High Cotton

by Debby Mayne

  I make as much noise as possible getting all the food ready to bring to the reunion. Foster shows up at the kitchen door and gestures toward the pans of food. “Want me to carry that to your car?”

  “Nope. I can do it all by myself.”

  “But it’s heavy.” He walks over to the table where all the pans are laid out on trivets. “Mmm. Smells good. Mind if I put a little on a plate for later?”

  I swat at his hand. “Keep your hands off this food. It’s for the reunion.”

  “But I won’t take much.”

  “You heard me, Foster. If you want some of this, you’ll have to come to the reunion to get it.”

  He lifts both hands and backs away from it. “Okay, fine. Have it your way. I’ll just fix myself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich while you’re feasting on this delicious food.”

  “That’s your decision.” I go out to the garage and get a couple of boxes to make transporting the food easier.

  “Sure you don’t need some help?”

  “Positive.” I stack the pans in a crisscross manner to keep them from sinking down into each other. Then I carry them to my car, doing my best to ignore the man who alternates between the sensitive and loving man I married and some guy who is too clueless to understand why his macho actions bug me.

  “Aw, Missy, don’t be like that.” He takes a step closer but backs off when I snarl at him. “I thought you’d understand.”

  “Then you weren’t thinking with your brain.”

  He lifts one eyebrow, gives me a strange, head-tilted look, then goes inside, leaving me to finish loading the car. I force myself to plow ahead and not get too caught up in my hurt feelings. I don’t want anyone in the family to ever know there are problems in the Montague house.

  I go back inside and pick up a couple more pans to load in the car. I’ve barely arranged them when I turn around and see Foster standing by the door, buttoning his good work shirt like he’s going somewhere. I have one more load to bring to the car, so I edge past him without making physical contact.

  As soon as I turn my back on him, I feel his hand on my shoulder. “Missy, let me help you.”

  “I’m fine. I can do it.”

  “No, you can’t. I’m your husband, and it’s up to me to do things for you.” He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’ll only take me a couple shakes of a donkey’s tail, and I’ll have everything ready to go.” He turns me around to face him. “Then we can get on over to the reunion and help the folks set up.”

  I raise my gaze to meet his. “What did you say?”

  “I’m going with you.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “I’m really sorry for being so dense. I know this reunion is important to you. Why you want me to go, I have no idea, but after thinking about it, I’m actually kinda flattered that you do.”

  “Really?” I narrow my eyes and give him a long, hard look. I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to or what he wants from me. And then a wave of guilt washes over me. I want to be appreciative. I know how much he hates being around my family. Besides, I’m partly to blame for the way he acts because I’ve given in so much and become an enabler. “Are you sure?”

  Foster smiles and drops a kiss on my nose. “Positive. I feel bad that I didn’t take your feelings into consideration.” He chuckles. “Besides, I heard Bucky just got back from a trip to South America, and I want to know how the fishing was down there.”

  I should have known. “Okay, that’s fine. You can talk to Bucky all day if it makes you happy.”

  He tilts his head. “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Me?” I laugh. “Never.”

  “You’re really good at it, ya know.”

  I give him a curious look. “Good at what?”

  “Sarcasm. You’re funny, too, but I don’t like to always be the subject of your sharp tongue.”

  “Sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

  He gives me one of those grins that melt my insides. “C’mon, let’s move this stuff over to my truck.”

  “Why can’t we just take my car? It’s already packed.”

  “Are you kidding me? You drive a lady car. We’re taking my truck.”

  The finality in his tone lets me know there is no room for arguing, so I nod. Giving in on this is the least I can do since he’s definitely going with me now. It takes us less than five minutes to move everything to the backseat of his oversized cab. Then he makes a nest with some blankets and towels to cradle the Crock-Pots. After we have all of those loaded, he covers them with a tarp.

  I keep thinking about Elliot saying I look amazing. It sure would be nice if he truly believes it.

  “Are you sure we were supposed to turn back there?” He glances at the GPS on his dashboard. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything out here.”

  I laugh. “I’m positive. I thought you knew where we were going.”

  “I thought I did, too.” He turns to me and flashes what would have been a knee-weakening grin until recently. “But even if it isn’t the right turn, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be lost with.”

  He’s saying so many sweet things, I’ve almost forgotten that I had a momentary regret about asking him. As silence falls upon us, I decide to get the conversation going again to keep from getting buried in my own doubts.

  “How did you learn to cook so many different things?”

  Elliot smiles again, only this time not as wide. “I don’t want to discuss my ex, since I’m supposed to be past that, but I will say that she was never into anything domestic—cooking, cleaning, or any of those things. I had no choice but to learn.”

  “Oh.” I know he’s making a conscious effort not to discuss her, but there are a few things I’d like to know before I let my heart completely melt for him. “Does she work?”

  He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “She does some volunteer work, and she shops, but she’s never had a regular job.”

  “Did you want her to work?”

  “It really didn’t matter to me whether or not she worked. I made enough money so she could stay home if she wanted. But if she had a burning desire to have a career, that would have been fine, too.”

  So their divorce has nothing to do with his ex being too wrapped up in a career. I want to ask more questions, but I don’t want to upset Elliot. And I did make a big deal over his wallowing in the past.

  “Look, Shay, I understand why you want to know what happened in my marriage, and I’ll tell you all about it.” He gives me a very sweet, apologetic look. “But let’s not do that now. I’d like to enjoy today with you and your family.”

  I nod. “That’s fine. Sorry if I overstepped.”

  “You didn’t.” He narrows his eyes and points to the right. “Is that where we’re going?”

  “Yes.” My palms grow clammy. I’m excited and happy to have Elliot with me, but I’m nervous, too. Most of my family members are very outspoken, and there is no telling what they’ll say to him.

  “I see a house and a double-wide mobile home. Who lives in them?”

  “Grandpa Jay and Granny Marge used to live in the house, but when they got enough money, they bought the house of Granny’s dreams.”

  A smile tweaks the corners of Elliot’s lips. “The mobile home?”

  “Yeah.” I let out a laugh. “She remembers being a little girl and visiting a friend who lived in a double-wide. She thought it was the nicest house she’d ever seen, and that’s what she always wanted.”

  “At least she knows what she likes.”

  “Oh, yeah. Granny Marge has always known what she likes, and she won’t hesitate to let you know what it is.”

  “Who lives in the old house now?”

  “No one. They call it their guest cottage.”

  He chuckles. “Why not? It’s theirs to do with what they want.”

  I have to admit that he doesn’t seem to have a snobby bone in his body, unlike the last guy I dated. When he met a couple of my cousins, he called them rednecks. I l
aughed and said I had a little of that in me, too, but he didn’t mean it in a fun way. In his eyes, it was an insult. That was the last time we went out.

  I decide to address that with Elliot. “Some folks might balk at attending a redneck reunion, but you don’t seem to mind.”

  He bursts into laughter. “Are you kidding? Those are the best kind. In case you don’t already know this, our families are similar.”

  That’s what I’m talkin’ about.

  He pulls up beside my Uncle Bubba’s tricked-out truck with the flame decal on the sides, custom fluorescent hubcaps, and contrasting running board with flashing lights. “Nice wheels,” Elliot says. “I bet whoever owns that piece of work gets attention on the road.”

  “That would be my Uncle Bubba, and yes, he does.”

  Elliot chuckles. “I’m not surprised. If I remember correctly, Bubba has always enjoyed being the center of attention, but I can’t say I blame him. My daddy says Bubba was the Pinewood football hero back in the day.”

  I grin. “And you were the football hero of our day.”

  He turns to me and places his arm on the back of the seat, letting his hand brush my shoulder. I tingle at his touch.

  “Let me tell you a little secret, Shay. As the wide receiver, I made the touchdowns, but if it weren’t for the quarterback and the fullbacks, I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing. We had an awesome team.”

  I love the fact that he’s giving credit to the other guys on the team. “But you still caught the ball and managed to get to the goal without being tackled.”

  “Good coaching, a smart quarterback, and the biggest guards in the division helped me do that.” He turns away and opens his door. “We need to get out and put this stuff on those tables while there’s still room.”

  It blows me away that Elliot has brought more dishes than me. He has casseroles, pans of meat, and desserts.

  “Were you up all night cooking?”

  He nods. “Yeah, pretty much. I want to impress your family.”

  I can’t believe he’s actually admitting this . . . unless he’s just saying it for a reason I don’t yet know. It’s hard for me to believe that someone like Elliot would be so eager to impress my family after all these years.

  Elliot pulls out a couple of the smaller casseroles and hands them to me. “We’ll have to make several trips.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Once our arms are loaded up with pans, we make the trek to the tables that I know have been labeled by Mama and some of the other OCD family members. Heaven forbid we put a dessert on the salad table or vice versa. That would rank up there with breaking the Ten Commandments, which is saying a lot since my family takes God’s Word very seriously.

  We’ve barely put everything down when Uncle Bubba approaches, slaps Elliot on the back, and reaches for a handshake. “Hey, guy. I heard you were comin’. So whatcha been up to all these years?”

  Elliot shakes my uncle’s hand. “Not much. Just working hard.”

  “Yeah, I hear that’s how most people make a livin’, but not me. I’d rather let the land do all the work for me. Did you hear about how we struck oil?”

  Elliot glances at me, gives me a subtle wink, then turns his attention to Uncle Bubba. “Seems I heard something about that. Congratulations.”

  Uncle Bubba belts out one of his hearty chuckles that vibrate a room when he’s indoors but just sound loud out here. “Somethin’ pretty special about an old redneck like me makin’ good.”

  Uncle Irby steps up from behind. “You got that right. Take a redneck and put a million dollars in his hand, and what do you have?” He momentarily pauses, but before anyone has a chance to answer, he delivers the punch line. “A rich redneck with enough money to stock a chewin’ backy warehouse for life.”

  My uncles have a good laugh, while Elliot only smiles. I can tell he’s trying hard to be friendly, but he still looks uncomfortable. And I don’t think they’re funny at all.

  I gesture toward Elliot’s truck. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of the stuff.”

  “Y’all need any help?”

  “Thanks, Uncle Bubba, but I think we’ve got this.”

  “No problem. I didn’t want to help anyway.”

  As soon as we’re out of hearing distance, I turn to Elliot. “Sorry about that. He can be rather crude.”

  “Trust me, I understand much better than you realize. Your family doesn’t have anything on mine, though I don’t think any of my uncles have struck oil on their plot of the family farm.” We get to his truck, but before he opens the door, he gestures around the land. “Is any of this yours?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is family land, right?’

  “Yes, but most of it still belongs to my grandparents. Some of my relatives have asked for their inheritance early, and they gave it to them.”

  “Oh.” He is silent for a few seconds. “Will some of this be yours eventually?”

  Something inside me triggers an alarm. I wonder if he’s being so charming because he thinks I might strike it rich from the family land someday.

  Sara knocks on my bedroom door, but before I have a chance to tell her to come in, she opens the door. “Are you sure that guy’s gonna show up?”

  “He said he would.” I’m getting mighty nervous. Tom told me he’d be here at ten o’clock, and it’s already fifteen after.

  “Justin and I will wait a few more minutes to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “No, y’all go on without me. I don’t need anyone else making sure everything’s okay.”

  “Why are you acting this way, Sally?” Sara crosses the room and sits down on the edge of my bed.

  I glare at her before turning back to the mirror and pretending to fix my makeup. She doesn’t need to know how insecure I’m feeling right now. “I’m not acting any way. I just don’t like you hovering over me.”

  Sara laughs. “Not too long ago, you were the one doing the hovering. I couldn’t make a move without you right there next to me, telling me what to do and how to do it.”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “You sure did.” Sara sighs and smiles at me in the mirror. “But if you want to know the truth, I really didn’t mind. In fact, I liked it. At least, most of the time I did.” She smiles and sighs. “I knew you did it because you cared for me.”

  I don’t feel like having this conversation now. “Where’s Justin?”

  “He’s out at the truck, trying to get the bugs off the windshield while we wait for your guy.” She makes a face. “Those bugs are gross, so I told him I’d wait in here.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Are the pies ready to go?”

  “Yeah, and we picked up some chips and dip. That stuff you made looks amazing. Justin and I both took another look at them.”

  I stop what I’m doing as a sense of dread washes over me. “I hope you didn’t eat any of it.”

  “Just a bit last night, after you went to bed. Those meatballs were good.”

  I spin around and glare at her. “You knew I didn’t want you to eat those meatballs.”

  “I’m just kidding, Sally. We took another peek, but I told Justin you’d have a hissy fit if we so much as took one.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why do you keep doing stuff like that to me?”

  “Because you’re funny when you get mad.” She stands and straightens her top over her jeans. “I hope he gets—”

  The doorbell interrupts her. “That’s probably him.”

  “You wait right here. I’ll answer the door. He’s late, and you don’t want him thinking you’re waiting by the door.”

  “I’m not a teenager, silly.” I start for the door, but she pushes me back into my room.

  “I said I’d answer the door.” Sara gives me one of the looks Mama used to give us when she meant business.

  The sound of male voices in the living room lets me know Justin has already invited Tom inside. “Now you don’t have to.”

  “T
hen let’s get this show on the road.”

  Both Justin and Tom look up and smile as we enter the room. And even though Tom is as white-collar as Justin is blue-collar, they seem to be hitting it off quite well.

  Justin gestures toward his new friend. “You didn’t tell me he’s into cars.”

  Tom shuffles his feet and grins. “My uncle has a dealership, and he used to let me hang out with the mechanics.”

  “That’s how I learned, only not at a fancy dealership. My daddy has a tree in the backyard that gives just the right amount of shade to keep from burnin’ up.”

  Sara grins as she glances at me. “Now that our guys have met each other, let’s get going.”

  “Why don’t we all go in my car?” Tom asks. “It’s plenty big enough, and it’ll be fun.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Justin lifts a questioning eyebrow at Sara. “Okay with you?”

  Sara turns to me with the same inquisitive expression. I nod. “Sure.”

  After we load up the car with what Shay and I prepared and put Sara and Justin’s pies and chips in the trunk, we all pile into Tom’s very fancy car with the plush seats. “Nice wheels,” Justin says. “I bet this vehicle set you back a pretty penny.”

  Tom glances at me with a half smile. “It wasn’t cheap, but I plan to get my money’s worth. I’m not into trading cars every other year. I had the last one until it fell apart.”

  The guys do most of the talking while Sara and I listen and send visual signals via the mirror on my visor. I can tell she’s amused. I am, too, but it would be nice to have a conversation we can all enjoy.

  After we turn off the main road, I have to give detailed directions, since some of the country roads aren’t on his GPS. “You weren’t kidding when you said this was out in the boonies,” Tom says.

  I scrunch my face and look at him. “I didn’t say that.”

  Justin howls with laughter. “I did.”

  I don’t find any humor in that, but I don’t say anything else about it. There’s no point in voicing my thoughts about my sister’s husband’s opinion or choice of words.

  Tom has brought some things, so the four of us load our arms with the massive amount of food. As we get closer to the crowd that has already formed, Sara slows way down.