And then there was Dallas, sitting beside his wife, looking uncomfortable and vaguely irritated by the goings-on. Winona watched him from beneath lowered lashes. His long hair and pale blue shirt didn’t soften him at all; quite the contrary. Getting dressed up only made him look more dangerous.
If Winona could have thought of a way to reveal this truth, she would have, but Dallas was smart. He didn’t push his way into things; he didn’t demand his share. He waited on the sidelines, pretending to be willing to work for whatever he got. The cowboys had accepted him and the women in town had begun lately to talk about the “great love” of Vivi Ann and Dallas. Even Aurora refused to hear about his criminal past and told Winona to let it go.
Vivi Ann clinked her fork against her wineglass, drawing everyone’s attention.
Winona looked down the table toward her sister, as she was supposed to, and several facts registered, clicked into place like the firing sequence in a handgun: Vivi Ann was even more beautiful than usual, radiant, even, and she was drinking water.
“We’re pregnant,” Vivi Ann said, and her smile lit up the room.
Winona experienced the announcement in a strange, slowed-down way, as if she were underwater or behind a wall comprised of wavy glass block. She saw everyone except her father leap to congratulate Vivi Ann; she heard the squeals and cries, saw Aurora hug Vivi Ann and start to cry.
Winona knew she needed to move, to join in, but she couldn’t. She just sat there. Once, when she was little, she’d tried barrel racing. Bathed in the rare glow of her dad’s encouragement, she’d climbed onto Clem’s big back and kicked hard. She’d barely hung on around the first barrel, and on the second she’d lost her grip. She still remembered how that felt: the letting go, the sliding sideways in the saddle, losing her stirrup. For a second before she’d fallen, she’d known it was coming, and the fear of that moment was how she felt. From now on, no matter what, Dallas would be a part of this family. The cancer of his presence had just metastasized.
She glanced sideways and found Dallas looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and lifted her wineglass in a toast. “Here’s to Vivi Ann . . . who now will have a baby . . .” Too. She tried not to think about her own loneliness, but it was impossible to ignore. Here she was, the oldest sister and the only one unmarried and childless.
After that, the evening passed for Winona like a movie without sound. She did all the things that were expected of her—she cleared the table and washed the dishes with her sisters, she put on their favorite Elvis Christmas album and danced in the kitchen, she read “The Night Before Christmas” to her niece and nephew—but none of it felt real.
“You’re not very good at pretending to be happy.”
Winona hadn’t even heard him approach. It seemed that sneaking up on people was a particular skill of his. She turned slightly, found Dallas beside her, sipping his beer. “I’ve never been good at pretending to be anything,” she answered. “And you don’t fool me for a second. I’ve seen your record.”
“She’s happy, you know,” he said.
“What about you? I wouldn’t peg you as the daddy type.”
“You don’t care how I feel about anything.”
It was a relief to be understood, not to have to pretend. “You’re right.”
“And why is that?”
“This family was happy before you got here.”
Dallas glanced around the room; his gaze stopped on Aurora and Richard arguing quietly by the tree, and then moved on to Dad, who was well into his third bourbon and staring at an old picture of Mom. “Was it?” he asked. “So you were happy that Vivi was dating your boyfriend.”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend.”
Dallas gave her a knowing smile. “That was the problem all along, wasn’t it?”
“Fuck you.”
He laughed. “Is that a traditional holiday greeting?”
She pushed past him and walked away. For the rest of the evening, she tried to be her old self, surrounded by the people she loved, but he was always there, on the fringes, watching them, watching her.
Winona counted the days until Luke returned from his Montana vacation. They had spoken on the phone on Christmas Day, and he’d sounded better. Finally. Their friendship still felt fragile these days, not quite healed, but Winona was trying to be patient. He needed time, that was all. He’d come around. For Luke, she would be patient.
The evening he got home, she made a date for them to go see a movie.
In these winter months night came early, so that by the time she left work, got dressed, and drove to his house it was already dark out. When he opened the door, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He eased out of her embrace and led her into the living room, where a fire glowed in the hearth and Christmas lights still twinkled on the tree she’d helped him decorate. While she sat down, he went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of wine.
“Booze. Thank God,” she said, taking her glass and scooting sideways to make room for him. Kicking off her slouchy ankle boots, she put her stockinged feet up on the coffee table. As was usual lately, he said little. It fell to her to keep up the conversation. “You have no idea how weird these holidays have been. Dallas ruined everything and no one can see that. I keep wanting to grab Vivi by the shoulders and shake her until she sees what I see. Maybe I can figure out a way to mail her his criminal record. That should wake her up.”
“Really, Win,” Luke said, sighing. “Do we have to have this conversation every time we’re together? It’s getting old. They’re married.”
“And now they’re going to have a baby.”