Stuart sidled up beside her. “Has Mom eaten yet?”
“She was hungry earlier so I sat with her while she ate. She’s resting.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Does she ever come to the table?”
“Nope. She eats in her room or she doesn’t eat. That’s her choice, not ours.”
Marshall snatched two slices of bread off the cutting board. “Ma especially doesn’t eat when Thomas cooks.”
“I told you guys I’d rather be on dish duty every night. But that is another bonus of having our sister home. She cooks and cleans up.”
None of them disputed Thomas’s statement. As much as she loved her brothers, the instant she’d stepped foot in the house, they’d abandoned their regular duties and she’d become cook, cleaner, gardener, laundress and parental caretaker.
Carolyn took her usual seat at the table and looked at each of her brothers until they set down their utensils and bowed their heads in prayer. “Thank you, Lord, for the bounty you’ve given us. Amen.”
After they crossed themselves and a chorus of amens, they dug in.
She dished herself a plate. “Where is Dad, anyway?”
“At Harland’s.”
Their oldest brother and his wife Sonia lived on the small parcel of land that used to be the West Ranch. Since her father had no interest in ranching—he’d worked in the coal mine in Gillette her entire life—he’d passed the land on to his oldest son as soon as Harland was of age.
Supper was a fairly silent affair as her brothers were too busy stuffing their faces to bother with conversation.
Thomas pushed his plate away first. “Good meal, sis.”
“You’re welcome.”
He grinned and said, “Thanks. So, got any plans for tonight?”
“Nothing after doing the dishes. Why?”
“There’s a ballgame in Hulett. I’m meeting my buddy Randy there and then we talked about hitting Dusty’s afterward. Guess there’s a decent band tonight.”
“Randy…is he your short friend with the big mouth?”
Thomas snorted. “That’s Andy. Randy went to college on a partial baseball scholarship. He’s home for the summer. He’d really like to meet you.”
Since she’d lived in Montana the last six school years, she’d only stayed in contact with Beverly and she didn’t know Thomas’s friends. “I’ll go as long as you promise you won’t ditch me.”
“I almost wish I was goin’ along tonight,” Marshall said. “But I’ll probably be heading to work about the time you two roll in.”
“Sneak in,” Stuart corrected. “Even when Dad will be pretty drunk after bein’ with Harland, you don’t want him to know what time you got home.”
“Not a problem for me since I’m sleeping in the sun porch. I can climb through the window,” Carolyn said. Sleeping in the sun porch didn’t bother her. The small space had been tacked on the back of the house as an afterthought, and the poor insulation meant the room stayed cool at night.
“How long will it take you to get ready?” Thomas asked.
Her gaze swept the plates and pots and pans. “Half an hour to do the dishes and fifteen minutes to change.”
“Leave the dishes tonight. I’ll help you do them in the morning.”
Carolyn snapped him with a dishtowel. “Now I know you’re meeting a girl if you make that promise to get me moving.”
Thomas blushed. “Just go get ready.”
She styled her hair in long blonde waves. She slipped on a sleeveless plain white button-up blouse and added a snug-fitting baby blue cardigan. Feeling daring, she tugged on the pair of blue jeans her friend Cathy had given her. Cathy’s wealthy grandparents lived in Chicago and owned a clothing company so Cathy had scads of fashionable clothing that she loved to share.
A quick brush of powder, thick black eyeliner and a couple of passes of mascara made her eyes look more dramatic. She finished off with a coat of red lipstick.
She tucked her money, lipstick and ID in her back pocket—how wonderful was it not to have to carry a purse?—before she slipped on her heels.
Thomas leaned against the Pontiac he’d inherited from Darren. His eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ, Carolyn, what the hell are you wearing?”
“Language,” she snapped. Her brothers cursed like sailors. It drove her crazy.
“You can’t wear pants. People will think you’re a guy.”
Carolyn tossed her hair and stuck out her chest. “Really? I look like a man? This Randy you’re introducing me to is into guys?”
“Jes—jeez, that’s disgusting and beside the point. Now go change.”
“No. This is perfectly acceptable, completely fashionable attire to wear to a ballgame. And besides, I wore clothing like this all the time in Montana,” she lied.
“Right. I can’t see the nuns or the priests being onboard letting you prance around in that get-up, let alone Aunt Hulda.” He shook his finger at her. “You get any shi—crap about that outfit? Don’t come crying to me, wanting to go home. You’re stuck.” He climbed in the car and slammed the door.
As soon as they hit the paved road, Carolyn cranked up the radio. She was switching back and forth between the county station and the rock and roll station, singing along, when Thomas reached over and turned the music down.
“If you didn’t like my singing you should’ve said so.”
Thomas shook his head. “You were born with an angel’s voice, sis. I turned it off because I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” She had a warning flutter in her belly because Thomas was never serious.
“You’ve been back here for three weeks. Mom and Dad expect you to stay the summer but have you given any thought as to what you might do come September?”
She picked at the tiny balls of fuzz on her sweater and dropped them in the ashtray. “No. I mean yes, I’ve thought about it but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Mom needs someone to take care of her; she has for years, so I’ll probably—”
“No, Carolyn. I know you want to help, but you didn’t go away to school just to come back here and become Mom’s sole caretaker after you graduated.”
She turned sideways in her seat and gaped at him. Then why did he—and her brothers—expect her to do everything for their mother? “But—”