Green Card

by Elizabeth Adams

  “Separate this into three pieces, then roll each piece between your hands until it looks like a long rope. Then I’ll braid them and let them rise again.”

  He began rolling the dough like she showed him—which surprisingly made his arms burn—and asked why he couldn’t braid them himself.

  “Because most guys suck at braiding, even if they know how.” He shot her a look. “Do you know how?”

  “Of course I do.” She raised her eyebrows, clearly disbelieving. “I used to braid my horse’s tail all the time.”

  Liz couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at his explanation. “You are just full of surprises, Harper.”

  After several more hours of cooking, and Harper being officially initiated by the Barrett women when Loretta tied a blue checkered apron on him and pinched his cheek, they were ready to eat. Neal arrived with fresh fir trimmings to decorate the buffet and Tiffany ran into the dining room to arrange them and set the table. She and Heather had polished the antique silver the day before and now she carefully laid it out next to her grandmother’s china. Heather collected the freshly pressed cloth napkins and secured them in the tiny wreathlike napkin rings she’d made out of small twigs the day before. Tiffany had written everyone’s name beautifully on small place cards and she and Heather giggled over who would sit where.

  William finished stirring something Loretta called honey butter and walked over to where Liz was spreading whipped cream on a pumpkin pie then carefully placing pecan halves in even spaces around the rim.

  “Who else is coming? You said your grandmother and an uncle, right?” asked Will.

  “Yes, my great-grandmother from my mother’s side is coming. She lives in an assisted living home but my uncle is picking her up. His wife and kids are also coming. They’re great, you’ll like them. He married late, so his kids are still pretty little. My Grandmother Phillips should be here any minute. She lives nearby and can be a handful, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Is that Loretta’s mother?”

  “Yes. My father’s grandparents passed away when I was a kid and his father died a few years back, but his mother lives in town with her sister. I think mom said she was coming today, too.”

  Just then there was a commotion at the door and a loud voice yelling, “Yoohoo, I’m here!” Tiffany rolled her eyes and looked at Will.

  “Watch your back, William,” she said as she left the kitchen.

  “What does she mean?” he asked bemusedly.

  “Just that my grandma can get a little handsy around strapping young men.” Liz raised her eyebrows and wiggled her fingers for emphasis as she backed out the door, trying not to laugh at Will’s disbelieving expression.

  William looked at the dining table on his way to the living room and was concerned to find his name card next to Darlene Phillips. He quickly swapped it with one a few seats down and hoped no one noticed.

  After greeting Liz’s family for twenty minutes, William’s head was spinning. Was this how she’d felt meeting his family? So far he’d met Liz’s great-grandmother, who was a quiet, bent old woman who kept hard candy in her pocket for her youngest grandchildren, Loretta’s brother David and his wife Michelle, who seemed to be nice, normal people, and their three children that he couldn’t begin to remember the names of. Neal’s mother Edith was a sweet woman whom Elizabeth obviously loved and Will found her to be pleasant to talk to.

  Darlene Phillips was a force of nature: loud, outspoken, and unfortunately, appreciative of a well-formed man. She hugged William just a little too long for his comfort and he was pretty sure most grandmothers didn’t run their hands up and down strangers’ backs like she’d done his. He saw Tiffany laughing and wiggling her eyebrows while gesturing with her hands and was slightly horrified before he could admit it was pretty funny.

  The meal went smoothly enough. The children ate in the kitchen and the adults sat down in the dining room where the table was extended by two leaves and every inch was covered in food. Conversation was loud, the company was boisterous, and by her third glass of wine, Darlene was a mixture of flirtatious and sentimental. Loretta tried to contain her mother while Edith talked to Heather quietly and Neal talked to Liz. Great-grandmother Phillips—whom everyone called Granny and told William he should call her that, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it—fell asleep and was led to the sofa to rest.

  Overall, Harper was overwhelmed, overstimulated, and surprisingly pleased by the entire thing. No one was putting on a face for society, they were all just being themselves regardless of who was watching—or so it appeared to him. But after two hours of such familial closeness, he decided that while it was refreshing every once in a while, he preferred his calmer, more private existence for the day-to-day.

  After the dinner, they convened in the living room where an American football game was playing. Only Neal and David paid close attention and everyone generally talked or napped during the game. Tiffany was planning a morning attack on the shopping mall in the neighboring town and trying to talk Heather and Liz into going with her. Liz resisted, but Heather was sucked in. After eating three slices of pie and a generous helping of his very own banana pudding, Will was ready for a nap himself. By the time he was drifting off to sleep that night—at nine-thirty no less—he believed everything he’d ever heard about turkey making people sleepy.

  26

  Introducing Mrs. Barrett

  November, Friday after Thanksgiving

  7 Months Married

  “How's it going with that husband of yours?” Loretta asked as she breezed into the kitchen.

  Liz looked up from the book she was reading at the kitchen counter and slid her plate of cheese and crackers over so she could set it down. “I think it's going pretty well.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think I was pregnant?” Liz asked with crimson cheeks.

  “Well, you got married in such a hurry. What did you expect people to think?”

  Liz sighed and shook her head. “Mom, it's been over six months. Don't you think I would have told you by now if I was? Wouldn't it be obvious?” She gestured to her flat stomach.

  “Well, you could have had a miscarriage or ... something.”

  Liz shook her head again. “Well, rest easy, Mom. I'm not pregnant. Nor have I ever been. And before you ask, I'm not planning on it anytime soon, either.”

  “You don't want to wait too long. You're not getting any younger,” she scolded.

  “I'm twenty-three!”

  “Soon to be twenty-four, missy. You don't want to wait forever. You can't be a student your entire life. At some point you'll have to start living in the real world.” She sighed dramatically and looked at her daughter with concern and what looked like resigned pity. “Though I can't say I'm surprised. You always did have your head in the clouds, doing whatever suited you and not worrying about little things like reality.”

  Liz stood. “Mama, I don't—”

  “Just like your father. Always were, you know. Even as a baby, you were just like him.” Her expression softened slightly. “At least you got your looks from me.”

  Liz tried to smile but was not very successful. Loretta reached across the counter and grabbed Liz's plate. She took out two small plastic bags and put the cheese in one and the crackers into the other.

  “Your father never did change, you know. And if you're not careful, you'll end up just like him.” She shook her head sadly and huffed. “Don’t be leaving food out. I’m not made of money.” She punctuated her statement with a shake of the bag she had just put the sliced cheese in before she gracelessly dropped it into the refrigerator. “We can't all be perpetual students, living off others. Some of us have to get real jobs and go to work every day.”

  “Mama, I'm not—” she was cut off.

  “Just like a Barrett. I don’t know why I bother—you’ve always done exactly what you wanted to do. Nobody could tell you differently; once you'd made
up your mind, there was no talking to you,” Loretta continued, ignoring Liz. She punctuated each statement with emphatic hand motions.

  “Mama, really. That's not true!”

  “And now look! You've gone and married a total stranger! And a foreigner! What were you thinking?”

  “You said you liked Will! And he's English. It's not like we speak different languages. And even if we did, he's a perfectly nice guy and we're good together. Can't you just be happy for me?”

  “Happy for you! Happy for you? How can I be happy when my daughter won't even invite her own mother to her wedding? Do you know how that looks? What am I supposed to tell people?”

  “That was months ago! It was spur of the moment! You were invited to the reception. You said you were too busy to come.”

  “Of course I was! I have my own life! I can't just drop everything and run off to New York for a party. I have responsibilities here.” She opened her arms and gestured to the house around her.

  Liz took a deep breath. “Mom, I'm sorry you missed the wedding, truly, I am. But I can't change it now. Why don't we sit down and find a date for you to come visit? We'll pick a time when the shop is slow and ask Heather to watch it for a few days. What do you say?”

  “I say it's just like you not to remember that Heather is in school right now. And that she spends every spare moment working at Johnson's Mill. She's not going to have the time to come over here and watch my store for a few days. And I certainly can't afford to close it!” She huffed and mumbled to herself, “Thoughtless girl.”

  Liz took a deep breath and slid off her bar stool. When her mother got to the grumbling stage, there was no reasoning with her. It was time to cut her losses and hope it would all blow over by dinner. She walked across the kitchen and into the small hallway, directly into Will.

  “Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you.”

  He held her upper arms firmly to steady her and looked into her eyes searchingly. “Are you okay?”

  “How much of that did you hear?”

  He raised his brows, “Almost all of it, I think. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I'm fine. It's Mom. She gets like this sometimes. It's all the stress. The holidays and the visitors and everything happening at once. It'll blow over soon.”

  “Hmm.” He swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her out the side door. He didn't stop walking until he reached the tire swing hanging from an old oak tree in the back yard, far away from the house.

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  She climbed onto the swing and he gave her a little push.

  “Not too often. I seem to bring it out in her.” She smiled ruefully and released an awkward laugh.

  “Does the same thing happen with your sisters?”

  “Sometimes with Heather. Once in a while with Jenny. Never with Tiffany; she can do no wrong in my mother's eyes,” she said cynically.

  He nodded. “So it's just you that brings out this special... side in her.”

  Liz nodded slowly and held on to the rope.

  “I used to wonder what it was about me that set her off, but now I just try to get out of the way when I see trouble coming. There's nothing I can do about it, so I just try to avoid it.”

  “Is this why you really moved in with your dad?”

  Liz looked down sadly and eventually nodded. “Yeah, that was a big part of it.”

  Will reached out and stopped the swing. He lifted her chin and looked at her squarely. “Why didn't you tell me, Lizzy?”

  There was something so incredibly earnest about his eyes when he asked her. Maybe it was the distant smell of fire mixed with dry leaves, or the slow gurgle of the creek just behind them. Maybe it was the way his sweater was so soft and warm, or the way his cologne tickled her nose and made her want to come just a little bit closer. She didn't know why, but suddenly Liz was overwhelmed by the understanding in his eyes and for the first time in a long time, she let herself break down.

  She literally crumpled, nearly falling off the swing, while Will held her up and rubbed her back as she sobbed onto his shoulder. She clung to him desperately, taking deep, ragged breaths and releasing the tension she'd been holding in for so long. He made shushing sounds and said soothing words, all the while holding her to him and stroking her hair, rubbing her back, and rocking slightly. In her state of complete emotional vulnerability, Elizabeth realized that she had never felt so safe.

  And that made her cry even more.

  Eventually, Will spoke. “Do you want to go home tonight, baby?”

  She sniffled. “No. We leave tomorrow as it is. I can hold out till then.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I'm sure. And Dad would be upset if I missed the bonfire. It's a family tradition.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say. We don’t have anywhere to be. Why don't you show me around the farm?”

  She wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve and nodded. “Okay.”

  He returned to the house for a moment to grab their jackets and scarves. As he was wrapping hers around her neck, she gave him a watery smile and said, “Thanks, Will.”

  He smiled back softly and said, “Any time.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were walking through a field dotted high with stiff, brown grass. Liz looked over at Will, watching his expression and thinking about the last few days.

  “You're being awfully friendly,” she said carefully. “I thought we weren't supposed to be friends.”

  “Of course we're friends,” he said. “Very good friends.”

  He touched her cheek where a single curl was blowing across her face, then tucked it behind her ear. “I'm sorry, Liz.” She looked at him questioningly. “I'm sorry I ever made you think we weren't friends. We are. You're my best friend,” he added quietly as he looked at the brown grass at his feet.

  “I thought Andy was your best friend,” she said softly.

  “He was. He's been replaced.” He gave her a gentle smile and she beamed back at him. “Really, Liz, we're more than just friends. We're partners. You know that, don't you?”

  “I do now,” she answered. “I’m sorry, too. For the song, for everything. I was a brat.”

  Will nodded and looked away. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they continued walking.

  “Come on,” she said eventually. “I want to show you the old barn.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her as she trudged through the field.

  **

  That night at the bonfire, Liz caught up with everyone that she hadn’t seen or had a chance to talk to at the party.

  After an hour of making the rounds, she saw her cousin Mary walking up from the driveway with a baby on her hip and a small boy holding her hand.

  “Mary!” Liz ran over to greet them and hugged her cousin tightly before taking the baby out of her arms.

  “Hi, Lizzy!”

  “And how is little Lily?” she cooed to the baby in her arms. She looked down when she felt a tugging on her pants leg. “Hi, Joey. How are you?” He smiled and she hugged her four-year-old cousin. “Come sit down with me and tell me how everything is going.”

  Liz led Mary to a seat off to the side and asked Tiffany to take Joey over to the fire. She settled into a lawn chair across from her cousin and wrapped eighteen-month-old Lily in her blanket and leaned back with the baby cuddled close to her.

  “So how are you?” Liz asked.

  Mary sighed. “I’m doing all right. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your party the other night. Joey had a stomach bug.”

  “That’s all right. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving with Brad’s family?”

  She shrugged. “It was all right. His mother’s a horrible cook, but what do you do?”

  Liz laughed. “Are you still taking classes over in Waynesboro?”

  She sighed again. “As I can. Classes are expensive and so are diapers. I’m only taking one right now.”

  “Do you not qualify for any kind of aid?”

  �
��Not for the program I’m in. I’m not degree-seeking, so my options are limited.” Liz nodded and Mary continued. “I just can’t manage a full degree with four kids. I can barely manage the odd class right now, especially with Brad working the swing shift at the factory.” She leaned her head back and Liz couldn’t help but notice the lines beginning to form on her forehead and around her eyes, making her look older than her twenty-seven years.

  “Where are Maddy and Ben? I haven’t seen them yet.”

  “They went running straight to the fire when we got here. I saw Heather helping them put marshmallows on sticks a minute ago.”

  Liz nodded. “So everyone’s doing all right? The kids are healthy and happy and life is good?”

  Mary laughed cynically. “Oh, Liz! How you manage to put such a nice spin on everything I’ll never know. There’s food on the table, Maddy and Ben are doing pretty well in school, and Brad’s managed to keep the same job for over a year, so that’s a plus.”

  Liz tried to smile but knew it probably came out more like a grimace. “Are things any better between you two?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary shook her head and looked toward the fire and the crowd of people laughing around it. “We’re okay, I guess. The sex is decent, so I guess that’s good. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing we have in common anymore.”

  Liz made a sympathetic face.

  “He still spends every Thursday night at the bowling alley getting drunk with the boys, though I doubt that will ever change.”

  “Do you want it to change? Do you want to be married to him?”

  “I have four kids with him. I don’t think I have much choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  “Not a good one. I have no marketable skills besides waiting tables, at least not yet. I’m really good at getting pregnant and changing diapers, but no one wants to pay me to do that.” She laughed ruefully. “Brad isn’t all bad. He loves the kids and he loves me, in his way. He’s just as bogged down as I am, he just deals with it differently.”

  Liz nodded. “I’m so sorry, Mary. I wish there was something I could do to help. What do the kids need? I can make it part of their Christmas present.”