Boots and Bedlam

by Ashley Farley

  Eli waited for them to leave before seating Sam at the table in front of the fireplace. “Happy?” he asked as he pulled out the chair opposite her.

  She bobbed her blonde head up and down. “Very.”

  “I will totally understand if you want to wait six months or a year before we get married. We can have a big traditional wedding or a small family wedding. I’m up for anything.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I’d marry you right here, right now if I could.” She leaned across the table to him. “How does a small family wedding on Christmas Eve sound?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Christmas Eve? That’s only four weeks away. Why so soon? Are you worried you’ll get cold feet and change your mind about marrying me?”

  She lay her hand on his. “On the contrary. You know how I am. Patience is not one of my virtues. Once I make my mind up to do something, I want it done right away.”

  His lips curled into a smile, and the dimple she loved so much appeared on his cheek. “Okay then. Christmas Eve it is.”

  TWO

  The wedding bells ringtone, which Jamie had set on Sam’s cell phone the previous evening, startled her out of a deep sleep early on Sunday morning. Struggling to sit up, she snatched the phone off the nightstand.

  “Morning, beautiful,” Eli said, his voice husky from sleep. “You didn’t have a change of heart during the night about marrying me, did you?”

  The sight of the diamond engagement ring on her hand summoned a smile to her lips. “We settled this last night, Eli. I can hardly wait to be your wife.” She glanced at her alarm clock. “It’s only eight o’clock. Why are you calling so early? Is something wrong?”

  “What could possibly be wrong on a day like today? It’s just that the realtor is harassing me about making an offer on the house.”

  She drew her knees up, tucking them under her chin. “But it’s Sunday morning. Can’t she wait? At least until after church.”

  “Apparently the owners are traveling out of the country this afternoon,” Eli said. “They will be gone for a couple of weeks. If we want to make an offer, we need to do it today.”

  “I highly doubt that’s true, Eli. Realtors are experts at manipulating their clients into making quick decisions.”

  “She’s been more than fair with me, Sammie. Allowing me to use the house last night to propose to you was above and beyond her call of duty.”

  Sam smiled into the phone. “I agree. Your proposal was very thoughtful. It wins the prize for best proposals, in fact. At least in the Sweeney family. But that doesn’t mean you should feel obligated to make an offer. Do you really like this house that much?”

  “I do, but I sense you still have some reservations. I want you to walk through again during the day. I think you’ll be more comfortable with making an offer once you see the view.”

  Sam peeled the covers back. “In that case, I’ll meet you in thirty minutes.”

  Eli was right. The bungalow was a remarkably different place in the daylight with the sun streaming in through the banks of windows that offered panoramic views of the waterfront. The inlet views struck her as a singular majestic work of art exhibited from every room. The great room opened onto a large screened porch with steps leading down to a terrace, which housed a fireplace on one side and a fire pit on the other.

  “These people like to build fires,” Sam said.

  He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “More fireplaces means better snuggling for us.”

  She leaned into him, comforted by the strength of his arms. “I think this place is perfect for us. Make your offer, but don’t lowball so much you risk losing it. I can contribute the equity from my house once I sell it. And I have Mack’s money if we need to use it for a down payment now.”

  A feeling of sadness swept through her as she thought of Captain Mack Bowman and how he had been like an uncle to the Sweeney sisters and their children. When he died unexpectedly last summer, he left his considerable wealth, which no one knew he had, to Sam, her sisters, and their mother.

  Eli steered Sam up the brick steps. “Let’s go talk to Sheila about our asking price.”

  While Eli consulted with the realtor in the kitchen, Sam stood by the wall of glass in the great room and watched a pelican dive for fish. She wrapped her arms around herself. I could get used to this every morning.

  “Whoa!” Her older sister’s high-pitched voice penetrated the silence. “Would you look at that view! Whose house is this?”

  Sam spun around. “Maybe ours, if the owners accept our offer. What do you think?”

  Jackie paraded around the room, sunglasses in hand, cashmere cape billowing out behind her. “I think it’s amazing.” She peeked in the kitchen, wiggling her fingers at Eli and the realtor, and then crossed the room to the master suite. “Appointed the right way, this house could be worthy of a magazine spread.”

  Sam laughed. “Giving credit to you as the designer?”

  “Absolutely!” Jackie kissed the air beside Sam’s ear. “I’ll throw in my services for free, charging you only for any goods you purchase—furnishings and fabric and wall coverings. Which, I’ll warn you, could add up to a considerable amount. You realize your traditional furniture won’t work in here, don’t you? This room screams for elegant and sophisticated, fashioned in a comfortable style of course.”

  “Don’t they call that shabby chic?”

  “Uh . . . no. Shabby chic is so yesterday.” Jackie flicked her wrist at Sam. “You might have to spend some of that money Mack left you. You can’t buy a sports car like this and not put premium gas in it.”

  Sam held her palm out to silence her sister. “I get the picture already. What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I have an early-afternoon appointment with a client in Charleston. I couldn’t leave town until I congratulated you in person.” Jackie moved to the window. “I hope you’re prepared to have Faith as a neighbor. Her house is just three doors down that way.” She pointed in the direction of the south. “I counted on my way in.”

  “I would love being neighbors with Faith, especially now that Annie is living with her.”

  Jackie grabbed Sam’s hand and studied her engagement ring. “It’s stunning, Sam. So old-fashioned.”

  “It belonged to Eli’s grandmother.”

  “What a thoughtful gesture on his part. The ring suits you.” Jackie lifted Sam’s other hand and held them both wide. “The engagement suits you. Look at you. You’re positively glowing.”

  Sam blushed. “Honestly, I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. And to think I almost threw it all away.”

  Jackie dropped Sam’s hands. “But you didn’t now, did you? Eli must be thrilled. Have you set a date yet?”

  “We’re thinking about Christmas Eve, a late-morning service followed by a sit-down lunch for family and a few close friends.”

  “A Christmas wedding sounds charming. Would you like for me to call the club, to see if they have a private room available for the reception?”

  Sam’s eyes lit up. She’d been to the Prospect Country Club several times with Jackie. In addition to the eighteen-hole golf course, pool, and tennis courts, the property boasted a small clubhouse with expansive views of the inlet. “That would be perfect, if you don’t mind.”

  “I’ll call them first thing in the morning.” Jackie circled Sam, eyeing her body from head to toe. “Christmas is four weeks away. You have a lot of decisions to make between now and then. Have you thought about what you’re going to wear?”

  Sam crossed her hands over her chest. “I haven’t a clue, but I’ll come up with something.”

  “Get real, Samantha. You’re getting married. You can’t just pull any old thing out of your closet for your wedding day. Long, white, and flowing is out of the question at your age, but you need something special. Can you come to Charleston this week? You can spend the night with me at the carriage house. We’ll shop in the afternoon, and I’ll take you to my new favorite restaurant for
dinner.”

  “I wish I could, Jackie. But I can’t afford your tastes. My credit cards have limits. I appreciate the offer though.”

  Jackie placed her hands on her hips. “I know you, little sister. You’ll wait until the last minute, and then throw on some old rag you haven’t worn in five years. We’ll keep to your budget. I promise.”

  Sam inhaled a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. “I guess you’re right. If I want to look nice for Eli, I might as well take advantage of your impeccable style. We’ve been swamped at the market, but I can probably get away midweek.”

  Jackie removed her oversized iPhone from her hobo bag. “I have a lunch meeting on Tuesday, but if I juggle some appointments around, I can clear the rest of the afternoon and evening for you.”

  “Tuesday it is then.” Sam took her sister by the elbow and walked her to the door.

  “Good luck with your offer on the house. And give Eli a big hug for me. I’m so happy for you both.” Jackie planted a kiss on Sam’s cheek. “You deserve this, Samantha.”

  THREE

  Sam and Eli managed to finalize the terms, sign the offer to purchase the bungalow, and still make it to church on time. Jamie had walked the four blocks to church and was waiting for them in their usual pew. After the service, when they paused to speak to Reverend Webster on the front steps of the church, he’d already heard about their engagement.

  “News sure travels fast around this town,” Eli said, shaking the minister’s hand.

  Reverend Webster chuckled. “At the speed of the Internet.”

  “I’m surprised at you, Reverend,” Eli said. “You don’t seem the type to engage in social media.”

  “Not me.” His turkey neck jiggled when he shook his head. “My wife is the junkie. She can’t get enough. Facebook. Instagram. And that tweeter thingamajig.” He turned to Sam. “Are you planning a fancy spring wedding like all the other newly engaged girls in town?”

  “I’m hardly a girl, Reverend.” She looped her arm through her fiancé’s. “Eli and I have waited long enough. We’re contemplating a simple service and a small reception on Christmas Eve.”

  Frown lines creased the minister’s forehead. “That might be somewhat of a challenge with the lineup of services we hold on Christmas Eve.” He patted Sam’s shoulder. “But don’t you fret. Call the office in the morning, and we’ll see what we can work out.”

  “That didn’t sound very promising,” Sam said on the way to the car.

  “The First United Methodist Church of Prospect isn’t the only place to get married,” Eli said once they were all buckled in.

  “Why not have the wedding out at Moss Creek Farm like Aunt Faith did?” Jamie said from the backseat.

  The image of Jackie’s spread of land, complete with waterfront acreage and an antebellum house, popped into Sam’s head. She shifted in her seat to face her son. “That’s a nice idea, Jamie. Jackie and Bill certainly have the space and have always been more than generous in opening their home to their family. But Faith’s wedding was outside and the weather is too iffy to plan an outdoor wedding this time of year. I can’t see us exchanging our vows in Jackie’s living room.”

  “I agree with you there,” Eli said as he started the car. “We’ll figure something out. Right now, I’m starving. I need to get some food.”

  “Me too!” Jamie slapped the back of Eli’s seat. “Let’s go to brunch. Your engagement calls for a celebration.”

  Sam glanced at the clock on the dash. “I don’t know if we have time for brunch, honey. I need you to help me put the lights up before you go back to school.”

  “No worries. I don’t have to go back to school until late this afternoon.”

  “The Pelican’s Roost it is then,” Eli said, and put the car in gear.

  The Pelican’s Roost was situated atop the Inlet View Marina. The red leather bench seats were cracked and worn, and the paneled walls housed a permanent odor of fried seafood; but the food was consistent and the view scenic with fishing boats coming and going from the docks below. Margie, the gray-haired waitress who’d worked at the Pelican’s Roost for years, seated them at a table by the window and handed out menus.

  “It’s about time the two of you lovebirds decided to tie the knot,” she said, chomping hard on the gum in her mouth. “I’m just so happy for y’all.” She removed a pen from the brown bun on top of her head. “Today’s special is mahi, cooked anyway you’d like it. We got all the breakfast fixings, plus a few lunch ones too, if you’d rather have the buffet. Can I start y’all off with something to drink? I recommend the mimosa since you’re celebrating.” She held her hand out to Jamie. “But I’ll need to see your identification, young man.”

  Sam waved her off. “We’re fine with just coffee.”

  Margie set cups and saucers in front of each of them and scurried off.

  Leaning in, Jamie folded his arms on the table. “I’m proud of you, Mom, for not being tempted. How long have you been sober?”

  She looked up from the menu. “A hundred and sixty-five days. And you better bet I’m tempted.”

  “You hide it well,” Jamie said. “You seem like you’re in a good place.”

  “I am in a good place, thanks to Eli.” She ran her hand down Eli’s thigh. “He makes me feel alive. I don’t need chemical substances to dull my senses when I’m with him. I want to experience every moment and remember it in detail.”

  “What about you, Eli? How long has it been since you had a drink?” Eli stiffened and Jamie added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get personal.”

  “I don’t talk about my alcoholism to just anyone. But you’re different, Jamie. You are going to be my stepson. If my past mistakes can help you avoid addiction problems in the future, I’m happy to share them with you. It’s been five years and thirty-six days for me. And not a single one of them has been easy. But your mom is right. We find productive ways to spend our time. We take long walks. Go to the movies. Enjoy good food.” He kissed Sam on the forehead. “And other things I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

  “Shh!” Sam held her finger to her lips. “Not in front of the child.”

  Jamie smiled. “Sitting around getting drunk every night is definitely a waste of time. But I have plenty of friends who do it. I don’t drink that much. Mainly because I don’t like being out of control. But I know a lot of people at school whose behavior borders on addictive. And I’m not just talking about drinking.”

  Sam squeezed her eyes shut, and then blinked them open again. “You mean drugs?” She contemplated the idea of her son living in a world where people used drugs. “I guess everyone smokes pot these days.”

  Jamie aimed his thumb at his chest. “Not me. I don’t want to lose my baseball scholarship at USC,” he said.

  Eli stretched his arm out on the bench behind Sam. “You can come to either of us anytime, if you have a friend in crisis. We will always help, no questions asked.”

  Margie arrived with a carafe of coffee and filled their cups to the brim. She whipped out her notepad. “I’ll start with the bride. What’s it gonna be, honey?”

  Sam closed her menu. “In the interest of time, I think we should have the buffet.”

  Jamie and Eli agreed, and they crossed the room to the buffet where they piled their plates high with scrambled eggs, sausage, grits, and biscuits from the covered casserole dishes on the buffet table. They returned to the table and dug in.

  Sam spread her napkin on her lap. “What if we can’t find a place to have the wedding?”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eli said, taking a bite of bacon. “We’ll find a place. If you want to get married on Christmas Eve, we’ll get married on Christmas Eve. Even if we have to get married here.”

  “Here? As in the Pelican’s Roost?” She scrutinized the dingy dining room. “I don’t think we’re that desperate yet.”

  Eli shoveled up a forkful of eggs. “We live in the Lowcountry, one of the most romantic places in the United States. I�
��m sure we can find somewhere to have a wedding ceremony. What about one of the plantations? Surely they have a room they rent out for weddings.”

  Jamie slathered his biscuit with butter. “Or one of the old inns in Charleston?”

  “Those are both great suggestions. But I was hoping to find somewhere close to home. I’d hate to ask our family to travel on Christmas Eve.”

  “Why not?” Eli said. “Plenty of people travel over the holidays.”

  “Because . . .” Sam raked her fork around in her grits. “If market business is anything like it was at Thanksgiving, we will all be exhausted come December twenty-fourth. Maybe Christmas Eve is a bad idea. What about Valentine’s Day?”

  Jamie looked up from his plate. “Geez, Mom! That’s downright corny.”

  “Have you considered your chapel?” Eli asked.

  Sam dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Funny that you mention it. That’s the first place I thought of. The simplicity of the sanctuary is what I admire most about the chapel, but I worry it might be too rustic for a wedding.”

  “Unpretentious sounds perfect to me,” Eli said.

  Sam dumped a packet of sweetener in her coffee. “I was christened and confirmed at First Methodist. I always thought I’d get married there.”

  Eli threw his hands up. “I’m just saying, if the Methodist church can’t accommodate you, your Creekside Chapel might be a viable alternative.”

  Jamie took a bite of his biscuit. “Where is this chapel?”

  “On the road to the beach, about five miles east of town,” Sam said.

  “How come you never took me there?”

  “It’s personal to me, one of those places that is hard to share.” She sat back against the booth, sipping her coffee and thinking about the day she’d stumbled upon the quaint little chapel by the creek.

  Two years ago, Jamie had suffered a severe spinal chord injury in an ATV accident with his best friend on New Year’s Day. Cory died on impact and Jamie was paralyzed from the waist down. In the agonizing months that followed, Sam watched her son mourn his best friend while he tried to cope with his physical challenges. Whenever she found a moment alone, she sought solace in her car, the only place she could hide her emotions from her family. One day in late February of that year, blinded by tears, Sam pulled off the highway into the nearest parking lot. Once she’d regained her composure, she realized she was parked in front of a white clapboard church she’d never known existed. Discovering the front door of the chapel unlocked, she slid into the second pew from the front and bowed her head in prayer. When she looked up sometime later, she was surprised to find an elderly gentleman sitting next to her. Sam returned many times to seek Pastor Paul’s advice, even after Jamie regained the use of his legs. Paul’s silvery voice set her at ease and his positive attitude toward life filled her with hope for the future.