Seth pointed at the cake. “I don’t see any purple on this.”
“There will be. We’re not putting a bride and groom on the top like that shows. A tiny bouquet made just like mine will lie on the top, with the streamers coming down the front side.”
“Then you need the lilac pictures on the cupcakes,” he said.
She picked up a pen and circled the cupcake with the lilacs. “Another decision made. Thank you. Now let’s go look at dresses.”
“First you need a place so you know what kind of dress to get, right?” he asked.
“Why?” she asked.
He flipped to the tab with DRESSES on it and pointed to the first one. “See that big train out behind that thing? Now think about having this wedding in a park or outside. Dragging that thing behind you would guarantee that by the time you got down the aisle you’d have more cockleburs and goat head stickers than you’d have them shiny things on it.”
She ignored him and stuck a finger under the VENUE tab, and suddenly he was looking at pictures of outdoor weddings. In most, white folding chairs were set up on two sides with an aisle down the middle for the bride. Some had archways at the front with flowers. Others had a gazebo-looking thing with sheer fabric flowing in the breezes.
His mind shot into high gear as he imagined the wedding out on his driveway. Concrete paving, so she wouldn’t have to think about her dress. He could hire valets to park the cars out in the pasture beside his house, and the garage could be the reception hall. It was air-conditioned, so her cakes and food would be safe from the heat and flies.
Do you realize what you are thinking? Are you crazy? Nora’s voice was in his head. You hate big crowds, and you’d never let that many people have the run of your house.
“So nix the long train.” She made a note in another, smaller book. “Or else find a place that has a sidewalk for me to walk down. I’m thinking a morning wedding with a waffle bar brunch. That way it could be all over with by noon or a little after. Logan says we’re going on a cruise out of Galveston for our honeymoon. We could drive quite a ways before dark and then get there the next morning to board the ship. Have you ever been on a cruise, Seth?”
He shook his head. “Never actually been outside the state of Texas since I came home from Germany. I did go over there and come back on a military ship, but I expect that’s far different than a big fancy cruise ship.”
“Okay, enough about the wedding.” Emmy Jo shut the book and pushed it away from him. “We’re going to make a bucket list for you.”
“A what?” he asked.
“It’s a list of things you need to do before you die. You are not poor and you aren’t getting any younger, so what do you want to do with the rest of your life?” she asked. “When that hip is healed, you need to do something other than sit here and grow mold.”
“Maybe that’s what I want to do,” he grumbled.
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling—just like Nora used to do when their mother wasn’t looking. Then she wrote at the top of a clean page in big letters:
Seth’s Bucket List.
Then she started writing without even looking up.
Number 1: Get a television and watch The Bucket List.
Number 2: Go to the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee, and visit the Ryman Auditorium and the Country Music Hall of Fame.
Number 3: Go on a senior cruise.
“Hey.” He tapped a bony finger on the paper. “What is this damn bucket list, anyway?”
Had the girl lost her mind? He was not getting on a boat and going anywhere. He’d had his share of that when they shipped him home from Germany on a troop ship. It stormed so bad that he didn’t hold down a bite of food for four days.
“I told you,” she said as she wrote down number four.
And why would he go to Nashville and fight the crowds when he could hear the Opry on the radio any time he wanted to listen to it?
“A bucket list sounds a lot like something you crazy kids would think up,” he said.
“Actually, it was two old guys who made it popular with a movie,” she said.
“Why do I need to watch it? And do I have to have people in my house hooking up all kinds of shit to see it? I’ve only seen a few movies in my time. I was too busy for such things, and I liked books better anyway,” he asked.
She laid a hand on his forearm. “No, you just need a television or a computer with a DVD player. I can rent a television and take it back after a week if you don’t want one in your house.”
“Can’t we watch it on your computer?”
“We can, but the screen is pretty small,” she said.
“Well, go get one of the damned things. Buy it. If I don’t like it, I’ll store it in one of the upstairs bedrooms. You’ll have to watch it with me tomorrow night.”
Of all the asinine things on the list, that one seemed the least invasive of his privacy.
“Are you serious?” she stammered.
“I’ll see to it Nora pays you extra for your day since you’ll be assisting on your day off.”
“I don’t need extra pay. You sure you want to buy it? We can lease it for a week or even for a month.”
“Buy the damn thing.” He stabbed a finger on number three. “Cruise, my ass!”
“Well, I suppose if you get on the ship and sail around the world in a fancy hotel on the water, then your ass will go with you,” she told him.
He chuckled. “You are just full of sass, aren’t you? I like movies, but I haven’t been to one in more than forty years. Last thing I saw on the big screen was The Great Gatsby.”
“Which one?”
“The one that came out forty years ago with Robert Redford.”
She put the pen to the paper and wrote after her number four:
See lots of movies.
“And yes, I’m sassy but you knew that on the first day I came to work in my red scrubs.”
“I hate red,” he growled.
“And I hate orange. Good thing we aren’t Okies, ain’t it?”
“Good thing.” He picked up the pen and wrote:
Number 5: Get this smart-ass kid out of my house.
She broke into laughter. “Now you are getting the idea.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Oma Lynn brought blueberry muffins and coffee to the office that Thursday afternoon and set them on the table in front of the sofa. Seth had a leg propped on a hassock.
“I’m expecting Logan Grady in a few minutes. Just send him in when he arrives,” Seth said.
“Logan? Why?”
“Need to talk to him,” Seth said.
“All right. Does Emmy Jo know this?”
“No, and I don’t want you to tell her, either,” Seth said.
“Too damn many secrets,” Oma Lynn muttered as she left the room.
Thirty minutes later Oma Lynn showed Logan into the office and quietly shut the door behind her as she left.
“Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” Seth asked.
“No, sir, I’m good,” Logan answered. “I got to admit, I’m a little nervous about why I’m here, though.”
“Well, I guess I’d have to get right to the point and tell you something that might be hard for you to hear,” Seth said. “But I need to know that it’ll stay between us at least for a little while longer.”
“You don’t want me to tell Emmy Jo?” Logan took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Just for a few days. She needs to talk to Tandy first,” Seth said.
“About?”
“Something that happened a long time ago. I’m not really the one to tell you, but I don’t think Jesse ever will,” Seth said.
“Okay,” Logan said slowly.
Seth told him the story of how he’d fallen in love with Tandy when they were in high school. Telling him the whole thing about Jesse disrespecting Mary Thomas wasn’t necessary, but Logan had to know about the triangle between him and Tandy and Jesse. When he finished, he s
aid, “I’m pretty sure that she was only messing around with me and Jesse, and I’ve figured out by blood type that the baby Tandy had did not belong to Jesse. That means she was mine, and I would have done right by her if I’d known, which also means that Emmy Jo is my great-granddaughter.”
Logan looked as if he’d just been slapped in the face with an iceberg. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Do you love Emmy Jo?” Seth asked.
Logan looked him right in the eye and did not blink. “More than anything in the world.”
“And it’s not going to matter to you that I’m related to her? You are young, but you know very well what people think of me and why. I won’t have her hurt, Logan.”
“God, no! I don’t care who she’s related to. I love her, not her family tree,” Logan answered.
“Okay, then. I have not told her anything, beyond that she had to talk to Tandy. So give it a couple of days and then we’ll talk again. That okay with you?” Seth asked.
“Yes, sir, it is,” Logan said. “And thanks for telling me. I can let myself out.”
“You ever play Scrabble?” Seth asked.
“Lots of times.”
“How about a game before you leave? I’ve got Emmy Jo up in Wichita Falls lookin’ for a television and some crazy movie about a bucket list.”
“Would love to. Mind if I take off my tie?”
“Not a bit.” Seth smiled. “And open the door. I’ll tell Oma Lynn to bring us some more muffins and sweet tea.”
“Okay, are you ready?” Emmy Jo carried a remote control to the sofa and handed it to Seth.
“You stayin’, Oma Lynn?” she asked.
“Hell, no! Ain’t no way you could get me to watch that again. I cried when I saw it ten years ago, and I still get weepy when I think of it even yet,” she said.
“Have you got a bucket list?” Seth asked.
“Yes, I do, and it does not include flying all over the world in an airplane. I’ll keep one foot on the ground, thank you very much,” she said as she closed the door to the office.
“Hit that ‘Play’ button when you are ready to start,” Emmy Jo said. “It lasts a little more than an hour and a half, so it will be over before supper time.”
He hit the red button and was totally mesmerized from the beginning of the movie. Tears rolled down his cheeks at the end of the movie, and he truly understood what Emmy Jo was telling him, not only with her words but her sass. He hadn’t been living these past twenty years. He’d only been existing—waiting to die. Two questions were asked in the movie: Have you had joy in your life? Did you bring joy to others in your life?
To both he would have to answer no. The lump in his throat was the size of a grapefruit, and no matter how many times he swallowed, it wouldn’t go away. He owed Emmy Jo more than he could ever repay. She was his blood kin, his friend, and, more than that, his savior. She’d awakened him from a dead sleep and brought him back to life.
At the end of the movie, he handed the remote to Emmy Jo. “I need a yellow notepad. It’s time to make my real bucket list.”
“Do I get to see it?” she asked.
“No, you do not, but I’m changing one of my earlier points. I’m not kicking the smart-ass kid out of my house,” he answered. “She’s a genius, and I’ll keep her around as long as I can. After we eat I’m going to watch this again. I can pause it when supper’s ready. You can join me or not. Your decision.”
“I think I’ll pass and work on our story.” She pulled a tissue from the box on the desk and blew her nose. “I fell in love with those two old guys the first time I saw this.”
Will you ever love this old great-grandfather? Or will you think he’s a son of a bitch for not figuring out things and making your life easier from day one?
“When did you watch it the first time?” he asked.
“Last year. Granny rented it, and we watched it together.”
Seth rewrote the first three things she’d put on his bucket list the day before and crossed out the first one. “One thing done. So many left and so little time.”
“You ain’t dead or dying,” she scolded. “Remember that and don’t let your age hold you back.” He tapped his upper leg. “It’s getting better every day, and when it’s strong, you’ll be able to do anything you want. Drive. Go on that cruise.”
“But I need someone to go with me. It wouldn’t be fun to do it alone,” he said.
“Ask Nora,” she said.
Like I’d want to spend months with her fussin’ at me over every little thing.
He eyed the one about the cruise. Maybe he’d do that one first after the doctor cleared him to drive. Then he wrote down another one:
Ride a motorcycle, even if it’s just to Graham and back.
Emmy Jo settled into a chair on the patio after supper that evening. It had been a busy day. She’d spent the whole morning buying the television and going to three stores before she found a copy of The Bucket List and then watched it with Seth in the middle of the afternoon. The rest of the time she’d spent writing, and now she was caught up with what Seth had told her. “I thought you’d be in the office finishing watching that movie for the second time.”
“It’s paused. I’ll go back to it later,” Seth said.
“Did you add anything else to your list?”
“Oh, yes, it’s half a page long.”
“Did you talk to Nora about going on the cruise with you?”
He shivered. “I did not, and don’t you ever say a word to her. She’ll try to talk me out of doing a third of the things on the list, and I definitely do not want her to go with me on a single trip. I love her. I appreciate what she did for the family, but I’d rather jerk all my hair out one strand at a time than go on a vacation with her. She’s even more OCD than I am.”
“My lips are sealed,” Emmy Jo said. “So are you going to work on the list or talk to me? What happened when you came home from the army? Did you go to the cabin?”
“Don’t get your underbritches in a twist,” he said and then laughed so hard that he grabbed his chest and wheezed. “God, that felt good.”
“So which one are you going to do, Mr. Smarty Pants?” She grinned. “And have you found joy and given joy in your life today?”
“No, but life ain’t over yet. Now let’s get down to your story. I came home in 1957, the same week that Jesse did.”
“So you stayed at the cabin?”
“About thirty minutes. Too many memories and ghosts. I picked up my duffel bag and walked back to town, booked a room at the hotel. I hadn’t even gotten my bag unzipped when Clifford O’Dell showed up at the door and offered me a job in his real estate agency. He’d been a resident of Hickory his whole life so he knew all about my mama and the family, so I was a little surprised. But hey, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the old saying goes. He said he needed an assistant and that he had a two-room apartment upstairs that I could use free of charge.”
Emmy Jo laid her pen down and frowned. “Why? After the way you’d been treated before, why would he do that?”
“I didn’t know then, and I didn’t question him. Part of me wondered if Clifford wasn’t one of the men who visited the cabin late at night and he felt guilty about it. At the time, he offered a job and I said thank you and told him I’d give him an honest day’s work for my paycheck. I got a refund from the hotel and moved my duffel bag to the apartment.”
“What did the apartment look like?” she asked.
“It was furnished.” He grinned. “In those days, that meant it had a small refrigerator, a two-burner stove, a broken-down sofa in the living room, and a bed and dresser in the bedroom. I took the refund money and bought a set of sheets and a week’s worth of groceries and went to work the next morning. From sleeping in a room with dozens of soldiers to having my very own space, it looked damned fine,” Seth said.
He took his yellow paper out of his pocket and wrote something on it, but she couldn’t see and d
idn’t question. Evidently, something about that apartment made him think of another item for his bucket list.
“They had a parade the next week when Jesse came home. Jesse rode in the fire engine with the high school band marching behind that, and then there were a few floats and lots of loud music. And afterward the mayor gave a speech in the high school auditorium about how proud the town was of Jesse for doing his duty, and the church had a reception with cookies and punch. I did not go,” he said.
“How did Jesse react to you?” she asked.
“He came in a few weeks later and wanted to buy a house next to the church. He didn’t even recognize me. I’d gained about thirty pounds in the service and didn’t look like that tall, lanky kid who’d been the butt of the jokes anymore. Yet once Clifford introduced us, he studied me for a long time.” Seth paused and his eyes drew down. “Finally he asked if I was stayin’ in Hickory. I just nodded without answering and went back to work.”
“Did you sell the house to him?”
“I did,” Seth answered. “I made one dollar and twenty-five cents an hour that first six months. That amounted to fifty dollars a week, and I saved forty of it. I didn’t need a car, didn’t go out except to the movies on Sunday afternoons, and ate very well,” he said.
“And after six months?” she asked.
“Alfred Conroy died,” he said. Seth pulled out his paper and wrote on it again.
“What was that? Get away with murder?” she teased.
“No.” He smiled. “If I was going to try that, I’d have killed Jesse years ago. Alfred had gone to Clifford while I was in Germany and told him, if I came back to Hickory, to give me a job. Alfred owned the building and the business, and Clifford just managed things for him.”
“Guilt?” Emmy Jo asked.
“Maybe some of that, and maybe just insanity. He had good eyesight and could see me very well the whole time I was growing up. I am the image of Sam Thomas, my father,” Seth said. “But then, Alfred was tall and had dark hair, so maybe he got the crazy notion in his head. What he saw in the mirror every morning was different than what I saw.”
The Lilac Bouquet Page 19