"Here you go, guys. Let's do a little toasting to renewed hope and expectation." Joanne carried four glasses of straight whiskey into the living room and passed them out to Py, Pete and Jake, then took the last one for herself. She raised her glass in tribute. "And to Py, too," she said, "and to fresh starts."
The quartet clinked their glasses against one another's and then drank them down. "What's a matter, Py my boy," Jake said, noticing Py's expression as he downed the mash. "Nothing," Py said, barely able to regain his breath. "It's good." The contradiction between his words and his reaction brought a chuckle from his drinking buddies.
Py wasn't really much for liquor, but tonight was worth celebrating no matter what it took. He looked around at the faces, glowing in the warm, yellow light of an old kerosene lamp that sat on an end table to the side of the sofa. Joanne was beautiful in the soft glow, ethereal as she smiled at Jake and her dad and cracked jokes, spiritually orchestrating the high spirits of the evening. He noticed the way Jake looked at her, the way he sometimes stared, forgetting himself as he watched her. Smitten, thought Py. He hadn't known Jake for a long time, but this was the first he'd seen of this side of him. Jake's reputation was that of a cavalier, but this was a different Jake now, and Py knew it was because of this woman. Jake was in love and it showed. He'd fallen under her spell, which was easy for Py to understand because he'd fallen himself, though clearly the way Joanne acted toward him was different than the way she was with Jake. She wanted to
"Me and Py took a good look at your fences this afternoon," Jake told Pete. "We got a lot of work ahead of us."
"Is it just repairs, or is it gonna take new material?" Pete asked.
"I think we can rebuild what's out there, for the most part," Jake said. "There's a whole section over there on the south side that's down flat on the ground. We may have to replace a few posts there ..."
"There's a pile of old bodark out behind the quonset," Pete said. "It'll be tough to drive staples into, but it'll last a good long time."
"I bettcha we can work with it," Jake said. "With old Py's help here we can get it all back in shape in a few weeks."
"That'll be great," Pete said, smacking his lips. "You know, after that I'd sure like to get the yard here lookin' better. Maybe fix up the fence around the house, put a little paint on it ..."
"Oh that would be wonderful, Pop," Joanne said. "And this house, too. This place could look so nice with a little work." She paused for a moment, seemingly picturing the property in her mind, all rejuvenated and restored to its earlier condition. "I remember how it used to look when Mom was still alive. It was beautiful, Jake. It really was."
"As sweet a spread as you'd ever hope to see," Pete said, supporting Joanne's contention. "Joanne's mother used to ride herd pretty hard on us to keep the yard up. Used to make me mow the grass -we had grass, then -and keep the place all white- washed." Pete seemed to be hit by a thought, then he got up out of his chair and went over to a little writing desk, from which he took a picture album. "Look here," he said to Jake as he carried the album over to him. "Here's a picture of Joanne's mother."
The lady in the photograph could have been Joanne, except that the clothes were from another time. The eyes, the fine line of her nose ...it was all Joanne. Jake looked up at Pete. "She sure was beautiful," he said, glancing then at Jo to see that she got the compliment, which she confirmed with a slight smile.
"She'd sure be pleased to know that somebody's takin' an interest in the place again," Pete said. "She wouldn't have wanted to see it run down like it is."
"Well, we'll fix that," Py said confidently. "Won't be long before it's as good as new again."
"She used to dream that one day this place would be crawling with grandchildren
-and that Pa would have a hundred head of prime beef at pasture." Joanne radiated in her child's memories. "She was so proud of everybody, all the people in her life. This house right here was the very center of her world -her safe ground."
"Home,"Pete said.
"That's right," Joanne said. "She just wanted a big home for everyone. I sure think it's a beautiful idea. I wish she could have seen it."
Pete moved uneasily in his chair, effectively breaking the mood Joanne had spun. "Your mother had the misfortune of living in hard times," he said sadly. "It wasn't that her dreams were so big."
"It looks like you did pretty good for yourselves," Jake said. "You still got a pretty good spread here, leastwise compared to what most people have."
"I shouldn't complain, we've had it pretty good for the most part," Pete said. "Right away after we got married we got land from her family and we got a pretty good herd started. Had some good crop land -and we got this house built and put a yard in. And then she got pregnant with Joanny here. It all seemed to be in place, but then the
"Well, the depression's over," interjected Joanne, smiling broadly. She raised her glass in a second toast. "To the end of the depression!" It was a sentiment well accepted and everyone touched glasses.
"I got a picture here ..." Jake fumbled in his billfold and in the time it took for him to find the photo Joanne exchanged surprised looks with Py. This was a rare moment, Jake willingly revealing something about himself. He was loathe to talk about his past, where he came from, who his people were. Neither Joanne or Py had thought it likely that he carried anything so indicting as a family picture. "Here it is," he said. Jake looked at the photo briefly, then rubbed it face down on his jeans, polishing it up before handing it to Joanne.
It was a picture of a lady from a long time ago, with short hair curling in close to her head on the sides. She was plain, if somewhat dreamy, with deep-set, dark eyes, that looked a little like Jake's. Her positioning was Raphaelite, bespeaking the work of a small town photo parlor and a small time practitioner. She seemed focused on some spot just above the horizon, a place in infinity toward which all her conscious thought apparently flowed.
"Oh, she's pretty ..."Joanne said, a little less than convincingly.
"Let's see," Py said, taking the photo from Joanne. He looked at it, was rendered speechless, and then handed the picture to Pete, who looked at it and then held it far away, at arm's length, for easier inspection. "You resemble her a bit," Pete said. "Something about the mouth ..."
"Where was it taken?" Joanne asked.
"Grand Island, Nebraska," Jake said.
"Is that where you grew up?" Py asked.
"That was one of the places."
Jake wasn't exactly forthcoming with information, apparently happy to let the picture speak for itself. He had a mother and once she had her picture taken, and there it was. That was about all there was to it.
"Do you still have family in Nebraska?" Py asked, to which Jake answered -"No, they're all dead." "You got brothers or sisters?" he followed, and again Jake was close to the vest. "I got one of each," he said. "You ever seem 'em?" Py asked. "No," Jake said. And so it went, with Py interrogating Jake about his family and childhood, and Jake providing precious few details. Py was hungry for information on his partner, though, and he wouldn't take the hint that Jake had shared all he intended to. "You weren't in the war, were you?" he asked.
Jake grinned and chuckled softly. "I was in the Army during the war years, but I never got out of Fort Riley, Kansas. Never saw action overseas or anything like that."
Again, Jake allowed the conversation to screech to a halt. Py shook his head and smiled, trying to make as much as he could out of the exchange, but absent a volleying partner he finally, reluctantly decided to let it rest. Joanne and Jake exchanged pleasant looks and Py noticed that Pete's eyes had dropped shut and he had fallen asleep where he sat.
"Well, I guess I'm about ready to turn in," Jake said, placing his mother's photograph back in his wallet, rising up from his chair.
"It is later than I thought," Joanne said. "It's almost ten-thirty!"
"I want to get up early and get started on that fence," Jake said. He seemed warmed to the idea of having a task laid out before him.
It hit Py that he hadn't seen Jake's accommodations and was unsure as to where they were. Was he sleeping with Joanne? Under her father's roof? A twinge went through him, the way it often did when he was confronted with behavior too adult for his experience. He got up from his chair as Jake got up from his. "Py, I'll see you in the morning," Jake said, to which Py nodded affirmatively.
"You got a bunkhouse?" Py asked, surprised.
"Calling it a house would be a bit much," Joanne said. "There's room for one."
"I didn't see it," Py said. "Where's it at?"
"It's out in the windbreak," Jake said. "I'll show it to you tomorrow." He nodded to Py. "Goodnight," he said.
Jake and Joanne walked together through the living room and out to the back door, just off the kitchen. Py heard the screen door close, then noticing that Pete was deep in dreamland, still sitting up in his chair, Py crept through the house, tracing Jake and Jo's steps to the backdoor. He stood at the screen, peering out into the dark after them, unable at first to see them until a light went on in the bunkhouse that revealed them in silhouettes. They stood at the open door. Py watched as Jake drew her close to him and pressed his lips to hers. They locked in a passionate embrace, with Py looking on, his forehead pressed up against the door screen. The boy felt that pressure in his chest again, the clamping of blues around his heart. Then, turning slowly, he left Jake and Joanne to be alone with each other in the night.
END OF CHAPTER SIX