The Last Ballad by Wiley Cash

Author:Wiley Cash
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Katherine McAdam

Saturday, May 25, 1929

The band had already left the small stage and the guests had just been served their entrees when the ballroom doors were thrown open and Richard walked inside. As soon as she saw him Katherine knew that he’d been drinking. He was accompanied by Hugo Guyon and a fat, ugly man Katherine had never seen before. Guyon and the other man stopped just inside the doors and scanned the ballroom as if searching for available seats.

Richard walked toward the family’s large round table, where Katherine and Claire sat with Paul Lytle and his mother and father. Richard made a grand gesture of stooping to kiss Claire on her cheek, then he moved around to where Katherine sat and kissed her on top of her head. He pulled his napkin from the back of his chair and took a seat. Katherine caught Claire’s eye across the table. It looked as if her daughter was trying to blink back tears.

“Excuse me for stepping out,” Richard said. He didn’t seem to notice that no one had said a word since he’d appeared. The waiters had offered a choice of pheasant or steak, and Katherine had ordered Richard a steak. “This looks delicious,” he said. He reached beneath the table and gave her fingers a discreet squeeze. She hoped her hand felt as lifeless and sick as her heart.

“It certainly does look delicious,” Mrs. Lytle said. She, like Katherine, had ordered the pheasant, and now the woman stared down at her plate and set about picking at her dinner as if she’d never finish it.

“Where have you been?” Claire asked her father from across the table. Beside her, Paul was clearly watching Richard’s plate to gauge when it would be acceptable to cut into his own steak.

“Yes, Mr. McAdam,” Paul’s father said. “We’ve missed you.” He set down his silverware and passed his napkin across his mouth. He took a sip of water. “I thought you might be out there in the rain, trying to fix my car.” He winked at Richard, whose eyes were locked on the table. “I was about to go search for you and show you how to use a wrench.” He laughed.

“No,” Richard said. “Quite the opposite. I was outside, very much hoping to be seen.” He cut a hunk of steak and put it into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, glanced at Katherine, and made a grotesque face meant to show that he couldn’t believe how good the meat tasted. She tried to smile at him, if for no other reason than to keep up appearances in front of the Lytles. Earlier, while Claire and Paul had orbited the ballroom, dancing and greeting guests before dinner, she’d been locked in a dry conversation with Mr. Lytle about the differences between growing rice and cotton, instead of speaking to her friends or spending time with Claire. And then this business with the burned cakes and the things she’d overheard.

“Those men there,” Richard said,

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