Page 119 of Lone Star Longing
“That would be fun, but who’s going to try it? I mean, we have maybe twenty people who’d use it.”
“Well, in town, yes, but the idea is to get people to come out from San Angelo to use it.”
“That’s a long way for something that would only be useful at night. You figure in the summer time, you can’t start a movie until nine, they run about two hours, you don't start driving home until after eleven.”
“And also we were talking about the city buying the land that the garage is on, getting it cleaned up, since he won’t do it. What kind of business do you think could go there?”
“What’s with all these ideas? Don't you have enough to think about right now?”
“I do, but I was thinking, you’re building a house, the drive is getting tiring, even though, you know, you’ve driven across the country. I’m just trying to think of what kind of business you could open in town that would be sustainable. We don't have a garage anymore, and you did work for a race car driver.”
He shook his head. “That’s not something I’d be interested in. At all.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have to do the work. You could hire someone. I don't know. Or you could build something else there. Apartments, maybe.”
“And who would live in those apartments?”
“People who are tired of living with their parents.”
He was watching her. “What is going through your mind right now?”
“Nothing. I guess I just saw the town through different eyes today, and I saw what we’re lacking and what we need, and, I don't know. I feel like we need a way to hold people here.”
“Hold people? Or hold me? Because investing in a house is one thing, but investing in a business is something else. Investing in a business is like investing in the future of this town.”
“I suppose. I was just listening to them talk about how miserable we must be because we don't have this, or that, and I was thinking that I don't want you to be miserable without those things, and then I was thinking if anyone in town had the means to do something about it, you did.”
“Lacey.” He turned her to him, holding her arms. “I have a reason to stay, a reason not to be miserable. I’m trying to tell you this, but you’re not really hearing me right now. I think maybe you will, so I’ve got to keep trying.”
She blushed and turned away from him. “There has to be something more than me holding you here. I’m afraid that won’t be enough.”
“It’s more than enough. It’s the best reason I can think of. I swear that to you.”
The sound of her dad’s car pulling in the driveway gave her an excuse to pull away and think of something else.
“I brought a tablecloth, too,” Marianne said, so that Lacey had to pick up the silverware she’d just set out. “Hi, Beck, good to see you.”
The lasagna was already sitting out on the table when Joyce, Tanya, Leonard and the kids arrived.
“Sorry we’re late. Caydence crashed hard and we had trouble waking her up,” Tanya said, her attention all focused on Beck. “Hi, I’m Tanya.” She approached him with her hand outstretched. “You probably don't remember me because I’m much younger than Lacey.”
Lacey coughed. “Three years.”
“Much younger,” Tanya repeated. “You’re Beck, I know. This is my husband Leonard, our kids, Caydence and Leo, and our mother Joyce. Mom, do you remember Beck Conover?”
Well. Lacey had planned to introduce him, but that was just fine. Her family’s inspection of him was a little awkward, but that was also just fine. Beck knew what he was getting himself into when he accepted this invitation. She wondered that Marianne wasn't getting the same scrutiny.
“The house looks just the same,” Joyce said, her tone a little flat. “It’s almost like walking back in time.”
Lacey wasn't sure what she expected to see. Her dad had been busy in the service, and then at the power company. He hadn’t really invested much time in the house.
“And this is Marianne Skyler, and she’s made a wonderful dinner for us,” Lacey said, stepping forward to Marianne’s side. “All homemade.” Lacey realized as she said it, she didn't indicate the woman’s relationship to her dad, so her introduction made her sound more like a maid than a friend, but she’d already told them about Marianne.
Her father, to Lacey’s surprise, put his hand around Marianne’s shoulders. “We’ve been together a few months now.”
“That’s very nice,” Joyce said primly, and Lacey wondered if her voice was ever going to relax. “We brought some wine, from Houston. And I think it will go very well with the lasagna.”
Okay, so Lacey and her dad not only only had eight plates, they had two wine glasses, and they were different sizes, and etched with the names of different wineries. So she was forced to give the wine glasses to her mom and Tanya, while everyone else used the tumblers they usually used for juice.
