Wild Wisteria

by Maddie Taylor

  His brothers and father all guffawed as he scowled at their lack of support. “You three simply don’t speak Micah.” He twisted his head to the side and bellowed, “Wisteria! Get in here.”

  Four sets of feminine heels came clacking down the hallway. When the women appeared in the doorway, searching the room for some sort of calamity, Wisteria’s worried gaze zeroed in on her smiling son, who was safely installed in Luke’s lap.

  “What on earth are you roaring about?”

  “He said da-da.”

  “He did?”

  “Oh, his first word,” Letty said with delight.

  “And I missed it?” Wisteria frowned.

  “Say it again, Micah,” Luke urged, as he held him up on his toes. “Say da-da. Da… Da.”

  “Be-ba-ca-ca-ge-ga.”

  The women laughed.

  Luke groaned. “Son, you’re making me out to be a liar. Help your dear old dad out, will ya?”

  “Da-da.” As if he understood, he said it plain as day and planted another wet kiss on Luke’s chin.

  Wisteria gasped. Luke knew his heart and soul were laid bare when he looked at her and watched her violet eyes fill with tears. The other women sniffled and dabbed at their wet cheeks.

  “My baby said his first word,” she breathed as she rushed to them, bent close, and placed a gentle kiss on Micah’s downy soft hair. Not satisfied with being left out, Luke curled a hand around her nape and eased her down further so he could receive the same on his parted lips. He lingered a bit too long for their boy’s liking evidently because he squealed shrilly next to both of their ears, “Ba-ba-da-da-da-da.”

  They drew apart laughing, joining the rest of the family, who were all entertained by the baby’s antics.

  * * *

  An hour later, while Micah obliged them by going down for a nap, Wisteria stared at the table laden with strange food. A kind of thin, flat bread called tortillas, a bowl of the thick green paste she’d mashed, now mixed with peppers and spices, another bowl of unappetizing squashed-up brown beans, and a sizzling skillet of browned ground beef seasoned with cumin, cayenne pepper, and other ingredients she couldn’t remember. It smelled wonderful, but Janelle was right, some of it closely resembled what they fed Lady, and slop for the hogs. The others must have thought so too because they all peered at each other skeptically as Janelle rushed in with a tray and four more bowls: one large one with small, triangular, deep-fried tortilla chips and three bowls of salsa.

  She set two in the middle of the table with the bowl of chips and another small bowl by her plate. Looking around at their confused faces, she smiled. “I suppose you need me to tell you what goes with what.”

  First, she demonstrated how to build the taco.

  “Take a tortilla and add a plop of meat, then top it with cheese and lettuce, or whatever other filling you choose. I’ve got refried beans, diced tomatoes, onions, and salsa on the table. Don’t fill it too full or it will spill all over you. Then you fold it.” She demonstrated this part before tilting her head to the side as she took a big bite.

  “Mm,” she groaned with her eyes shut, adding with a soft murmur, “Just like Taco Bell, only so much better.”

  “What do we do with these, Janelle?” Letty asked as she held up a chip.

  “They go with the dips. The salsa,” she dredged the fried chip in one of the bowls of red sauce, taking a lusty bite, “or the white queso.” She looked around. “Oops, I forgot the cheese dip,” she exclaimed, standing up. “Dig in, everyone, I’ll be right back.” She then rushed out.

  When she disappeared down the hall, Aaron encouraged, “I guess we should, as she said, dig in while it’s hot.”

  “Pizza and cheeseburgers were good, weren’t they?” Henry asked of no one in particular as he reached out and, imitating Janelle, also scooped a chip and promptly stuffed it whole in his mouth. “Mm,” he nodded as he chewed. “Crispy, salty, spicy, though not too much.” He reached for another.

  They all reached for chips, Aaron included, who liberally drenched his in the bowl by Janelle’s plate. He was popping it in his mouth when she walked back in.

  “Aaron, no!” she cried, arriving too late in the doorway. “That’s extra spicy salsa I made especially for me.”

  Immediately, he started to wheeze.

  She rushed forward. “That’s why I put it by my plate.”

  He coughed, his face turning red as he reached for his water. “No!” Once more, her warning came too late, for he was already chugging it down. “Water will only make the burning worse. You need milk.”

  “I’ll get it,” Letty said as she rushed out the door, while Aaron continued to choke and wheeze, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead.

  “Why is he reacting that way when none of the rest of us did?” Jenny asked. “Is it one of those allergies you spoke of?”

  “No, my salsa is special. With the baby, I’ve been craving spice. I used some of the habanero peppers from my garden. They’re super-hot.”

  As he coughed, Aaron’s face was blood red and appeared to be getting hotter. “My lips are burning,” he choked out.

  Luke and Heath started to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” Janelle said, shooting them each a fulminating glare.

  “Yeah, honey,” Heath chortled. “It is.”

  “Heath,” Jenny scolded, although her lips were beginning to twitch too.

  “As pa would say, his face is redder than a jaybird’s ass in pokeberry time.” His hoots of laughter rivaled his eldest brother’s.

  “Luke!” Wisteria admonished. “He looks like he’s in pain, or like his head is going to explode.”

  That sent the brothers into another laughing fit.

  “Boys,” Letty said as she rushed back in. “Laughing at your brother’s distress is not kind.”

  Aaron grabbed the glass from his mother’s hand and started to guzzle it down.

  “No,” Janelle warned, “swish it around in your mouth to let it neutralize the acid.”

  When he did as she’d instructed, he sat back and hissed air in and out of his mouth. “Damn, I’m on fire.” He suddenly turned to glare at his wife. “Did you do this on purpose because I spanked you this morning?”

  “No!” she cried, rearing back in surprise. “How could you think I would do such a thing?”

  “I believe your words,” he rasped, “while standing with your nose in the corner, were ‘expect it when you least expect it.’”

  Highly entertained at their little brother’s expense, the brothers burst out into great roars of laughter.

  Janelle glared at them first before turning her ire back on her red-faced husband. “I was kidding,” she clarified, her voice quivering with growing anger. “Although now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m sorry that I didn’t think of it first, you big jerk.”

  “Janelle.”

  She grabbed a chip and loaded it with the hot salsa from her bowl, popping it in her mouth. “See! I like spicy. That’s why I nurtured that hot pepper plant all winter long. It’s also why I spent all of yesterday making three kinds of salsa because I didn’t think everyone would like it quite as hot as me. Then for you to accuse me out of hand of such a mean-spirited trick—” She stopped mid-rant, obviously too upset to continue.

  Instantly regretting his accusation, Aaron stood. “Sweet pea, I’m sorry. It’s just after your comment this morning, what was I to think?”

  “You could think better of me, for one. Why would I retaliate with your family here and after I went to all this trouble? In my day, we like things hot. Not bland as cardboard. In my day, we have Texas Pete Hot Sauce, eat jalapeño peppers on pizza, and dip our chips in salsa so hot it’s called hellfire.” She scooped another chip and as she chewed, put her hands on her hips. “In my day, husbands appreciate the trouble their wives go to in order to make something special, because they’re evolved beyond Cro-Magnon man, you big horse’s ass.”

  “Janelle,” Aaron warned, clearly having reached
his threshold for sass. “I’ve apologized. Don’t push it.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, Janelle, but what do you mean in your day? Did you travel back in time from the future or something?” As one, every head swiveled Wisteria’s way and an awkward silence settled over the room.

  To her horror, Janelle’s hands flew to her mouth and her face crumpled. “Excuse me,” she uttered, choking back a sob as she rushed out of the room.

  Aaron hurried to follow his distraught wife. “Eat, everyone. We’ll be back as soon as I eat a goodly sized slice of humble pie.”

  Wisteria felt wretched. Having been mystified by Janelle’s peculiarities for some time now, she’d felt compelled to pose the innocent question. She’d also been trying to ease the tension with a little joke, which had failed miserably. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

  “I think Aaron did that well enough on his own, darlin’,” Luke assured.

  “Yep, little brother had boot treads all over his tongue,” Heath added.

  “You didn’t help the situation, husband,” Jenny cut in.

  “No, and I’m sorry Janelle got so upset, but you have to admit, Aaron’s face was hotter than a depot stove.”

  “And he was sweating like a horse in heat.”

  “Henry!”

  “What? I coulda said sweating like a whore in church, instead I refrained outta respect for you ladies.”

  “I swan, Henry,” Letty declared. “You are impossible.”

  “Well, it’s not my fault Luke already used jaybird’s ass.”

  Wisteria ignored their banter, focusing on what had made Janelle so distraught. Was it her fuss with Aaron? No, she’d been going nose to nose with her husband, who’d been in wrong. Could it have been the question she posed, or her jest? Perhaps she’d been too close to home, or… right on the button.

  “But it’s not possible,” she said under her breath, then restated more loudly, “Surely it can’t be true.” Bemused, she looked to husband with the hope he could shed some light. “Luke?”

  He hesitated, glancing at Heath, who shifted in his seat, equally ill at ease. In turn, he gazed at Letty, who cast wide eyes upon Henry. Unfazed, the eldest Jackson promptly asked, “What’s for dessert?”

  “Henry!” Letty admonished once again.

  “Stop Henry-ing me, Leticia. I’d rather talk about dessert than how Janelle popped in on us outta the blue, smack dab in the middle of Meyer’s woods with no rational explanation other than the lot of us are daft from having our brains baked out in the Wyoming sun for too darn long.”

  “Popped in?” Why Wisteria keyed in on that phrase amongst all of Henry’s nonsensical rant was beyond her. “She speaks with such an odd turn,” Wisteria said, almost as if to herself. “And she knows more about healing than anyone I’ve ever known. I thought she was simply well-educated when she knew about the herbs, but those strange, colorful capsules she crushed up for Micah’s medicine, and the plaster cast she made for Henry’s leg… I’ve seen people permanently lame after such a break. Look at Henry, he’s up and about in a matter of weeks.” She gaped up at Luke in amazement. “It seems unthinkable, although it makes sense. She really is from the future. Isn’t she?”

  “It’s something we try to keep within the family,” Aaron said from the doorway, with a teary-eyed Janelle on his arm.

  “I can’t explain it myself, Wisteria,” she said softly. “Except to say, I’m here; the Jacksons took me when I had nowhere to turn and made me feel like one of their own.” Tipping her face up to Aaron with a sad little smile, she added, “And now they’re stuck with me.”

  “Which we wouldn’t have any other way, darlin’.” He wiped a tear from her cheek and kissed where it had been.

  “I’m sorry for my outburst, everyone. The baby is making me a little emotional.” Her searching gaze paused on Wisteria. “And I’m sorry for freaking you out.”

  Wisteria smiled in reassurance. “Your odd speech was a strong clue that something wasn’t quite right, but I’ll allow the truth rather boggles the mind.”

  “Well,” Henry exclaimed. “Now that’s settled, let’s get back to the subject of dessert?”

  “The world could be coming to an end and my husband would still wonder where his next meal was coming from,” Letty said as she woefully held her head in her hand.

  “What?” he asked, not understanding why Letty sounded offended. He posed his next question to Janelle. “Is there dessert, gal?”

  “Of course.”

  His head swung back and he frowned at his wife. “So what’s the problem?”

  “At least the boys learned some manners,” she sighed heavily.

  “I made apple cinnamon empanadas.” Janelle announced, as Aaron seated her at the table. “It’s like a turnover, Henry, you’ll love it. First, let me show you how to make loaded beef nachos.” Adeptly, she deflected her dinner guests from more drama, as clearly they’d had enough. Wisteria eyed her sister-in-law with equal parts awe and admiration, determined to get the full story at some later date. How she’d stand not knowing until that time arrived, she wasn’t quite certain.

  “Later, darlin’,” Luke, ever observant, whispered in her ear. “I’ll fill you in on the details as I know them.”

  Satisfied for the time being, her nod was barely perceptible as she picked up the odd taco with her fingers and took a tentative bite. The flavors were explosive and she, along with the others, gobbled up every single morsel.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Do you have your list, darlin’?” They were standing on the front porch waiting for the wagon to come down the lane.

  Usually, Luke took her to town and handled the purchases, but it was branding time and he couldn’t get away. He’d enlisted the aid of Martin Haskins, a trusted neighbor, who was taking his wife to the dressmaker’s shop and was kind enough to let Wisteria tag along for her final fitting. Micah was in the care of his grandmother for the day, giving Wisteria the rare opportunity for an outing without him.

  She patted her pocket for the fifth time at least. “My shopping list is right here along with the money you gave me.”

  “Put everything on my account at Ivinson’s and tell Byron, the store manager, I’ll be around to settle up the first of the week. Use the cash at Mrs. Mayhew’s. I’ll set up an account with her soon so you don’t have to carry so much money around.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “Wisteria, we’ve been over this. You came to me with practically nothing and the few things ma has had time to make up for you aren’t enough. Besides, you need something pretty to wear to the last summer barn dance. I’m looking forward to dancing every waltz and Virginia reel with the prettiest girl in town.”

  As the wagon rolled to a stop, he greeted the Haskinses before lifting her up into the back where Jenny sat. “Don’t let her skimp on her dress for the dance, Jenny. She’s got that penny-pinching look about her that says wool and calico instead of taffeta and lace.” Gazing upon his bride, he smiled, murmuring softly, “I like taffeta and lace. If you didn’t order something like that from Mrs. Mayhew already, get one at Ivinson’s and put it on our account.” With a wink that garnered a giggle from Jenny and a becoming blush from his wife, he moved up to shake Martin’s hand and to thank him again before waving them off. As soon as they were in motion, he was striding toward the barn.

  As Wisteria stared after him, she frowned. She hadn’t come to him with nothing and that secret, which she kept conveniently pushing from her mind, seeped in to nag at her conscience.

  “Why the long face, sister? This is a shopping trip with no male naysayers, it should be fun.”

  Facing front, she realized Jenny had been watching her closely from the opposite bench seat. She latched onto the first convenient excuse.

  “Please tell me they have ready-mades at Ivinson’s, because what I ordered from Mrs. Mayhew…”

  “Was all calico and wool, I’m guessing?”

  She groaned. �
��I can cook passably and only burn the bread once a week now. I’ve also learned the difference between a weed and seedlings in my garden. Send me off to the river for a mess of trout for supper or to bag a duck if you’ve a taste for it, but when it comes to sewing a straight hem or mending a torn seam, I’m all thumbs.”

  “Don’t fret about that. Ivinson’s has a good selection of ready-made dresses. We’ll be able to do you up right.”

  Wisteria relaxed visibly. “Thank goodness. I’d hate to slap something together only to pull a loose thread at the dance and have my whole dress unravel right there before the whole town.”

  Jenny laughed. “What a sight that would be.”

  She dropped her face in her hands and moaned. “That’s nothing. Luke says he wants to waltz with me.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s awful!” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t. Oh, what was I thinking?”

  “Why ever not?”

  “I’m not only cursed with two left thumbs, it extends to my feet. My poor papa tried to teach me, but I stomped his toes so many times he declared I was hopeless. And Luke mentioned something about a reel. That’s one of those fast dances. I’ll fall flat on my face.”

  “The Jackson boys are the best dancers in town, honey. Luke won’t let you embarrass yourself. Besides, you’re so little and light, he’ll practically carry you through a reel.” Her hand fell to her rounded belly. “I’ll be lumbering around like an old heifer by then, I’ll be lucky if they don’t brand me by mistake.”

  That made Wisteria laugh. “What nonsense. You’re barely showing. You and Janelle will float around the dance floor like fairies and I’ll be your troll of a sister-in-law who stomps on toes.”

  “Get Luke to bring you by this weekend. I’ll play piano for you while he gives you a few lessons.”

  “I don’t know, he’s so busy.”

  “Then I’ll get Henry. He won’t sit still now that his cast is off and you haven’t seen the new house since we moved in. I’ll invite Janelle in case any injured toes need bandaging.”