by Debby Mayne
Sally’s jaw tightens. It’s obvious that she’s still unhappy about her sister’s impetuous move, but she knows there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it now.
Normally, I welcome silence, but this is awkward. I rack my brain to think of something else to say.
Justin finally speaks up. “I’m pretty handy, so if you ever need work done, I’ll be happy to do it.” Now he looks directly at me, letting me know there is one thing he’s confident about.
“Why, thank you, Justin.”
“No problem.”
Sara grimaces, while a slight smirk forms on Sally’s lips. Both of the girls know that I hate it when people say, “No problem,” instead of, “You’re welcome.” There will come a time in the future when I’ll tell him, but this isn’t it. I decide to make more small talk.
“I understand you’re a mechanic at Freddy’s.”
He nods and shifts his feet again. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How long have you been working on cars?”
“About ten years.”
My eyebrows shoot up. This boy can’t be much older than the twins, so that would put him in his early twenties.
Before I have a chance to comment on how young he must have been when he started, Sara speaks up. “He used to help his daddy work on old cars in their backyard when he was a kid.”
That makes sense. I grin at him, hoping he’ll crack and smile back. “It’s nice to have a mechanic in the family.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He might not say much, but he has the “ma’am” down pat.
It really bugs me that Shay is trying so hard to be nice to Justin when he’s the person who ruined my life. I mean, I don’t expect her to be mean to him, but why can’t she at least let him know how she really feels? Granted, she has never said anything negative about the situation, but surely she must think Sara did the stupidest thing ever by running off and getting married.
I’m glad Sara isn’t moving out, but I can already tell that there will be problems having Justin in the house. He hasn’t moved in yet and doesn’t plan to until Shay is in her own place.
But then again, maybe he’ll be handy to have around, like when the toilet runs and runs in the middle of the night like it did right after we moved in. Shay knows what to do, but Sara and I haven’t got a clue.
Ever since my sister eloped, I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster. One minute I’m hoppin’ mad, and the next minute I think it might be a good thing. Then he comes around, and I see an intruder who took off with my sister without bothering to ask how I feel.
I know it’s not all about me. Sara has reminded me of this over and over. But still, in my mind, it is partly about me. I mean, I have feelings, too, and she is my sister. People seem to think I’m the smart, strong one, but I know that Sara’s just as smart and strong, only she’s quieter about it. Besides, part of my strength comes from knowing she’s always there.
We’re back at our condo now. I’m in my room while Sally and Justin take over the living room. I hear footsteps then a knock on my door.
“What?” I haven’t been able to keep the shrillness out of my voice since he’s been here.
“The guys are having a party tonight,” Justin says. “Wanna go?”
“Where?”
“The apartment.” He pauses. “My old place.”
“Will Sara be there?” I ask.
“She said she will, but only if you go.”
I smile. At least I still carry a little clout with my sis. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long. Chevy needs to know how much beer to buy.”
Without wasting a second, I hop off my bed, storm across my room, and fling open the door. “Tell Chevy that I don’t drink beer, and neither does Sara.”
“How do you know she doesn’t?” Justin tilts his head.
I see Sara come up from behind her husband, a scowl making lines across her forehead. “She knows me better than anyone else. I’m not sure I want to go to this party.”
“But—” He frowns and glances back and forth between Sara and me, as though he’s not sure what he’s gotten himself into.
“I hate being around a bunch of drunk people,” Sara continues. “They act so stupid, and it embarrasses me.”
I decide to tag-team, something she and I do so well. “Not to mention the fact that if someone drives home drunk, you’ll be liable.”
“I will?” Justin now looks completely bewildered.
“Yes, and wouldn’t it be a shame to go straight to jail right after your honeymoon?”
Justin frowns as he drops his gaze. It appears that he still hasn’t mastered adulthood.
I glance over in Sara’s direction and see that she’s slightly amused. I’m not sure she believes what I just told her husband.
“Yeah,” I continue. “Y’all can be in some serious trouble if you throw a party and let people drive home with alcohol in their blood.”
Justin’s gaze shoots up as he has clearly has an aha! moment. “Then everyone can just crash at our apartment for the night.” He brushes his hands together. “Problem solved.”
Sara takes hold of Justin’s arm and leads him away from me. I go back into my room and close the door as my sister’s whispers grow louder and sound more desperate. I can’t help but feel smug about her being upset. Serves her right since she didn’t talk to me before eloping.
When my cell phone rings, I glance at it and see that it’s Mama. Although I’m tempted not to answer, I take a deep breath and press the Talk button. Before I have the word “hello” out of my mouth, she starts on one of her rants.
“I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve tried to call Sara, but it keeps going to voicemail. What is going on with that girl? Has she lost her mind? Can’t you keep track of her? You’re her sister and her roommate. Didn’t you stop her and ask where she was going when she left to elope?”
“Are you saying it’s my fault she did something stupid?”
“I didn’t say it was your fault, but you could have stopped her.”
Whoa. “Mama, let’s start with first things first. I had no idea she was going to elope, or I would have tried to stop her. And it’s never been my job to keep track of her every time she walks out the door. She’s a grown woman.”
Mama sighs. “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m so worried about her. She always was the one who flew by the seat of her pants, while you’ve always been so predictable.”
Predictable, huh? Maybe I need to work on that. But I don’t think this is the time to discuss me when Mama is clearly on a Sara kick today.
“Maybe she has her phone ringer turned off,” I say.
“What’s the point of having a cell phone if you turn off your ringer? She won’t know when people want to talk to her.”
That’s the point, but I don’t say it to Mama, with her fussing and fuming. “She’s here now. Do you want me to go get her?”
“No, I don’t want to bother her since she clearly doesn’t want to be bothered.” Her voice has taken on a whole new tone, and it’s gone from being accusatory to pitiful. “And she obviously doesn’t want to talk to me for some reason, even though I’ll always be her mama.”
Okay, so now she’s moved on to the guilt phase. “I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you. Let me go get her.” I make a point of clunking the phone as I put it on the dresser.
“Sara,” I say as I open the door. “Mama’s on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
“What phone?” she hollers.
I walk around the corner and see Sara and Justin snuggling on the sofa. They have obviously made up. “My phone.”
“Why did she call your phone to talk to me?”
I widen my eyes, then narrow them, our signal that we can’t discuss something. Then I mouth that she needs to go in my room and talk to our mama. “My phone’s on the dresser.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Why didn’t you bring it to me?”
&n
bsp; I give her the biggest fake smile I can manage. “I thought it might be nice for you to have a private conversation with our mother.”
“Oh.” She stands, leans over, and drops a light kiss on Justin’s lips. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” And then she leaves Justin and me alone, in awkward silence.
After the most excruciatingly quiet ten seconds of my life, I decide to say something. “Shay’s place is nice, isn’t it?”
He bobs his head but settles his gaze on the floor. “Yeah, it looks pretty good.”
Okay, this is going nowhere. “Are you excited about moving here?”
He shrugs. “Not really.”
The past several weeks seem to have crawled, but I’m finally in my new condo. Granted, not everything I wanted finished before moving in got done, but I’m fine with that. Having my own space is a huge deal to me, which makes me think I might be past the point of ever finding someone to settle down with.
Even though not all the work is done, I can do the rest at my own pace. One thing that life experience and maturity have taught me is that if the kitchen and bedroom are set up and there’s a clear path to the bathroom, that’s all you really need. Boxes are still stacked to the twelve-foot ceilings in the living and dining rooms, but that’s okay. I have a corner on the sofa with a good view of my big TV that Justin mounted on the wall the day I moved in. He’s a lot smarter and more capable than he acts or looks.
Now I have to start thinking about the reunion, like what to wear and whether or not I should ask Elliot. Although he still needs a little bit of time to get past his anger toward his ex, I think he’s come a long way. I want to ask him, and I know having him there will keep my aunts and uncles from making jabs about my not settling down.
Truth be told, I’m probably just as settled as the married folks. I’m sure they think I’m living the life of a wild and crazy bachelorette, while the wildest thing I do is watch The Bachelorette and shake my head about the bad decisions those new celebrities make in front of a national audience. I’ve even been known to throw a piece of popcorn or two at the TV when they do stupid stuff.
I call Mama to ask her opinion about different foods I should bring in addition to what I’ve already told her. After our last chat, I know I need to bring more than one thing, or I’ll be known not only as an old maid, but a stingy old maid.
“Bring whatever you want, dear.” I can tell Mama’s in a hurry to get off the phone, which makes me smile.
“Maybe I’ll just stop at the store on the way and pick something up from the—”
“No, don’t do that. You need to cook something and leave the packaged items to the younger people.”
“You originally told me to bring potato chips.” I can’t help but be suspicious of Mama when she changes like this.
“After I thought it over, I realized you were right. You’ve had to figure out how to cook since you live alone.” She pauses. “So just make sure that whatever you bring is delicious.”
“Like what?”
“Whatever you cook best.”
“I’m pretty good at making chili.”
“No.” Mama coughs. “Missy likes to bring chili. Remember last year when she brought three different kinds?”
“Yes, I do remember. A group of men hovered around the slow cookers and argued about which one was the best.”
“Bring whatever you want, but not chili.” I can hear the anxiety in her voice, which probably means that she’s running late for something.
There is one thing I know that might slow her down. “I’m thinking about bringing a date.”
“You’re what?”
Oh yeah, that totally worked. I can’t help but smile at the surprise in her voice. It’s rare that I manage to pull off something she doesn’t expect.
“Say that again, Shay, only speak slowly. I don’t think I understood you.”
“I said I might bring a date.”
Mama sighed. “Please don’t tell me it’s Elliot. He’s not—”
“We went out to dinner and had coffee a couple of times. He’s a very kind man.” Why do I feel like I’m back in high school, begging for approval?
“Come on, Shay. You can do better. He’s a divorced man.”
“As are most single men my age. I’ve known him most of my life, and he’s really nice.”
“You didn’t really know him when you were growing up. He was just an acquaintance you pined for when you were a silly teenage girl. How many heart-to-heart conversations have you had with him?”
I want to ask how many heart-to-heart conversations she had with Daddy before they got married, but I don’t dare. “Please trust me, Mama.”
“I do.” Mama lets out one of the sighs I’ve come to know so well. “Shay, sweetie, I understand why you feel like you need to do this. Teenage crushes tend to stay with people for a long time, and it takes true love with someone else to get over them.”
“Maybe so.” I stop to take a breath and make my voice sound more adult. “But we hit it off so well we decided to go out again.”
“But do you have to bring him to the reunion?” She pauses. “I love you so much, and the very thought of someone hurting you goes all through me. Are you sure you want to ask him?”
“I would like to, but he might not want to go. I haven’t asked him yet.”
“Maybe he has other plans.” I can hear the hopefulness in her voice.
“Or maybe not. Regardless, I’ll come up with more yummy things to bring.”
“How about a Jell-O mold?”
I cringe. There’s at least one Jell-O mold at every reunion, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat it. “Maybe.”
“Gotta run, sweetie. Please think long and hard before inviting Elliot.” She coughs. “Love you.”
After we hang up, I look outside and see that it’s raining. Normally I welcome these afternoon showers that cool things off and make the Mississippi summer evenings more bearable, but I don’t see a break in the overcast sky. I was hoping to set up my patio table and umbrella so I could get outside and enjoy the Jacuzzi that I just spent a fortune having cleaned, only to find out it needed fixing. So I paid someone else to come do that. This is the day I planned to grill some salmon and corn after taking a long soak in the hot tub with the jets aimed at my shoulders to work out some of the kinks from sitting at my desk all week. Oh well. Maybe I can do it tomorrow after church.
My phone rings, so I quickly grab it off the table and glance at the screen. Once again, disappointment swells inside me. It’s my brother.
“Hey, Digger.”
“What’s wrong, Shay? You sound like you just lost your best friend.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just trying to figure out what to do next in this condo.”
“Moving’s rough. I don’t envy you. I wasn’t kidding when I offered to help out.”
“I know, but we had more people than we needed, with the twins and Sara’s husband, Justin.”
“So you’re all buddy-buddy with the new guy in the family, huh? Just don’t let everyone else know.” He lets out one of those comic-book evil laughs that used to get me in trouble when I slugged him afterward. “The reason I’m calling is to let you know that the secret is out.”
“Secret?” I think back to anything either of us might have said to the other that is supposed to be a secret. “What are you talking about?”
“I know about Puddin’s job.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure if he’s aware of how much I know, and I don’t dare speak up. Besides, he might just be fishing for more information than Puddin’ was willing to give.
“She said you knew.”
“Uh-huh.” Why did Puddin’ go and tell him that? I sure hope he doesn’t get upset that I didn’t tell him.
Digger laughs. “I’ve known for a while, too, and I’ve just been waiting for her to come out and tell me. What blows my mind is the fact that you managed to keep it such a secret. You didn’t give me any clue wha
tsoever.”
“I wouldn’t have kept it a secret if it weren’t so important to Puddin’. I hope you’re not upset with her.”
“I’m not. The only thing that upsets me is that she would think I wouldn’t want her to be happy.”
“It’s not that she doesn’t think you want her to be happy. It’s just that you have been so emphatic about not wanting your wife to work. You took such pride in her staying home with the kids.”
“Did I?” He pauses. “What I meant to say was that I didn’t want her to have to work. There’s a difference.”
This conversation has stalled with semantics. “So what do you think about her job?”
“Honestly, I don’t have many thoughts about it. She still manages to do everything she ever did, and Jeremy seems happy. And now that the cat’s outta the bag, she seems happy and relieved. I can’t complain.”
I suppose that’s as much as I can expect from my brother, but I wish he sounded more supportive. It would have been nice to hear him say that he was over the moon about his wife taking the reins and doing something she wants to do while still being a super mom and wife. I’m not sure how she manages, and I suspect she has many of the normal frustrations of career moms, even though it’s a part-time job. But Puddin’ will never complain.
“Maybe she can offer to work in the front, now that you know about her job.”
“What do you mean?”
“Amanda kept her hidden in the back office so people wouldn’t see her.”
“Because of me?” I can hear the hurt in my brother’s voice.
“Yes, because of you. Someone in town was bound to let it slip that they saw your wife working at La Chic.”
Digger lets out a sigh of what sounds like frustration. “I had no idea she was that worried about letting me know. I’d never want to make her afraid of me.”
“I don’t think she’s afraid of you. It’s just that . . .” How can I talk about his ego without bruising it?
“It makes me wonder what else she’s keeping from me.”