thinking that.

“What kind of movie would it be?” she asked.

“Don’t know, and don’t care,” said Bobby. “It’s not about the movie. It’s about spending time together.”

“I want to have fun,” she said.

“If it’s not fun, we’ll leave,” he said immediately. “We’ll just go do something else, until you do have fun.”

“Okay,” she heard her voice say. “No funny business,” she warned.

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Bobby, for the third time that night.

Renee kept away from him after that, at least in terms of sitting next to him or standing next to him. She sat with the women at Mirriam’s table, and tried to submerge herself in the welcome, casual conversation.

Still, she couldn’t help but look at him when he was there, and her eyes strayed out in the crowd, looking for him when he wasn’t there too. It was very disturbing to her. What was even more disturbing was that she kept seeing children ... some of them her own clients ... who looked like Bobby.

Bobby eventually wandered back to the tables occupied by his mother and her friends, to get some pie and maybe a piece of cake. It was about time for the music and dancing to start, and he wanted dessert now, in case he got asked to dance. Prudence was there, and he asked her, as usual, how Constance was doing.

“The same,” she said, her voice dismal. “It’s been almost nine months, and I can’t get her to leave the house. She mopes around all day and does nothing.”

“She loved him,” said Bobby gently.

“I know that!” snapped Prudence. “I loved Harry too, and I grieved for him when he was gone, but life goes on!”

“You grieved for him for a lot longer than nine months,” said Bobby, still gently.

Prudence looked at him and scowled.

“I was a fool. You know that. It took you to teach me that.”

“I’m just saying that you had a rough time of it too. Are you so surprised that Constance is going through the same thing?” Bobby sat down beside the woman who still called him, once every so often, to come love her and leave her limp. Or had anyway, until her son-in-law had been killed. Bobby hadn’t been to her house in those nine months.

“It isn’t the same thing,” said Prudence, stubbornly. “In the first place, she was only married to him for a short while. And she had nothing to do with him dying.” Prudence looked at him. “A dozen people have tried to talk to her, but she won’t listen.” She frowned. “In fact, practically everybody has tried to talk to her except you. Why haven’t you talked to her, Bobby?”

“I’ve stayed away,” said Bobby, “because I know she had a crush on me, back before Tim, and I didn’t think it would be helpful if I tried to talk to her.”

“But don’t you see?” said Prudence. “She did have a connection to you. And you helped me understand things. You need to go see her.”

“I could just go kidnap her,” said Bobby, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, go in, put her over my shoulder, and bring her here.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” said the mother of the woman they were talking about. “In fact, I think that’s a great idea!”

Bobby held up his hands.

“Now wait a minute. I was just kidding. I can’t do that.”