“He’s going to propose.”
Twiggy’s eyes lit up. “Really? Soon? Does he have a ring? Don’t answer that. Ooh, but you have to tell me! Should I be trying on dresses?”
I put my hand up. “Slow down, girl. I’m sure a proposal is coming soon. I don’t have an exact date, but the good news is, when it comes, you’ll have the Pinterest account ready and waiting.”
“Guess I’d better change the name on the account to my own.” She gave me a sheepish look. “You okay with that?”
“Very okay, because Brady and I have our own plans. But they don’t look anything like all of those pictures you’ve been pinning. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Don’t be. You have your wedding and I’ll have mine.”
“Who’s having a wedding in here?” Madge asked as she took a couple of steps in our direction. “Twiggy? You gettin’ hitched too?”
“Not anytime soon, I guess.” Twiggy bit her lip. “Beau’s career as a sports agent is really taking off. I mean, really taking off. He’s flying to Phoenix this weekend and then he’s going to Houston. His client list is really growing, thanks to Stan.”
“Well, that’s good . . . right?”
“Right.” But Twiggy didn’t sound confident. “I think he’s just waiting to propose because he wants to make sure his career is solid.”
This started a whole new round of conversations about careers. Not that I really minded. At least this time all of the attention was on someone else, not me.
In the middle of the chaos, Eduardo approached me. He took my hand in his and kissed it. “Congratulations, Katie. I’m so thrilled for you both.”
“Thank you, Eduardo.” I gave him a hug. “It’s going to be wonderful. I can’t wait.”
“I would like to do something for you,” he said. “I know you’re probably having a bridal shower in your hometown, but I wanted to offer my home for a party here as well. An engagement party, maybe? Or a shower for your local friends who don’t care to travel to Fairfield? At any rate, mi casa es su casa.”
“Eduardo, that’s a lovely gesture. Very generous.”
“We’re family, sweet girl, and that’s what family members do. They care for one another.” He headed back over to my aunt, whose face melted into a buttery smile the moment he slipped his arm over her shoulders.
As I watched the two of them together, I had a suspicion it wouldn’t be long until we really were family. Glancing around the room at so many of the people I loved, I had to conclude—we were already one big happy family, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.
14
How I Feel
The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it’s all that matters.
Audrey Hepburn
After letting the others know about our plans, I somehow managed to get my wedding planning train back on track. The next several weeks were spent putting all of my ideas in motion. The girls seemed delighted with the pastel dresses they chose—Dahlia especially. I couldn’t help but think that she would look gorgeous in her soft pink dress. And Lori-Lou, who now had her hormones in alignment, was tickled to hear she’d be wearing peach.
We weren’t the only ones making plans. Bridget Pennington came and went from the shop, her Martina McBride dress looking more and more like the gown she’d dreamed of. We laughed and talked with every visit, and even commiserated about the woes of wedding planning. Most of all, we swapped stories about crazy friends and family members and their nutty attempts to derail us. We made a pact to forge ahead no matter how crazy things got.
The planning buzzed along until the second week in May, when Alva and I headed back to Fairfield for Crystal and Jasper’s wedding festivities. I couldn’t wait to spend time with Crystal and with my parents, who’d made it back to town in their fifth wheel, which—from what Mama told me—they’d parked in Queenie’s driveway.
We arrived in Fairfield on Friday at noon. With the rehearsal, the bachelorette party, and so many other fun things to attend to, I needed to get my act together. First things first, however—finding a place to park at my grandmother’s house. I’d never seen so many vehicles in one place before. Looked like the whole family had turned up to celebrate. I ended up parking half a block away and walking. Alva grumbled the whole way. All of her angst disappeared when we reached the doorway of the house, where my mother stood with outstretched arms.
“Come here, sweet girl!” Mama grabbed me and gave me the tightest hug. “Ooh, it feels so good to be back. I was starting to think we’d never see Fairfield again.”
“Home sweet home.” I wriggled out of Mama’s embrace to give my father a hug. I couldn’t help but notice he’d done something new with his hair. “Welcome.”
“What in the world have you done to your hair, Herb?” Aunt Alva asked.
I stepped back to give him a scrutinizing look. “Yeah, what’s up with that? You’ve done something different.”
“What? Hmm?” His cheeks flushed red. And they weren’t the only thing that was red.
“Pop? You dyed your hair?”
“Not dye. I used some of that Sun-In stuff. It’s supposed to lighten your hair.”
“I guess you’re not supposed to use it on gray hair. I don’t know.” Mama waved her hand in the direction of my father’s new ’do and groaned. “This is all the result of the man’s pride. He has hair the color of sweet potatoes.”
“I can think of worse things.” He gave me a knowing look. “Don’t judge my hair, woman. Besides, it’ll grow.”
Pop headed into Queenie’s house, rambling about his hair. Alva followed on his heels, carrying on about how much she loved sweet potatoes. I’d just started to follow them into the house when Mama took me by the arm.
“Before you go in, have you talked to Queenie lately?” Mama asked.
“Not since last weekend. How come?”
“You haven’t heard the news then.”
“News?” For whatever reason, the words “She’s pregnant?” slipped out.
Mama laughed. “No, but you’re on the right track. Paul’s great-granddaughter Corrie has come to live with them. She’s five.”
“What? Queenie and Pap-Paul are babysitting a five-year-old? For how long?”
“Not babysitting. They’ve taken her in. Period. No end date. She’s inside right now, in one of the guest rooms. So you and Alva will have to share a space. Is that okay?”
“Of course, but I don’t understand.”
“I guess the little girl’s mother is in some sort of rehab and the dad hasn’t been involved in her life. So she needs a place to stay.”
“But why her great-grandfather? Why not her grandparents? Seems strange that they’d skip a generation.”
“Paul’s daughter—Corrie’s grandmother—has MS. She’s in rough shape right now and doesn’t feel like she could handle it. But she lives close by, in Teague, so she can see the girl as often as she likes.”
I felt bad about the grandmother’s struggles, but I also wondered if my own grandmother, who’d been battling knee problems and other health issues, was up to the task. Time would tell.
I carried my suitcase into the house and greeted the others, who’d clustered around the kitchen table, which was loaded with goodies. Through the crowd I caught a glimpse of a gorgeous little girl. The blonde reminded me a lot of myself at that age. A face filled with freckles. Tiny wisps of buttercup-yellow hair framing her face, the rest pulled back in a loose ponytail. Fair skin that begged for time outdoors. Only one difference: I’d always been tough as nails, athletic and strong. This little one looked thin. Frail, even. And where I’d always been bubbly and outgoing, she seemed shy and withdrawn. Not that I could tell much at first glance, but still . . .
“Corrie, I’d like you to meet your . . .” Queenie’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. What would she be to you, Katie?”
“Let’s just say we’re cousins.” I put out my hand and she shook it, then pulled away just as quickly.
“Corrie’s staying in the room Alva usually uses, Katie Sue.” Queenie’s brow wrinkled. “We’re thinking Alva should bunk with you in your room.”
“We have a fold-out sofa in the fifth wheel.” My father gave me a look. “You should come party with us. Mama and I are a laugh a minute.”
“Um, no thanks, Pop. I’d rather have a real bed, thanks.”
“Your loss.” He reached for a piece of cheese and a couple of crackers from one of the trays on the table. “But if you change your mind, we’ll be in the driveway.”
“One more reason why I’ll share with Alva. Don’t want to sleep in the driveway.”
He sauntered out of the room with the goofiest look on his face. I glanced at my mother, who looked a little . . . odd.
“So, how’s it going, Mama? Really?”
“Our travels, you mean?” She crossed her arms and then glanced to her right and left, probably checking to make sure Pop wasn’t listening in. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Look.” She took me by the arm and pulled me to the side of the room. “I love your father. You know that, right?”
“Well, I would hope so.”
“I love him.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“No. No convincing necessary. But honey, to put two people in such a small space, day after day after day after day . . . well, it’s just not natural.”
“Are you saying he’s getting on your nerves?” I asked.
“Would it be awful if I said yes?” Mama slapped herself on the forehead. “He chews so loudly.”
“He’s always chewed loudly.”
“You should hear it in the trailer. It’s exaggerated. And he gargles for three minutes every morning. Three minutes. He sets a timer. We don’t have room for a timer in that little bathroom. And who gargles for three minutes, anyway?”
“At least he has kissably fresh breath,” I countered.
“That’s the worst part.” Mama tugged me farther away from the crowd and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “He’s gotten . . . frisky.”
Ew. I could’ve lived my whole life without hearing that. “Maybe just the empty nest thing?” I suggested.
“Well, yeah, but he’s wearing me out. I’m trying to get him interested in scrapbooking. Cards. Cooking. Anything. But he keeps giving me that look.”
“That look?”
“Yeah. You know the one. He keeps giving me that look. Do I look like a twenty-something? I’m an old woman. We’re not on our honeymoon, after all.”
“Well, maybe to Pop this is like a honeymoon. You know? He feels young again. Free.”
“Which would explain why a few days ago he asked me to go skinny-dipping in the pond at the RV park in the middle of the night.”
Oh, gross.
“Don’t say it, Katie. I can tell from the look on your face what you’re thinking. I’m thinking it too. But I’m tired of thinking up new ways to say I have a headache. I’ve taken to pretending I’m asleep when I’m really not.”
I couldn’t help myself. My laughter rang out across the room. Several of the others turned to look at me, including Queenie.
“Go ahead and laugh.” Mama waggled her finger in my face. “Your day is coming. One day your kids will be grown and Brady will be chasing you around the RV park with that ‘come hither’ look in his eyes, and you’ll be so worn out you won’t know if you’re coming or going. When that happens, you’ll remember we had this little chat.” She paused. “Only, by then I probably won’t be around anymore.”
“There are far bigger problems in the world, Mama, than having a husband who adores you.”
“Sure. Side with your grandmother.”
“Oh? You told Queenie all of this?”
“I did. And she said the same thing. I told her to get back with me when Pap-Paul takes to chasing her around the living room when no one’s looking.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.” I put my hand up in the air to stop her. “I’d say I’ll be praying about this, but I’m not sure how I’d word the prayer. So you’re on your own there, Mama.”
“Sure. Abandon me in my hour of need.” She plopped down on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. “It’s okay. Really. First my children grow up and move away. Next they forget about me in my hour of distress.”
“What’s this hour of distress you’re talking about?” Pop’s voice rang out from behind me. “I thought I’d cuddled all the distress right out of you, woman.” He slipped his arms around her from behind and nibbled on her ear.
Gross.
“It’s just you and me now, honey-babe. All the distress is behind us now that we’re free and easy.” He pinched my mother on the backside and then slapped her bottom.
My mother’s face turned a rather violent shade of pink. “See what I mean? This is my life now.”
“And what a life it is, eh?” A chuckle rose up from the back of his throat. “We’re living in paradise. I’m the Adam to your Eve, woman.”
Okay then. Enough already. Time to run for the hills. I grabbed my suitcase and headed into the guest room, the same room I’d stayed in as a teenager whenever I’d spent the night. The same room I now claimed as my own every time I came for a visit. A lovely sensation came over me as I took in the multiplicity of pillows on the bed, the quilt rack in the corner, the small dressing table.
That same wonderful sensation stayed with me as I walked back out into the living room to join the others. I felt the usual coming-home-to-Fairfield feelings settle over me. Maybe it had something to do with the wood paneling. Perhaps it had something to do with the large oil painting of Jesus on the living room wall. Maybe it had more to do with the rose-colored floral curtains and sunshine streaming through the slits between the panels. I couldn’t quite explain it. But being here, in this house, felt comfortable.
Comfortable.
That’s just how I felt at Alva’s place too. Comfortable. Oh, not with the grape-colored décor in the guest room, maybe. And not with the Herculon sofa in the living room. But the house itself reminded me of Queenie’s home. Strange how my grandmother and my aunt had so much in common, what with them not speaking for nearly fifty years and all. Still, no one could deny the obvious. They both had the same taste in most everything.
I glanced at the breakfast table and thought about the many times I’d shared family meals there. How many times we’d played Skip-Bo and other card games there. The arguments that had ensued when, as a little girl, I’d been told that I wasn’t old enough to sit at the big table with the grown-ups. Yes, my whole life—my whole history—was firmly wound around that table. This house. These people. This town.
And though I loved Dallas, though I didn’t regret my decision to move there, a little piece of my heart would always remain here . . . in Fairfield.
15
When God-Fearin’ Women Get the Blues
I’m an introvert . . . I love being by myself, love being outdoors, love taking a long walk with my dogs and looking at the trees, flowers, the sky.
Audrey Hepburn
After a bit of conversation with the family, I settled onto the sofa next to Corrie, who looked completely lost and overwhelmed. Though I tried to make small talk, I couldn’t get much out of her, so I shifted my attention to Mama, who seemed more than happy to visit.
“What does it feel like to be home again, Mama?” I asked.
“It’s the strangest thing.” She sighed. “Now that we’ve passed the house off to your brother and his bride, we’re strangers in our own country. So it’s not quite the same. I mean, a piece of my heart will always be here—and I’m sure we’ll come home for good once the grandbabies start coming—but I feel so out of sorts without a house to return to.”
“Maybe Pop’ll build you a new one someday. You think?”
“Who knows. I just know we can’t go back to the one you were raised in. Jasper’s having the time of his life there, from what I’ve hea
rd. Crystal told me he’s renovating the kitchen. Now, I’m not saying he shouldn’t—it’s his house now—but it’ll be so strange to see it looking different.”
“Not adjusting to change well?” I asked.
“It’s funny.” Her expression grew more serious. “I rarely think about it when we’re on the road, but when we’re home again, I get a bittersweet feeling.”
“Trust me, that’s a feeling I know well.” I gave a little shrug.
“At least I talked the old flirt into bringing me back for the wedding. He even fought me on that. Said it was duck hunting season in Arkansas.”
“Pretty sure he was just pulling your leg, but I’m glad you’re here. How long are you guys staying?”
“Oh, probably a couple of weeks, then we’re headed east. Your father has decided we’ve spent enough time out west. We’re going to Eureka Springs. Then Hot Springs. Then, I don’t have a clue. Thank goodness we can keep in touch by phone, right? And that book face site.”
“Facebook. And speaking of which, did you realize those photos you posted of the Grand Canyon were upside down?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “It’s a sign of my life right now. I can’t figure out how to adjust them either. Your grandmother told me she had to stand on her head to look at them. She’s a laugh a minute.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying your retirement. But please don’t travel too far. My wedding’s in three months and I’m going to need you.” I paused, suddenly terrified at the rapidly approaching date. “Speaking of which, you’re coming to the engagement party next Friday night at Eduardo’s place, right?”
“Honey, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Mama’s eyes filled with tears. “You might think I’m more distant lately because your father has me out and about, but nothing could be further from the truth. My heart is with my kids.” A lone tear trickled down her right cheek. “You’re all growing up, and that’s the point, I guess. Before long the grandkids will start coming. Then you can bet your bottom dollar Pop and I will be back full-time. I wouldn’t miss those babies for the world.”
Every Bride Has Her Day Page 13
