Strong Tea

by Sheila Horgan

“I don’t think so. I thought we’d decided to wait a little while. Get settled in the house. Get married. All that kind of stuff.”

  “I know, but a baby’s always a good thing.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

  His saying that to me, the words I heard from my mother so many times, I melted into near hysterics again.

  “We don’t have to rush it. Please don’t be upset.”

  “There’s nothing I would love more than having a baby with you. I’m just a mess right now. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”

  “You’ve been going full blast forever. Maybe all you need is a little time. We could put off the wedding if it’s too much too soon.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “What I want is to marry you right now. I’d be perfectly happy calling your dad and Gran and finding us someone with the right credentials and calling it done, but I know that’s not what you want. You want to get married on your parent’s anniversary.”

  “I do.”

  “So we can do it on their anniversary next year if it’s too much to do this fast. It won’t change anything between us.”

  “I don’t want to wait. If we can’t get everything done, they we’ll just have something simple here. Maybe in the backyard. Just the family. I don’t have to have a big thing. All I want is the people we love to be here when we get married.”

  “We could do that. Or at the studio? That’s a large open space. Or I saw a spot I thought you might like if you want to do it outside.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “We’ll go tomorrow. I’ll show you. It’s not far.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything. I’m going to go take my shower and then fix us something to eat.”

  “How about you go take your shower, and I’ll go grab us some take-out. Suzi isn’t here. We can just have a little picnic out in the backyard. How about brisket and French fries?”

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  I reached up to give him a kiss.

  We skipped dinner.

  I felt better when I woke up. At least until Teagan slammed her fist on the door and brought me back to reality. Or the outside world. I’m not sure they are the same thing.

  “Come on in. You want tea?”

  “I need tea. I’ve been up all night. Again.”

  “What happened?”

  “Joynessa is sick again. I’m beginning to worry about her.”

  “Is she in daycare?”

  “Yep.”

  “Kids pick up all kinds of stuff when they are around other little kids. It’s good for them. I saw a thing once on the head of the CDC or some part of it or something. He had a couple of little kids, and he let them come to work and crawl all over the place. He said it built up their immune systems.”

  “That which does not kill us makes us stronger?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t think I’m comfortable with that style of parenting. The downside risk is too high.”

  “So what’s wrong with the baby?”

  “Inner ear infection.”

  “How did you end up staying up all night? Another trip to the hospital?”

  “No, well, yes, but we weren’t there all night. After we were seen by the doctor, Joy was just so exhausted we offered to take Joynessa home with us.”

  “I’m shocked she agreed to that.”

  “She didn’t. She agreed to coming back to our place and having us watch Joynessa while she got some sleep.”

  “Cozy.”

  “It was actually kind of okay. She stayed in the guest room. Jessie had a big-time meeting today, and I didn’t have to go in, so I stayed up with Joynessa. She’s actually very sweet. She was just not feeling good. As long as we were up moving around, she stayed settled, but if I sat down or tried to put her down, forget about it.”

  “Sounds like motherhood.”

  Teagan shook her head. “Yeah, with your almost-husband’s baby mama in the next room, snoring like a trucker.”

  “I always wondered what you and Joy have in common. Well, besides the obvious.”

  “We’ve both been with Jessie?”

  “Well, I was going to say that you both have great hair, but whatever. You both snore like truckers.”

  Teagan gave me a look.

  “So you came over here to tell me that you were up with the baby all night?”

  “Nope, I came over here to tell you that it looks like the whole thing with Lola and Gord is figured out.”

  “Who figured it out?”

  “The cops.”

  “Always a good plan. What did they figure out?”

  “Lola and Gord were con artists.”

  “We figured that much out.” Teagan had followed me into the kitchen, and I put the kettle on while she settled into a chair. I half expected her to lay her head on the table and pass out.

  “Okay, dingleberry. You’re going to have to let me tell you the whole thing at once, or you aren’t going to hear it at all. I can’t do the constant comment thing when I’m this tired.”

  “Why didn’t you stay home and sleep?”

  “I drove Joy and Joynessa home. Jessie picked them up, and I met them at the hospital, so they didn’t have a car. I actually think this thing with the baby and Jessie and Joy and everything might actually work out. Actually.” She must really be tired. She laughed and kept talking, which she is famous for when she is pooped. “I decided since I was already out of the house, I’d just stop by here so that you could hear about the whole Lola thing and maybe feed your favorite sister. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”

  “What do you want?”

  “What do you have?”

  “I can do an O’Flynn full Irish.”

  “Bless you.”

  I started cooking while Teagan kept explaining. By the time we were done, I had bacon, sausage, and toast on plates in the oven staying warm. There were eggs and tomatoes cooking — dear God, how does she eat those things cooked? — and I opened a little can of beans. The third round of tea was being poured out.

  Teagan ate while she finished the story.

  I had a couple of pieces of toast and some bacon. And of course, more tea.

  Very long story short, Lola and Gord had been married for about three years. They met in New Orleans where Lola was a fortune-teller of some notable — if questionable — repute, and Gord was pretty much an old-school scrapper. He would get in fights with people for money, always giving them a handicap because of his reach and always losing the first couple fights to let the money add up. Being well over six feet tall, he seemed like a big goofy drunk until the money was right. Then he was all business, and business was good.

  Lola and Gord met at a bar, hit it off, and became friends and partners first. The marriage came later. When they decided it was the most expedient way to assure that they couldn’t be forced to testify against each other.

  Back in New Orleans, things got a little tricky. There are lots of fake-psychic-type people there — I don’t think anyone would disagree — but Lola got on the wrong side of one that was purportedly not only genuine, but had voodoo connections and a rather large family that was looking for Lola.

  They hit the road and took a rather circuitous route that got them into Texas and then back into Louisiana, where they met up with a young man who was doing tent revivals and making a small fortune. Lola was a quick learner and took it upon herself to create a new and exciting family business.

  After traveling around the South, two steps ahead of the cops and a step and a half ahead of some mighty unhappy faithful, they ended up back in Texas and decided that instead of tents, they would focus on small churches. The sad truth was that the smaller churches were unwilling to go public with the fact that they had been scammed, and Lola and Gord had their timing down so that they knew exactly when to move on.

  They ended up in that cute little church where we’d found Tommy Watterson when he t
old us something wasn’t quite right.

  While all that was going on, Gord was getting anxious. He liked the money that Lola was bringing in, most of which they had to keep hidden, but he didn’t like being the pastor’s well-behaved husband. To blow off a little steam, he got into an underground network of cage fighters.

  That went pretty well, but while there he met a guy who knew a guy who thought they might be able to use Gord’s computer expertise — mostly self-taught — to hack into a gambling site and really hit it big.

  Turns out they got caught, and Gord got dead.

  It had nothing at all to do with Teagan or her company or her boss that my brother now refers to as a weenie-wagger, although from what I understand that is a totally offensive and unjust term to use on a nudist. Or is it a naturalist? It doesn’t matter.

  By the time Teagan had filled me in on the whole story with all the details that I really didn’t need, she was done with her breakfast.

  “Well, it sounds like everything worked out.”

  “Yep. You were right, dingleberry.”

  “Probably, but what are you talking about specifically?”

  “You said that I should back off and let the cops deal with it. I did. They figured it out all by themselves.”

  “That is kind of their job.”

  “True, but you’re the one who’s always spouting off statistics and saying that if someone doesn’t confess or if they don’t get a tip, the cops pretty much can’t do anything after the first few hours.”

  “I’m not sure that’s exactly what I said, and if you tell Rory that, I’ll kill you.”

  “They would catch you.”

  “Don’t be so sure. You should go home and sleep.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Everybody is going to be here in about ten minutes. And you’re in really big trouble because your whole house smells like bacon, and I ate it all. You’ve got two pregnant people on their way. The younger one is going to barf on your floor. The older one is going to beat you about the head and shoulders until you feed her breakfast meat.”

  “What? Why is everybody coming over here?”

  “To plan your wedding, dingleberry. I told you we would attack it as soon as my stuff got taken care of. Now, be a good little bride-to-be, and get the big ol’ box out of the back of my car. There’s everything we need to get this going. I’ve been tearing pictures out of magazines and collecting brochures and searching the Internet since you called me in the middle of the night. All of us have. We got this covered. All you have to do is make some decisions.”

  I didn’t cry.

  I’m kind of proud of that since I’ve been crying about everything lately.

  I’m not pregnant, by the way. Which is good, but still made me a little bit sad.

  “I’ll call A.J.”

  “No need. I called him when I was on my way over here. He’s doing something at the studio, then he’s taking Evelyn and his grandmother out to lunch — Suzi is joining us — and then when all that is done, we should have made enough decisions to cut it down to a reasonable chunk for you and A.J. to make the final choices.”

  “I can’t believe you did all this. Got it all arranged. Thank you.”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to marry you off before A.J. realizes what he’s stepping in to.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m mostly afraid he’ll tell Jessie, and then we’re both screwed.”

  They all showed up at the same time. Just like we used to do at Mom and Daddy’s. It’s like there is some hidden O’Flynn force that pulls us all to where we are supposed to be. I know it sounds weird, but it is weird.

  The girls brought everything. They brought food and drinks and stuff to look at. They even had samples.

  Morgan had the most beautiful invitation ideas. Didn’t matter if they were formal or casual, they were all elegant and stunning.

  Teagan had taken on dress ideas. She and her designer over in England had come up with some really pretty dresses. First, Teagan showed me what they had come up with for her. All of them would look good on Teagan, but none of them would have looked good on me. I was a little worried.

  Teagan’s so taken with some of the dresses that the designer came up with, she is going to have them made in different fabric so they aren’t so wedding dressy. A couple of them tea length. Teagan never wears tea length. She says she is too short, and it cuts her off. I can’t imagine how high her heels will have to be for her to be comfortable.

  When Teagan pulled out a different folder and opened it, I about fainted. “You have to decide where you’re getting married and how formal you want it, dingleberry. Only then can we decide on a dress. But these might give you some inspiration.” Her smile was infectious.

  The first dress was perfect. It had about two and a half inches of gathered chiffon on the shoulders. A very dramatic empire waist that came up to a point between the breasts and then down sharply to the sides, ending below the hips. There was about a three-inch gap between where the chiffon was gathered under the bust to where it started again, but in that three inches was an illusion gap with flowers. The flowers were three-dimensional. A couple on the shoulders. Then from the middle to the area on the hip where the empire waist dropped on the sides, the flowers were grouped here and there. The next sketch showed the back. The flowers from the shoulders were continued to the middle of the neck and on the sides in a huge oval that ended in a very low back. All those flowers were three-dimensional, too, and they were gorgeous.

  Everybody was oohing and ahhing.

  Teagan pulled out a sketch of the next dress. “This one reminds me of one of your nightgowns.”

  It was just as beautiful as the first one, but completely different. It had a draped neckline in the front, and the back had a very low dip that ended in a thin ribbon laced from one side to the other. The dress was very fitted, but somehow by the time it got to the hips, it seemed to have pleats that followed all the way to the floor. It was ballet dancer meets flower child, and it was stunning.

  The next dress looked like something from another century. It had a notation on the side, ivory satin. It was fitted from the neck to the low hips with a thick sash that tied in front, kind of swooping down from the hips to a V shape in the middle about three inches lower. It had sleeves that literally hit the floor, but up top by the shoulder it was kind of an old-school cold shoulder. The neckline was very crisp with a wide-cut shallow V shape almost like a princess cut tank top, but then there was a sleeve that started with a drape and ended on the floor. The dress was stark with the exception of an intricate design of Celtic knotting on the bust. Notes said that the knotting would be ivory silk and gold cording.

  “The dresses are beautiful, Teagan. They are all so fitted. I’m not sure how we can do that long distance.”

  “We won’t have to.”

  “What?”

  “She’s coming over here. She’s always wanted to see the United States. I need my dress done. You need your dress done. Your dress is my wedding present to you.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Well, from me and Jessie. He’s actually the one paying her to come over, but there’s no need to be overly technical.”

  Everybody laughed.

  “But how are we going to get her over here and get everything done in time?”

  “She will be here on Tuesday. She said there will be no problem. Your only job is to keep your weight stable and to pick out a dress or decide what you want, and she can make up new sketches.”

  “I can’t believe it. Wouldn’t Mom have a thing or three to say about that? Flying in a designer all the way from around the world to make our dresses.”

  Maeve laughed. “She’d probably have more to say about the fact that she’s English.”

  We all laughed. We all cried. It was a great night.

  We got a lot of ideas going and even made some decisions. By the time A.J. got home with Evelyn, the
girls were ready to go home. I had pictures and books and brochures everywhere. The look on A.J.’s face was perfect. A balance between complete panic and excitement.

  Each of my sisters kissed A.J. on the cheek on the way out. All of them had a different phrase, but essentially they told him that I am a lucky woman. He smiled and argued he’s a lucky man. They all laughed a little too knowingly. It made him kind of nervous. That made us laugh all the harder.

  The four of us had a lazy dinner. Evelyn was pooped from her big day out, and Suzi brought her up to give her a bath and put her to bed. A.J. seemed equally tired.

  “Are you okay? You seem really tired.”

  “I am. Just have a lot going on, and I’m worried about Gran.”

  “What’s up with Gran? Is she sick?”

  “No, but she’s got something going on she isn’t telling me about.”

  “Maybe it’s something good. Maybe she’s dating some hot young guy you would never approve of.”

  He shook his head like he was trying to rattle the thought out before it stuck in his brain forever.

  I laughed.

  “Your grandmother may not be twenty, but she’s beautiful and vibrant and has such an easy way about her.”

  “That’s not funny, Cara.”

  “I didn’t say she was easy. I said she had an easy way about her.” I laughed harder still. “Don’t be so quick to put your grandmother on a shelf, A.J. A happy person lives longer. They’ve done studies.”

  “And how are you going to feel when your dad starts to date again?”

  “I’ll have mixed emotions. I’ll be thrilled that he’s moving forward to build a life that will bring him happiness and crushed that the love he enjoys isn’t with my mother.”

  “That makes sense. I hope you’re right. I hope that she has something positive going on. I just wish she would tell me what it is. I know she’s keeping something from me.”

  “Maybe she’s planning another adventure with the girls. Or maybe she’s planning a surprise for you. We are getting married soon.”

  He perked right up.

  He spun me around several times, did a move anyone on Dancing with the Stars would be proud of, lifted me up, and carried me to our room.