Dixie Belle

by Debby Mayne

  Something was going on, and it wasn’t all rainbows and Skittles.

  “Cissy.” Aunt Bootsie came toward her with open arms, beaming as though she’d just seen a newborn baby. “So how was your first day at the office?”

  Forgive me, Lord, for this little white lie.

  Cissy forced a smile. “Wonderful. I have a lot to learn, but Dave is helping me learn the ropes.”

  Aunt Bootsie scowled at Uncle Forest. “You didn’t stick her with Dave.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bootsie. Dave is one of the finest people I have working at Zippers Plus.”

  “He’s also your least productive salesman.”

  “You don’t think I’d take valuable time from my best salesperson to train her, do you? That would put us out of business.”

  Whoa. Based on the harshness of his tone, it sounded like there might be more than one issue here. Time for a little intervention.

  Cissy dug deep and forced a lilt to her voice. “We had a very productive day. I spent all morning studying the different items we carry. I had no idea there was so much to learn about this business. Dave has been so good about answering my questions.” She chattered as quickly as she could, elaborating on some of the minutest details of what she could remember from the manual Dave had made.

  Uncle Forest rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’ll leave the small talk to you ladies.”

  “Supper is almost ready,” Aunt Bootsie said. “Go wash up.”

  “Let me know when you want me in the kitchen.” With that he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Cissy standing with a very irritated Bootsie.

  Aunt Bootsie sighed, shuddered, and forced a smile. “So what do you think of New York?”

  Cissy swallowed hard. “It’s very big . . . and old.” She scrunched her face before adding, “And smelly.”

  Aunt Bootsie laughed as she took a step toward the kitchen. “Good observation. C’mon, you can tell me more while I finish gettin’ supper cooked.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothin’. Why don’t you just sit down? You’ve been working hard all day.” Aunt Bootsie stopped and looked at something on the table. “On second thought, would you mind straightening up the placemats? Forest left his all catawampus this morning when he got up, and I didn’t get around to fixing it.” She made a tsk-ing sound with her tongue. “I declare, sometimes that man acts like he has a team of servants at his disposal.”

  Cissy bit her tongue. If Aunt Bootsie said one more thing, she wasn’t so sure she could hold back.

  “Ever since he recovered from losing his biggest accounts, you’d think his middle name was Zipper. That’s all he ever cares about anymore.”

  That did it. Cissy couldn’t keep biting her tongue with World War III about to erupt. “Why are you so mad at Uncle Forest?”

  Aunt Bootsie froze, a large stirring spoon poised in midair above the pot. She slowly turned around and faced Cissy. “Don’t tell me he got to you first.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, did he tell you how I don’t care about the business that puts food on the table? Or that I don’t listen to him anymore, when all he does is rattle on and on about zippers this, buttons that? Or about the latest greatest thing in thread?” Her jaw tightened. “I bet he said I desert him every Sunday morning and run off to church when all he wants to do is sit here, chug coffee by the potful, and bury his nose in the newspaper.”

  Cissy slowly shook her head as she rose from the table. “No, he never said any of that. All he said was—” She stopped herself but realized she’d already said too much.

  “What did he say?” Aunt Bootsie had turned all the way around, still holding the spoon like a weapon.

  “He just said y’all were excited to have me here when we saw you standing on the porch.” Cissy held her breath, hoping that would work. At least it wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

  “Well, that’s true . . . at least for me.”

  Cissy seized the opportunity to turn the tables. “So are you saying he didn’t want me here?”

  “No, I’m not saying that at all.” Aunt Bootsie turned back around a little too quickly. “It’s just that—”

  “Are you the one who insisted I come?” Cissy asked.

  “Well . . . ” Aunt Bootsie’s shoulders sagged. “Sort of. I just told your mama that there’s no point in you havin’ to go through all that scuttlebutt around Hartselle when we have this big old house goin’ to waste. Besides, it’s time for him to face the fact that what happened to him in Hartselle wasn’t his problem. I’m sorry you went through so much with Spencer, but it did serve to let Forest know the problem lies with the McCullys and not him.”

  Good thing Uncle Forest told her what happened. “But what about the job? Does Uncle Forest not need another salesperson?”

  “Oh, he needs another salesperson, all right. In fact he’s been interviewing for the past month. Everyone who’s any good wants too much money, though, so I told him this was perfect. He could train you his way, and you could stay here in the house with us, so you wouldn’t expect such a high salary.”

  Cissy didn’t mind being cheap labor as much as she did being the game piece in whatever was going on between her aunt and uncle. But now wasn’t the time to say that.

  Silence fell over the kitchen, with the exception of a clanging spoon and the shuffling of Aunt Bootsie across the floor as she filled serving dishes. Cissy straightened the placemats, found the flatware, and arranged it on the table.

  When everything appeared almost ready, Cissy went to the door. “I’ll let Uncle Forest know supper’s ready.” Aunt Bootsie didn’t say anything, so Cissy scurried out to the living room to get him.

  First thing he said when he entered the kitchen was, “Looks good, Bootsie. I sure do miss your good old-fashioned home cooking.”

  Aunt Bootsie gave him a look that could stop a bear. “Don’t expect me to do this every day, Forest. You know what your doctor said.”

  He waved his hands in dismissal. “What does that doctor know? He’s never had good ol’ Alabama cookin’.”

  “Are you sick?” Cissy asked.

  “His cholesterol is twice what it should be, so I’ve started making low-fat meals.”

  “If a stranger dropped by on a normal day, he’d think we’d gone all vegetarian.”

  “That’s not true, Forest, and you know it. Someone’s gotta look after your health.” She cleared her throat. “You certainly don’t.”

  One look at the platter of ham and bowls filled with fatlaced veggies let Cissy know that wasn’t the case tonight. “I think everyone is trying to cut back the fat,” she said slowly. “Even in Alabama.”

  Uncle Forest sat down and pounded his fist on the edge of the table. “That’s ridiculous. People in my family have been eating that way forever, and they live as long as anyone up here.”

  “That’s because you come from a family of farmers. They used to work hard in the fields all day, so they didn’t have to worry about all that fat,” Aunt Bootsie argued. She glanced over at Cissy. “In case you’re wondering, this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

  Obviously. “I understand.” Cissy didn’t want this to go on, so she decided to take her aunt’s side for health’s sake, even though she totally understood where her uncle was coming from. “I’ve been trying to eat healthier too, especially since Aunt Mona had her heart attack.” Aunt Mona was the youngest of her grandmother’s sisters.

  “Aunt Mona is dern near ninety years old,” Uncle Forest bellowed.

  Okay, so Aunt Mona wasn’t the best example, but that was the best Cissy could come up with at the moment. “I still think it’s a good idea to do what we can to stay healthy. The good Lord gave us these bodies, so we should take care of them.”

  “Amen,” Aunt Bootsie said as she sat down, still glaring at her husband.

  “That’s nonsense,” he said between clenc
hed teeth. “All those health nuts have poisoned everyone’s minds. They’re miserable because they munch on cardboard, and they’re trying to bring all of us down with them.”

  “Cissy, honey, go ahead and help yourself.” Aunt Bootsie lifted a basket of rolls dripping in butter. “Have some bread.”

  Even though she loved this kind of food, she knew she’d pay for it later, so she took a roll knowing she wouldn’t eat more than one or two bites of it. But she had to be polite and do whatever it took to lower the tension.

  Frustration welled in Cissy’s chest. It seemed that no matter what she said, it angered her uncle or brought up a rift between him and her aunt. But not saying anything was awkward, so she decided to talk about the only thing she figured was safe.

  “Where do y’all go to church?”

  “That’s it. I’m outta here.” Uncle Forest stood up so quickly his chair almost fell over before he caught it. After shoving it back in place, he stormed out of the kitchen.

  “Wh-what just happened?” Cissy looked from the doorway back to her aunt.

  “I think you just hit on the heart of everything that’s gone wrong with your uncle,” Aunt Bootsie said. “Ever since Sewing Notions Inc. stole his biggest accounts, he’s been a very angry man. And the one he’s the angriest at is the Lord for letting it happen.”

  “But—”

  “He hasn’t been to church in several years.”

  That sure explained a lot. “How about you?”

  “I go most Sundays, but I sometimes feel like I’m being rebellious because it seems to bug Forest when I leave him behind.” Aunt Bootsie lowered her head. “I pray for him all the time, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

  Cissy remembered feeling that way not long ago, when she realized she was in a no-win relationship with Spencer. Mama had said the Lord was listening to her prayers, and He would answer them as He saw fit. It wouldn’t necessarily be what she expected or even wanted, but it would be what was best for her. And here she was, all the way up in New York City.

  Aunt Bootsie cleared her throat, but the tears still lingered in her eyes. “Some of the men from the church even stopped by to talk to him, but he refused to come out of our room. I reckon there’s nothin’ anyone can do to change his mind.”

  “I’ll pray for him too, but in the meantime I’d like to hear about your church.”

  A smile crept over her aunt’s face as she talked about the energy of the pastor, the loving spirit in the church, and the endless opportunities to get involved in mission work. “We have overseas missions and programs to help the needy right here in our own backyard.”

  “Sounds good.”

  A shadow fell over the kitchen, letting them know they weren’t alone. A softer expression came over Aunt Bootsie’s face. “Hey, Forest. Ready for dessert?”

  Cissy heard the quiver in her aunt’s voice, but otherwise she appeared normal. As soon as she thought she had things figured out, another element of contention flew into the mix. Maybe the Lord had brought her to New York for more than one reason.

  He sat down and nodded but didn’t say a word. His silence said more than words would ever be able to.

  Cissy looked over at her aunt. “Need help?”

  “No, sweetie, it’s a one-person job. Why don’t you just have a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.” Aunt Bootsie scurried around pulling out plates, slicing the cake, and putting it on the table.

  Cissy was full from supper, but she didn’t want to appear rude. She took a small bite of the chocolate cake with buttercream icing. “This is delicious.”

  The cake really was good. As full as she was, she managed to polish off what was on her plate, and she had to exercise self-restraint when Aunt Bootsie offered more.

  After Uncle Forest finished his, he stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “Why don’t you ladies go on to the living room? I’ll clean up.”

  Cissy flashed a look in her aunt’s direction. Aunt Bootsie nodded and gestured toward the door. “We’ll most certainly take you up on that.”

  Once they were out of hearing range of the kitchen, Cissy stopped. “Does he normally clean up?”

  “Only when he feels bad about something.” Aunt Bootsie gave her a motherly squeeze. “This is his way of apologizing for acting like such a clod.”

  Cissy giggled. “You could get a lot of mileage out of that.”

  “Trust me, I would if I didn’t think it would seem like schemin’.” Aunt Bootsie sighed. “I don’t think the Lord is fond of schemin’ and deception, but I can’t say I haven’t been tempted.”

  Cissy realized she’d just learned more about her aunt and uncle in the past hour than she’d known all her life. Even the best relationships sure could be complex.

  “Why don’t you go to bed early tonight?” Aunt Bootsie said. “I’m sure you’re exhausted after your first day, and you’ll be gettin’ up with the chickens tomorrow.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You are now, but that’s only because Forest let you sleep in this morning.”

  “Sleep in?” Cissy narrowed her eyes. “We were the first ones there.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s normally out of here before the sun comes up.” Aunt Bootsie gave her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think he plans on spoilin’ you at the risk of missin’ out on business.”

  Cissy groaned.

  Chapter 6

  CISSY SET THE alarm on her cell phone extra early to prevent upsetting Uncle Forest. Good thing she did too because he’d already finished his breakfast by the time she got to the kitchen. He took one look at her, grunted, shook his head, and left her alone with Aunt Bootsie.

  “Is he mad at me?”

  “No.” Aunt Bootsie leaned around and checked the door. “He’s always rather quiet first thing in the morning. Don’t let him get you down, Cissy. By the time he gets to the office, he should be just fine.” She smiled. “Just try not to say too much on the way in. He likes his quiet time.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.” Cissy’s nature would have had her babbling all the way in, like she did yesterday, so now she knew to make a concerted effort to be quiet.

  Aunt Bootsie was right. Uncle Forest didn’t say more than a half dozen words all the way in. If she hadn’t known what to expect, she would have tried to force conversation.

  As they left the parking garage, Cissy spotted Tom entering the office building next to Zippers Plus. Uncle Forest shot her a look that let her know he’d seen Tom too, but he didn’t say a word. She looked down, pretended not to have noticed, and continued walking.

  An hour later Dave walked into the office. The smile on his face beat all. “Good morning, everyone.”

  “Everyone?” Cissy chuckled. “It’s just you, me, and my uncle.”

  “That’s all that really matters.” He walked over to Cissy’s desk in the corner, dropped a long-stemmed red rose on it, and with his back to Uncle Forest, ran his fingers over his lips, indicating that she needed to keep hers zipped. “So glad you made it back for your second day at work.”

  “For me?” Cissy whispered. She looked at the flower but didn’t touch it.

  “I put it on your desk, didn’t I?” He whispered back as he made a face. “Of course it’s for you.”

  “Thank you.” Cissy lifted it, took a sniff, and put it back down when she realized it didn’t have a smell. She looked up at him and raised her voice. “What are you so happy about?”

  He feigned shock. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m like this every day?”

  Uncle Forest stuck his head around the half-wall that separated him from the bullpen. “That’s exactly what she’s saying.” He got up and joined them. “What’s this all about?” Cissy knew exactly the moment her uncle saw the rose when his eyes bulged, and his face turned a fiery shade. “Who gave you that?”

  Cissy pointed to Dave. “He did.”

  “Oh.” Uncle Forest let out a sigh. “I guess that’s okay.” He switched his attention to
Dave. “So why the cheery disposition? Did you finally meet a nice girl?”

  “Maybe.” Dave glanced down at Cissy and gave her a flirty smile.

  Uncle Forest pulled back and wagged his finger. “Oh no ya don’t. You know I don’t allow my employees to date each other.”

  Cissy started to argue, but Dave made a hand signal to shush that only she could see at his side. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but if Cissy and I discover that we have something special between us, would you deny us the opportunity to get to know each other better?” Before Uncle Forest could answer, he continued. “She’s such a beautiful woman, you can’t expect her to sit home every night. And wouldn’t it be nice to know something about the person she’s with? I just happen to find her extremely attractive.” He paused as he looked over at Cissy and then turned back to her uncle. “Can you blame me?”

  His comments rendered Cissy totally speechless. She hadn’t seen that one coming.

  Uncle Forest frowned as he pondered the thought. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “I would never want to do anything against your wishes, Mr. Counts, but I would be honored to take your niece out to dinner one night this week.”

  “Wait just one minute.” Cissy stood, holding her hands up, shushing both men. “No one ever asked me what I want.”

  Dave sat down at his desk that was only a few feet from Cissy’s and gave her an exaggerated look of apology. “I’m so sorry, Cissy. It’s just that I was overcome with—”

  “I suppose I’m okay with one dinner, but that’s it until I have a chance to discuss this with my wife . . . and her mother.” Without waiting for another word from Cissy or Dave, Uncle Forest took off toward the elevator, which immediately opened when he pushed the button.

  The second they were alone, Cissy widened her eyes and glared at Dave. “What in the world was that all about?”