Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/106

 Carol's roots, planted deep, would be hard to change, he had thought … but I'll get him interested in oil … I'll get him interested … he's young … he'll change. Change? Why do I want him to change? What's wrong with me … I love him as he is … I don't care if he plays with dolls the rest of his life … but he won't … he's just young … let him play while he can. Life's not easy after you're grown … when I think about the way I used to hustle … about my childhood …

In the bloom of his manhood, he had come to Texas. Had gone to a country dance and met a girl named Carol Bender. That was over sixteen years ago. He was a stranger in need of a companion.

He was away from home and those he knew … but the dance and Carol Bender had suddenly changed all this. A good girl was a novelty in Le Claire's life. He had always gone with those who would give him the things he desired. Carol Bender had been different. He had been surprised to find her a virgin when she had finally given into his pleading. It had taken several weeks and he was almost ready to give up trying … then that one evening she had been pathetically eager for his affection. Her moods of gaiety and her lovely face got him and before he knew it, he was deeply in love with this country girl who plowed cotton fields and still retained a freshness, a desirable softness that had been lacking in other girls. The evening she told him she was pregnant, he was glad. What the hell. He was old enough and he loved her. It would be good to have a home and settle down. He'd never had a real home or love. Not the kind of love he could read in this girl's sparkling eyes.

So he had married her and immediately after the ceremony there had been a big reception at her house. Her parents had been very nice to him. So had all her friends.

All this was as clear in his thoughts as if it were happening again. Above all, it brought back one long-remembered buggy ride. He was a fresh married man again, sitting close to his bride, sitting there under the buggy's tasseled top, heading for the oil field and their new home. The day was warm and her cheek was soft and fragrant against him. "I don't care what kind of a house it is … I'll love it … I'll fix it up with curtains and maybe we can paper one or two rooms," 96