“Oh, go on.” Lou Ann’s flush of pleasure belied her dismissive words.
“But I’m still scared.”
“You know what Pastor Ricky would say. God doesn’t give us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control.”
“Yeah.” Angelica tried to feel it. Sometimes, more and more often these days, she felt God’s strength and peace inside her.
But this Labor Day picnic had put her into a tailspin. Steaks and burgers weren’t the only thing likely to be grilled; she would be, too.
“Here’s a little tip,” Lou Ann said. “Pretend like they’re people from another country, another culture. You’re a representative of your culture, bringing your own special gifts. You’re not expecting to be the same as them, just to visit. Like you’re an ambassador to a foreign land.”
Angelica cocked her head to one side, her fingers stilling in the warm, loose dirt. Slowly a smile came to her face. “That’s a nice idea. If I’m an ambassador, I’m not under pressure to be just like them.”
“Right. You just have to think, that’s interesting, that’s not how we do it in my culture, but that’s okay.”
“Yes! And in my culture, we’d bring a gift.” Angelica reached for a sugar snap pea and popped it into her mouth, savoring the vegetable’s sweet crunch.
Lou Ann smiled. “Atta girl. What would you bring?”
“Food, probably. But that’s the last thing they need, especially at a country club bash.”
Lou Ann tugged at a recalcitrant carrot and then held it up triumphantly. “Anyone would welcome fresh vegetables from a garden.”
Angelica flashed forward to imagine herself and Xavier walking onto the country club grounds. The image improved when she threw in a basket of zucchini, tomatoes and carrots. She threw her arms around the older woman. “You’re a genius!”
* * *
Troy pulled up to the bunkhouse and, on an impulse, tooted the horn in the same pattern he used when he’d dated Angelica years ago. It was a joke, because he’d always insisted on coming to the door even though she urged him not to. It used to be something of a race, with him hustling to get out of his car and up to the door before she could grab her things and burst outside.
He couldn’t beat her now, though. By the time he’d grabbed his stupid cane and edged gingerly out of the truck—man, his leg ached today—Angelica had emerged from the bunkhouse. Her rolled-up jeans fit her like a dream, and her tanned, toned arms rocked the basket she was carrying, and Troy wanted to wrap his arms around her, she looked so cute.
“What do you have there?” Troy asked. He was proud of her, proud of bringing her to meet his family. Remeet them, actually; they’d all known each other forever. But Angelica was a different person now, and they all had a different relationship.
“Just a little something for your dad.”
“For Dad, huh?” Troy tried to smile, but he wondered how that would be received. His father was notoriously difficult, and Troy had already warned Angelica that his dad’s moodiness had gotten worse. None of them could go a whole evening without causing him to yell or cuss or storm out of the house.
Lou Ann came out bringing Xavier, fresh-scrubbed and grinning.
Troy gave him a high five. “You ready for some fun, buddy? They have a blow-up bounce house and a ball pit and face painting.”
“Face painting is for girls,” Xavier said scornfully.
“I just now saw your outfit,” Lou Ann said to Angelica, then turned to Troy. “Have they changed their rules about denim?”
Angelica’s face fell. “Aren’t you supposed to wear jeans?”
“It’s no problem,” Troy said. “They did away with that rule a couple of years ago.”
“I didn’t even think of it,” Angelica said uneasily.
He put a protective arm around her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You look great!” But the truth was, he was on edge himself. It wasn’t just his dad’s bad moods; his older brother wasn’t much better. Dad and Samuel, the two wealthiest men in the community, could be an intimidating pair.
“It’ll be fine,” he repeated. And hoped it was true.
When they got to the club, they were greeted with the smell of steaks and burgers grilling and the sound of a brass quartet playing patriotic songs. The whole place was set up like a carnival, with music and clowns and inflatables, and kids ran in small packs from one attraction to the next.
“This is so cool, Mom!” Xavier’s eyes were wide, as if he’d never seen anything like this before. And knowing how poor they’d been, maybe he hadn’t.
“It really is.” She was a little wide-eyed herself.
He took Xavier by one hand and Angelica by the other and urged them forward. “We’ll find you someone fun to play with,” he told Xavier. “Samuel’s girl, Mindy.”
“A girl?”
“Girls can be fun!” He squeezed Angelica’s hand, trying to help her relax, and looked around for his brother’s daughter. Truthfully he worried about the girl. With an overprotective, suspicious father who tended to stay isolated, she often seemed lonely. “Hey, Sam!” He waved to his brother, gestured him over.
Sam walked toward them, frowning, holding Mindy’s hand.
“Hey,” Troy greeted his brother, glaring to remind him to be polite. “You remember Angelica, right?”
Sam gave him a quick nod and turned to Angelica. “Angelica. It’s been a long time.”
“And this is Xavier, Angelica’s son.”
“Say hello,” she prompted gently.
But Xavier was staring at Mindy. “What happened to your other hand?”
“Xavier!” Angelica sounded mortified.
“I was born without it,” Mindy said matter-of-factly. “What happened to your hair?”
“Leukemia, but it’s gonna be gone soon and then I’ll have hair.”
Mindy nodded. “Want to go see the ball pit? It’s cool.”
“Sure!” And they were off.
“I’m so sorry he said that,” Angelica said to his brother. “He should know better.”
“No problem,” Sam said, but to Troy’s experienced ear, the irritation in his brother’s voice was evident. He hated for anyone to comment on his daughter’s disability. Plus, the man was frazzled; since his wife’s death, he’d had his hands full trying to run his business empire and care for his daughter.
“Kids will be kids,” Troy said as a general reminder to everybody, especially his brother.
“That’s true,” Sam said. “I’m sorry Mindy commented on your son’s hair. Are things going okay with his treatment?”
“I’m hopeful,” Angelica said quietly. “Lots of people are praying for him.”
They strolled behind the two running children. Troy kept putting his arm around Angelica while trying not to actually touch her. He was being an idiot, but there’d been awkwardness between them ever since their botched conversation the other night, when she told him about her attack. He wished he hadn’t pushed her to reveal her assailant, but he wanted to know because the guy deserved punishment. He also needed to be off the street.
Xavier and Mindy were chattering away as they zigzagged from craft table to ball toss. The adults, on the other hand, were too quiet. “Angelica brought some vegetables for Dad,” Troy told Sam, trying to keep this reunion from being a total fail.
His brother nodded. “Too bad Dad hates vegetables.”
“Oh.” Angelica’s face fell. “They’re fresh from the garden back at Troy’s house. I’ve been helping Lou Ann take care of it. Does he even hate fresh tomatoes?”
“Pretty much. But,” Sam added grudgingly, “his doctor told him he needs to eat better, so maybe this will help.”
“We made some zucchini bread, too. Maybe he’ll like that, at least.”
&n
bsp; “I’m sure he will,” Troy said firmly.
Sam didn’t answer, and after a raised-eyebrow glance at him, Angelica shrugged and got very busy with examining the Popsicle-stick crafts at the kids’ stand and checking out the tissue-paper flowers some of the older girls were making. The brass quintet started playing old-fashioned songs, of the “Camptown Races” sort, and the smell of grilled sausage and onions grew stronger, making Troy’s mouth water.
“Where’s Dad?” he asked to kill the awkward silence.
“I’ll get him,” Sam said. “Watch Mindy, would you?”
“Sure.”
As Sam left, Angelica looked up at Troy. “He hates me. I can tell.”
“Well, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t hate anyone. He’s a good guy underneath. But he’s had people take advantage of him a lot, and his wife’s death was really traumatic. So bear with him. He’s protective of his family, and he thinks you hurt me.”
“I did hurt you,” she said softly. After a minute’s hesitation, she reached out and lightly grasped his forearm, and the touch seemed to travel straight to his heart. “I never apologized about that. I shouldn’t have left like I did, Troy. I should have trusted you more, and it was wrong of me to leave without any explanation. You can maybe understand how desperate I was, but still, I realize now that it was a mistake.”
“Thanks for saying that.” Seven years later, he found that the apology still mattered. His throat tightened. “I appreciate hearing those words from you. But I’m sorry, too.”
“For what?” She looked up at him through her long lashes, and she was so pretty he just wanted to grab her into his arms. But you didn’t do that with Angelica.
“For being the type of person who’d judge a woman for something that wasn’t her fault.” He saw Mindy stumble, watched Xavier reach out a hand to steady her. “Life’s taught me not to be so rigid about everything.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” She laughed a little, looking off toward the cornfields in the distance. “We all learn as we get older.”
“Well, most of us.” He nudged her and nodded toward his father, who was being urged out of his seat by Sam and Daisy. “Some are a little more thickheaded and it takes longer.”
“Here we go,” she said, obviously trying to be funny, but he could hear the dread in her voice.
“Just don’t let anything he says get to you. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” She tightened her grip on his arm and then let go. Today was the first time Angelica had initiated touching him since they met again, and he had to hope that it meant there was some promise for them together.
Xavier and Mindy shouted for them, and they turned to watch the two kids skim down the inflatable slide together. Around them, people were starting to gather at tables covered by checkered tablecloths. Parents were trying to get their kids to come to supper, helped along by the smell of hot dogs and cotton candy.
The warm sun and music and patriotic decorations brought back memories of his parents in happier days, of playing baseball and Frisbee with his brother and sister here at the club, of eating and laughing together before everything had started to go wrong in his family.
Behind them, he heard his father’s grousing voice. “I don’t want to walk all the way over there. I just got comfortable sitting down and—”
“Come on, Dad.” It was Daisy, and when he turned to look he saw that she was urging their father along by herself; Sam had apparently bailed on supervising this meeting. “Troy’s fiancée is here,” Daisy continued determinedly, “and you need to welcome her. Hi, Angelica!”
Angelica offered a big smile. “It’s good to see you, Daisy. Hi, Mr. Hinton.”
“Hello.” His father didn’t say anything rude, thankfully; that probably meant he hadn’t had much to drink yet. But he looked Angelica up and down with a frown.
“Dad, Angelica brought you some vegetables from the garden.”
She rolled her eyes at him, subtly, and he realized he was trying too hard.
“Humph.” His father looked at the basket dismissively. “Green stuff.”
Troy opened his mouth to smooth things over, but Angelica took a step in front of him, effectively nudging him out of her way. “Sam said you don’t like vegetables, but there’s some zucchini bread I made from Lou Ann Miller’s recipe. I hope you like it.” She held out the basket.
“Thank you.” His father took it begrudgingly. “That woman always won the prize at picnics when we were teenagers. Even back then, she was a good cook.”
Angelica smiled. “She still is. Maybe you could come visit sometime.”
Troy gritted his teeth. He avoided inviting his dad over because the man was so difficult. He didn’t like what Troy was doing with his life—being a vet, especially doing rescue. The Hinton sons should be making money hand over fist in the world of agricultural high finance, according to his dad.
“So you’ve taken to being a hostess at Troy’s house, have you?” his father asked.
“Dad!” Daisy scolded before Troy could intervene. “Angelica has every right. She’s marrying Troy.”
* * *
As Angelica followed the group toward the long dining tables, Daisy’s words rang in her ears like chimes foretelling her fate. “She’s marrying Troy.”
“Hi, Angelica!” A blonde in spike-heeled sandals approached, with mirror-image blond girls holding each hand. Ugh. She’d wanted a distraction, but not necessarily in the form of Nora Templeton—one of the country-club girls who’d been meanest when they were in high school together. Was her voice really prissy? Or was Angelica just defensive?
“Hi, Nora,” she said, holding out a hand.
“Let Mommy shake hands, Stella,” Nora said, pulling loose from one of her daughters to hold out a perfectly manicured hand.
Which made Angelica wonder if she’d gotten all the dirt out from under her own nails since her marathon gardening session that morning.
“Run along and play a minute.” Nora shooed her daughters away. “How are you? I heard you were back in town.”
“Yes.” As Nora’s daughters high-fived each other and ran off toward the dessert table, Angelica debated how much to tell. “My son and I wanted to spend more time with my grandpa.”
“That’s sweet. I see your grandpa sometimes at the Towers when I visit my aunt.” She leaned closer. “Your son looks a lot like his daddy.”
Angelica’s world blurred as she stared at the other woman. Did Nora know Jeremy, her assailant, then? Who else did?
“He’s got that same dark hair and sweet smile.”
Around them, people stood in clusters or found seats at family-sized tables. Troy’s friend Dion was sitting down with an older couple, and he saw her and gave a friendly wave.
Angelica fought to stay in the present and analyze Nora’s words. Did she mean Jeremy? Had Jeremy talked about what had happened, then, after threatening her with a worse assault if she ever said a word?
Nora’s eyes grew round. “Did I say something wrong? I just assumed Troy’s your son’s father.”
Angelica’s breath whooshed out. Troy. Nora thought Troy was Xavier’s dad.
“If it’s supposed to be a secret, I won’t say anything to anyone. But I think it’s just so sweet that you two are finally getting married.”
Angelica stared at the other woman blankly while her mind raced. Should she just let this happen, let the misperception remain? Was that fair to Troy? To Xavier?
“Mom! Stella rubbed cake in my face and we didn’t even eat dinner yet!”
“Girls! Stop that!” Nora looked apologetically at Angelica. “They’re not always such brats. See you around!” She rushed off, leaving Angelica in a haze of self-doubt.
Oh, she’d been stupid, thinking she could bring Xavier here to live withou
t putting this small, close-knit community on alert. Everyone had to be doing the math in their heads, figuring out that Xavier was of an age to have been conceived during her former engagement to Troy.
“Come on, Angelica.” Daisy’s voice brought her back from the brink. “They’re about ready to serve dinner, and Dad likes to be first in line.”
“Make me sound like a cad,” her father grumbled.
The savory tang of barbecue sauce and the slightly burned scent of kettle corn filled the air as they straggled toward long tables heaped with potato salad, watermelon and enormous silver chafing dishes of baked beans.
Lou Ann had been right: the crowd included all skin colors, just like the town. There was even a man wearing a turban at one table and a group of women in brightly colored saris at another. Cooks and servers in pristine white aprons and chefs’ hats shouted instructions to one another, punctuated by the laughter of family groups and the shouts of children.
Angelica ran a hand over Xavier’s bald head and felt the tiniest hint of stubble. A bubble of joy rose in her chest, reminding her of what was really important.
As Angelica helped Xavier load his plate for dinner, Troy’s father stood next to her in line. “I told my son not to get together with you,” he said in what was apparently supposed to be a whisper, but was probably audible to everyone up and down the long serving buffet.
“Oh?” Ignoring the stares and nudges around them, she scooped some baked ziti onto Xavier’s plate. “Why’s that?”
“Because you dumped him before,” Mr. Hinton said. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, but she just nodded. What could she say? She had left Troy, it was true.
“What’s that man talking about, Mom?” Xavier asked in a stage whisper.
“Ancient history,” she said.
“Actually history about the same age as you are.”
The server behind the grill was openly staring. “Shrimp or steak, ma’am?”
Engaged to the Single Mom Page 14
