Clara finished the banana. “Why are you and Grandma so different? And that isn’t doing jack squat for my headache.”
“Vernie Sue was always the little angel with her blond hair and pretty blue eyes. I was the spitfire, ornery twin, with my red hair. We should be in that book of world records as the most different twins ever to be born.”
“Do you believe in God?” Clara asked.
“Of course I do, and I have the T-shirt withI love Jesus, but I drink a littleon the front to prove it.” Bernie chuckled.
Clara would be a terrible poker player. What she was thinking was written all over her face. “Are you serious? Do you wear that in front of Grandma?”
“I did at the last reunion,” Bernie answered. “I was only there for about five minutes. She told me that I wasn’t welcome in a blasphemous shirt like that, so I left. That was a long time ago, and I haven’t been back.”
Clara put her hands over her eyes. “When she found out I had been working as a bartender, she told me I was acting like you and that I was going straight to hell.”
“I’ve heard that sermon before,” Bernie said.
“Mama didn’t take up for me,” Clara moaned.
“Pity party was over when you went to bed last night,” Bernie reminded her. “Grow an attitude and don’t worry about what other people—not even your kinfolks—think of you.”
“That’s easier said than done.” Clara’s tone said she was about to start crying, but she sucked it up and went on. “When Mama retired from her job with the FBI and got all involved with Grandma’s church work, she got the same outlook as Nana Vernie Sue.”
“When was that?” Bernie asked.
“When I was about five years old. I could never do a blessed thing right, but things got even worse after that.”
“What about your dad? Is he all up in the church, too?” Bernie asked.
“No, but he does go sometimes, just not every Sunday. Basically, he talked to Luke and Myra and ignored me,” she said. “But then, according to what Nana Vernie Sue said when I did something wrong, I was the oops kid. When I asked her what that was, she said it was one that they didn’t really plan on having.”
Bernie opened the container of applesauce, slid it over to Clara, and put on a pot of coffee. “Life happens.”
“Is that another rule?”
“Nope, it’s a fact,” Bernie answered with a yawn. “So, Vernie Sue and your mama came down on you for working at a bar?”
“Yes, and for not going to church regularly, and for living with my boyfriend without a marriage license, and then for breaking up with him because they thought he was a wonderful man,” she answered. “They liked Kent. No, that’s not right. They loved him even more than they did me. He proved that he could charm the underpants off a holy woman when he met my family, but that was just an act.”
“When did you kick him out?” Bernie asked.
“A year ago, buthekickedmeout, and I will never move in with a man again.”
“How in the hell did they not know for a whole year?”
“It’s a long story, but the short version is that I didn’t go home or call very often. There was always tension in the air while I was there, like maybe I had cooties that would jump off on them,” Clara said with a shrug. “Can I have the coffee and aspirin now?”
Bernie filled a mug with coffee, shook a couple of pills out into her hand, and set both in front of Clara. Then she picked up her half-empty cup and sat down across from Clara. “I’m awake now and in the mood for a story, so talk to me.”
Clara opened her eyes and took the aspirin with a sip of coffee. “I moved in with Kent and knew by the nextweek I had made a mistake. He was the jealous type and hovered over me until I could hardly breathe. But…” She added two spoonsful of sugar to her coffee. “This is really strong.”
“It’s coffee. Anything less is just murdered water,” Bernie said. “Go on with this thing about Kent.”
“We worked together at an oil company in Amarillo. We had already moved in together when he went home with me to the family reunion a year ago. Mama and Grandma loved him. He lied and said that we went to church regularly and belonged to a young adult group. I didn’t correct him because I wanted them to like him—and me, too, for that matter.”
“Was he religious?” Bernie asked.
“Not in the least, but he really sucked up to them both. Then I lost my job and went to work bartending from six in the evening to two in the morning. One of Kent’s friends knew about a dancing job in a strip joint, and Kent was determined I would take it because it paid better than what I was doing, and I was letting him control our joint bank account that he insisted we set up when we moved in together. I refused and he kicked me out.”
Anger boiled up from Bernie’s toes to her the tips of her dyed red hair. “Did you tell your mother and grandma about that?”
