Small Town Girl

'I'm sure you're right.'

Casey and Faith had always gotten along together. Faith's placid personality seemed the perfect balance for Casey's excitable one. Faith had never criticized or badgered to get Casey to change her ways. Since she wasn't married to Kenny, she had no call to act like a parent; in giving Casey latitude, she had won her trust.

'Hey, Faith, can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

'When I'm gone, do you think you'll ever marry Daddy?'

Faith was still tipped forward with her inverted forearm draped across one knee. She fit the nail of her ring finger under the nail of her thumb and worked it around a little bit, studying it.

'I'd like to,' she said, meeting Casey's eyes again. 'But I just don't know.'

'But you've been going together for so long.'

'Maybe too long. We've each grown a little fond of our independence.'

'You're scared. Is that what you're saying?'

'No, I wouldn't say scared. Wise, maybe.'

'Is it because you're Catholic?'

'Well…partly.'

'But you and Daddy see each other every day. What would be different if you were married?'

'I know this won't make much sense to you, but your dad and I have the best of both worlds We have companionship, but at the same time we have our independence. I actually like going home to my little house and having nobody to answer to but myself.'

'That's probably because I'm so noisy and sassy that you're glad to get away from me.'

Faith smiled with genuine affection. 'Not so noisy and sassy that I won't miss you too when you're gone.'

'Has Daddy asked you-to marry him, I mean?'

Faith uncrossed her knees and dropped her hands to the edge of the mattress. 'Not for a long time.'

'Oh.' The room grew quiet as Casey sat studying Faith and trying to make sense of her relationship with Kenny. Finally Casey laid her guitar in its case, snapped the lid closed and stood it in the corner against her bookcase. She didn't understand why Faith's answer left her feeling blue.

'Well,' Faith said, taking a deep breath, 'I guess it's about time I was leaving. Feeling any better?'

'Not really.'

Faith rose and stood beside Casey's chair, a hand on her shoulder. 'As fathers go, he's a pretty good one.'

Casey nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor.

'Tell you what I suggest. Take a long, leisurely bath, and empty all of this out of your mind for a little while, and when you're done it'll all seem less crucial.'

Casey nodded again.

'Want to have supper with us?' Faith invited nonchalantly.

That's what Casey liked about Faith. She understood that sometimes you had to be alone. 'Naw. You go ahead without me.'

'All right. But don't wait too long to talk to your dad again. The longer you wait, the harder it gets, okay?'

'Okay. And thanks, Faith.'

Faith and Kenny ate alone that night, inside rather than out at the picnic table. After supper she ironed four shirts for him and watered his mother's old houseplants. She added spray starch to his grocery list and took out his garbage. When she left for home it was after eight-thirty and already dark. Kenny walked her to her car, which was parked in the alley, as usual. They went slowly, spiritlessly, into the sound of crickets and the dewy smell of the spring night, their moods still flat because of his disagreement with Casey. The porch light dimly illuminated the surface of the picnic table and laid its extended shadow on the damp grass at its feet. It ran a strip of reflection along the paint on the side of Faith's car as they walked around it and he opened her driver's door.

She turned before getting in. 'I think you're going to have to let her try whatever it is she wants to try with her music.'

He sighed long and deeply and said nothing. When he finally spoke, his frustration was apparent. 'Why couldn't she have gone to college or trade school? Something she could fall back on!'

'She'd be miserable in college and she'd probably drop out anyway.'

Kenny stood with one hand folded over the top of the open car door, staring at the toes of his shoes, which were illuminated by the dome light.

'I saw an interview with Henry Mancini once,' Faith told him. 'He said that his father had never thought music was a serious enough occupation, and even after he'd had many hits, even won Academy Awards, his father still wondered when he was going to get a real job. I always thought that was so sad.'

Kenny said nothing, just kept his hand on the car door, his eyes downcast, nodding repeatedly.

'Well, I must go,' Faith said. 'Good night, dear.' She kissed him on his cheek and he murmured 'Mm' as if scarcely aware she'd done it.

She got in and he slammed the door for her. She rolled down the window while the engine churned to life. 'Bridge at the Hollingsworths' tomorrow night,' she reminded him.

'Yes, I remember.'

As the car backed up and centered itself in the alley, he stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, following it with his eyes if not his thoughts. The headlights flashed across him and he raised his hand in an absentminded farewell.

When Faith's taillights disappeared, he stood for a long while, listening to the crickets, thinking about what she'd said regarding Henry Mancini. It was as close to chiding as he'd ever received from Faith. Good old Faith. What would he do without her? Especially after Casey graduated and moved away.

His gaze wandered across the alley to Mary's house. The downstairs lights were off and the single upstairs window below the roof peak was gold. Pretty early for a woman like that to be in bed, he thought. Where Faith's departure had scarcely registered, the nearness of Tess McPhail, a mere backyard away from him, smacked him with a sharp, masculine reaction, much like when he was in high school and hovered around the halls where he knew she'd be walking between classes. He stood looking up at her window recalling the exchange they'd had in the backyard a few hours ago, wondering how she could still manage to do this to him after all these years. By the time that encounter in the yard had ended they'd been flirting, hadn't they? Damned stupid, but that's exactly what they'd been doing. And why?

He'd made a happy, well-adjusted life for himself and Casey. He had exactly what he wanted-a nice little business that brought in enough money to afford him a comfortable life, a circle of long-time friends, one very special friend in Faith. All in all, a calm, secure, small town life. Then she came back and things started changing. Not only could she still manage to get under his skin, she was getting under Casey's as well. No matter what Faith said, he didn't want his daughter hanging around with Tess McPhail. Casey was too starstruck and impressionable to be molded by a woman like that. And as for himself, he'd better start acting like a committed man and being the kind of guy Faith deserved.

When he returned to the house Casey was in the kitchen, smearing peanut butter and jelly on a piece of toast. Her hair was clean and wet, and she was wearing a knee-length sleep shirt with a picture of Garfield the cat on the front. She licked the knife clean, holding the toast on the flat of her hand and watching him enter the room.

'Well…' he said, pausing just inside the door. 'You took a bath.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Still mad at me?'

'Uh-uh. Faith and I had a talk.'

He wandered a couple steps farther in. 'Faith and I had a talk, too.'

'What'd you two talk about?'

'You.'

She finished licking off the knife and set it down. 'Want a piece of toast? I made two.'

'Actually, that sounds kind of good.'

She handed him one and they rested their rear ends against the edge of the kitchen cabinets, munching.

'Our fights never last too long anyway, do they?' she ventured, balancing her toast on five fingertips, nibbling the crust.