Born Under The Lone Star. Darlene Graham
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tapped the diary. “And he didn’t want his brilliant son’s life interrupted, either. Frankie was supposed to find the doctor to perform the…you know, the procedure, in Austin. She found a good doctor, a place where I would be safe. The plan was to get it done right after your wedding. But when the time came I just… I couldn’t. I knew…”
Markie bit her lip to hold back the emotion, then forced herself to go on. “I just knew any baby of Justin’s was bound to be beautiful, exceptional, and he became…the baby became so…so real to me.” She clutched the diary, remembering the things she’d written in those pages in the early stages of her pregnancy. “So Frankie and I made up the mononucleosis dodge and then she and Kyle found the Edith Phillips adoption center in Austin.”
“But how did you keep Mother from finding out that you changed your mind? How did you hide something like that?” Again, Robbie’s hand slid to her bulging tummy. She was only five months along and her pregnancy—her fourth—was already obvious.
Markie’s older sisters had always been utterly feminine, curvy and pretty, but for Markie it had been different. She had never considered herself all that beautiful, at least not until Justin had made her feel that way. Naturally tall and athletic, with angular shoulders and long legs, she had managed to conceal her pregnancy behind the camouflage of sloppy sweatpants and oversize letter jackets. Her plain brown ponytail, thick glasses and pale, unadorned complexion made it easy enough not to attract male attention in a high school filled with perky little blondes in skimpy pom-pom outfits.
“I think Mother made some kind of deal with the congressman. Supposedly she got money for my college education. I never saw much of it, I’ll tell you that.” Markie tried not to be bitter.
Her current life, the life of a successful political consultant with tons of friends, was enormously satisfying. But when she came back to Five Points the memories always surfaced afresh, and it was hard to look at her life objectively.
“How could Mother keep something like that from Daddy?”
“You have to ask? How does Mother do anything she’s determined to do? Listen—” suddenly Markie’s tone was urgent “—don’t stay here with her.”
“What?”
“Don’t move in with mother. She’ll only make your life miserable, bossing you around, manipulating your feelings. And you don’t need that now, not when you’re so vulnerable.”
“But… I can’t stay way out there on that big farm by myself. I’ll need someone to help me when the baby comes.”
“I’ll move out to the farm with you. I do most of my work on the phone and on the Internet this time of the year, anyway. And Five Points will be the locus of Doug Curry’s campaign. It’s in the center of his district.”
“Oh, man, I just realized something. Curry’s running against Congressman Kilgore. Are you sure you’re not working for this guy out of some kind of old spite? I mean, to get even or something? And isn’t it going to be hard for you to face the congressman, after all that’s happened?”
“Now, hold on just a minute.” Markie aimed a finger at her sister’s nose, then quickly squelched the gesture. She wanted to be gentle with Robbie, she really did, considering what Robbie had only recently endured, considering what lay ahead. It wasn’t Robbie’s fault Markie had made a mess of her life so long ago.
“For one thing, Congressman Kilgore doesn’t know what I really did about the baby. Nobody does, except for Frankie and Kyle, and I doubt Mr. Big Shot Surgeon has ever given it a second thought.” She ducked her head to meet her sister’s eyes. “And now that you know the truth, I can trust you to keep it to yourself, right?”
“Of course,” Robbie murmured. “Who on earth would I tell?”
What was left unsaid was that the one person in all the world Robbie might tell was recently dead. Markie could see that’s what her sister was thinking. She looked haunted, pained, the way she had looked almost constantly for these past few days.
And watching that expression overtake Robbie’s face again gave Markie a sick wave of guilt. She looked away. Here was her sister, coping with the loss of a husband, with the possible loss of her farm, and she’s berating the girl about keeping her own deep dark secret. Robbie, of course, couldn’t possibly understand the stakes, couldn’t possible know what Markie had discovered only a few days ago.
Brandon Smith. For one instant Markie relived the shock of seeing his picture among the applications, the shock of hearing his voice—so like his father’s—on the phone. Every campaign season she chose a protégé, a young go-getter to work alongside her in a congressional or senate race and learn the ropes. Every season, the competition for the internship got stronger. Applications poured in to McBride Consulting from all over Texas.
Markie patted Robbie’s hand. “Of course you won’t tell anyone. But please don’t go thinking I’ve got some kind of ax to grind with the congressman. I didn’t seek out his opponent or anything like that. Curry’s campaign contacted me. Because I’m the best, remember?” She nudged her sister and got a faint smile.
“And I firmly agree with Doug Curry’s positions on the issues. He’s going to do a great job in Washington. Old man Kilgore thinks he’s got this race all sewn up. He’ll make a few scattered appearances around the Hill Country and maybe he’ll even show his face once or twice in Five Points. In the mean time, we’ll be slowly and surely kicking his ass.”
At least Markie hoped that’s the way this summer would go. Not only for Doug Curry’s sake, but for her own. And for Brandon’s? She bit her lip as she pressed the diary to her middle, wishing she could see her son. Would that be worth the price? No. She already knew she would do what she had to do. The safe thing. Always protecting herself. She’d done it so long she didn’t know how to stop.
“So what do you say?” She affected an upbeat attitude, nudging Robbie again. “I can make Five Points Curry’s campaign base if I want to. Like I said, it’s smack in the middle of the district. I can stay with you out on the farm. Help with the bills and groceries and stuff. That way you can stay in your own home and keep the boys away from…” She rolled her eyes in the direction of the stairs at the end of the hallway. “You Know Who. And by the time this little darling arrives—” she gave her sister’s pregnant abdomen a soft pat, as if everything would be hunky-dory when that blessed event happened “—the election will be over and I can concentrate on taking care of you and the baby.”
“I don’t know,” Robbie frowned. “That’s a lot to ask of you. Maybe I should just stick to the plan and move in here.”
“What else has your spinster sister got to do?” Markie tried to kid her, then grew serious again. “Mother would suck the heart and soul out of you within a week and you know it.”
The sisters fell silent. Both of them knew the situation to be just so. Their mother was the most controlling woman in all of Five Points, in all of Keaton County, possibly in all of the state of Texas.
And somewhere below them inside the quiet walls of this picturesque Victorian-era farmhouse, the most controlling woman in all of Texas was seething, waiting. Waiting to pounce on her daughter Markie for daring to rebel yet again. Waiting to reexert control over the one thing she had always controlled more easily than any other—her daughter Robbie.
CHAPTER THREE
I promise you one thing, my little one, I will do everything in my power to see that your life is safe and happy. Even if that means giving you up—no. I don’t want to think about that right now. Not yet. I want to think happy thoughts because if I don’t, I’ll cry.
And if Mother catches me crying again, she’ll get suspicious for sure. Not that she isn’t already. When she reads what I just wrote on these pages, all hell will break loose.
(And you are reading this, aren’t you, Mother???)
P.S. I don’t care what