she couldn’t get Hayden from her mind, Nadine held her tongue. Her curiosity was better left alone, she decided, as she spent the next few hours vacuuming the house and helping her mother weed the garden where strawberries, raspberries, beans and corn grew row by row.
An hour before her father’s shift was over, Nadine took a quick shower and combed her red hair until it fell in lustrous waves to the middle of her back. She slipped into a sundress and glossed her lips, thinking she might see Hayden again. Her silly heart raced as she dashed to the pickup with Bonanza leaping behind her. Guiltily she left the dog behind. She couldn’t take a chance that he would soil or wrinkle her clothes in his enthusiasm for a ride.
A few minutes before quitting time, Nadine turned the old truck into the lot of the mill. Other workers were arriving for the next shift and men in hard hats gathered near the gates, laughing, smoking or chewing tobacco as they talked and relaxed for a few minutes between shifts.
From the cab of the Ford, Nadine scanned every inch of the parking area, but discovered the sleek Mercedes was gone. Her heart took a nosedive. She looked again, hoping to see signs of the car or Hayden, but was disappointed. Her brows drew together and she felt suddenly foolish in her dress.
“Don’t you look nice!” Her father opened the pickup’s passenger door. Smelling of sawdust and sweat, he shook out his San Francisco Giants cap, squared it onto his head and climbed into the warm interior. “Goin’ out?”
“Nope.” She stepped on the throttle. “I just wanted to get cleaned up.”
He smiled at her and she felt foolish. “I thought maybe you and Sam had decided to go somewhere.”
“Not tonight,” she replied, irritated at the mention of Sam. Yes, she dated him, but that was all. Everyone assumed they were going together—even her family.
“Boy, am I glad it’s quittin’ time,” he said, rubbing the kinks from the back of his neck. “Hardly had time for lunch, today.” He leaned against the back of the seat and closed his eyes as Nadine drove him home.
It wasn’t until later, during dinner, that Hayden’s name came up. The Powell family, minus Kevin who was working the swing shift at the mill, was seated around the small table. Over the scrape of forks against plates, the steady rumble of a local anchorman’s voice filtered in from the living room. From his chair at the head of the table, George could glance at the television and despite his wife’s constant arguments, he watched the news. “It’s a man’s right,” he’d said on more than one occasion, “to know what’s goin’ on in the world after spending eight hours over that damned green chain.”
Donna had always argued, but, in the end, had snapped her mouth shut and smoldered in silence through the evening meal while her husband had either not noticed or chosen to disregard his wife’s simmering anger.
But this night, George hardly glanced at the television. “You shoulda seen the fireworks at the mill this afternoon,” he told his wife and children. Smothering his plate of meat loaf and potatoes with gravy, he said, “I was just punchin’ in when the boss’s kid showed up.” He took a bite and swallowed quickly. “That boy was madder’n a trapped grizzly, let me tell you. His face was red, his fists were clenched and he demanded to see his father. Dora, the secretary, was fit to be tied. Wouldn’t let him in the office, but the old man heard the commotion and he came stormin’ out into the reception area. Old Garreth takes one look at Hayden and the kid tosses a set of keys to his father, mutters some choice words not fit to repeat at this table, turns on his heel and marches out. Damn, but he was mad.”
“What was it all about?” Ben asked, buttering a slice of bread and looking only mildly interested.
“I didn’t stick around to find out. But the kid didn’t want his car—a honey of a machine—Mercedes convertible, I think.”
“Why not?” Ben asked, suddenly attentive.
“Hayden claimed he was old enough to see who he wanted, do what he wanted when he wanted, with whom he wanted—you know, that same old BS we hear around here. Anyway, the gist of it was that he wasn’t going to let Garreth tell him what to do. Said he wasn’t about to be...just how’d he put it?” Her father thought for a minute and chewed slowly. “Something to the effect that he couldn’t be bought and sold like one of Garreth’s racehorses. Then he just flew out of there, leaving me and Dora with our mouths hangin’ wide open and old Garreth so mad the veins were bulgin’ big as night crawlers in his neck.”
“Sounds like Hayden finally got smart,” Ben observed as he reached for a platter of corn on the cob. “His old man’s been pushing him around for years. It was probably time he stood up to him. Although I, personally, would never give up a car like that.”
“Maybe you would if the price was too high,” Nadine interjected.
“Hell, no! I’d sell the devil my soul just to drive a Mercedes.”
“Ben!” Donna shot her son a warning glance before her knowing eyes landed on Nadine again. For a second Nadine thought her mother would tell the family about Hayden’s visit, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“I’ve never seen Garreth so furious,” George said. “The old man looked like he was about to explode, and I hightailed it out to the yard and got to work. None of my business anyway, but it looks like Garreth’s got his hands full with that one.”
Donna shot her daughter a glance. “Nadine gave Hayden a ride into town.”
Squirming in her chair, Nadine caught Ben’s curious stare. “Is that right?” Ben asked.
Her father’s eyes, too, were trained in her direction.
“What’d he say?” Ben wanted to know as he tried to swallow a smile.
“About the same thing that Dad overheard.”
Ben snorted. “If you ask me, the whole fight isn’t about a car, it’s over Wynona Galveston.”
“Galveston?” Donna picked up her water glass. “Dr. Galveston’s daughter?”
“I think so,” Ben replied. “Anyway, I heard something about it from his cousin Roy.”
“I wouldn’t trust anything Roy Fitzgerald said,” Nadine cut in.
Shrugging, Ben said, “All I know is that Roy said Hayden’s supposed to be gettin’ engaged to her and she’s the daughter of a famous heart surgeon or something. Roy was bragging about how rich she was.”
“Well it seems Hayden isn’t interested.” George glanced to the television where the sports scores were being flashed across the screen. Conversation dropped as he listened to news of the Oakland A’s and the San Francisco Giants, and Nadine was grateful that the subject of Hayden Monroe had been dropped. She picked up her plate and glass, intending to carry them both into the kitchen, when she caught a warning glance from her mother. See what I mean, her mother said silently by lifting her finely arched eyebrows. Hayden Garreth Monroe IV is way out of your league.
* * *
THE NEXT TIME she saw Hayden was at the lake on Sunday afternoon. Nadine and Ben had taken the small motorboat that Ben had bought doing odd jobs for neighbors to the public boat launch. They spent the afternoon swimming, waterskiing and sunbathing on the beach near the old bait-and-tackle shop on the south side of the lake.
