"Hello darling'," Clay held the telephone receiver to his ear as he imitated Conway Twitty's voice singing the first two words of a song to which he and Rebecca frequently danced. "Hi Clay," Rebecca tried valiantly to infuse some humor into her voice. "Are you learning a lot?"
"I plan on doing that tomorrow."
"I miss you." Rebecca squeezed her mother's hand while she talked to her husband.
"I miss you more."
"Mom's here, she wants me to go spend a couple of nights at the house."
"Hey that's a good idea. Just lock up our house and go."
"I think I will. I can cook for Daddy and my brothers for a few days and Mom and I can gossip."
"Okay, I'll call you there tomorrow night."
"Sure, but go out with your buddies, too."
"Oh, I plan on doing that. But none of us are interested in too much time away from the books. I understand we're getting a couple of new manuals that we have to read before the class ends."
Clay and Rebecca finished their conversation about the time Rebecca felt her knees growing weak.
* * * *
For the first few days at her mother's house, Rebecca would sit and stare into space begging her brain to release memories of every moment of the previous Saturday night. She talked to her mother as she tried to put together a picture of every minute of the evening after Clay left for his class. She made telephone calls, carefully pulling information from her friends about what they heard and saw, adding each tiny piece of information to the movie running inside her head.
No one saw anything unusual. No one heard Terry or Rebecca say anything other than what friends might say to one another. The other young females he danced with did not hear him say anything about being attracted to Rebecca, other than he thought she was pretty. He had made no effort to hide his wedding ring.
By the end of the first week, she knew her efforts were futile. She had tried so hard to remember what it felt like to kiss Terry Napes but truthfully, she couldn't even recall the color of his eyes behind his thick glasses. The movie inside her head was fine until after she and Terry drove into the driveway of her home. At that point, her movie began to loose focus. She could not adjust the view, there were gaps in the film, and minutes or hours were missing.
The times Clay talked to her, he thought she sounded a little tired, but she was also helping her mother do some extra work around the old farm house. Besides, he was tired, too. Sitting all day, cramming new details inside his head, and staying up late to review the information in the new manuals, kept his attention directed elsewhere.
Almost every night of the second week, Rebecca cried herself to sleep. When she talked to Clay, he commiserated with her about her stuffy nose and said he hoped her head cold was getting better.
Three days before Clay was due to drive home, Rebecca grew more nervous. The day before he was due home, Rebecca was inconsolable.
"It's no use, Mom. I'm never late."
"Just give it a few more days, honey."
"It won't do any good. Can Jake go to my house and leave a note for Clay?"
"Rebecca Westerman ... ah ... Rebecca Hogan, you need to be there when you husband gets home."
"I can't Mom. I just can't do it."
Saturday, Rebecca paced the long hall down the middle of the house, from the front door to the back door. She stopped pacing long enough for a minor chore, to fix a big lunch for the men, and then returned to her pacing. About the time she expected Clay to arrive, she went outside to sit on the front porch. However, when she saw his car driving down the road, she ran into the house and couldn't come outside to talk to him.
Anticipating a violent reaction from Clay, Jake and his next younger brother, Hank, were walking out the front door when Clay got out of his car. He stood and looked around for a few moments then walked toward the front porch to shake hands with his two brothers-in-law.
Rebecca stood at her upstairs bedroom window and listened to the men's mumbles, but couldn't distinguish the words used. She heard a primal roar from Clay then saw Jake and Hank holding him, backing him away from the house, as he struggled and yelled her name.
Jake made promises he wasn't sure he could keep and Hank backed him up. Clay loudly demanded Jake move aside so he could go inside and speak to his wife. Just as loudly as the other man spoke, Jake told Clay that his wife did not want to speak to him.
Eventually, the two much larger men convinced Clay that Rebecca just needed a little more time. Clay needed to go home and give Rebecca the time she needed to settle down. As soon as she was calmer, Jake would call Clay. As soon as she was ready to go home, Jake would see Clay was informed.
Clay called The Westerman home several times that night, but everyone who answered the telephone informed him that Rebecca did not wish to speak to him. Near the end of each call, Clay sent a message to his wife that he loved her.
The next morning Clay went to church, but Rebecca didn't. After the worship service, Clay spent a little time with the minister, both men agreeing that they need not have done so. Clay loved his wife and felt no shame in doing so. He spoke to Amelia Westerman and learned neither she nor Rebecca had reason to believe his wife had been raped. Even if that was the case, he loved his wife and he wanted her to come home. Amelia wasn't aware she slipped up when she told Clay the reason Rebecca wouldn't go home was because she thought she was pregnant and feared it might not be Clay's baby.
Clay smiled. For the first time in two days, he knew he could win. Rebecca was pregnant and he KNEW it was his baby. All Rebecca needed was a little time to get over her fear, realize he loved her, and forget she had gotten drunk. He knew she hadn't had sex with Terry Napes. As soon as she realized it, she would come home. He knew she had never had sex with any man but him. She had been a virgin the night he pulled her off the hood of his truck onto his rock hard cock and she knew it too. Except for the hours he worked, for more than two whole weeks before he left for his two week class, they had spent most of it in bed, loving each other, having sex, or recovering. If Rebecca was pregnant, it was his child.
Before the day was over, the story was making its way from mouth to mouth. Sisters argued with sisters. Friends disagreed with friends then agreed to set their argument aside until Clay and Rebecca could work out their differences. Citizens and farmer's wives tut tutted about the gossip then spread what they heard to anyone who would listen.
* * * *
Thus began the meetings between Jake Westerman and Clay Hogan. Every three or four days, Clay would see Jake's truck parked in front of The Little Brown Jug, or Jake would stop if he saw Clay's truck with the seed and chemical logo on the driver's door, at the bar.
Clay called the Westerman farm every morning, usually talking to his mother-in-law, Amelia Westerman, asking her to pass along the message that he loved his wife. He called the Westerman home every evening, usually talking to Hiram, or one of his sons, asking about his wife's day and reminding her father that he wanted his wife to come home.
Rebecca stood across the room listening to her mother, father, or one of her brothers talking to Clay. She would shake when he called, so nervous he might give her some kind of ultimatum she couldn't meet. A few times, she went into the kitchen to pick up the other telephone, just so she could hear his voice. But she didn't do that very often, she feared she might say something and burst into tears. She had shed enough of those already.
During the meetings at The Little Brown Jug, the men would exchange a few words. Jake described what Rebecca was doing or how she felt. Clay asked if Rebecca was having any problems with the pregnancy. Rarely one of the other Westerman brothers would be at the bar, returning from an errand in town, going to visit a neighbor, or they had a date with the daughter of another farmer.
Anytime Clay drove through the small town, he looked for one of the Westerman vehicles. If he spotted one, he usually drove around the block, but he didn't try to force Rebecca to talk to him. She needed to come home because she wanted to, not because he forced her.
Jake's first description of Rebecca's morning sickness left Clay groaning, knowing he should be with her to offer his support. Jake assured him it wasn't an every day event, just an occasional upset tummy that righted it's self quickly. Amelia Westerman was very familiar with pregnancy and reassured Rebecca there wasn't anything wrong, it was just a natural part of her body adjusting to the changes it was going through.
The other patrons of The Little Brown Jug listened to the conversations. They took the stories home with them, and the whole county became absorbed with Rebecca's dilemma.
Opinions flourished and differed. Older women thought Rebecca was being foolish. Older men thought Clay should go get his wife, take her home with him, and tell her to fix his supper. Young wives understood her fear of pregnancy and knew she would settle down if given enough time. Young unmarried women looked at Clay and smiled. They hoped to find a man as gentle as he was. Young unmarried men stood open mouth in surprise when their girlfriends remarked, "Clay Hogan wouldn't do that."
It was unusual for one of the conversations between Jake and Clay to occur on a Saturday. However, Jake had called Clay offering to report on Rebecca's appointment with her doctor the previous day. The three young women, looking for a fun time had arrived at the end of that conversation.
With the pregnancy absolutely confirmed, Clay decided he was going to apply a little persuasion to resolve his wife's absence from their marriage bed and from their home. When he left The Little Brown Jug he drove straight to the Westerman farm and parked in the same spot he had parked the evenings he had courted Rebecca.
He didn't bother to go to the front door. He stood in the front yard and raised his voice as he looked up at the bedroom windows above. It was not yet full dark, but there was a light on in the middle room.
"Rebecca Hogan, I want to talk to you."
Clay looked at the front door and saw Amelia Westerman smiling as she turned on the front porch light before she turned and walked back down the hall.
