High Cotton

by Debby Mayne

  When we pull into the parking lot, I remember that Friday night is all-you-can-eat catfish and hush puppies. The parking lot is practically full, and there’s a line of people waiting to be seated.

  He turns to me. “Would you rather go somewhere else?”

  “We could, but they’re usually pretty good at handling crowds here.”

  He grins. “Smart girl.”

  At that moment, one of the cars parked close to where we’re waiting starts to back out. “Your timing is good.”

  He pulls into the spot, turns to me, and squeezes my hand. “Our timing is good.”

  If my heart beats any faster, it will bounce right out of my chest. I force myself to appear as normal as possible and smile back. I don’t dare say anything because, if I do, I’m sure my voice will squeak.

  As we walk toward the entrance to Catfish Jack’s, Elliot takes my hand as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. I see a few familiar faces turning to look at us. I lift my head a couple inches.

  We’re barely inside the restaurant when Gavin, one of the guys Elliot used to hang out with in high school, approaches and slaps Elliot on the back. “Hey, bro. Heard you were back in town.” He looks me over and grins. “Who’s your date?”

  I give him a curious look, and Elliot laughs. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember Shay Henke.”

  Gavin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Shay Henke? Whoa. What have you done with the nerdy girl?”

  Getting up before the crack of dawn is something I haven’t had to do in years. I trudge out to the driveway before sunrise, shove the car key in the ignition, and turn it. Nothing happens.

  Oh man, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I have to be at the apparel show in Jackson in two hours, and it’ll take me at least that long to drive there and find a parking spot.

  After a couple more tries, I get out, slam the car door shut, and storm back inside the condo. Justin blinks. “What’s got you all worked up?”

  “Car won’t start.” I head to the kitchen, grab a glass, and fill it with water. After I drink it, I go back out to the living room and see that Justin is gone.

  I dig my cell phone out of my purse and start to look up the automobile club when the door opens, and Justin comes inside brushing his hands together. There’s a smudge of oil on his arm.

  He grins. “All fixed.”

  “All fixed?” I lift an eyebrow.

  He nods. “Yeah, it was just a loose wire. Your car should be fine now.”

  “Are you sure I don’t need a new battery?”

  “Positive.”

  Feeling doubtful, I head out to my car and turn the key. It starts right up. I glance toward the door and see Justin standing there, watching. I smile and wave. He lifts his hand, wiggles his fingers, and disappears inside.

  Maybe having Justin for a brother-in-law isn’t so bad after all. This isn’t the first time he’s done something nice. A few days ago, I came home from working out to a full chicken dinner that Justin had prepared. And before that, he changed my tire before I even realized it had a nail in it. When I thanked him, he just shrugged and said, “It was startin’ to look a little squishy on the bottom.”

  Those are the good things, but I’m still struggling with the ways he annoys me. For instance, I have to put on a bathrobe before leaving my bedroom every morning, and I can’t sit in front of the TV in the living room to paint my toenails because Sara said that kind of thing grosses him out.

  On my way to Jackson, I try to focus on the positives of having Justin living with us, but the negatives keep popping into my head. Sara seems fine with everything as it is, and during the times I’ve tried to talk to her about it, she gets surly. Sometimes I feel like the crazy person in the house, and maybe I am. But I sure do miss how things used to be.

  I glance at the empty seat next to me. Sara used to go with me to these things, but now she’s more focused on being a wife than a business partner. When I asked her if she could go with me today, she just shook her head, looked away from me, and said she had plans. I can tell that something is up, but I haven’t had the time to figure out what it is.

  After a half hour of thoughts that make my frustration even worse, I turn on the radio and listen to the news on Sirius. I’m not sure why, but these days, I’m more interested in talk radio than music. It could be that, since Justin has been in the house, he has his music playing nonstop. When I asked Sara why he doesn’t use earbuds, she said they irritate his ears. She obviously doesn’t care that the noise coming out of his phone irritates my nerves.

  When I get to the apparel show, various people greet me by name—some of them calling me Sara, others getting it right. A couple even ask where my sister is.

  I make the rounds and chat with various people who have placed orders with us for their stores or wholesale companies. When I first came up with the idea to have a wholesale business, Sara didn’t think people would be willing to pay the same price that we get on Etsy. After the first show, she was sold. I’m a little bit sad about being here alone, but I’m finding that it’s actually a little easier to get around.

  “Hey, Sally.”

  I turn around and find myself face to face with one of the men Sara and I met at the show in Mobile. “Hi, Tom.”

  He leans over and looks behind me before straightening up. “Are you here alone?”

  I nod. “Sara has something else to do today.”

  “Good.” He makes an apologetic face. “Sorry, but I’ve been wanting to ask you out since we first met, but I didn’t want to leave anyone out.”

  That’s when it dawns on me that he actually called me by the correct name. “How do you know I’m Sally?”

  He grins and shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way you walk or the way you make eye contact when we’re talking. I can just tell.”

  Now he has my attention. Very few people actually pay that close of attention to see the differences between my sister and me.

  “So how about it? What are you doing for lunch?”

  “Depends.” I fold my arms and rock back on my heels. “What do you have in mind?”

  “There’s a nice little café down the street, if you don’t mind walking.”

  “As a matter of fact, I prefer walking.”

  He smiles. “It’s a date. I need to get back to my company’s booth. Where would you like to meet?”

  “I’ll stop by your booth. What time can you get away?”

  He glances at his watch. “How’s eleven thirty?”

  “See you then.”

  I walk away feeling as though I’m floating a few inches above the concrete floor. Tom Flaherty is one of the best-looking, nicest men in the children’s fashion industry. In fact, last time Sara and I saw him, I told her that. She just shook her head and said she thought he was sweet but not all that good looking. Seeing the differences between Tom and Justin, it’s obvious that she and I go for different types.

  Now I’m happy that I’m here alone. I go from booth to booth and take orders without having to discuss anything with my sister. I know what we’re capable of producing, but she has always wanted to be in on the decision making, so we’ve stepped aside to discuss each and every order.

  It’s finally time for lunch, so I round the corner and head toward Tom’s booth. His back faces me, so he doesn’t realize I’m there.

  “Remember that woman I told you I thought was beautiful and smart, but she’s always with her sister?” I hear him say. “She’s finally here alone, so I’m taking her to lunch.”

  A combination of joy and embarrassment washes over me as I stop and make eye contact with the woman he’s talking to. I make a gesture for her not to say anything, and she glances away. After a brief moment of hesitation, I move forward.

  “Here she comes,” the woman says. “Enjoy your lunch.”

  As we make our way down the aisles, he tells me about his company and the fact that his mother and sisters managed to talk him into quitting his indus
trial sales job to work with them. “I never saw myself selling children’s fashion.”

  “Do you regret it?” I ask.

  “Never. In fact, if someone from my former industry offered double my salary, I’d have to turn them down. There’s something special about working with family and knowing that your coworkers have integrity. I was never sure before.”

  “I totally understand. I used to be in banking, and wild horses couldn’t drag me back to that.”

  He motions toward a small café and opens the door for me. “It’s a hole in the wall, but the food is delicious.”

  After we order, the server brings our drinks and a basket of dinner rolls. Tom folds his hands in his lap, lowers his head, and appears to say a blessing, so I do the same. When I open my eyes, he grins.

  “I think my dream has just come true,” he says.

  “What dream?”

  He sighs and shakes his head. “I probably shouldn’t say this, at least not yet . . .”

  “Say what?”

  “I don’t want to scare you away.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Should I be scared?”

  “I hope not.” He gives me a serious look. “I’ve been chatting with you for the past year or so, and every single time, I want to get to know you better. But there’s one thing that’s of the utmost importance to me.” He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “My faith is the number one priority in my life, even before family.”

  My heart hammers hard in my chest. “Faith is important to me, too.”

  “You are talking about Christian faith, right?”

  I tilt my head to the side. “What other kind of faith is there?”

  I can’t be more excited about the fact that Elliot has agreed to go to the reunion with me, but I know some of my uncouth family members will probably bring up the fact that he’s divorced and probably make a big deal of it. It’ll be embarrassing as all get-out, but a lot of my kinfolk are very outspoken.

  “What’s wrong, Shay?” he asks over lunch on Sunday after church. “You’ve been mighty quiet all day.”

  I shove the lettuce around on my plate. “Nothing’s really wrong. It’s just that . . .” How do I tell him that he’ll most likely be grilled by at least one person, while an audience of aunts, uncles, and cousins watches? Why did I think it would be a good idea to ask him to my family reunion?

  The lines of concern on his face deepen. “Did I say something to upset you?”

  Without hesitation, I meet his gaze and shake my head. “No, Elliot. You’ve been a perfect gentleman.” I close my eyes momentarily and ask God to give me the right words. “Ya know, when I asked you to go to the reunion with me, there was something I didn’t consider.”

  “So you don’t want me to go now?”

  “I do want you to go, but . . . well, some of my family might be . . . sort of . . .”

  “They don’t like me?”

  “Oh, I’m sure the ones who know you like you just fine.”

  He frowns. “Is this about the fact that I’ve been married before?”

  I nod and make a face. “Yeah.”

  Elliot puts down his fork, buries his face in his hands for a few seconds, then looks me in the eyes. “Shay, I like you a whole lot, and I’m willing to walk across hot coals if you want me to.”

  “That is so sweet.” Facing Mama and some of my aunts might feel like he’s walking across hot coals.

  “But I don’t want to make you feel bad. If you’ve changed your mind, I certainly understand.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I just want to make sure you know what you’ll be getting yourself into.”

  “You’re worth whatever I have to go through.” He grins and gives me one of those looks that make my toes curl. “We’re in this together.”

  He has some things to do this afternoon, so he takes me home. As soon as I walk into my condo and see the still-unpacked boxes stacked in the corner of the living room, I realize I’ve neglected my own place. I change into some shorts and a T-shirt and go back out to the living room to tackle the monster that I’ve been ignoring.

  A couple hours later, my stomach starts to rumble, so I head to the kitchen. When a knock sounds at the door, I do an about-face and answer it. Sally stands there grinning at me.

  “Come on in.” I step to the side and let her in. “I was just about to cook supper. Want some?”

  “Sure.” She follows me to the kitchen and plops down at the table.

  “Where’s Sara?”

  Sally shrugs. “Somewhere with Justin, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  I pull out some ground beef and shove it into the microwave to thaw. “What’s going on?”

  “I think I’m in love.”

  “Really?” I can’t help but smile. “Who’s the fortunate guy? Do I know him?”

  “No. He’s someone I know from the fashion shows.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Tom Flaherty.” She grins back at me. “He works for his family’s children’s fashion business.”

  I think back over our conversations and try to recall his name but can’t. “Have you ever mentioned him before?”

  She shakes her head. “There was nothing to say until now.”

  “What makes you think you’re in love?”

  Her dreamy expression intensifies. “Everything about him is perfect, from the way he looks to his faith.”

  “His faith?” I pause as she nods. “Did y’all discuss Jesus?”

  “After telling me how much he loves his family, he said that his faith is the only thing that is more important.”

  “That’s a good start.” I try to think of a way to let her know that love takes longer than a single conversation. “Just be careful, okay? Not that I’ve ever been in love, but . . .” I give her one of those helpless looks.

  “Oh, I know.” A pragmatic look replaces her dreamy expression. “When I said I was in love, what I should have said was that he said all the right things to make me think there might be something there.”

  Ah, now that’s the sensible Sally I know. It’s one of the biggest things that make her different from her more impetuous twin. “It’s nice to get off to a good start in a relationship. Do y’all have plans to get together again?”

  Her eyes light up. “He’s coming through Pinewood on his way to the coast next week, and I asked him to stop by for dinner.”

  Between the two sisters, Sally is the better cook, but she still needs some work in that area. “Would you like me to help you?”

  She nods. “Can you? I mean, will you?”

  “Yes, of course.” After all, these girls let me stay with them, rent free, while I waited to close on my condo.

  “You are the best cousin ever!” I brace myself for a hug, but she maintains her distance. “I was thinking it might be fun to make a casserole.”

  A casserole isn’t the most romantic dish I can think of, but it’s probably safe. “Why don’t I come over and help you prepare one, and you can stick it in the oven an hour before you plan to eat. Add a salad, and you’ve got a meal.”

  Now she grabs me for a bear hug. “I’m pretty sure he’s the man of my dreams. If he likes my casserole, I’ll have to become a better cook. Can you teach me before he figures out that I have no idea what I’m doing?”

  I laugh. “You’re better than you think you are, but sure, I’ll show you how to make a few basic meals and teach you some things that’ll help in the future.”

  “The future.” She says that with a sigh, so I know it’s loaded with thoughts of this man. Her phone chirps, and she pulls it out of her back pocket, looks at the screen, and squeals. “It’s him.”

  I chuckle. “Don’t keep him waiting. Answer it.”

  For the first time in my adult life, I feel free and unrestrained. My marriage has always been pretty good, but with strong-willed young’uns and housework and holding down a job no one knows I have, I’ve felt
tense as a fiddle string.

  Jeremy is still recovering, but he’s doing just fine. In fact, he’s proud of the scab that remains on his elbow, and he shows it off to anyone who is willing to look. His preschool teachers have apologized for overreacting and thinking he might have broken his arm. I’m just relieved everything has turned out as well as it has.

  I have the job of my dreams, and to top it off, Digger not only knows about it, he encourages me by saying he’s proud of what I’ve managed to do. If I had to make a bet on his reaction a few months ago, I would have put money on him pitching a fit and making me quit.

  One of the things I look forward to when he gets home from work now is telling him about my day at the shop. He laughs at some of the things the customers do, and at times he even offers suggestions on how to deal with some of the more difficult situations.

  For the past couple of days, Amanda has had me working out on the sales floor as much as back in the office doing bookkeeping. Seems I have some decent fashion skills, too. Who knew? I’m certainly surprised.

  I’ve never been known as a fashion plate, but I have an eye for what looks good on other people. In fact, one of the women who has been shopping at La Chic ever since it opened will now only work with me. I think that’s why Amanda sticks me out on the floor as much as possible.

  Most days now, I go in early and start out in the office, making sure all the bills have been paid and the deposits have gone into the account. After I finish the bookkeeping, I check the sales floor to see if I’m needed. More times than not, I am.

  The store has only been open a few minutes on Tuesday when Amanda comes to my office door. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the sales floor? I need to make a couple of personal phone calls.”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to.” I walk out on the floor and see that there aren’t any customers, so I take advantage of the down time to do some organizing.

  I sort through the clothes on the racks and pull out anything that’s been on the floor since the last season to put it on the clearance rack. The volume of apparel we sell amazes me, and I still can’t get over how much people are willing to pay for it. Even some of the clearance items are priced higher than my budget will allow.