Redemption Mountain (31 page)

“And the reason he's just sitting there is because he's afraid to call his daddy to come pick him up. So I says to Buck, ‘Well, I got some beer in the car if you want to drive around a little, and then
I
can take you home,' and Buck perks up and says, ‘Sure, we could do that,' 'cause I'm sure that driving around, drinking beer with little Miss No-tits still sounded a hell of a lot better than waiting for an ass whuppin' from his old man.” Charlie laughed.

“I run back over to the Roadhouse and tell my girlfriend that I got to take her car and the beer, and she's going to have to find a ride home from somebody, 'cause this is like the biggest break I ever got in life.” Natty laughed. “And I don't even have a license.
Hell
, I never even drove a car before. But I pick up Buck, and my heart's beatin' like a damn drum. I'm nervous and grinding the gears, driving down the middle of the road with the headlights off, 'cause I don't know where the switch is. But I'm acting real cool, you know, and Buck's laughing and drinking beer and yelling about how I'm the worst driver he's ever seen.”

The smile faded from Natty's face as she picked absentmindedly at one of her running shoes. “Anyway, we end up at this spot way back in the woods, and then one thing led to another…” Natty's voice trailed off.

“Then we're in the backseat, and the moment came, you know, to shit or get off the pot, so to speak, and I didn't even hesitate. I was scared to death, 'cause I never done anything like that before. Hell, I never even
kissed
a boy before that night. But I went ahead, 'cause I knew if I didn't I'd never see Buck Oakes again.”

Natty was speaking again in a soft voice, almost to herself. “I'm glad I did. Everything worked out fine.” After a long pause, she turned back toward Charlie. “Buck was right, his daddy was rip-shit about football. He stayed pissed at Buck for a long time. I always figured that had a lot to do with why Buck, uh … that he made Buck … Well, it don't matter now.” Natty smiled at Charlie. “Everything worked out fine. Got married. Had Pie and Cat—wouldn't trade them for anything. So … yeah, worked out good.” She glanced at her watch. “I got to get going,” she said, quickly getting to her feet.

Charlie did the same. She was right. It was getting late and they'd sat for too long, although he could listen to Natty talk forever.

Back in the middle of the grotto formed by the tall pines, Natty stopped. “Look,” she said, pointing up to the shafts of morning sunlight that penetrated the high branches. “It's just like a church, with the light coming through the stained-glass windows.”

“Wow,” said Charlie softly. “It's beautiful.” When he looked back down, Natty was facing him, about ten feet away. Charlie could see she was anxious, twisting her fingers together in front of her. “What is it,
Mrs. Oakes
?” he added, trying to ease her tension.

She let out a sigh. “Charlie, there's something I need to know,” she said quietly. “Something I need to get out of the way, 'cause I don't know much about this stuff … ain't met many men in my life, as you probably already figured out. But I need to ask you something personal, which I figure is all right, since I just told
you
all about the first time I ever got laid and a whole bunch of other intimate stuff.” They both laughed.

“Sure,” said Charlie, leaning against the trunk of a hickory tree.

Natty flashed an embarrassed smile. “Charlie … is there anything, um, happening here?” She waggled her index finger back and forth between them.

“You mean—”

Natty interrupted him. “Yeah,” she said, “between us.”

Charlie smiled. “Natty, come on. I'm old enough to be your father.”

She eyed him warily. “Hell, around here, man your age could about be my
grandpa
, but that ain't what I asked you.”

Charlie immediately regretted his shallow reply. It was obvious that Natty was serious, and deserved an honest answer.
But what should he tell her? Should he tell her that she was the most alluring woman he'd met in years? As well as the kindest, most unpretentious, and emotionally honest? Should he tell her that he'd never known a woman who could make him smile at the thought of her, even when she wasn't around?

“I don't mean to embarrass you, Charlie,” Natty said.

“No, no,” said Charlie. “It isn't—”

“But, you've been real special to Pie.
God
, that boy loves you—”

Should he tell her that he loved her small delicate face, and her beautiful eyes, and her smile, and tell her how badly he wanted to put his palm against her cheek at that moment, and touch her soft lips?

“—and there ain't no man ever been as kind to me as you have, letting me have your car for that week, helping us with Redemption Mountain, and now getting the library fixed, and…” She shrugged. “Just talking to me like you do.”

And how much he enjoys listening to her voice, and how his heart beats faster whenever he sees her—and that he longed to run his hands around her small waist?

“'Course, I never met anyone from New York before, so I'm thinking maybe it's all
professional courtesy
, 'cause probably that's why you're down here, to be nice to people and—”

Should he warn her that he was just two steps away from pulling her against him and never letting her go?

“But then, like that day you came back from New York, and I watched you down on the soccer field with Pie, giving him that nice hug. And I saw the way you looked up the hill at me; it seemed like, you know, maybe you were thinkin' about … and then that night we sat in front of the store and talked about Redemption Mountain.” Natty's voice grew soft. “And you said my name.”

Charlie smiled, trying to mask his own nervousness. “Natty, since that morning in the store…” He hesitated, to collect his thoughts, then started again. “Since that morning I first met you, I've been thinking about you every minute of every day.”

“What?”
she blurted.

Charlie laughed. “I said—”

“No, I'm sorry, Charlie,” Natty said. “I heard you. I just … I guess I wasn't ready to hear you say
that
.” Natty turned away from him. “
Damn, Charlie
,” she whispered, “nobody's
ever
said something like that to me.” Natty folded her arms together in front of her and started moving around in small circles. Her shoulders were hunched up as if she were getting cold.

Charlie's heart was beating crazily. He hadn't said anything affectionate to a woman other than Ellen since he was in college. “Listen, Natty, I … I, uh … in twenty-six years of marriage I never even thought about another woman, until I met you.” Natty turned slightly toward him, listening. “And now I hardly think about anything else,” he added. Natty shut her eyes tightly as if she were in pain.

“Are you all right?” Charlie asked. She nodded, with her eyes still closed. “I love my wife, Nat,” Charlie went on. “She's a wonderful woman. But we've had some problems the last few years, and I don't know how they're going to work out.

“We've changed a lot, Ellen and I. Since the kids grew up. You know, you invest so much of yourself in your children, then all of a sudden they're gone.” Charlie paused. “Things changed for both of us. Your career changes. It's why I came down here—to get away from what my job had turned into. To get away from … a lot of things. And to do something constructive. I needed to build something, to be an engineer again.” Charlie rocked on the balls of his feet. “I'm not sure what all that means, except that I'm not as certain about things as I used to be. I'm still married, though, and I've never done anything I couldn't talk to my wife about.”

“
Oooh, Charlie
,” Natty groaned, bending over.

“Natty, what's the matter?” he asked, as she expelled a violent stream of orange-colored vomit, scoring a direct hit on one of Charlie's new Asics running shoes. He hopped back quickly, but the damage was done. Natty stayed bent over with her hands on her knees, spitting out the residue of her Special K and orange juice breakfast.

Charlie ignored the mess and leaned over to see Natty's face. “Natty, you okay? What happened?” He resisted the impulse to put his hand on her back and felt helpless as she remained bent over. After a few moments, she raised a hand to him, indicating that she was all right. She wiped her mouth with the bottom of her jersey, then slowly straightened up.

Natty looked at Charlie and smiled weakly. “So, I guess you won't be trying to kiss me this morning,” she said. They both laughed.

“Oh,
shit
, Charlie,” Natty said. “Look at your shoe. What a mess. I'm sorry, Charlie.”

“It's okay, really. You sure you're all right?”

“I'm okay,” she said. “C'mon, let's go,” she added, motioning toward the path down to the running trail. “I'm going to be late for work.”

After a few yards on the trail, Natty looked at her watch again and started a slow jog. She could feel Charlie's eyes on her back, and for the first time she felt self-conscious. Before, they'd just been friends, but now that had all changed.
Goddammit! What was wrong with her? Taking him up to the boulder and telling him all that stuff. How much more trouble did she need in life? Then, the first time a man says something nice to her, she pukes on his foot!
Natty shook her head in disgust and ran a little harder.

When the trail entered the woods, Natty slowed, then walked a few yards to catch her breath. She came to a stop and waited for Charlie, who had fallen behind. Natty thought about what Charlie had said up in the trees. She'd asked him a very personal question, and he'd given her an answer—a beautiful, honest answer that scared her to death, an answer that she would replay in her mind for the rest of her life. It wasn't fair to Charlie to throw up on his shoe and run off without answering the same question. If she could.

Charlie slowed to a walk as he reached the edge of the woods and saw Natty waiting for him. “You okay?” Charlie asked. The sound of his voice was amplified by the acoustics of the woods.

“I'm fine,” said Natty sheepishly, looking down at Charlie's fouled shoe. “Sorry about your sneaker.” Charlie just smiled. After a moment of silence, Natty spoke again. “Got sick 'cause I got scared. Hearing you say the words—that was different from, you know, sitting on the rock thinking foolish
girl things.
All of a sudden it wasn't pretend anymore.” She had a pained look on her face. “For as long as I can remember, the only man I ever thought about was Buck.” Almost to herself, she added, “And Buck's the only man ever showed any interest in me. Then you come down here, and next thing you know, you're telling me that … you know, what you said up there.”

“Ah, I was making all that up,” Charlie said.

Natty smiled back at him. “Yeah, thanks,” she said. After a few moments, Natty began again. “Listen, Charlie, I need to … I want you to understand what—”

“Natty, you don't need to explain anything,” Charlie interrupted. “We can just leave it like it is for now, and—”

“No. It's important to me for you to understand this.”

Charlie sat on the edge of an old stump that had been cut about two feet from the ground.

“Charlie, what I said up there, about marrying Buck and everything working out all right, that ain't exactly true. Actually, it's pretty much all bullshit. Fact is, it's been a pretty sorry twelve years, except for the kids. But living with Buck—that ain't been easy.” Natty stared at her hands and debated how much Charlie Burden needed or even wanted to hear.

Should she tell him about the maddening silence, the surliness? Or how Buck ignored her and the kids most of the time? About the mean, drunken nights, and, the slaps, and the beating two years ago—the day the helicopters came—when she first saw Charlie Burden and Duncan McCord? Or about the time Buck moved in with the woman from Northfork right after Cat was born? Charlie would have a tough time understanding all that. That was between her and Buck.

So were the tears. Buck's tears, which nobody else ever saw. When he'd bury his head against her breast and let go of the anguish of one more failure, one more disappointment that had defined his adult life after so much unbridled success in his youth. Only Natty shared those moments with him. Charlie Burden didn't need to hear any of that stuff. She didn't want him to pity her or Buck.

Charlie watched as she seemed to struggle with a difficult thought. “I'm not ready to give up on Buck just yet,” she said. “I been working at this for twelve years now, trying to make a home, make a marriage.” She looked at Charlie with an embarrassed smile. “Trying to get Buck to love me, love his kids. Thing is, Buck's had one bad time after another. Mostly his own fault, but not all of it.” Natty paused for a moment before adding, “I was part of it, too. Part of his bad breaks.”

Charlie started to protest but decided to remain silent.

“The college-football thing, well, that was the start of it. Then he comes home and, next thing you know, he knocks up this dumb little hillbilly girl and finds himself getting married when he don't want to and, not too long after that, having a baby he don't want. Then, to top it off, it's a baby with a funny-lookin' head.” Natty stared down at the ground and moved a rock around absentmindedly with her toe. “Buck was just twenty years old then. Still a kid himself. Wasn't fair to him. Wasn't the way it should've been.”

Natty shook her head as she recalled the missteps in her husband's attempts to make a living in a terminally depressed economy. She told Charlie about the ill-fated hunting lodge; the worm farm that ended with thousands of dollars' worth of dead worms; Buck's brief, misguided career selling insurance for the Loftus Agency, before being fired by the insufferable Kyle Loftus; and then the expensive foray into long-haul trucking, which would continue to drain their finances many years into the future. She omitted the dozen or so short-term jobs, some that ended badly due to Buck's drinking or volatile personality.