Was there? Did it bother Kyle that she didn’t take the time to doll herself up?
When Sherry started to speak she snapped back to attention.
“I’ve worked in restaurants since I was thirteen. I washed dishes, bused tables, and worked my way up to waitress. When I turned twenty-one I started working in bars. I’ve either bartended or been a cocktail waitress for the last thirty-nine years.”
Kyle wore an impatient look. This was all old news to him. Celia had to wonder why Sherry was rehashing it. For her benefit? So Celia would know how hard Sherry’s life had been?
“I’d been bartending at the VFW in Rawlins for a year, trying to figure out what to do with my life. The age group was mostly married middle-aged guys, so they were always flirting with me. Pretty harmless most of the time. Their wives didn’t like me ’cause I was hot stuff back in those days.”
Celia had no problem envisioning a younger Sherry. Vivacious. Built like a dream. She could probably bullshit with the best of them and mix a mean drink with complete charm. Kyle was a total chip off the old block.
“Marshall only showed up once a month. He was a good-looking man, around forty-five. Respectful. Good tipper. I didn’t really flirt with him, but I didn’t have to. I knew by the way he looked at me that he wanted me. We talked and I found out he was in a bad marriage. He saw no way out of it since he’d taken over his wife’s family ranch.
“One night he’d stuck around while I closed down, and he kissed me. I’d never been kissed with such…I don’t want to say desperation, but that’s what it was. And it’d been a long time since I’d been with any man, so I said yes when he asked if I’d spend the night with him. We checked into a motel. Without going into too much detail, I think he lived out all his sexual fantasies in that one night. In the morning he’d said if I told anyone, he’d deny it.”
“Classy,” Kyle said with a snarl.
“I ended up pregnant, which was ironic because he told me he was sterile. I quit my job at the VFW, moved to Casper to work as a waitress. Even at age twenty-eight I wasn’t ready for motherhood and I had every intention of putting my baby up for adoption. But the first time I felt Kyle move inside me, I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep him.” Sherry’s eyes filled with tears and she reached for a napkin. “It wasn’t easy being a single mom, working late-night bar hours, trying to find decent child care when I had a nighttime job. But we managed. I stuck it out in Casper for ten years.
“Then one of my old bosses opened up a new supper club in Rawlins and she asked me to train the waitstaff. The money was better, so I returned to where I’d started.”
“Did you leave when you were pregnant because you were afraid of Marshall’s reaction?” Kyle asked.
“No. Maybe. It was a blur.”
“And never once during those years we struggled, did you think to contact Marshall and demand he support me? Support us? You eventually had the proof that I was his kid. Why didn’t you do it sooner?”
Sherry took a long sip of her orange juice. “I was a cocktail waitress, Kyle. In a small town. For all Marshall knew, and the way he acted, since I’d slept with him so easily, I’d probably slept with other men that easily all the time.”
“Bullshit.”
Celia believed Sherry. Harper’s mother had also spent her life working in bars. Even before her mother had run off, she had a reputation as an easy piece, which everyone in town believed, regardless if it was true.
“I wish it was bullshit. Marshall and I didn’t run in the same circles in Rawlins and we crossed paths only one time. And his wife was with him.”
Kyle suddenly sat up and snapped his fingers. “Wait. I remember that. At the fall festival my junior year. I was about sixteen? I’d given up football for rodeo. You volunteered to work the concession stand with me. When they showed up you were really weird. You kept telling me to check the popcorn maker. Like four times.”
Her eyes turned shrewd. “You remember that?”
“I just remembered it. You never gave a shit what anyone thought of you, but you were self-conscious in front of them. It was the first time I’d ever seen you like that.”
“After seeing him with his nasty wife I remembered why I never told him about you.” Sherry dabbed her eyes. “She would’ve been horrible to you, Kyle, since you were born on the wrong side of the sheets. I’ll own up to any mistakes I made raising you alone, but having someone that bitter in your life…I don’t regret keeping you from that.”
“Did he know that night?”
She shook her head. “The night you were in the motorcycle accident I drove out here, pretty hysterical. I said if you needed surgery, he needed to help pay for it because you were his son. He called me every name in the book. Basically threw me out of his house. But a couple of days later he tracked me down and demanded a paternity test.”
Kyle got up and grabbed a beer. Instead of returning to his chair, he paced. “So he knew I was his son and did nothing.” He faced Sherry, his face a mask of confusion and anger. “Why?”
“I can’t answer that. I wish I could. I didn’t know him either, Kyle. I had a few conversations with him thirty-some years ago. One night with him. When he found out about you…you were an adult, his wife was dead, and he had proof you were his kid. He should have—”
“Since he didn’t bother, the responsibility should’ve been yours,” Kyle snapped.