On Paper Wings

by Magan Vernon

  “Blaine, would you like a drink?” Grandpa asked from his wet bar that was set up near the fireplace.

  Before Blaine could even open his mouth, Dad clasped his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “No thanks, Dad. None for any of us.”

  Dad shot me a look that was somewhere between a forced smile and a wink. I had no idea what it meant, but I didn’t question it and just took a seat on the leather chaise next to Blaine.

  “Okay! It’s presents time!” Leslie clasped her hands together and did a little jump next to their large Christmas tree that was covered in an array of multi-colored ornaments with a large pile of gifts underneath it.

  Grandpa smiled and took a seat on the leather sofa next to Mom, Beth, and Brian. “Leslie is excited, because she took a class and decided to make a majority of your gifts.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “But don’t worry, you guys will still get your stack of cash as well.”

  Leslie swatted Grandpa’s arm before handing a silver, shoebox-size box to Beth. “Here you go. For both of you. Well, more like for little Luxxy!”

  “Thanks, Leslie,” Beth said.

  “And for you and Blaine,” Leslie said and handed me a large red box.

  “A couple’s gift?” Mom asked.

  Leslie shrugged. “Well, I guess you could say it’s just for Libby, but I figured they both could use it.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t question it. Slowly I unwrapped the bow and pulled back the paper. It was a Crate & Barrel box, but I had a feeling it wasn’t dishes inside if Leslie was making gifts.

  I stared at the pile of gold and purple yarn before pulling it out of the box and holding it open. “Oh, it’s an LSU blanket! That’s why it’s for both of us!”

  Leslie shook her head. “No. I mean, well, I didn’t plan it that way. It’s a fertility blanket.”

  “A what?” My dad’s eyes practically bugged out of his head.

  “It’s a blanket for couples. It’s supposed to bring them closer together for snuggling, bonding, and overall happiness. I made one for all of you!” Leslie beamed like she was saying the greatest thing in the world.

  I just stared at the blanket, my face feeling like a million degrees. I couldn’t even look at Blaine and wondered what his face looked like.

  “Dad, do you really think it’s appropriate that your wife is giving our nineteen-year-old, unmarried daughter a fertility blanket?” Dad yelled.

  “I’m right here! Don’t talk to me like I’m out of the room like you like to do. Thinking I’m some kind of gold digger for your dad!” Leslie snapped.

  “Well, if the shoe fits!”

  Grandpa put his arms out. “Both of you, stop. For one night, please just stop arguing.” Then he slowly slid over to the chaise, sitting next to me. He ran his hands over the blanket.

  “This was actually one that your Grandma started for you. Leslie found it in the hope chest and asked about it.” Grandpa ran his fingers over the soft material. “Grandma started one for you and your sister, when she got sick. She wanted to be sure that you had something to remember her by. She chose the color purple for our alma mater at Northwestern, but Leslie thought it might be better to go with Louisiana colors, since you’ve decided to stay in the south for awhile. Take the same footsteps as your Grandma did and follow your heart.”

  Grandpa looked up at me with tears brimming his brown eyes. “That’s why Leslie made the blanket.”

  “It’s wonderful. Thank you for telling me all that.” I wiped my eyes.

  “Thank you for keeping a part of your Grandma alive in Louisiana.”

  Chapter 22

  The next morning, I woke up before anyone else in the house. I definitely wasn’t used to that at Aunt Dee’s.

  It wasn’t because it was Christmas morning, and I was concerned about presents or Blaine meeting my other set of grandparents. There was something else. Something that had me up and scouring my parents’ cabinets and fridge until I found the ingredients I was looking for as well as the coffee.

  “Libby? What are you doing?” Mom’s sleepy voice called over the counter.

  I took a sip of my coffee and cut the last of the cinnamon roll loaf before placing it on the pan. I had found a recipe online for quick and easy ones and couldn’t believe my parents actually had the ingredients to make them.

  “Trying a new tradition: Christmas breakfast,” I said and turned back to the oven, placing the pan inside. “There’s also coffee made.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed. You really did get something out of all of that counseling,” Mom said and grabbed a mug from the cabinet before pouring a cup of coffee.

  “I don’t think the counselor taught me anything about cooking. That was all Aunt Dee. I didn’t even know the difference between white and brown sugar until I moved in and got a lecture on it.”

  Mom nodded slowly taking a sip of her coffee. “I guess your father was right about the whole southern belle thing not being bad.”

  I laughed. “That’s what Blaine says too.”

  “What does Blaine say now?”

  My ears perked up, and I turned around to see Blaine standing in the entryway to the kitchen. He was already showered and dressed in a navy sweater and dark wash jeans. It was the first time I’d seen the outfit, and I couldn’t help but thinking about how fast I could peel him out of the sweater. Of course, that definitely wouldn’t work with my parents home. They watched us like hawks, especially after the whole fertility blanket thing the night before.

  “He says that he’ll pour himself a cup of coffee, while we wait for his girlfriend’s cinnamon rolls to finish,” Mom said, giving me a knowing smile.

  “You baked? I thought all the Gentry’s didn’t cook,” he said and strolled to the other side of the counter, where Mom handed him a mug.

  “I guess there are exceptions to everything.” I smiled.

  His eyes glimmered, and he licked his lips. Damn, I wanted to kiss those lips so bad. This whole staying at the same place thing was great, but not so much when there was always someone in my family around.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today, Libby?” Blaine asked, knocking me out of my haze.

  “Oh, well, usually we have coffee, and Beth and Brian come over to open gifts then we go to my other grandpa’s. I think that’s still the plan.”

  Mom nodded. “Yep. Except this time we’ll actually have food instead of just coffee.”

  “Awesome.” Blaine smiled. “Can’t wait to see what my southern belle cooked.”

  ***

  Surprisingly the cinnamon rolls turned out not to suck and when my Dad woke up I was just getting them out of the oven. He may have been the most surprised to see the table set and ready for a home cooked breakfast as he barely talked and just chewed.

  I was helping my mom rinse off the plates when the front door opened.

  “Merry Christmas, everybody!” Beth’s cheery voice rang through the room.

  “Hey, Beth! Hey Brian!” I said and rinsed the last dish before putting it in the dish washer.

  “Annnnd, say hello to my Christmas gift,” Beth sang and pushed in a stroller that looked like it was straight out of old England with its pram styling. But this thing was definitely more modern with its leather interior and shiny brass wheels.

  “Did you seriously just bring your stroller without a baby in it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh, let her be, Lib. She’s excited!” Mom gushed and went over to investigate the new model.

  “It had the highest ratings on the internet and everything!” Beth squealed.

  “And it took me all morning to put together, so we figured we’d bring it over for a test drive,” Brian said, putting his arm around Beth like a proud papa.

  “Maybe someday I’ll get as excited as you all do for strollers,” I said.

  “But not for a long, long time,” Dad added.

  Brian laughed, probably too hard, and Blaine stayed silent at my side. I was just glad nobody brought up the ferti
lity blanket again, and we were able to move into the living room to open gifts.

  Ever since we were kids Beth and I had always fought over who was going to hand out the gifts. I couldn’t forget the Christmas when I was in grade school and Beth pushed me so hard that I knocked down the tree, got tangled in the lights, and electrocuted myself. We spent the rest of the day in the ER, and Beth was grounded for a month.

  We both went for the tree, while Dad, Mom, Blaine, and Brian sat on the leather sectional.

  Beth snatched the first gift up before I could get to it. “And this first one goes to Blainey Waney!” She giggled and tossed him the small package.

  He caught it easily and stared at it as if it were some sort of precious gem that he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to touch or not. “I-I-I didn’t know we were getting gifts,” he stuttered. “I didn’t even bring my gift for Libby, because I was going to give it to her at home.”

  Mom patted his knee. “It’s from us, honey. You don’t have to worry about getting us anything. We wanted to get this for you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, just open the gift, so I can fight Libby to hand out the next one,” Beth pouted.

  Blaine laughed slightly. “Okay.”

  He pulled back the snowman wrapping paper to reveal a small green box with a crown on it. He opened the box and his eyes widened like Easter eggs. “Holy...! Is this a Rolex?”

  Blaine took the titanium colored watch out of the box, never taking his eyes off of it.

  Mom nodded. “Yes. We noticed you didn’t really wear a watch, so we figured it would be the perfect gift for you.”

  I didn’t know a single guy that wore a watch. Not even my dad. It definitely wasn’t something that I thought of when I thought of Blaine.

  “Wow. This may be the nicest thing anyone has ever bought me. I’m not sure that I can accept it,” he said the last part almost in a whisper.

  “Blaine, you’ve been nothing but good to my daughter and our family. You may have had your ups and downs, but any man who will sit up with my daughter in the hospital all night, deserves something this nice.”

  Blaine nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, ma’am. I really do appreciate it.”

  She smiled. “And we really appreciate you.”

  ***

  After opening more gifts and cleaning up, we packed up the car again to head to my grandpa’s in the suburbs.

  While Dad’s dad decided to move to a townhouse when he married Leslie, Mom’s parents decided to keep the house that mom grew up in, even if they didn’t need something that big.

  If Blaine was confused about the townhouse community, he must have been really confused by the gated community that we needed to type a pass code in to enter.

  Dad drove his SUV down the maple lined street. Most of the snow had melted, and everything was just an ugly gray color. Winter was pretty during the first snowfall, but afterward it was just cold and miserable. Missing that was one of the many perks of living down south most of the time.

  We turned down a small street to the cul-de-sac where Grandma and Grandpa lived. Their brick house didn’t stand out amongst the other immaculate homes, but there was always something I liked about going there. Maybe it was their large backyard with all of the trees, or the fact that I used to think it was a castle with the high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and all of the large windows.

  As soon as we got out of the car, Beth and Brian pulled into the driveway.

  “Do you think she’s going to wheel that baby carriage into your grandparents?” Blaine whispered.

  I giggled and quickly covered my mouth. It would have looked ridiculous, not that it wouldn’t have looked any crazier than her pushing it in downtown Chicago. Luckily, she kept it in the car, and her and Brian walked up, sans stroller.

  The house wasn’t extravagantly decorated like Grandpa Gentry’s, but had a simple strand of icicle lights and a big green wreath on their double door entry way.

  As soon as the doorbell rang, Grandma was at the door. While Grandma Gentry did have a degree, she had stayed at home, raised the kids, and never went back to work. She was the grandma that did bake cookies and wear floral dresses.

  Grandma Smith was not that grandma. Her face was recently Botoxed, and her hair recently colored brown and swept into an updo that had to take at least an hour to achieve. Even though she cared about her appearance, and was known as a ball buster in the court room, she was still one of the most generous woman I’d ever met.

  “Libby!” She yelled as soon as she saw me and opened her arms.

  I gladly took her embrace. She was warm; her white sweater a rich and soft material. She smelled familiar, like expensive perfume.

  She let go of me and looked over my shoulder, as the rest of the family walked in. “And if this isn’t the infamous Blaine Crabtree. The southern Casanova who swept my granddaughter off of her feet!”

  “I guess that’s me, ma’am,” Blaine said and put his hand out for her.

  Grandma laughed. “None of this ma’am stuff, cowboy. You can call me Darlene. Or Grandma Smith. Or anything other than ma’am. Really.”

  “Darlene, are you already giving Libby’s new beau a hard time?” Grandpa’s deep voice bellowed from the stairwell.

  I looked up just as he walked from the loft down the wooden steps. It may be weird to say, but Grandpa looked really good for his age as well. I guess him and Grandma figured if they were going to be in the courtroom, and only had one daughter that had moved out of the house, then they might as well spend their money on Botox, tanning, and brown hair dye. It didn’t make them bad people, though. They worked their asses off to get where they were, and I always respected and admired that they still worked. While my other friends in school had grandparents that were retired or using walkers, mine were always the ones that people thought were my parents and not elderly. My grandparents always loved that.

  “Hi, Blaine. I’m Ronnie,” Grandpa said as soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs and gave Blaine a firm handshake.

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  Grandpa laughed. “Whew, that Cajun accent is thick on you. Not used to hearing that around here. I like it.”

  Mom put her hand on Grandpa’s shoulder. “All right, you guys, enough of giving Blaine a hard time. He’s had enough of that this weekend.”

  Grandma put her hands up. “Okay, okay. Let’s go into the dining room and have lunch. I’m sure you guys are starving!”

  “Actually, Libby made them breakfast this morning,” Beth said.

  Grandma and Grandpa’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of their heads.

  “Libby?” Grandma asked. “Was it edible?”

  “Yes. It was actually really good,” Dad said.

  Grandma laughed. “I remember when she was just a little thing, she got into the cabinets and tried frying some flour on the stove. It took weeks to scrub the burning smell out.”

  “Grandma, you don’t really need to tell that story,” I said through gritted teeth, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

  “No, go on. I like hearing these types of stories.” Blaine laughed and nudged my side.

  I glared at him.

  Grandma put her arm around his shoulders and led him toward the dining room. “Oh, if you think that’s a good one, have I got some stories for you!”

  I usually hated when my mom and sister ganged up on me to tell stories about me as a little girl, but for some reason when Grandma told Blaine about me, it was sentimental and made me start to think about the future and if I had a little girl, and what she would be like.

  Damn. That fertility blanket was getting to me.

  After a catered lunch from an Italian restaurant in town, we headed into the grand living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked onto the wooded backyard. Grandpa poured some coffee for everyone, and we took our seats among the different leather sectionals.

  “So, what are your p
lans for the rest of the week?” Grandma asked, sitting in her usual recliner. “Will you and Blaine be doing any sight-seeing.”

  I shook my head. “No. We’re actually leaving tomorrow.”

  “What? Why ever for?” She asked.

  “Oh. It’s my little cousin’s cotillion, and I’m her sponsor, so we need to be back for that.”

  Grandpa laughed, a loud hacking sound. “I never thought I’d see the day that our granddaughter really did become a southern belle. Cooking. Cotillion. This is something out of a movie.”

  “Dad,” Mom tested.

  He shook his head. “No. It’s not a bad thing. I think I like this new Libby Gentry.”

  Mom smiled and squeezed my knee. “Yeah. We like her too.”

  Chapter 23

  Mom and Dad decided to go together to drive us to the airport. They both had to work the day after Christmas, but they figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in later, especially to see us off.

  While Dad and Blaine unloaded our suitcases from the trunk, Mom and I stood on the sidewalk just outside the terminal doors.

  “We will definitely plan a trip to come visit. I’ll convince your father to take some time off work,” Mom said.

  “That would be great. I’d really like to see you all and show you around town. I mean, it’s not Chicago, but it has its own charm.”

  Mom sniffled. “This is a lot harder to say goodbye than I thought it would be.”

  I turned toward her, seeing the tears in her eyes. She didn’t have those when she first sent me to live with Great Aunt Dee, and I didn’t notice them the last time I left.

  “Mom.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. I’ll call as soon as we get there, and we can still talk every day.”

  “I know. It’s just different this time. You’re a different girl than the one who first went to Louisiana, and even more grown up than when I saw you a month ago in the hospital. It’s just hard to let go of that, and let you fly.”

  “Mom, I may be growing up, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t need your help now and then. Don’t think I’ll forget about you. Ever.”