Author's note: Don't read this story until you've read the previous one, Planning. This story is in response to angry readers. First they said they hated Robert Thigpen, who was a nasty, manipulative little so-and-so. One woman even said she'd like to hit him with a blunt instrument. Robert Thigpen is probably my most hated fictional character. Then somebody else demanded that I tell the story from Dolores' point of view. So here it is, with a shift in focus. Don't shoot the messenger. I hope it fills in a few gaps in the Thigpen saga.
She had sworn she would never become a Baptist.
But as Dolores Thigpen kicked open the bedroom door, and viciously kicked off her high heels, throwing herself backwards on the bed in total disregard for her designer dress (80% off at Dillard's, she was a killer shopper), all she could think of to say was 'gosh darn it', so thoroughly had proper verbal habits crept in.
Obadiah the Cairn terrier (son of Amos, sire of Jonah, pets of Gideons with a sense of humour) stuck a cautious nose from under the bed as Dolores heaved a frustrated sigh. In her mother's words, she was 'feeling like her name'. Too much shopping, too many ladies' coffees, too many good works filling up her empty time.
Dolores sighed again, jumped up to avoid an overaffectionate cat, and changed her dress before going into the kitchen to start dinner.
Slicing okra for vegetable soup, Dolores tried to put discontent from her mind, but without success. 37 next week, good figure...she started the broth, salted it, tasted it, nodded, opened a can of tomatoes, twisting off the Mason lid with practised strength...still healthy enough, she laughed to herself. It was...
It was what Robert had said about babies. Dolores knew what it was, had been dreading the conversation long before it happened. She had been to the doctor, knew there was nothing wrong on her side. When Robert had brought the subject up, a wistful look in those puppy-dog eyes of his...
She tossed in peas, carrots, corn, a pinch of salt and pepper...when he had mentioned babies, Dolores had just frozen up, a catch in her throat and a catch in her mind, as she had suddenly realised what she was afraid of.
He was going to mention adoption. She couldn't stand it. How could she tell that sweet, kind man who was always there for everybody, who never had a cross word for his worst enemy, that although she wanted a child more than anything else in the world...
...it had to be hers? She couldn't face him with that, so she had fluffed him off with inconsequential remarks, all the while petting Puff, and wishing that the cat were...oh, well, what was the use of wishing? Watching the pot boil, Dolores tossed her head angrily, and remembered to salt the soup before putting the rolls in the oven.
Things got livelier the evening Robert brought Geoff home for dinner. Geoff was a different kettle of fish from Robert - tall, muscular, handsome in an almost movie-star way, with a boyish charm that belied his 40 years.
What endeared Geoff Hayes to Dolores from the first was the way he made Robert laugh. Geoff, who somehow managed to make even bookkeeping seem glamorous, handed Robert some papers to sign, then studied the signature with mock earnestness.
'W. Robert Thigpen, Jr, ' he mused. 'I get the Junior. What's the W stand for?'
Robert, five-foot-five of dapper Southern gentleman, from the top of his wiry ginger hair to the soles of his size 9AAA brogans, blushed. "William.' And Geoff roared with laughter.
'Don't,' warned Dolores jocularly. 'His mother gets high-toned livid if you call him Billy Bob.'
Robert laughed his self-deprecating laugh. 'I'm too short for a Billy Bob,' he opined. 'Billy Bob is six-six, with a beer belly out to here...' he gestured, 'and a girlfriend named Towanda.'
This set Geoff off even more. 'Billy Bob,' he suggested, 'has a big ol' Ford pickup with a gun rack, and a Rebel flag on the bumper.'
Robert agreed, pouring more iced tea. 'Billy Bob's got a hound dog, and Towanda's hair was ruined by a ceiling fan...' This went on for quite a while, and Dolores' heart was won by the two of them.
They were inseparable on the weekends, and then, when Robert's printing business got busy, she and Geoff became...well, inseparable. When it started, it surprised them both, not only with the intensity of their need for one another, but for the way it all seemed...well, inevitable.
Dolores seemed to be waking from a long sleep. Geoff aroused feelings in her that she had not known existed. Where Robert was a lamb, Geoff was a tiger. Mondays, she blushed, and covered the scratch marks with makeup and long sleeves. Where Robert never raised his voice, Geoff was passionate about almost everything - tastes, ideas, plans...they shouted, threw things, kissed, made up.
And went home feeling guilty. Dolores sat smiling through the ladies' missionary meeting, but secretly winced at the Bible study of Proverbs. Proverbs 9:17 had become her verse...bread eaten in secret was truly pleasant, but was that all it was?
Christmas the three spent together, watching 'Camelot' on the widescreen tv. Robert sang along, unmusically, while Dolores exchanged what she hoped were unreadable looks with Geoff, finally having to run out of the living room for a good cry when Robert Goulet sang, 'If Ever I Would Leave You'. This she explained away as an eyelash in her eye.
Dolores almost gave it up the night of the first spring rain, when the thunder drove Obadiah under the bed in a snit, and Dolores, reminded of an event from their honeymoon, first clung to Robert, then made love to him with a passion she'd all but forgotten she felt for him. When she woke the next morning, determined to tell him the truth, he was gone.
Then came the call from the doctor, and matters were settled. Geoff had been brave, offering to break the news, but in the end it was they who were surprised by Robert's reaction.
Sitting over a farewell dinner Robert had made, Dolores looked at her ex-husband with a mixture of sadness and exasperated love.
'Why?'
Robert smiled gently as he reached across the table and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. 'Because I love you too much to hold onto you,' he said simply.
'Besides, I want to play with the babies.'
The wedding was a joyous affair. Dolores wore green to match her eyes, and thought that - to two men there, at least - she looked pretty good. But later, when they came to open the gifts, Dolores burst into tears.
'Darn that man! He would give us a gas grill for a wedding present!'
She didn't know about the christening gift yet.
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