It is said you gather you make a decision about someone in the first minute or so that you meet them. With that in mind, its a wonder Billy and I ever got together in the first place. People in small towns love to judge. They thrive on it. In a way, we all cast judgement whether we intend to or not.
I came to Blanket with my own baggage. I was in a marriage that was falling apart and had left me with bruises and broken ribs. People had their own speculations about me. Heck, I think people knew more about what I was doing that I did. That's just the way small towns work. I don't remember Zephyr being quite as bad. They pretty much kept to their own. God only knows what they were saying about you behind closed doors, but Blanket had a cafe, a grocery store and a gas station...three places of congregation outside the local churches for folks to gather and gossip. Then there was the quilting club--a gossip group of its own-stitched together by a common love for creating the most magnificant heirlooms and some of the towns most coloful ladies. Tye, Pat and Wyvone were all crafters of this trade...Wyvone being the most renouned and the most dedicated to the art.
Wyvone was leary of my relationship with her son, and with good reason. She had Josie to think about, her one year old mid-life miracle baby and here was her son bringing home someone else's abused wife like a child would bring home a wounded bird or stray dog. She and Bill had agreed to put me up for a month or until I could find a place of my own.
I don't recall ever meeting people who worked so hard and had so little to show for it, materialistically speaking. Materialism wasn't important to Bill Sherrod. A a beat up old truck, a cold Shaffer Light, groceries in the fridge, grease under his nails and a pack of smokes and he was more than content with life. Here was a man with a two sons, Billy 23 and Joey 18, a one year old daughter and a wife who was lucky to be alive.
There was a strange comfort I felt in Bill's presence. I felt safe. Most people would have to see way beyond his rough and weathered exterior, the steady stream of profanities and the alcohol. I could tell he was a protector of his family, as Billy would someday be. Around him, I not only felt safe, I felt no condemnation; no judgement. He took me at face value...nothing more....nothing less like he does all people.
It was the 4th of July when Billy's family had planned a gathering at Pat & Russ's house. Now, for all of your life, you've known Tye as your "Mama Tye", but in fact, Pat was your grandmother and Russ was her husband. Tye, was your great-grandmother. As hot as it was, we took the bike to Zephyr. This was my first trip to Diamond B Ranch. Billy & I stopped off on the way to swim in the tank before heading over to see the rest of his family.
On this first visit with Wyvone's family, I was oblivious to the scrutiny that I had been put under. Billy and I were in a new relationship and loving life. Things were just dandy in our own little world. As we visited his family more and more, I began to get homesick. I didn't belong and the the 3 women of this family (Wyvone, Pat, & Tye) were hell-bent on making sure I knew it. Around the men of the family, all was fine, but whether they had been hunting, fishing or just shooting the bull outside, these three ladies would take every opportunity they had to cut me to the quick. Beverly took note of this, especially when it concerned Tye. She had spent a fair amount of time with her grandparents. Beverly didn't know her biological father....this was yet another common bond we shared. She was also the apple of her her PaPa's eye. I was no stranger to that affection either. Tye, on the other hand, could be harshly cold for no apparent reason with her. Beverly didn't know why and I had no answers for her. Wyvone had often made comments about 'favorite grandchildren' of her parents and how Beverly was 'it'. While Beverly respected Elvie and they shared shared a passion for horses she didn't feel this put her at any advantage. True as it is, she did spend more time with them, but she also had to suffer and she sharpened tongue of her own grandmother. As years and the course of events changed, Wyvone would come to know this person she called Mother from Beverly's eyes.
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