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Coming Home to Texas Page 12


  “Your mother? Why?”

  “My mother was an actress in the sixties. She wasn’t extremely well known, but you might have seen her in some old movies and television shows. She was on one of the last episodes of the original Star Trek series. Her stage name was Shonda Malloy.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard of her. What was her real name?”

  “Rhonda Malkovitz from Scranton, Pennsylvania.” Travis shook his head. “Hers was a typical Hollywood story. She’d been in several high school productions and did some local theater. Everyone said how wonderfully talented and beautiful she was, so she went to Hollywood to become the next Marilyn Monroe or Grace Kelly.”

  “So I take it what was extraordinary in Scranton wasn’t as special in Hollywood?”

  “Right. She did get work, although sometimes when she talks about the early years, I wonder exactly what she had to do to get roles. What kind of jobs she had to take to make ends meet between casting calls.”

  “There are still a lot of young women like that, not only in Hollywood, but in New York. The typical waitress-slash-actress or waitress-slash-model. I’ve met quite a few in my years.”

  “Oh, like you’re so old,” he teased, relieved to be talking about something other than his mother’s unhappy early years.

  “Well, no, but I am a veteran. I’ve been modeling since I was sixteen, although at the time I was trying to be much smaller. I got some jobs as a size eight, but even as a teenager, I was five feet, ten inches and pushing a hundred and fifty pounds.”

  “That doesn’t seem like too much for being that tall.”

  “Not in the real world, but in modeling, it’s way too fat.”

  “You’re not fat. You’re…substantial. Like a well-built house. Skinny women, especially ones who have had plastic surgery, are like flimsy tract houses. The fake stucco might look good for a while, but doesn’t last.”

  “Gee, thanks again, I think,” she said with a quirky smile. “I’m glad to know my stucco will hold up over time.”

  “I suppose comparing you to a structure isn’t all that romantic.”

  “That’s okay, I think I see your point. Being married to an architect is a new experience.” She took a sip of her coffee. “So, back to your mother. I take it she didn’t make a career being a Hollywood actress.”

  “No, she met my father when he was in Los Angeles. He’d decided to invest some of his oil profits in a film a friend of his was developing. He and my mother were introduced by mutual friends—”

  “Much like we were,” Jodie commented.

  “Yes, except we were more…equal. She was struggling to make it and he offered her wealth and prestige. They were married shortly thereafter in Midland, Texas, which was his hometown.” Travis shook his head, remembering the crying, the threats and the anger that had permeated his childhood. “She hated it there.”

  “Not exactly Hollywood, I take it.”

  “No, far from it. Midland and Odessa are two oil towns located in West Texas. The land is flat and the people are very down to earth. The novelty of a Hollywood actress marrying an oil baron soon wore off.” His mother had expected adoration and deference, which he later realized came from deep-seated insecurity. Jodie, on the other hand, was the least insecure person he knew.

  “By then she was pregnant with me, though, so she was stuck.”

  “I’m sorry she felt that way. Where is your mother living now?”

  “Palm Springs, looking for husband number three.”

  “And you said your life wasn’t interesting.”

  He smiled in reply. “I haven’t even gotten to my father yet.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s unhappily married to a trophy wife who wants to look as though she’s twenty-nine forever.”

  “How sad.”

  “For my father, too. He has to foot the bills.”

  “Oh, Travis, surely you see there’s more to it than that. Any woman who worries so much about looking older probably has low self-esteem.”

  “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one,” he said.

  “Okay, I’ll compromise by waiting until I meet her to form my final opinion. That is, if I ever do meet her.”

  “Of course you’ll meet her. We can’t avoid them forever.”

  “Travis Whitaker, you have a cynical nature I never really appreciated before.”

  “I’m glad you’re seeing some of my good qualities for a change,” he joked.

  He paid the restaurant tab, then took Jodie’s hand as they made their way down the stone steps to the walk. In February, in the middle of the afternoon, there weren’t nearly as many people as there were during the weekends in the spring, summer or fall. They didn’t get jostled as they strolled beside each other. Walking side by side, holding hands with his wife, was rather nice, Travis thought.

  “This time next year, we’ll be pushing one of those monster baby strollers,” he said as they walked past an Irish pub that had been a fixture on the Riverwalk for years.

  “Ugh! And here I am always complaining about those things when I’m out shopping. They take up an entire aisle.”

  “Yes, but I imagine they’re very convenient for hauling around all the baby’s stuff.”

  “I suppose,” she sighed.

  Travis felt surprised that Jodie wasn’t more excited about the baby trappings. Didn’t women ooh and ahh over cute little clothes and gadgets? He’d seen that often enough in his sister Kate. He’d had the misfortune of arriving at her house during a baby shower for Eddie. He nearly shuddered at the memory of all those women squealing over the remnants of pink-, blue- and yellow-wrapped packages. The living room looked as though a Hallmark store had exploded.

  “So,” he said, taking advantage of the quiet camaraderie to expand on the idea of the baby, “I thought you might want to call Robin Parker to talk about decorating one of the guest rooms for a nursery.”

  “I suppose. She’s certainly convenient.”

  “And she does nice work. She’s also from Houston. Her family is wealthy, from what I’ve heard, and she had a bit of culture shock when she came to Ranger Springs. You two probably have a lot in common.”

  “Maybe.”

  Travis felt his frustration growing. Jodie hadn’t jumped on the idea of the baby things or decorating. What would get her excited about the pregnancy and moving to his home?

  “Robin did a great job decorating Bretford House for our wedding.”

  “Yes, she did, and on such short notice. I don’t know how she pulled that off,” Jodie commented as she looked up at the trees and architecture along the Riverwalk.

  “Ethan said she uses things that are already there or that are important to the client.” He paused, stopping beneath one of the arched stone bridges, and gathered both her hands in his. “That’s why it’s important to pick out a room you like. Or you may even have some things from your childhood that could inspire a theme or a color scheme. Maybe you’ll discover a theme after your things arrive from California.”

  “I’ll think about it, Travis. We have months before we need to have a room ready.”

  He looked deep into her eyes. “What if the baby comes early or you have some problems where you don’t feel like working with a decorator? We might not have as much time as you’d think.”

  She looked at him with fondness, but also patient skepticism. “Nothing is going to happen to me. And I doubt this baby is coming early. If anything, as a first pregnancy it may be late.”

  He felt like frowning, but tried very hard to keep his expression neutral as they once again strolled along the walkway. “Still, I’d rather get the process going.”

  “We agreed not to tell anyone about the baby.”

  “You can trust Robin. She’s like a lawyer or a doctor—professional privilege. Plus, her husband is the law.”

  Jodie sighed. “I’ll talk to Robin, but I’m sure we have plenty of time.”

  “I hope you’re
right. I want everything to go smoothly.” They walked out of the shadows of the bridge into the late winter sunshine.

  “I come from a long line of very healthy women who deliver babies with no problems. I’ll be fine.”

  Travis pushed aside his doubts as the sun filtered down through the canopy of trees and fell on Jodie’s blond hair. “Tell me more about this family of Amazons,” he said as he took her hand and once more started walking.

  THE AFTERNOON in San Antonio passed quickly as they talked about their families and soon it was time for dinner. Travis knew a good Tex-Mex restaurant and suggested they stop there on the way back to Ranger Springs.

  “Fine with me,” Jodie said. “I love Mexican food.”

  Travis ordered a light beer and Jodie tried one of the nonalcoholic brews. After a few sips with her nachos, she pushed it aside.

  “It just doesn’t taste the same,” she said. Travis ordered her a virgin margarita.

  She sipped it, but didn’t finish it, either. “It’s not the same without tequila,” she told him.

  Finally the waitress brought her some iced tea. By then their fajitas had been served and they began to eat their dinner.

  But later, just when Travis was thinking they might have a very enjoyable evening, Jodie said she wasn’t feeling well.

  “I don’t think nonalcoholic beer and margaritas mix well with Tex-Mex food,” she complained on the drive home.

  “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

  Jodie rubbed her stomach. “I think I’m going to add a sensitive digestive system to my list of pregnancy complaints.”

  “Is the list really that long?”

  “No!” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Some heartburn and the need for afternoon naps is a small price to pay for a baby, right?”

  Travis hoped she felt the same when her pregnancy started to show—and slowed down her career.

  “THAT WASN’T SO BAD,” Jodie said to Travis as they waved goodbye to the reporters. Neil was going to answer any lingering questions, then join them for lunch at the Four Square Café.

  “Not too bad,” Travis agreed. “I wouldn’t want to do it all the time, though.”

  “I’m not really a celebrity. I’m pretty sure we won’t be bothered again. It’s a slow news time and a surprise wedding is always fodder for some papers and magazines.”

  “The photos of the wedding your guy from New York took turned out well,” he said.

  “Yes, they did. I’m having some made and framed of my mother and sister. Those were really good, also.” Jodie decided that she’d get some of the wedding photos framed for his mother, father and sister as a surprise, since his family hadn’t been able to come to the ceremony.

  “Your mother is nice,” he said. “I’m glad I got to meet her.”

  “And my sister?”

  “Like I mentioned, she’s different. Much more…well, not nearly as serious or career-oriented as you and your mother.” He looked away, off into the distance…or the past. “My mother was career-oriented, also. She resented her family for taking her away from success.”

  “It’s easy to blame someone else when things don’t work out like we expect them to.”

  “True.” He stopped on the covered sidewalk and faced her, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Jodie, you don’t think you’ll ever resent our baby for interfering with your career, do you?”

  “No! Besides, the baby isn’t keeping me from anything. This is the twenty-first century,” she said, feeling as though Travis needed teasing. “I can have it all.” She tugged him toward the café. Travis was just too conservative.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Although she was sure Travis wasn’t always overbearing, she could tell he liked to be in charge. He had confidence that he knew what was best and took action to force his agenda. That was fine in business, but it could make a marriage a bit difficult.

  The bell over the door tinkled gaily, announcing their arrival at the café. The quaint restaurant was busy with the lunch crowd, including many of the people Jodie had met last week. The smell of fried, grilled and baked food filled the air. Charlene Jacks approached them with two menus.

  “Hello! How are our newest newlyweds today?”

  “Just fine, Charlene,” Travis said. “We’ve been talking to those reporters who wanted the dish on our wedding.”

  Charlene chuckled. “They’ve been good for business. First we had a little betting pool going on what they wanted, but Thelma set us straight on that. Then we wondered if the two of you were going to cooperate.”

  “Jodie said the best way to get rid of them was to accommodate them, and she was right.”

  “Every time Alexi, Kerry and little Alex come to visit, we get a few of those European paparazzi. They’re worse than the American press.”

  Fortunately, Jodie thought, they hadn’t been following her the weekend she’d met Travis in Monte Carlo. If they’d been peeking into the room, they would have gotten a lensful of adults-only photos. The memories brought a warm flush to her skin.

  “Is this booth okay?” Charlene asked, placing their menus down on a Formica-topped table in the back corner. With no one sitting next to them, they’d be able to talk in private.

  “Fine. Jodie’s publicist is going to be joining us. You might remember Neil,” Travis said, sliding into the red vinyl seat, as if he knew Charlene would remember the rather flamboyant L.A. man.

  Charlene raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yes. I’ll show him back as soon as he gets here. In the meantime, do you want iced tea? Coffee?”

  “Do you have some herbal tea?” Jodie asked. She didn’t want to drink too much caffeine while she was pregnant. Despite the bright sunshine and moderate temperatures, the wind had a bit of a chill and hot tea would be good.

  Her cheeks were probably pink and her hair wind-blown. She hoped that translated well in the photos taken today, since she knew she could just as easily look ruddy and stringy. Every time an unflattering photo of her appeared in the press, she felt her value as a model and a spokesperson decrease.

  “I’ll bring you some tea bags and a pot of hot water,” Charlene said.

  “When are you going to quit waiting tables?” Travis asked. He turned to Jodie. “Despite having two daughters married to millionaires, she won’t stop working here at the café.”

  “Well, I have changed my job a little, Travis. I haven’t let many people know, but my two daughters got together and bought the café for me as a fiftieth birthday present. I’m not just the most senior employee anymore, I’m the boss.”

  “Congratulations, Charlene. I know you love the place.”

  “I do. I can’t see myself sitting around doing nothing, even though both girls have offered to support me if I wanted to retire early. But heck, I’m too young to retire.”

  “Of course you are,” Travis agreed.

  “I’ll get your hot tea, Jodie, and your iced tea, Travis,” she said, then walked into the back.

  “You really are happy for her, aren’t you?” Jodie asked. Travis had that kind of pleasant, contemplative look he sometimes wore when talking to or about his friends and neighbors.

  “Of course. Charlene is a very nice lady. She had a tough life when the girls were young, I’ve been told, but all three of her daughters turned out well.”

  “I’m sure they did.” Jodie leaned forward. “Thank you again for posing with me and talking to the reporters. I know that’s not what you like, but you did a wonderful job.”

  “Thanks. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined.”

  “They weren’t out for blood, or even real gossip. You can usually tell because if they’re going to ambush you, they start pulling out ‘facts’ and ‘quotes’ that you’ve never heard before.”

  “I’ll try to remember that, although I hope I won’t be in that situation often.”

  Charlene returned with their drinks then left to serve another customer.

  Jodi
e chose a tea bag and started brewing a lemon and mint flavor.

  “Jodie, something’s been bothering me, and since we are married, I thought I should bring it up.”

  “What is it?”

  “While you were gone to California, I wondered why you didn’t suggest I go with you. Was it because we argued about your plans to return for the meetings or was there another reason?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jodie bobbed her tea bag in water and tried to remember if she’d even considered inviting Travis to come with her. She hadn’t. She shook her head. “I’m obviously not very good at being married. Honestly, it never crossed my mind that you’d want to come to L.A. with me.”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t think of it, either, until you were already gone.”

  “But when you did, it made you angry?”

  “No, not angry. More like…disappointed.”

  “Then I suppose there’s hope for us yet, because if we want to be together, that’s half the battle.”

  Travis smiled. “Oh, I want to be together with you. If you’d like, I can show you just how much later.”

  Jodie felt her skin heat and her breath catch. Just as she was thinking about snuggling into his bed, the bell over the door tinkled again. Neil bustled through the restaurant, making a beeline for their booth.

  Neil sat beside Travis, his eyes alight. “You totally impressed them, Jodie. Oh, and you, too, Travis. They think you are the most ideal newlyweds since…hmm, no, they didn’t stay married. Oh, well, it doesn’t matter,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure the articles will be flattering. Of course they want more, but I explained that they need to respect your privacy for now, since you’re on your honeymoon.”

  “Yes, we are,” she replied neutrally, thinking of the fiasco of the trip to the cabin and the time they’d spent apart while she was in California.

  “I hope we don’t have to do this often,” Travis said.

  “You won’t. The press just thinks it’s romantic, the way you were introduced by royalty in Europe and then ran off and got married a month later.”