Luna City 11th Inning Stretch: Chronicles of Luna City, #11

By Celia Hayes and Jeanne Hayden

Welcome to Luna City, Karnes County, Texas … Population 2,460, give or take! Chef Richard Astor-Hall has decided to become an American, take on a new job, and marry long-time girlfriend, Kate Heisel. His visiting parents are off on a quest for  a vineyard of very special grapes, and Miss Letty tells the story of what happened when an émigré scientist from Russia found a refuge with his family in Luna City during the 1930s.  Another chapter in the doings of the most perfect small town in  this eleventh outing to the most perfect small town in Texas.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia Hayes
• Release date: Nov 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215958674

Celia Hayes

Celia Hayes works as a restorer and lives in Naples. Between one restoration and another, she loves to write. Don't Marry Thomas Clark reached #1 in the Amazon Italian Ebook chart.

Book preview

Luna City & Environs

Luna City Town Square

Cast of Characters

(A n asterisk marks those who are deceased)

We Have to Talk

W e have to talk, said Kate quietly, sitting almost unseen in the shadows under the awning which sheltered the Airstream caravan which had been Richard’s home for almost five years. Hi, kitten, she added, as Ozzie leaped from the basket strapped on the back of Richard’s bicycle, and in another bound, landed heavily in Kate’s lap, purring extatically and butting his head in Kate’s face. Ooofff! What have you been feeding him! It feels like he has gained weight!

Well, I haven’t been feeding you, Richard answered. Kate’s appearance was ... unexpected. Unprepared for. And he hated surprises. His parents showing up out of the clear blue was about all the surprise that he could stand for one day. Although it was perhaps a good sign that she was not throwing heavy objects and death threats ... or launching her engagement ring at him. So Ozzie gets the full gourmet culinary benefit. Are you hungry? he added, hopefully. Feeding Kate was one of the simple joys in his current life.

A little, she replied. But we still have to talk.

I know, Richard sighed heavily and unlatched the door to the Airstream. But I’m not prepared. I always prepare when we have a supper together... he added, rather pettishly. All I have is some eggs, a bit of cheese ... the usual herbs, and some of Sefton’s incomparable white ... will a simple omelet do, Kate-of-my-heart?

It will, and it seemed to Richard – unaccustomed as he was to be divining the motivations of the female of the species – that Kate was ... uncomfortable. Embarrassed, even. It came to him that he ought to sit down and talk to Kate, rather than evade the issue by fossicking about in the tiny kitchen.

Look, I can fix the omelet later, he declared, sitting down in the other chair. You said that we have to talk. Let’s talk. I’ll start: my parents appeared in the Café this morning. You know – my parents from England. Though they live in France, now. I was surprised no end. I didn’t expect them to appear until later in the summer. You’d like them, Kate. They’re nice. Although my father has a skill at subtle verbal sadism that would be the envy of any interviewer on the telly. Mum’s a charmer, though. They do want to meet you, when they return from touring the wineries in the Hill Country in July. That is if we still are engaged to wed, at some future point? As Kate hesitated, petting Ozzie in her lap, Richard pressed his advantage. This was your notion, Kate-of-my-heart. That we should talk. Your turn.

Yes, we are still engaged, Kate replied, after a long, fraught moment. It seemed to Richard that moment had lasted half a decade. He hoped that his sigh of relief was not visible.

To Kate.

Who continued, petting Ozzie in a distracted fashion. I ... well, you see. I have to apologize. And I’m not used to doing that. Well, not very often. I ... made a stupid assumption. That you had proposed to me in order to expedite your application for naturalization as an American. I was! And now I’m completely sorry. Kate sniffled, and in the faint light under the awning, it seemed to Richard that her eyes were close to overflowing. And I was so happy, so extatically happy that I told simply everyone ... and ... and then it was like a wonderful treat grabbed away...

That ended on a sob, and Richard was horrified. Tears! His whole being revolted against witnessing female tears, especially from Kate, who was the most level-headed ... well, one of the three most level-headed women of his acquaintance. He hated female tears, above almost everything else, to include greasy and salt-laden junk fast food.

Look, love, he protested, taking her hand – the one what wasn’t clutching Ozzie. The whole misunderstanding is my fault, you know. I should have told you that I was planning to apply for citizenship, honest and straight-up. I just didn’t want to tangle my lines, you see. I thought that I would surprise you. Jess told me about your brother’s encounter with his ... um, lamentable former girlfriend, so I thought best not to say anything until I was farther along in the process. Don’t blame yourself, Kate – it’s my fault for not telling you about my plans.

But I was awful to you! Kate wailed, and Richard cringed inwardly.

It’s just one of those misunderstandings! he begged, truly distressed now. Don’t start crying, Kate-of-my-heart. It was just a simple failure to communicate ... but it’s all over and done with now. Please, you’re dripping tears all over Ozzie, and he abominates getting wet ... let’s just put this behind us ... and let me fix us a quiet supper.

All right, Kate sniffled again, and mopped at her eyes with the back of her hand as Ozzie had jumped down from her lap, indignant at being sprinkled with saltwater. Ugh ... I was so upset this afternoon, I quite forgot to be hungry and now I am....

Omelet, a light salad, and let me get you a glass of wine, Richard, relieved beyond all imagining, dropped a brief light kiss on her forehead and hopped up the steps to the Airstream, feeling as light as a feather.

Everything was going to be fine, now. More than fine. He and Kate were still a thing, were still going to be married. He could feel it in his bones; the Almighty Power in which he maintained a slight and conventional belief remained safely ensconced in His non-denominational paradise, and all was right with his own personal world. Kate was going to marry him, he wasn’t nearly as deeply in debt as he had feared, and the process of applying for American citizenship was, according to Jess Abernathy-Vaughn, going about as speedily as could be expected. (It’ll be finalized about the time of the birth of your second child, Jess had commented mordantly, the last time that they had discussed the matter.) He was hungry, and so was Kate. Ozzie was hungry, too; he looked reproachfully at Richard, as he sat, tail curled around his haunches, in front of the pair of dishes which normally contained his water and a meager handful of dry kibble.

Slave driver! Richard commented to Ozzie. He topped up the kibble dish and poured two glasses of Sefton Grant’s incomparable mustang grape wine. He was tired; he would sit with Kate in the twilight and have a glass ... or two ... even three. Then he would assemble the salad, and concoct an omelet... but for now, sit next to Kate. She scooched the folding patio chair close enough that she could lean her head on his shoulder, as the apricot glow behind the trees at the edge of the Grants’ rattletrap campground faded. A brief spark of light blinked against the shadowy hedge and the unkept grass that straggled against it.

Hey! A firefly! Kate exclaimed. Gosh, I haven’t seen fireflies for ages... oh, another one!

A wet spring, Richard said. Miss Letty said so. They come out just after dusk. I’m usually too late to see them, most evenings.

It’s a good omen, Kate declared, and they sat silently for some minutes, sipping wine as the tiny white sparks flickered against the shadows. Finally, Richard cleared his throat, and ventured,

There was another thing I was going to tell you. I have accepted Lew Dubois’ offer to be the executive chef for the Cattleman. He’s offered before, and I always held back. But everyone and everything has conspired to change my mind. We’ll have to work out where to live. We both can’t move into the caravan, and I can’t possibly move into your place in Karnesville, not if I work here. I don’t drive. I can’t drive...

Well, I could teach you, Kate replied, in a bracing way. But you’re right – we’d have to live in Luna City, if that is where your work is. Mine is all over the place, and I can drive. I’ll ask ‘Celi and Jess, if they know of any places looking for a tenant or a buyer; some place that will suit for a bit. I am hungry now, Rich – really. Are we going to eat soon?

Soon, Richard sighed. He really hated to get up from the lawn chair; he was bone tired anyway, possibly slightly drunk, and it was curiously comfortable, sitting with his arm around Kate, and her head resting on his shoulder. I’ll start the salad ... another?

Yes, please, Kate replied, and with a sigh, Richard loosened his embrace, and went to pour another round. The inside of the caravan seemed very cozy, with the small lights in the kitchen and banquette area casting a warm yellow glow. He set out the eggs, and the salad greens, washed and wrapped in a towel to drain. Absentmindedly, he thought of how comfortable and homey it was to be doing this, after the week of tension and fraught nerves, his worry over Kate and their future. He felt like his nerves had been stripped out, soaked in something soothing, and then wrung dry and reinstalled. He couldn’t help thinking that Kate must feel the same way. Just then, she tapped at the screen door.

Hey, lover – I’m getting cold sitting there all by myself ... and I could use another glass of this.

Excellent – and so can I! Richard hooked out the gallon jug from where it sat underneath the miniscule sink and drainboard and dealt out another glass for each. Kate settled onto the banquette and regarded him somewhat owlishly. It came to Richard that they were both the tiniest bit squiffy. Supper will be ready in a tick. Are you sure you’ll be fit to drive home after this?

No, Kate replied, and hiccupped slightly. She gazed at Richard in bewilderment. I’m absolutely ravenous ... I haven’t eaten all day; I’ve been so wrought-up over having to drive out here and make it up with you.

And I thought you had the hardest head imaginable, being raised on your grandfather’s home-brewed beer, Richard marveled, and Kate hiccupped again.

Yes, but it’s nothing compared to Sefton’s wine, she allowed.

Richard sighed, yet again, and reached for Kate’s voluminous handbag. He fished out the keys to