“I thought I’d take the weekend and come visit some old friends.”
“So why are you here?” The question was out before
“Aren’t you charming?” Julia’s tone made it clear that she thought he was
anything but charming. She noticed Precocious. “And who’s this?”
Before
Julia gave Precocious a once-over most people reserved for judging show dogs.
“Julia Madeline Patteron.” She did not shake Precocious’s hand.
“Any relation to the Patterson family that has the chain of feed stores?”
Precocious put her hand down as if she hadn’t just been ever so politely
snubbed.
“My grandfather started the Patterson feed stores.”
“I worked on a farm for a couple of summers. I did a lot of pick ups at the
Patterson store for my boss. The general manager there was the nicest guy,
always helped me toss the feed bags into the back of the truck.” Precocious
smiled at Julia. “Would that be anyone in your family?”
Julia couldn’t quite figure out how this *girl* in front of her couldn’t take
the hint that she wasn’t welcome. “That would be my father.” She clipped the
ends of the words and took the temperature of her tone down another few
degrees.”
“Really? I must tell him that the very nice manners he showed me weren’t ever
picked up by his holier-than-thou daughter.” Precocious put a hand on Tyler’s
arm and gave him a quick smile. “Excuse me, I need to find Linda, make sure
she’s not freaking out.” She slid between Julia and Tyler and headed towards
the back of the gallery.
Julia looked thoroughly appalled at the whole interaction. “You’re keeping
cheaper company these days, Tyler.”
“She’s not cheap, and she’s certainly better bred in social manners than you
are.” Tyler took a step away from Julia just to be sure she was out of choking
range. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my parents.”
“You haven’t talked to your parents in ten years. Try again.” Tyler’s voice was
tightly controlled. He’d expected the unexpected from the evening, but the
appearance of Julia hadn’t been anywhere *near* the list.
“It’s tourist season. I’m a tourist.”
“Tourists are non-natives to the area-“
“Then I’m *visiting* my old haunts.”
“Starting with me. How lucky.” Tyler was tempted to spit in her drink, but he
managed to hold himself back. He moved to walk around her and find a corner
where she couldn’t follow, but she stepped in front of him as he shifted his
weight and blocked his means of escape.
“Aren’t you a little old to be charming high school girls?”
“Aren’t you a little stupid to be pretending like you know what’s going on in a
gallery show?”
Julia clutched her wine glass so tightly her knuckles turned white. She glared
hard at Tyler, some part of her registering that it didn’t have the same effect
on him that it had once had. “You’re a child.”
“At least I don’t have to fuck around to get all the pretty, shiny jewelry I want.”
“At least I date people my own age.”
Tyler scoffed. “You don’t date, you hunt.” He pressed his hand against her
shoulder with just enough pressure to get her to move. “I have to go find my
date.”
“Check the day care center down the street.”
“Burn in fucking hell.” Tyler moved away from Julia as quickly as possible and
headed for the table piled high with appetizers and desserts. He surveyed the
selection before grabbing a slice of peach cobbler and a fork.
“Comfort food?” Precocious had her own slice of pie on a plate. “Mind if I ask
who that was?” She spoke like she was asking the time.
Tyler cut into his pie and took a bite before answering. “That would be the
reason I don’t live in San Francisco anymore.”
“Oh, so she’s *that* Julia. She’s charming, you know.” Precocious saw the
disbelieving look that Tyler gave her. “Charming like a rabid pit bull who’s
getting poked with a sharp stick, but still, it’s a type of charm.”
Tyler laughed harder than was strictly necessary for the line, but he was a
little wound up at having run into Julia, and it felt good to get some of the
tension out. “Thank you.”
Precocious smiled sunnily. “You’re welcome.”
“How’s Linda holding up?”
“Freaking out as usual. She does it every show.” Precocious took a bite of her
pie and made an approving sound. “Nothing beats homemade pie.”
“This is homemade?” Tyler was surprised. He’d been to a few shows at galleries
in San Francisco, and they’d always been catered. “People make *pie* for
gallery shows here?”
“You act like basic neighborly tendencies should have changed since you’ve been
gone.” Precocious finished her pie and set her plate on an empty table. “You
haven’t been gone that long.”
“Eight years is plenty of time for a town to have a nice, solid downward spiral.”
“You’re seriously telling me that you could see Hugoton having a downward
spiral?”
“Well,” Tyler was tempted to disagree just for the hell of it, but he decided
not to, “no, but still, homemade pie is a little…” He wasn’t sure what world he
was looking for.
“Special.”
“I guess it’s as good a word as any.” Tyler gave Precocious a smile. “Thank you
for not getting upset by her. She’s…trying.”
“You hate her.” Precocious spoke with certainty.
“Possibly.”
“People like that, they’ll always be like that. I can’t ever come up with a
good reason to bother with them when I know they’ll find a way to turn it
around and make it about my lack of manners or breeding.” Precocious watched as
Tyler stared at her in disbelief. “What?”
“I think…” He couldn’t believe how easily she’d hit the whole thing right on
the head. It had taken him *years* to learn how truly fucked in the head Julia
was, he was about to go into shock. “How could you read her so easily?”
“It’s a gift, honestly. I learned it from my mother. When people assume you’re
some sort of backwards family because your mother is a hippie, they *always*
act like they got the better end of the deal because they live in the same
house in the same town year after year. You learn how to tell those people from
the ones who are actually decent but a little uneasy because ‘hippie’ isn’t a
word they’ve heard with any positive connotations.” Precocious shrugged. “It’s
all about perspective.”
“Is there anything you *don’t* see in perspective?”
“Sure.” She didn’t elaborate.
Tyler wanted her to elaborate, but before he could, there was a squeal of
feedback that pulled everyone’s attention to the far corner of the room between
two windows. A well-dressed woman in a dark blue business suit was standing at
the microphone and waiting for everyone to quiet down.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the unveiling of a new collection of work by
Linda Sexton.” The woman paused for applause. “For those of you who may not
know me, I am Tonya Carter, and I own this gallery. I’ve had the pleasure of
displaying Linda’s work for a number of years, and I truly believe that we have
another collection of beautiful, one-of-a-kind pieces on our hands.” There was
another round of applause and Tonya Carter held her hands up to staunch it. “Before
we get overjoyed at the mere prospect of more art from Linda, I’d like her to
step up and say a few words herself. Linda?” Tonya Carter gestured to the left
of the stage and smiled pleasantly as Linda walked up the stairs. “Linda
Sexton, ladies and gentlemen.”
Tyler couldn’t believe that the woman on the stage was, in fact, Linda. She was
wearing a crimson dress, cut low at the neck and high on the thigh. She’d
paired it with crimson shoes, a collection of sparkly bangles, and her very
purple hair had been tamed into a neat, but slightly loose French braid. “I
didn’t think she owned anything but overalls.”
“It’s a popular theory.” Precocious smiled over at Tyler and slipped her arm
through his. “If you look close, you can probably still see some paint on her.”