a straight stretch in the road, Jama felt one of those little talks in the air. Maybe Jama was alerted by the way Fran glanced at her every few seconds. The wonderful, strong, loving woman could speak volumes through her silence.
“You’re handling everything so well,” Fran said. “And in spite of what I said, I’m truly glad you insisted on coming with me.”
“So am I. It would have been hard to stay in River Dance today, waiting for a phone call, wondering about the results of the chest X-ray.”
Fran gave the barest shake of her head. “You know I’d have called you first thing.”
“So now there’s one less phone call you’ll have to make.”
They rode in silence a few more moments, and Jama relaxed enough to admire the dazzling light of the morning sun illuminating the pale green of new spring foliage, the white blossoms of dogwoods and the magenta of redbud trees. How many times over the past fifteen years had she longed to leave the classroom or the hospital and drive to the river, perhaps park at a Katy Trail lot and just walk for miles, maybe rent a bike and ride until she was far from everything and everyone?
Of course, it was impossible to run or bike far enough.
Fran rested her hand on Jama’s arm. “Other than this morning’s events, how do you feel about being back in town?”
Here it came. “I haven’t had time to decide.”
“You had time to think about it before coming.”
Jama flexed her hands on the steering wheel. “Why think about it? I had no choice. I couldn’t pay back the loan, not with all my other outstanding school debts.” Sometimes she felt as if she’d never get out from under. She had to admit to herself that Tyrell had done the right thing for her.
“You didn’t want to come?”
Jama hesitated.
“You have a home and a life in River Dance, if you’ll accept it, Jama. You’ve succeeded, just the way you and Amy dreamed you both would. That’s in spite of the odds against you, which weren’t your making.”
“I can’t blame anyone else for my behavior in high school, the drinking, running away from home, experimenting with drugs, vandalizing the school.”
“You did not vandalize the school,” Fran chided, conveniently ignoring the other self-recriminations that were right on target. “You simply climbed a tree with branches that were too slender to hold your weight. I don’t think breaking tree branches on school grounds constitutes vandalism.”
“The principal did, and it’s on my school records.” Besides, Jama had been drunk at the time.
“Nobody pays any attention to those records.”
“Except for scholarship boards.”
For a moment, Fran was quiet. Jama searched her mind for another topic to redirect this mother-daughter talk.
Tyrell, the stereotypical, high-achieving elder son, had earned a full scholarship to Columbia. He had been confident and strong from the cradle, it seemed, and yet he possessed a serene humility that drew people to him like birds to the Vignoles grapes on the Mercer Ranch hillside. He’d been the only Mercer sibling who’d already left for college when Jama came to live with the family, and though he’d always been affectionate with his kid sister’s best friend, Jama had never felt sisterly toward him.
Daniel, the second son, had sown his wild oats for about six months his junior year of high school, gotten it out of his system, and qualified for a scholarship, as well.
Heather and Renee, the twins, had surprised everyone. Inseparable through high school, they had pursued decidedly different careers. Heather and her husband, Mark Streeter, were both in the cardiothoracic surgery residency program in Kansas City. Renee, homeschooling mother of four, had completed two years of college, then pursued her lifelong dream of being a wife and mother with a large family. She even mothered Heather and Mark’s daughter, Doriann, while they worked their long hours at the hospital. Renee was a natural nurturer.
“Your kids have always been so encouraged to succeed,” Jama said. “You and Monty helped them follow their dreams. What a difference that makes in a kid’s life.”
“We’re so glad that Tyrell chose to follow in his father’s footsteps,” Fran said.
“He always loved the ranch. The rest of us chafed at the chores, but he really loved the work.”
“Yes, he did, but one reason Tyrell decided to return to River Dance and take over the ranch was because he knew you’d be here,” Fran said.
Jama glanced at Fran, then braced herself. Here it came again. “He told you that?”
“Didn’t have to. I’m his mother. Besides, he isn’t a hard man to read. I think you’ve probably developed that skill, as well.”
“There’s no way he would have quit his job at the university extension center just because I’d be here. We talked about it, and he wanted to come back, anyway. He loves the ranch.”
“He’s always loved the ranch, but can you tell me why else his arrival back home would coincide with the arrival of a certain young, beautiful doctor?”
Jama couldn’t answer that. She hadn’t asked him to come back.
“So things might become a little awkward now,” Fran said with a slight lift in her voice. It was a gentle question.
“Nope.”
From the corner of her eye, Jama could see Fran watching her.
“Not just a little?” Fran asked.
“Not at all. We’re both adults, and we know how to handle ourselves with maturity and grace. Or at least, Tyrell does.”
“You’re not going to give up information easily, are you?” Fran asked. “What’s going on between you two?”
“At this moment, we’re both focused on Monty.”
“Jama.”
“Nothing awkward, we’re both just concerned about something more important.”
“You know what I mean. What happened between you two that Tyrell won’t talk about to anyone?”
“Tyrell proposed, I didn’t accept. End of story.”
There was a brief silence, then Fran said, “I find that hard to believe, sweetie. That it’s the end of the story, I mean.”
“It’s true. It’s difficult to talk about, and I know it hurt Tyrell as much as it hurt me.”
“Are you telling me the crush you’ve had on him all these years didn’t evolve?” Fran asked.
Jama suppressed a sigh. Growing up, Jama never could conceal her feelings, and certainly not from Amy and Fran. “It’s me, Fran. It isn’t Tyrell’s fault that I’m not ready for the commitment of marriage.”
“For
