her cosmetics into a small zippered case.
'Nothing's changed in the Catholic Church, and I know it means a lot to you, being able to go to Communion.'
'Yes, it does. I'm… well… I'm content if you are, keeping things the way they are.'
'Fine with me.' Kenny kept leaning on the towel bar, watching her as she smoothed a hand down her torso and retucked her blouse neatly into her waistband. 'Casey asked me something else last night.'
'What was that?'
'She wanted to know if you put out.'
Faith swung around and tried to stop herself from laughing, but could not. A soft ladylike snort escaped as she covered her lips.
'Oh, good gracious. What did you tell her?'
'I told her, 'On occasion.'
'You did not.'
Kenny dropped his hand from the towel bar and grinned, moving toward her, letting his head tip to one side. 'No, I didn't, but if I remember right, you do put out now and then, don't you?'
'Kenneth,' she chided, dropping her gaze like a blushing virgin.
He walked up against her and joined his hands on the shallows of her spine while she put her arms around his shoulders, leaning back and looking up at him.
'It's been a while,' he said, 'and we have the house to ourselves.'
'I just freshened my makeup.'
'We have twenty minutes before we have to leave for Laurie and Yale's.'
She checked her watch over his shoulder. 'Fifteen,' she corrected. 'But… well… all right.'
They went up to Kenny's room, where Faith removed her slacks and pantyhose, and laid them neatly on a chair. He threw his trousers and shorts on the foot of the bed and said, 'Why don't you come over here on the edge of the bed?'
Obediently she went where he suggested, and arranged herself in suitable fashion that would mess them both up the least. His shirttails got in the way and she held them aside. When he made overtures as if to incite her to orgasm, she said, 'We don't have time, Kenny,' and he obediently desisted. Reaching his own orgasm, he grunted softly. These were the only verbal exchanges they made during the coupling, although when it was over they smiled at each other. Then he kissed her for the first time that night, and she said, 'We'll have to hurry because Laurie likes to get started on time.'
When they left the house together, Faith was just as neat and tidy as she'd been at work that day.
At nine o'clock that night Tess was just eating her supper-flatbread topped with herbed tomatoes and goat cheese, broiled. She was sitting at the kitchen table barefoot, in her baseball cap and a huge white Garth Brooks T-shirt, turning the pages of a JCPenney catalogue that had arrived in her mother's mail that day. The radio on top of the refrigerator was tuned to KKLR in Poplar Bluff and Trisha Yearwood was singing 'Thinkin' about You.'
Out in front of Kenny's house, Casey parked her pickup truck in its usual spot at the curb, walked around the south side of the building to the back porch door and called inside, 'Hey, Dad, you home yet?' Getting no answer, she glanced across the alley. It was a warm spring evening with crickets singing and fruit trees blooming in the dark, giving the yards a faint sweet smell. Mary's kitchen light was on and the back door open: the invitation proved too much for Casey.
The sound of the radio wafted out as she bounded up the back steps and put her forehead to the screen. Peering sharply to her right she could see three empty chairs at the kitchen table. The view of Tess, sitting on the fourth, was bisected by the doorway into the room.
'Hi, Mac. It's me, Casey!'
Mac leaned forward and called, 'Hey, Casey, come on in!'
Casey went in. 'Just got back from visiting your mom. Saw your lights on.'
'How is she?'
'They got her up to walk once while I was there.' Casey winced as if watching Mary now. ''Ouch.'
'I know. But she's a tough one. Sit down. Want some flatbread?'
'What's flatbread?'
'This pale flat stuff without leavening. No fat. No fuss. Just broil some tomato and cheese on it, then put a little fresh basil on top and you got a meal. Here, have one.'
Casey picked up a wedge and took a bite. 'What's this white stuff?'
'Goat cheese.'
Casey stopped chewing and looked sickly. 'Goat cheese?''
'Never tasted goat cheese?' Tess took another piece herself. 'It's good.'
'Phew!' exclaimed Casey. 'Tastes like their damn pen.'
'Mm… the world's a big place. Lots of new things to taste out there.'
'I bet.' In spite of her complaint, Casey persevered and took a second bite. After all, if the great Tess McPhail ate goat cheese, Casey was going to, too. The fresh basil was a new and delectable taste, and before long she had finished her first piece. 'It's not so bad if you keep at it. Can I have another one?'
'Sure, go ahead. I'll make more.'
Tess got up to do so, and while the new pan was broiling, she brought Casey a Coke, and said, 'Your second verse is good. I'm going to use it.'
Casey looked stunned. 'You're kidding!'
'No. I like it. I thought maybe since tomorrow's Saturday you could come over and we'll work on it some more, see if we can finish it together.'
'Really? Me?'
'Really. You. But you know what? When it's published, you'll have to take credit as one of the writers.'
'Oh, Mac, are you serious?'
'Of course. I called my producer and told him to save one slot on the new album for it. The quicker we finish it the better.'
Casey locked her hands on top of her head and stretched out on her chair grinning up at the ceiling in rank ecstasy.
'Boy. My dad's not going to believe this. Nobody is. I can't believe you're gonna do this for me!'
'You're the one who's doing it.'
Casey let out a whoop that lifted her heels, and Tess watched with pleasure.
'I gotta go out and take care of my horse first thing in the morning, but I'll be here after that.'
'Great. But right now we eat.' The new pan of flatbread was bubbly, and she carried it over to the table with a pot holder. 'Let's celebrate our new association-co-writers.'
Tess stretched out like Casey, both of them with their heels on the same chair. While they ate, Tess said, 'I met Faith today. She's a nice lady.'
'Yup. Faith and me, we get along like Ricky Skaggs and steel strings. Hey, you ever meet Ricky Skaggs?'
'Sure. Played at some state fairs with him a couple years ago.'
'How 'bout Alan Jackson? You met him?'
'Sure. You ever heard of Freer, Texas?'
'Nope.'
'Rattlesnake Roundup there every year. Looks like Alan Jackson and I might be there again this year.'
While their impromptu dinner continued, Tess mesmerized the girl with stories about going on tours and doing concerts with the big names. They finished off all but one piece of flatbread and threw their crumpled napkins on the pan. Casey accidentally burped out loud and they laughed at her surprised expression. Travis Tritt and Marty Stuart came on the radio with an oldie, 'The Whiskey Ain't Workin' Anymore,' and they yowled along like a couple of beer swillers in a bar.
That's how Kenny found them.
It was shortly after ten when he pulled into his garage and closed the overhead door. From clear out in the alley he could hear their voices, and recognized Casey's immediately, singing at the top of her lungs. Was she over there
