Every Bride Needs a Groom

by Janice Thompson

  “Oh, it’s because of his knee,” I said.

  “It’s true, his knee needs more time. But there’s more going on than that. People think that guys don’t get scared, but they do.” Alva gave me a knowing look. “Brady’s scared.”

  “Of?”

  “Letting his team down, plain and simple. He’s scared to get back in the game because he’s afraid he won’t be able to play like he used to. So he’d rather risk not playing at all. When you don’t play, you don’t fail.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. Remember that scene in Coal Miner’s Daughter where Loretta had to stand in front of a crowd and sing for the very first time? She was terrified. It takes courage to do the one thing you’re most terrified to do, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

  “I understand being afraid,” I said. “I’ve been a little scared of letting my family down.”

  “Letting your family down?” Alva pursed her lips. “Why let them control your destiny, kid?”

  “Oh, I’m not saying it’s like that. Just saying that I hate to disappoint them. So I totally get what you’re saying about Brady being afraid of disappointing his fans.”

  “Ah.” A cloud seemed to settle over her. “Well, maybe we all need to get over this feeling of being a disappointment to others and just get on with the business of living.”

  I thought through her words. “You’re a smart cookie, Aunt Alva.”

  “Ooh, cookies.” She nearly dropped the dish in her hands, but the most delightful look came into her eyes. “I was thinking of making some oatmeal raisin cookies in the morning. Do you like those?”

  “They’re my favorite. Queenie’s too. She makes the best in town.” I bit my lip, knowing there would be a reaction from my aunt. Why had I mentioned Queenie again? Somehow I just couldn’t help myself when I was around Alva.

  An awkward silence grew up between us. She wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the counter. Her thoughtful expression caught me off guard. “Katie Sue, let’s get one thing out in the open, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure, Aunt Alva.”

  “Despite what you might be thinking, I really don’t hate my little sister,” my aunt said. “You need to know that.”

  Relief flooded over me as I realized she wasn’t upset with me. “You don’t seem the sort to hate anyone, Aunt Alva. I just don’t know what to think about the situation between you and Queenie. It’s so . . . odd. I’m looking at it from the outside in, and you know the story from the inside out, so our perspectives are different.”

  “It’s kind of a long story, too long for your first night here. But it all goes back many, many years, long before you were even born.”

  “I see.”

  “I wonder, Katie . . . do you happen to know a man named Paul Bradford?” My aunt’s eyes misted over as she mentioned his name.

  “Reverend Bradford? At the Presbyterian church?”

  Her gaze narrowed as she shifted her attention to the dishes once more. “Yes, do you know him?”

  “Of course. I’ve grown up knowing him. In fact, I saw him recently at my parents’ anniversary party. Great guy.” But what did he have to do with Aunt Alva and Queenie?

  I gasped as the realization hit me.

  Oh. My. Goodness.

  Queenie’s heart had been broken when Reverend Bradford showed an interest in another woman. Now I knew who that other woman was. She was standing next to me, washing dishes.

  “Do you want to tell me the story?” I asked.

  She sighed and passed me another plate. “Not yet. Maybe one day I’ll explain it all. Or write it all down in a letter. You can read it after I’m dead. It’ll be less painful that way.”

  “I have to wait until you’re dead to know the details of what happened between the two of you? Er, the three of you?”

  “Maybe.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll think on it. Perhaps there’s a way to get things out in the open without hurting folks all over again. I’ll have to pray about that. In the meantime, let’s just have a good time, you and me. It’s wonderful to have someone from the family spend time with me. That’s all. Wonderful.”

  I had to admit, it felt pretty wonderful from my perspective too. In fact, only one thing had felt more wonderful tonight . . . that awesome moment when my heart skipped to double time as Brady James pulled me into his arms.

  23

  Two Steps Forward

  Everyone feels like family and I am back in the city that I love.

  Chris Noth

  I got the best night’s sleep I’d had in ages in Aunt Alva’s guest bedroom. I didn’t even mind the 1970s paintings on the wall or the harvest gold carpeting. And the silk nightgown she loaned me—circa 1968—made me smile. But the room felt just right for me, including the down comforter on the bed. Since she kept the house as cold as a refrigerator, the comforter came in handy. I loved snuggling under the covers when chilly.

  When I woke up the following morning, the smell of bacon gave me more than enough reason to get out of bed. I found one of Alva’s robes hanging on the hook at the top of the bedroom door. I donned it and headed to the kitchen, where I found my aunt in a floral dressing gown. She stood at the stove, cooking up a storm.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Alva gestured with her head to the refrigerator. “There’s milk in the icebox.”

  Icebox?

  “Might as well pull out the butter too. It needs to soften a bit before we can use it. We’re gonna need it for the flapjacks. They’ll be done in a few minutes.”

  “Wow, you’re cooking for an army over there.”

  This whole breakfast reminded me of another one several weeks ago. I’d sat at Queenie’s table on a random weekday morning, talking about my relationship with Casey.

  Casey.

  Hmm.

  For whatever reason, thinking about him didn’t bring as much pain as it had that day. Maybe my heart really was starting to heal. At any rate, a plate of pancakes smothered in butter and yummy syrup would certainly help.

  Our conversation shifted, and Aunt Alva went off on a tangent about how she was a week behind getting her hair done. How we’d transitioned from flapjacks to hair, I could not say.

  “Just wanted to make you aware of my schedule, honey bun,” Alva said. “I’ve got my weekly appointment at the hair salon a couple of days from now, on Friday.”

  Interesting. Queenie always went to Do or Dye on Fridays to get her hair done. The similarities between the two women grew stranger and stranger.

  “Why Friday?” I asked.

  Alva gave me a “surely you jest” look. “Silly girl. So it’ll still look fresh for church on Sunday. Wouldn’t want to show up for Sunday service with bed head, you know. Gotta put my best foot—er, curl—forward.” This led to a lengthy conversation about what her schedule looked like the rest of the week. “I come and go from the house quite a bit,” she said. “I might be in my golden years, but I’m still very active. And a good driver too. Those people at the DPS might’ve questioned it last time around, but I proved ’em wrong. Sure did.”

  Just like Queenie.

  “Now, let’s eat.” She lifted the platter of flapjacks, nearly dropping it. “I’m starving.”

  “Me too.”

  I’d just taken my seat at the table when my cell phone rang in the living room. I sprinted to find it and answered when I saw my mother’s number. I could tell from the sound of her voice that something was troubling her.

  “Mama, you okay?” I asked.

  “Well, I suppose I’m all right physically, but if you’re asking about my mental and emotional state, I’ve been better. Things have been rough at the store without you, honey.”

  “Ah. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “I don’t mind admitting we’re getting worried about you, Katie Sue.”

  “Worried? Why?”

  “Well, for one thing, your brothers came home with the strangest story yesterday. Somethin
g about some girls they’ve met at a store in Dallas, thanks to you. Didn’t make a lick of sense. Why in the world are the boys meeting girls at some sort of store? Have you been shopping a lot while you’re there?”

  “Well, not really. I—”

  “I know some girls like to go on shopping sprees when they get their heart broken, but it only leads to ruin in the end. You’ll run up credit card debt and end up in debtors’ prison.”

  “Mama, I don’t have any credit cards. And I haven’t been shopping.” Not really.

  “Well, color me confused.”

  I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t really matter anyway, because Mama did all the talking.

  “Your brothers insist you’ve been spending time with a ball player. A pro ball player, no less. Now, I know my girl really well. She’s never kept any secrets from me. So I told them it couldn’t possibly be true or she would’ve told me.”

  Oh dear.

  “Actually, Mama, I have met someone who plays for the Mavericks. Brady James. Have you heard of him? We’ve struck up a friendship.”

  “A . . . friendship?” She grew silent.

  “He’s very nice. I think you would like him.”

  “Well, I must say I’m a little surprised. Your brothers aren’t giving me much information, and I for one am feeling a little left out. I don’t know what in the world you’re up to in Dallas, but Pop and I want you to come home now. He needs your help at the hardware store, and the choir’s just not the same without your voice. I had to give Bessie May the solo in last Sunday’s special, and you know she can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to singing.”

  “Mama, that’s not true. She has a lovely voice.” Shaky, but lovely.

  “It’s just not the same.” Mama sighed. “Nothing’s the same since you went away.”

  “I’ve only been gone three and a half weeks.”

  “Seems like three months. I just don’t understand why you need to spend so much time with Lori-Lou. Aren’t those children about to drive you bonkers?”

  “Actually, I spent the night with Aunt Alva last night. I’m in her living room now.” I lowered my voice so as not to be heard.

  “Aunt Alva?” Now Mama sounded interested. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. We had a slumber party.”

  “Well, if that doesn’t beat all.” I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. “Queenie’s liable to have a conniption.”

  “Only if she knows, Mama.” So please don’t tell her.

  “Well, what in the world are you and Alva doing? Can’t you stay connected through the internet or something? Come back home and send her emails. Ask her to friend you on Facebook. There are plenty of ways to stay connected to people these days without actually having a slumber party. We need you here. Nothing’s the same.”

  Hmm. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Mama was a tad bit jealous of my blossoming friendship with Alva. And Lori-Lou.

  “I told you, Mama. I’m getting away for a while. Since Casey left, well, I just needed to think things through.” I couldn’t mention the upcoming photo shoot, obviously, but it weighed heavy on my mind. I couldn’t go back to Fairfield for good until the dress was finished and the photo shoot was behind me. Now that Brady knew about my situation, I owed it to him. I would carry through with this, if for no other reason than to make things easier on him.

  Mama cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got this figured out, Katie Sue. I know a little something about broken hearts.”

  “Huh?”

  “I know why you’re staying away so long. It’s a tactic, isn’t it?”

  “A tactic?” Okay, now she really had my attention. I took a seat on Alva’s paisley sofa. “What sort of tactic?”

  “It’s a ploy to bring Casey back home. Stay away and make him wonder what you’re up to.”

  “That makes no sense at all, Mama.”

  “Are you thinking that he’ll come back because he’s worried about you being gone? I’m not sure that’s the best strategy.”

  “Strategy? You really think I’m doing this to draw attention to myself? To make Casey come looking for me? That’s . . . crazy.”

  “I’m clueless, if you want the truth of it.” Mama’s voice shook. “Honestly? I don’t care if we ever see Casey Lawson again.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Really.” Her voice continued to tremble with emotion. “He can move away to Tulsa and stay there, for all I care. I’d rather see you end up with someone who deserves you, someone who won’t leave you dangling for years on end. Someone who makes you feel the way your father makes me feel.” Her words grew more animated by the moment. “Someone who’ll go the distance with you. Someone who cares about family and sees your potential. That’s the kind of guy I see you with.” She released a long breath. “There. I got it out in the open.”

  I half expected her to leap into a sermonette about Levi Nash, but she refrained, thank goodness.

  “You know what, Mama? That’s exactly the kind of guy I see for me too.” I rose and paced Alva’s spacious living room, my gaze landing once again on the photograph of Queenie and Alva as young girls. “And you’re right . . . that guy isn’t Casey. Giving me time away in Dallas has put all of that into perspective. I’ve needed to completely step away to see that. You know what I mean?”

  “I guess. But you’ve picked a doozy of a place to go. If you knew the story about Queenie and Alva, you’d understand.”

  “Oh, I think I’m beginning to understand.” I lowered my voice. “We, um, had a little conversation last night. I’m starting to see what happened . . . from both sides.”

  “Did she tell you that she’s the one who broke up the relationship between Reverend Bradford and Queenie?”

  “Well, it wasn’t phrased exactly like that, but I sort of figured it out on my own.”

  “Alva was behind it. She instigated the whole thing. Flirted with the poor fellow and got him all confused. Totally ruined any chance Queenie had. I don’t think the good reverend was really interested in Alva, but she wouldn’t give up on the idea. You want my opinion?”

  I had a feeling Mama was about to give it, regardless of my answer.

  “I think Alva didn’t care about Paul Bradford. She just didn’t want him to marry her sister.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she didn’t think he was good enough for her.”

  Whoa. I lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper. “You’re telling me she arranged for Queenie to have a broken heart . . . to somehow protect her?”

  “She didn’t want her sister to end up with a man who didn’t deserve her. That’s the long and short of it,” Mama said. “But Queenie went on to meet your grandpa Joe when his family moved into town. They had a whirlwind courtship and—on the heels of Reverend Bradford’s wedding—she decided to marry him. From what I was told, Alva wouldn’t even come to her wedding.”

  “No way.”

  “It’s true. Bessie May spilled the beans. And it wasn’t much longer before Alva moved away to Dallas.”

  And Alva had never married. Sad.

  I felt like a real heel talking about the woman behind her back in her own home. Not that I’d brought up the subject, but I needed to put a cap on it before it got out of hand.

  “Mama, I really don’t think we should be—”

  “The worst part is, she could’ve been surrounded by family all of these years if Queenie had been willing to forgive and forget. I think Alva pulled away to keep the peace. This ridiculous separation has affected the whole family. You can call it whatever you like, but in the end, bitterness has grown up between them, and the devil thrives on bitterness.”

  At that very moment, Aunt Alva popped her head in the living room door and gave me a cute little wave. “Yoo-hoo, kiddo! Your pancakes are getting cold. Better come and eat while the eatin’s good! And I haven’t forgotten about those oatmeal raisin cookies. I’ve already got the dough started.”

 
“Okay, I heard that.” Mama sighed. “She actually sounds pretty chipper.”

  “You’re right.” I waved at Aunt Alva and gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Go eat your pancakes,” Mama said. “But promise you’ll come back two weeks from Friday for Queenie’s birthday party. She’ll never forgive you if you’re not here.”

  “What date is that?”

  “The seventeenth.”

  Perfect. Two days after the photo shoot. “I’ll be there. Where is it?”

  “At Sam’s, of course. The whole family will be there.”

  Not the whole family. Alva wouldn’t be there, would she?

  Or maybe she would. Maybe I could begin to work on her now, to see if I could talk her into going with me.

  I said goodbye to Mama and ended the call. I thought about her words all morning long as I ate my breakfast, then dressed in the same clothes from the day before. In spite of my blossoming friendship with Brady, I still held some bitterness in my heart toward Casey. I didn’t mean to. But in the quiet moments, usually before getting out of bed in the morning, I still seethed on the inside over his decision to leave me behind.

  All right, so his decision to leave had forced me to move on.

  And yes, being forced to move on had led me to Cosmopolitan Bridal.

  And okay, my decision to move forward with the wedding gown had led me to Brady James.

  And sure, my heart fluttered whenever he glanced my way.

  When I saw it all in perspective, the bitterness faded away. In that very moment.

  Brady showed up around eleven in his truck. Alva greeted him with as much enthusiasm as she had the first day she’d met him and offered to feed him a late breakfast. Brady thanked her but declined.

  “Sorry, Alva,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to the shop. I’ve left Jasper and Dewey working on Katie’s car.”

  “Wait.” I put my hand up. “My brothers are back in Dallas . . . again?”

  Brady nodded. “Yeah, Jasper said something about needing to shop for supplies for the store.”

  “He did that yesterday.”

  “I think maybe he got distracted yesterday and forgot? Anyway, he and Dewey are working on the car. Putting in a new battery. You’ll never believe what Beau is doing.”