by Erynn Mangum
Ruby hums her agreement. “And avoiding the subject.”
“She likes him,” Hannah sing-songs.
“Who likes him?” Brandon asks, walking in and shedding his coat.
“Laurie likes Ryan,” Ruby announces.
“I do not!”
“And he likes her,” Hannah purrs.
Brandon’s eyebrows climb on his forehead, and his lips get very tight. He makes a hmm sound in the back of his throat.
It is all I can do to not burst out laughing.
Poor Brandon. I am mean.
“Could I see you in my office, please?” He jerks his thumb down the hall.
I follow. Once the door closes behind me, he whirls.
“Lauren Holbrook, you amaze me.” He leans against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Why?”
“I thought you weren’t getting married.”
Haven’t we had this discussion before?
“People change sometimes, Brandon. Besides, it’s not like I’m marrying the guy. I only just met him, for Pete’s sake!”
“What about Hannah? I thought you were trying to set her up with Ryan.”
I shrug. “Guess I had an Emma moment.”
Brandon stares at me quizzically.
“Never mind.” I know better than to tread the thick, muddied waters of explaining romantic comedies to a “shoot ’em up, blow ’em up, clean ’em up” movies kind of guy.
“Look, Laurie, I just don’t want either of you to get hurt.” He pulls me into a hug.
Aw. Unexpectedly, I start getting choked up. Add to that the humongous load of pure, solid guilt landing with a resounding oomph! on my back.
“Thanks, Brandon,” I sniff, rubbing my face on his shirt.
He pushes me back, grimacing. “Here.” Hands me a Kleenex.
I blow my nose, quite loudly, and he grins. “I must admit, though, I pity the poor man.”
“Shut up.” I miss the trash can by two inches.
“What’s with the hair today?” He pokes it for good measure.
“I was tired this morning.”
“Uh-huh. I can tell. You look like you brushed it with a fork.”
“Worked for Ariel.”
“Doesn’t work for you. I like it better straight.”
I sigh. Between my dad’s compliments and Brandon’s insults, it’s no wonder I’m the emotional roller coaster I am.
At three forty-five, after six families, a cheeseburger, three Dr. Peppers, two lattes, and four Milky Ways, I finally get around to ordering the barbecue.
“Smith Valley Barbecue.” I can hear the buzz of people talking and laughing and little kids yelling behind the exhausted female voice.
“I need to place an order for Saturday.”
Smith Valley Barbecue is the best in town, and it’s no secret. Just the fact that I have to put in an order two days in advance attests to this.
“Okay, go ahead.”
I rattle off the order.
“What’s the pick-up time?”
“Eleven thirty.”
“Name?”
“Laurie Holbrook.”
“Phone number?”
I give her both my home and cell numbers.
“Thank you.”
Friday night I open my Bible to Philippians 2 and I’m about to turn back a few pages to Ephesians 4, where I left off, when the word purpose catches my attention. I back up to verses 12 and 13. “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed — not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence — continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.”
Here’s what I don’t like: Working out. I figure I’m twenty-three and my metabolism is plenty high without anything extra, so why mess with a good thing?
So if I don’t know how to work out physically, what on earth does it mean to work out my salvation?
Saturday I wake up to my alarm clock and come very close to tears. My day — one of my only days for sleeping in — is ruined.
All is lost.
Here’s what I like: Overdramatizing.
I pludge down the stairs in my pajamas. Dad sits at the table, calmly reading the newspaper.
He looks up. “Morning, Honey. Coffee is in the pot.”
“Mmm.”
“Lexi called. She and Nate will be over about eleven.”
“Mmm.”
“And I changed the cartridges in all the wall units. Kids, you know.”
I slump into the chair with my coffee. A few years ago, Dad got the brilliant idea of getting plug-in air fresheners and replacing the liquid with a home-based solution of air sanitizer, germ purifier, and a tart, tangy scent I believe is Pine-Sol. I don’t want to know. This is the reason people walk into our house and get that weird wrinkle above their noses.
Four cups of coffee later, I’m on the fringe of waking up. Dad looks at the clock over the oven. “Come on, Laurie-girl. We’ve got an hour and a half to get things ready.”
Not sure what we’re getting ready. This is Lexi and Laney we’re talking about. They only used to live here.
“I’ll go fix my hair.”
He nods, sipping his lemongrass tea.
Yucky.
As disgusting as lemongrass tea is when you’re awake, it’s triple gross when you’re half-asleep. The aroma wafting to your nose. Blegh.
I wonder if I can move my bedroom to the back corner of a Starbucks.
As I blow my hair dry, I try working on my wide-eyed look of amazement. It will come into play:
When Laney announces Baby Number 4, christened “Lauren Junior Knox”
When Ryan Palmer asks me out in front of Nick on Sunday
When Mr. Darcy proposes next week
It is a good thing I am not a spy. I don’t possess the gift of fine theater.
Lexi and Nate ring the doorbell at eleven sharp. That’s Nate for you. Lexi is like me, as in “Time? What’s time?” Nate can be a drill sergeant.
I open the door and immediately get a huge hug from both of them at the same time.
“Whoa!” I yell.
Lexi laughs and pulls back. “Honey, we’ve missed you.” She bends down to rub a ballistic Muffin’s ears.
I grin at Nate. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Lex, when it’s my turn for a two-and-a-half-week honeymoon, I guarantee I won’t miss you.”
Nate grins at me. “Good girl.”
Lexi is beautiful. Of the three of us, she got most of the looks. Laney’s pretty, but Lexi is gorgeous.
Nate’s nice-looking, but it’s more in the “Hi, I’m Nate, young and upcoming stockbroker” look. Short brown hair parted precisely. Brown eyes. He’s taller than Lexi, but not by much. Dresses like a magazine photographer could show up on the doorstep at any moment.
They walk over to greet Dad, and I’m closing the door when Laney and Adam pull up in their Explorer.
Dorie races up the steps to give me a hug.
I squeeze her tight, smelling her watermelon-scented shampoo. “Hey there, Favorite Niece.”
“Hi,” she exclaims. “Look, I grewed a whole fourth of an inch. Auntie Lexi!” She spots my sister and runs for her.
Jess and Jack are next inside, one held by Adam and one held by Brandon.
“Hey, Laurie,” Adam greets me, kissing my cheek. “You look great.”
“Thanks. Where’s Laney?”
“Right behind us.” Adam sets Jess down, who immediately grabs my leg. “She’s primping, or whatever women do.”
He rolls his eyes. Adam and Brandon could be clones.
“Hiya.” Brandon smiles, releasing Jack, who grabs my other leg.
Standing is becoming an issue.
“Hey, boys.” I pat the top of their blond heads awkwardly. Circulation slows in my legs.
Brandon watches them, grinning, and then grabs my arm. “Auntie Lauren! Auntie Lauren!”
Laney walks in. “Okay, you can all pla
y with Lauren later.” She chucks each of the three monkeys on the cheek.
Jack and Jess move on to Lexi’s legs, and Brandon wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Well, Nutsy, here we are at the first non-wedding-related, official family lunch of the new year.” He says this in broadcaster-like tones.
I shake my head at him. “Oh brother.”
“Tell me, Lauren Holbrook, how do you feel about this situation?” He shoves an invisible microphone in my face.
“Difficult to say.” I give my best impersonation of Elizabeth Bennett. “Will there be dessert involved?”
“Most definitely.”
“And coffee?”
“A staple in this household,” Brandon assures me.
“Then I feel wonderful.”
All the members of the family above the age of seven sit in the living room. I hesitate to use the word adults because that wouldn’t include Brandon or me. In this family, adulthood is not reached until after matrimony.
I still hold a place of honor at the kids’ table.
“So how was the honeymoon?” I ask.
Nate grins boyishly. “Great. Europe was gorgeous, but it paled in comparison to my bride.”
Lexi blushes.
My appetite packs up and leaves. Must change subject. “And what about the European guys?” I look at Lexi.
She starts laughing convulsively. “I found you someone, Baby.”
“Oh boy.” Nate covers his face.
“Tell me, tell me,” I beg.
Lexi brushes her hair out of her face. “Okay. So we’re in London and we stopped to get something to eat at this little sandwich shop. Hole in the wall, really. And the waiter —”
“I like waiters,” I interrupt.
“And the waiter was very good-looking,” Lexi says, embellishing with her voice. “I mean, very good-looking. Anyway, Nate hadn’t gone in with me because he wanted to take a picture of the place, so I decided this was my chance to pick up someone for you, Honey.”
Nate sighs.
“I went up to the counter and ordered two sandwiches and opened my wallet and slid your picture out accidentally —”
“Accidentally, my foot,” Nate says.
“And I asked him what he thought of you.”
“You didn’t.” Brandon shakes his head.
“Yes, I did,” Lexi says proudly. “And he said, ‘Yeah, she’s pretty cute.’” She says this in a perfect Texan accent.
“Lex, that’s not an English accent.”
“Baby, I know. This guy had moved to London from Texas. I went all the way to Europe to find you a husband, and all I got was some American guy who can make a mean turkey sandwich.”
I exhale dramatically. “I seem doomed to singleness, I guess.”
Brandon shoots me a sideways look. “What about Ryan?”
Uh-oh.
Five heads turn and ten eyeballs stare. I shrink against the sofa. I suddenly feel the rare and specific need for the security blanket I had when I was five.
Brandon, meanwhile, grins in total ecstasy.
Here’s what I am going to do: Kill Brandon Michael Knox, resurrect him from the dead, and kill him again.
Chapter Thirteen
(Scene: Semi-darkness. The house is lit only in candlelight; the family is gathered around a roaring fire.)
BRANDON: (with evil intent) What is this I hear about you and Ryan, Laurie?
FAMILY: (in unison) Yes! Tell us, O Fair One!
LAUREN: (an innocent blush upon her cheeks) Why, whatever do you mean?
BRANDON: (menacing) I think you know.
(Suddenly, the front door blows open with the force of one’s hand and the whistling wind. Snow gathers in the entry)
FAMILY: (in unison) Harken! Who comes at such an hour?
RYAN: (enters) I do!
(He goes to Laurie and kneels at her feet)
LAUREN: Do not fret, I can tie my own shoes.
(As he kneels, he pulls a velvet box from his pocket. A single solitaire set in platinum sparkles)
LAUREN: (gasps)
RYAN: Laurie, my love, will you marry me?
LAUREN: Of course, my pet.
(Rapturous, the couple kisses)
FAMILY: (in unison) What a wondrous day! Declare a national holiday!
Okay, so it isn’t the most realistic, but anything would be better than what does happen.
I blush furiously, Brandon grins cockily, Lexi and Laney look like a pair of pleased pigeons, Nate and Adam exchange “hmm” glances, and Dad’s poor face crumples.
The clock in the living room chimes eleven thirty, and I have an excuse. I take it.
“Oops, got to go get the barbecue.”
I jump to my feet, shoot Brandon a withering look, grab my coat and keys, and hightail it to the car.
Sad fact: I didn’t make the track team at school. It was a devastating blow.
Sadder fact: My sisters — one pregnant, I might add — beat me to the car.
“That’s okay, guys, I can get it. Go spend time with Dad.”
“You know, Baby, half the fun of coming home is seeing you.” Lexi climbs in the passenger seat.
“Yeah and Adam is wanting to spend some guy time with Dad. This is a good chance to let them,” Laney voices from the backseat.
Mental note: Do not ever try to pull one over on Lexi and Laney. They are too smart for me.
“Fine, fine,” I grouse.
I barely have the key in the ignition before Lexi begins.
“So . . .” She draws her voice out.
“So,” I copy.
“Who is Ryan?”
“He is a guy,” I answer.
“Is he cute?” Laney asks.
“Is he a Christian?” Lexi says.
“Is he nice?
“What’s he like?”
“How did you meet him?”
“What color are his eyes?”
“WHOA!” I scream, throwing my hands up.
Lexi sends me a big-sister look. “Baby, keep your hands on the wheel. Well?”
I sigh. A sister is wonderful, and I totally support the concept of one. However, sisters, plural, are conniving, scheming, and can only be tolerated by the strong of heart.
Of course, they’re also sweet, adorable, generous, and have never done anything remotely mean or cruel to me.
“One question at a time.” I must keep a straight face. I must play the game.
“Is he cute?” Lexi asks this.
Tough question. “Yes.” I am unsure. “In a way, I guess. He’s cute when he smiles.”
Laney’s turn. “Is he a Christian?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, now that the essentials are out of the way,” Lexi says. “Tell us how you met him.”
“He’s Ruby’s younger brother.”
Laney frowns. “Ruby?”
“The woman I work with.”
“Right,” she says. “Oh hey, Adam mentioned something about Brandon hiring a secretary.”
“Hannah. I like her — now. I didn’t at first.”
“Getting back to the point,” Lexi interjects. “I didn’t mean how did you meet him, I meant how did you meet him.”
I nod slowly. “Ah. He came to Bible study. He saw me sneaking Oreos. Then he came by to see Ruby the next day and saw me prostrating myself to a photograph.”
Laney and Lexi have known me since I was conceived. They don’t even blink at this comment.
“So then, uh, I’m not sure what happened.” I’m beginning to fumble a bit here. Do I fabricate a romantic story to satisfy my sisters, or do I tell the partial truth and have them think I’m an old fuddy-duddy?
I ponder this, and the car is silent.
“Well, I certainly am not sure what happened,” Lexi finally exclaims. “What happened?”
I lick my lips. “Uh, right, we went out to lunch and dinner with a group — uh, me, Brandon, Hannah, Ruby, and Nick — and he was really nice and then he came by the studio again and Ruby and
Hannah weren’t around and he just uh —”
“Kissed you?” Laney asks excitedly.
“Asked you out?” Lexi says in the same tone.
“Uh, no that was later.” I twist uncomfortably in my seat.
“Good grief, Lauren, what did he do?” Laney bursts out.
“We just talked.”
“About what?” Lexi demands.
Hannah. “Just stuff.”
“And then?” Laney insists.
“I walked him out and he asked if we could go out sometime.”
“And you said yes?”
Rather than joyful, I will describe Lexi’s voice as a mixture of incredulous and curious.
I shrug. “Well, yeah.”
“Why?” she asks, same tone.
“He’s nice.”
I watch Laney roll her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Lauren, for pity’s sake, just tell us how you really feel about this guy. I mean, are you sure you’re not dating him just to date someone?”
I pull into a parking spot at Smith Valley Barbecue. Turn off the car. Shift to my sisters.
“No.” My voice is quiet. “I really like him. He’s funny and inventive and sweet. He seems to have a genuine love for Christ that is really attractive. He has this great relationship with Ruby, and sometimes he gets this protective look on his face when he’s talking about her. He works in construction, and he’s not quite as tall as Brandon, but he’s got these huge shoulders. He’s got a lot of callouses on his hands from working with them all the time, but they are good hands, you know? And his eyes are actually almost plain, until he smiles, and then they light up like a little kid’s.”
I let out a breath. I didn’t mean to say that much. Sometime between Ryan being sweet and his eyes sparkling, my nerves calmed and I even stopped planning my speech.
Oh land.
Lexi looks at me, smiling. “Oh, Sweetie. I’m so glad. Laney and I have been praying for Ryan for years.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nerves jump into hyperdrive.
“We have,” Laney says. “Ever since you were about twelve, Lex and I have been praying for your future husband.”
“Okay, hold up,” I say. “I’m not marrying him! Yet. If at all.”
“Don’t you love him?” Lexi asks.
I can’t even answer for a second. “What?” I finally blurt.
“Of course she does,” Laney answers. “Did you just hear that speech? Sounds like love to me. Come on, girls. Junior is hungry and so am I. And that barbecue smell coming in through the doors isn’t helping.”
