Tommy Lee laughed. "God, I'd forgotten about that. The old purse-on-the-string trick. Remember the time we pulled it on old man Mullins? I thought that old dude was gonna commit himself by the time he finally gave up."

"I wasn't with you when you duped old man Mullins. Once was enough for me, lying out in the weeds with the worms and snails and getting bitten up by insects, all for such nonsense."

Though their reminiscing had intrigued Beth, she took no part in the conversation, nor did she show any enthusiasm during the remainder of the day. They spent it at Tommy Lee's house, and though time and again Rachel tried to draw Beth out, she was unsuccessful. Beth's reticence remained between them, intractable.

By the time Tommy Lee drove Rachel back into town, she had a pounding headache. She sighed and fell back against the car seat.

"I don't think it worked," she said. "She's totally belligerent."

Tommy Lee drew on his cigarette, scowled and brooded. "Dammit, she was a rude little snot!"

Rachel reached over and brushed his arm. "We have to give her time to get used to me."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"It's not your fault. And don't give up yet. We'll try again."

"I just don't understand her!" He thumped the steering wheel. "How could she sit there scowling at you all day long? Didn't she realize how rude that was?"

"She was making her point, darling. I'm a threat to her or haven't you heard? Women of all ages are infamous for being possessive about their men. She'll get over it, but we have to be patient."

But Tommy Lee had wasted too many years to wax patient when the woman he loved had agreed to marry him and the greatest stumbling block seemed to be his petulant teenage daughter.

When he returned home and walked into his house it was as if a different personality had stepped into Beth's body. This one was smiling and gay and filled with chatter.

"Hi. Fixed us a snack-hot fudge sundaes with pecans. Should I scoop you out one now?"

He threw his car keys onto the table and swung to face her, suddenly upset with her constant attempts to win him over by playing the surrogate housewife. "I'm on a diet. I'll pass."

She stood in the middle of the room holding a dish of chocolate-covered ice cream, licking the back of the spoon. At his curt reply she looked up innocently. "Oh. Well… should I slice you some fruit then?"

"Beth, I don't need mothering, all right? And I have a housekeeper, so you don't need to constantly try to please me with all this… this domestic subterfuge! What I want you for is to be my daughter."

"Well!" she huffed. "I thought I was."

"Then start acting like one and stop acting like a jealous brat!"

Her face soured. "I can see she's been working on you."

"She has a name!" Tommy Lee's face reddened with anger and he hooked his thumbs on his hips. "It's Rachel, and I'd appreciate it if you'd afford her the common courtesy of using it when she's here! And the last thing in the world she'd think of doing is working on me, as you put it. She was totally willing to excuse your unforgivable rudeness to her today." He tapped his chest. "But I'm not!"

"When she's with you, you forget that I'm even in the room!"

"That's not true and you know it."

"Oh, isn't it? All day long the two of you blabbed on and on about all that junk from when you were kids and left me out."

"And what did you do when she asked you about your dancing, and about school? You grunted a one-word answer and turned a cold shoulder on her. How do you think that made her feel when she was trying her best to be friendly?"

Beth's face was a mask of hatred. "I will never be her friend. Never! Because she's the one… I know she's the one. I found that box of pictures and I know!"

Tommy Lee's brows curved into a frown. "What pictures? What are you talking about?"

She pointed to a distant spot in the house. "All those pictures of you and her, from the time you were babies, naked in a plastic wading pool, riding your tricycles together, and all the way up through high school. You've got more pictures of her than you do of Mother!"

"Beth, we grew up together. You knew that."

"Yes, I knew that." There were tears on Beth's cheeks now. "Mother told me there was someone in your past who made you go through three wives, but none of them could ever measure up to her. She didn't know who it was, but I do! And if it wasn't for your precious Rachel things would have turned out different for me. I'd have a… a mother and a father like other kids, and… and..."

Suddenly Beth threw her dish and spoon on the floor and spun from the room, sobbing.

"Beth, wait!"

"Go to your precious Rachel! Go!" she screamed, slamming up the stairs.

Tommy Lee's heart thundered as he stood in indecision. Should he go to Beth and allay her fears, assure her he'd never leave her as he had her mother? For that was her greatest fear, it was plain. Years of living with a single parent-and a bitter one at that-had left Beth insecure and grasping.

Tommy Lee sighed and dropped to a chair, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

Complications. The need for love, that all-powerful drive experienced by everyone-would it work against him all his life?

He considered going upstairs and telling Beth the entire story about Rachel and himself, but she was only fourteen years old. She had her whole sexual life ahead of her. A story like that might leave her with any number of false impressions-that he condoned sex at sixteen, that Rachel was a "bad girl" when she was young, that she was indeed responsible for Nancy's bitterness.

Lord, what went through the minds of fourteen-year-old girls? He didn't know. He'd never had one before. If he told her the whole truth, would it soften his daughter or add to the problem? And to tell it was to include, by necessity, his own estrangement from his parents. Surely she would question him about that. He had promised Rachel he'd make an attempt at reconciliation, but stepping up to that house, then inside it, after all these years, was going to be even more difficult than dealing with Beth.

Gentry, how did you get into this emotional mess?

Disconsolate, he held his head in both hands and stared at the floor between his feet. Then with a weary sigh he unfolded himself and went to clean up the bowl of ice cream. It had left a stain on the carpet, and he supposed he should have hauled Beth back to pick up the mess herself, instead of allowing her to throw a tantrum and get away with it.

How does a guy learn to be a father?

Hunkered down on one knee in the middle of the living-room floor, a dishcloth dangling from his fingers, he dropped his elbow and forehead onto the upraised knee and fought the urge to cry.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fall moved on with no perceptible changes in the attitudes of either Beth or Everett. In October Rachel listed her house with a realtor, believing the decisive move would force her father to accept the idea of her upcoming marriage, but he remained unyielding. The few times Rachel confronted Beth at Tommy Lee's house the girl was chilly and aloof, escaping to her room as soon as possible.

In November the realtor found a buyer for Rachel's house, and with that enormous obstacle overcome, she and Tommy Lee set the wedding date for the Saturday following Thanksgiving. But as the holiday approached, they still had not overcome the other obstacles that were casting shadows over their future together. And they both wanted very much to begin their married life without clouds hanging over their heads. They had done all they could to give the two time to accept the idea of their marriage, yet neither had.

And so, they agreed, it was time for an ultimatum.

The November wind was chilly, catching at Tommy Lee's trouser legs as he strode purposefully from his office, crossed Jackson Avenue, and covered the distance to the First State Bank of Russellville. He flung the door open, marched inside, and stopped before the receptionist, who looked up with a cheery smile.

"I want to see Everett Talmadge."

"If you'll have a seat over there, I'll ring him."

Tommy Lee was too agitated to have a seat. He stood, his feet widespread, before the receptionist's desk, eyes riveted on the glass cubicle that was clearly visible in the far corner of the bank. He saw Talmadge reach for his phone; then the receptionist spoke.

"There's someone here to see you." Talmadge appeared to be distractedly scanning something on his desk when the woman answered his unheard question. "It's Tommy Lee Gentry."

Talmadge's head came up with a jerk and his eyes met Gentry's across the width of the business floor. His lips moved again and the receptionist asked Tommy Lee, "What is this in regard to?"

Still staring at the bank president, Gentry replied, "Tell him I want to make a deposit."

The woman pivoted the mouthpiece below her chin. "But depos..."

"Just tell him!" Tommy Lee interrupted.

Obediently she brought the phone to her lips. "He says he'd like to make a deposit, sir."

Even from this distance, Tommy Lee could see the belligerent expression overtake Talmadge's face before his mouth worked again.

"Deposits are made at the teller windows, Mr. Gentry," came the relayed message.

"I'll make this one personally with the president," Tommy Lee informed her, then added impatiently, "Never mind. I can see he's not busy. I'll just go right in."