Shadows from the Past

Kam waited until Rudd picked up his soupspoon and then she followed suit. “Are you going to plant Hubbard squash in your garden this year?” she asked Iris. The soup tasted heavenly. The salty bacon enhanced the nutty flavor of the squash. The sour cream melted and swirled in the golden contents and reminded her of an abstract painting. It was a beautiful presentation.

“Absolutely,” Iris gushed, excitement in her voice. “In fact, I’m going to add another squash this year, a Lakota squash. This kind has orange and green vertical stripes. Some of my friends tell me it has the same firm consistency as Hubbard. You need a good, meaty flesh for a good squash soup.”

“Good to know,” Kam said, finishing off her soup. She glanced over at Allison who seemed bored, her soup untouched.

“Just because Ms. Trayhern is here you trotted out your squash soup. You know I hate squash, Iris,” Allison said defiantly.

Rudd sighed. “Allison, Hazel always cooks one soup a day and you know that. And we have squash soup at least once every two weeks.”

Kam could feel Rudd’s concern that his wife’s petulance would ruin the festive atmosphere. Iris slurped down the soup with relish and seemed content, her appetite clearly in place. Kam felt she had to speak up. “I thought the soup was wonderful, Becky. Thank Hazel for me. I’d love to get this recipe.” She almost added that her mother would love to have it. She certainly didn’t want them to get entangled in her family background. At least not until the time was right.

“Thank you, Kamaria,” Becky said, adroitly moving around the table and removing soup bowls. “Hazel loves to have feedback on her meals. She wants to make people smile over her creations.”

Iris smacked her lips, drank a bit of her red wine and patted her mouth with the white linen napkin. “Now, that’s a great start to a great meal, Kamaria. You see? Food like this is a special treat and I can see you appreciate it.”

“I do,” Kam said. “At home, my mother uses all the veggies from her garden to cook with, too.”

“Oh,” Allison groaned, shooting a look at Kam. “Don’t tell me you’re into gardening, too?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.” Kam felt the only way to deal with Allison, who wanted to be queen bee, was to treat her with respect.

Allison sighed. “Well, Iris, this will be your first caregiver who loves gardening.” Then she looked at Kam. “You know, every caregiver we’ve hired has left a month after arriving here.”

Iris gave Allison a narrow-eyed look. “And I wonder why?”

Kam felt the tension sizzle between the two women.

“No, Iris,” Rudd rumbled, “let’s not go there. I want a peaceful meal for once. Kamaria is our guest. Can we table some of our conversations at least for tonight?”

Kam saw the faces of the three players. Iris looked incensed. Allison became smug. Rudd appeared frazzled, as if playing the referee between two boxers. Of course, with the dissension here between Allison and Iris, Kam could see how the family dynamic drove off previous employees.

Becky brought out a small garden salad drizzled with buttermilk dressing. The portions were small and she was glad.

“I’m leaving for L.A. tomorrow, Rudd. My friends are throwing a party at the Beverly Hills Hotel and they want me to attend.” Allison smoothed her hair and affected a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll be gone for five days.”

Rudd nodded and handed Becky his emptied salad bowl. “Is Regan going along?”

“Probably. She hasn’t made up her mind yet. You know she has that Goth boyfriend in Jackson Hole.” She smirked. “I’m trying to pull her away from that slovenly thing. I checked on him and his parents are truckers. Trash, Rudd. Regan needs to understand she has to get into her own class and not go to the belly of the whale for friends or relationships. It’s so frustrating!”

Kam glanced over to Iris, who shook her head in dismay.

“No one is trash, Allison,” Iris shot back. “Classism didn’t build this ranch, you know. A lot of people worked untold hours. Truckers are very important people to us. And I’ve found them to be more than honorable folks. Charlie and Rose Burger do a lot for the poor of that town. He’s with the Elks and she’s with the Soroptomist Club. They raise a lot of money for the needy. I don’t see them bein’ called trash by the likes of you.”

Kam gritted her teeth and stared down at her salad bowl. Did they spar like this at every meal? Iris took no prisoners, but then, Allison seem to delight in dropping bombs to goad the old woman. Conversation like this was murderous to sit through, Kam decided.

“Regan’s boyfriend, Justin, is a good enough boy,” Rudd said. “He’s hard-working, Allison. Charlie and Rose raised him right.”

Allison sniffed. “I just don’t want our daughter hanging around with the likes of him. She’s better than that. I’m hoping she’ll meet an actor to marry.”

Iris snickered. “Oh, yeah, that’s right—marry an egotistical monster who can’t do without bright lights, fawning people and a bunch of hangers-on. Right.”

Allison glared at Iris, then looked down the table at Rudd, as if to say silently that he should protect her from his mother’s acidic comments.

Rudd did nothing but scowl, and spread butter across a warm biscuit.

Kam remained silent. How lucky she had been to have Morgan and Laura as parents! Their dinner table was full of lively conversation, searching talks, excitement about things each family member was doing—never this kind of nastiness. First of all, they would not have allowed these types of personal attacks at the dinner table. Secondly, this was a place to meet and talk and catch up on what everyone else was doing. She wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and thanked Becky as she came by to pick up the bowl.

“Hollywood is much more than that, Iris,” Allison sniffed. She saw Becky coming with the main course and halted her tirade.

A delicious stew was placed in front of Kam, along with some freshly steamed asparagus bathed in cheese sauce.

“Now, Kamaria, this is our own buffalo meat,” Iris crowed proudly. She swept her hand down toward her plate. “Do you know I’ve got a Web site where we sell our bison products? Allison said going online was a bust but I proved her wrong,” Iris gloated and grinned over at Allison, who pointedly ignored her. “We make five hundred thousand dollars a year off Internet orders from folks around the world. Isn’t that something? I might be old, but I sure like the gizmos we have at our disposal for marketing and advertising on the Net. You on the Net at all?”

Smiling, Kam swallowed her food. “Yes, I am. I’d love to see what you’ve done with your Web site, Iris.”

“My geek guy, Tom Courtland, takes care of my server in Jackson Hole. He’s a peach. I give him fresh veggies and fruit from our orchard every year. Of course, he’s well paid for what he does and he’s endlessly creative. I’ve asked Tom to bring a computer into your suite tomorrow. Then you and I can have some fun.”

Kam warmed to Iris even more. She was passionate, unafraid to try out new things and was obviously inventive in her businesses. “I’d love to sit down with you, Iris.”

“She’s the geek in our family,” Rudd said, smiling. “I don’t care for the darned things. Never could warm up to them. Can’t hardly use my cell phone, but I’m forced to in today’s world.”

Kam understood his complaint. “A lot of people are turned off by computers.”

“It’s the e-mails,” Rudd complained.

“Well, I told you to hire an office assistant who could field all the e-mail requests for information on our dude ranch,” Iris chastised him. “But you won’t do it. Sometimes I think you like to be miserable, Rudd. Just getting a young person in there for at least the summer dude-ranch time to help you seems like a better way to go. Instead, you sit in that office fuming and cursing under your breath as you use two fingers to try and type out a message.”

Kam tried to squelch her chuckle but couldn’t. “Hey, my sympathy is with Mr. Mason,” she teased Iris. “A lot of people are ham-handed when it comes to computers. Not that I’m a geek, but I practically grew up using a computer.”

Giggling, Iris nodded. “And some people just don’t want to learn new tricks. My son has a stubborn streak. One of these days when he’s bald after pulling out what’s left of his hair, he’ll see the wisdom of hiring an office assistant.”

Rudd grinned. “I don’t want to go bald, Iris.”

“Well, then, let me put out feelers to the employment office in Jackson and let’s see what I can scare up for you.”

“Maybe it’s time,” he agreed. “Besides, I’m better served dealing with daily ranch life. I hate the office.”

“Not much of a saddle to sit in, is it?” Iris quipped with a laugh.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Rudd smiled sheepishly. “No, it isn’t.”

Allison shook her head and rolled her eyes again. She’d played with the food on her plate. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“You’ve barely eaten a thing,” Iris said.

“I like keeping my svelte figure. If Hollywood calls asking me to fly in to try out for a part, I can’t look fat.”

“Hazel made a special dessert tonight,” Iris said, ignoring her response. “Your favorite.”