High Cotton

by Debby Mayne

  I turn and am starting for the table where Shay and Digger are sitting when Foster clears his throat. I turn around. “What’s wrong?”

  “Aren’t we going to get some of your chili?”

  “We have to get bowls, and we don’t have enough hands.”

  He gives me a duh look. “Then let’s go put this stuff down and come back for it. Tasting some of your chili is one of the main reasons I agreed to come.”

  I sigh as I realize my husband is sweet-talking me the only way he knows how. And I love him even more for it. I also realize something about myself—that all I need are a few words of affirmation from the man I love.

  As we head for the table, Puddin’ looks up, waves, and says something to the rest of the people at the concrete picnic table. They all move over to make room for us.

  “Hey, y’all,” she says. “I’ve been wonderin’ where you were. We saw you for a few minutes, and then you disappeared.”

  I start to say something about getting lost in the crowd since we’re such a big family, when Foster speaks up. “I’ve been all mopey about these danged hearing aids, but Missy tells me I’m being stupid.”

  My chin drops. “I never said you were being stupid.”

  “Not with your mouth, but I could tell you were thinking it.” He laughs at himself. “And she’s right. Lots of folks wear glasses, and what’s the difference? If they help me hear, that’s a good thing, right?”

  Everyone at the table appears stunned as they nod. Foster has never been this chatty around my family. “Oh, absolutely,” Puddin’ says. Her voice is quite a bit louder, which I know must bug Foster to no end.

  “You don’t have to talk so loud now, Puddin’.” Foster puts his plates down and points to his ears. “I can hear you loud and clear. I have hearing aids now, remember?”

  Her face turns bright red, and her eyes flutter. “Oh, yes, of course. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” Foster tips his head toward me and points toward the lineup of slow cookers. “Now let’s go get some of the best chili south of the Mason-Dixon.”

  We’re about ten feet from the table when I hear Puddin’ call out. “I don’t think there’s any of your chili left, Missy. Y’all are late gettin’ to the Crock-Pot table.”

  “There’d better be some left,” Foster mumbles. “No one makes chili like you.”

  Puddin’ is right. There’s not even a smidge of my chili left in any of the Crock-Pots. In fact, it looks like someone licked the inside of a couple of them clean. I glance at all the dials and see that they’re still on, so I turn them off and unplug them.

  “What are we gonna do?” Foster asks.

  “There’s more chili in those other pots.”

  “But I want yours.” He pouts again. “I don’t want that other cr—”

  I stop him. “Don’t insult anyone else’s chili until you’ve tried it.” I get closer to him and whisper, “You might hurt someone’s feelings, so hush now. I’ll make you some next weekend if you really want it.”

  He sighs as he grabs a bowl and scoops half of a ladle of someone else’s chili into it. “This doesn’t even smell like yours.”

  Deep down, I’m smiling, but I don’t want to let on. “Behave yourself, Foster. We’re here to see the family, and the food is just a bonus.” As we walk past the dessert table, I see him craning his neck. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

  “I think I’ll just get mine now.” He stops, but I playfully yank his arm.

  “Oh, no you don’t. You’re eating your vegetables first.”

  “You sound like my mama.”

  “All mamas sound alike.” I nudge him toward our table and follow behind.

  Puddin’ glances down at Foster’s bowl. “I told you there wasn’t any left. I heard it was good. You might need to bring more next time.”

  I nod. “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “I wanted my wife’s chili.” Foster starts to pout then looks at me. I shake my head and give him one of those wifely looks.

  Puddin’ gives him a sympathetic smile. “At least she can make it at home where no one else can get it.”

  I start to agree with her, but Foster speaks up. “It’s not as good at home. I like it better when I get something other people want.”

  The impact of his comment hits me hard. When I glance over at Puddin’, I see it affects her the same way.

  As I try to eat, his words ring through my head, and I lose my appetite. Back when Foster and I first met, I was dating someone else. He took a liking to me and pursued me until I stopped seeing that other guy. Now everyone in my family knows my husband has lost interest in me.

  I get up before the tears start and take a step toward the old barn that hasn’t been used in years. Back when it had chickens and cows, I would go in there and talk to them. They always listened without talking back, and I knew I could count on them keeping secrets.

  “Where ya goin’, Missy?” Foster gives me a brief glance but quickly turns his attention to his dessert.

  “Just over there, to the barn. I heard Grandpa Jay is thinking about knocking it down, so I thought I’d go take another look around for old times’ sake.”

  “Be careful, girl. It’s a shambles, and I don’t want anything falling on your head. Who’d do my laundry and cook my supper?”

  I know he’s joking, but it still hurts. And now I understand that it’s mostly my fault. I’ve made life way too easy for him. I have some serious thinking to do, and that’s impossible with so many people around. The barn has always been my thinking place.

  I almost choke on my pie over Foster’s comment. The pain on Missy’s face and the slump of her shoulders let me know this hasn’t just started. It’s deep.

  Everyone at the table has grown quiet, even Elliot. I glance at him and see that he’s aware of what’s going on.

  He gives me a brief smile. “Would you like to see if there’s any more dessert left?”

  I nod. “Sounds good.”

  We’re halfway to the dessert table when Elliot clears his throat and stops. “I’m not sure what just happened back there, but it looks to me like your cousin and her husband have some issues.”

  “Ya think?” The instant those words leave my mouth, I realize how sarcastic I sound. “Sorry, but I feel bad for Missy.”

  “So do I.” He squeezes his lips together as he shakes his head. “Contrary to what people might think, not all men are pigs.”

  “Who said they were?”

  “No one.” He glances over his shoulder toward the table we just left. “I’m not even sure Foster is, but one thing I do know is he could use some lessons on how to treat a lady.”

  “I agree.”

  “And another thing.” He gives me a sweet smile. “I’m not sure what’s going on between us, but I sense a change. I thought you might be interested in seeing how things go between us, but . . .” He shrugs. “I’m not so sure now.”

  I sigh. “I’m sorry, Elliot. I’ve been distracted lately.”

  Elliot tips his head toward a crowd of my relatives listening to the youth pastor. “Is your distraction named Joe?”

  I want to tell him no, that it’s more complicated than that. But I can’t, in all honesty, make such a statement. So I shrug. “Maybe a little, but there are other things going on in my life.”

  “I understand.” He gestures toward the dessert table. “And believe it or not, I’m fine with that. I’ve discovered that it’s best to wait for things to happen rather than rush them. If you need to get to know him and compare us before you decide who you like better, I’d rather you do it now instead of later.”

  “Compare you?”

  He nods. “I have to put myself in your shoes, and I assume you would want the better of the two guys.”

  “That makes me sound terrible.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he says. “I’m just being honest and real, which is the best way to start off in a relationship.”

  Now I’m more confu
sed than ever. I never expected to have this conversation with Elliot, and now that I have, I find his pragmatism odd but appealing.

  “Shay, I’m attracted to you, but there is one thing I need to add. Even though I want you to be sure about your feelings, I’m still human.”

  I’m not sure exactly what point he’s trying to make, but I have a pretty good idea. He’s not willing to wait around forever. And I get that.

  The crowd around Joe starts laughing hysterically. Elliot chuckles. “Sounds like he’s charming the socks off your family.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “I wish he wasn’t such a nice guy, but I have to admit, I like him, too. I think he and I could be pretty good friends if it weren’t for . . .”

  This whole conversation keeps getting stranger. I’m still attracted to Elliot, but I have to admit I’m confused. One minute, Elliot’s the sweetest guy I know. Then someone brings up the oil on the property and I get that strange feeling he’s more interested in my family’s assets than he is me. Granted, he’s never come out and said a single word about any nefarious intentions, but the thought continues to hover in the back of my brain that he might be interested in something other than my wonderful personality and intellect.

  “Do you want to go see what’s so funny over there?” Elliot turns his head in a teasing manner as he gestures toward the crowd.

  I’m dying to see what’s going on, but I am with Elliot, and I don’t want to be one of those dates. “Do you?”

  He laughs. “Sure, let’s go check it out.” He holds out his hand, palm up. “After you, m’lady.”

  Joe does a double take as we approach, and then he smiles. Directly at me! I sort of smile back, but my lips have started twitching from nervousness. My insides churn as Elliot gently guides me toward the group.

  “Come on over, you guys. I was just about to tell another story.”

  Elliot leans down and whispers, “He said, ‘you guys.’”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “You’re not a guy.” He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows. “Your friend Joe may not have noticed, but I certainly have.” I can’t help but see the look of admiration in his eyes.

  I feel a flutter of flattery floating through my body. I know, I know. It’s just words and a look. But I’ve never had someone act this way over me, and I like it.

  Elliot gently positions me in front of him so I can get a better view. He’s acting rather odd for someone who is worried I’ll like another guy more than him, but maybe that’s just the southern gentleman coming out. Based on what I know, mamas work so hard to drill it into their male offspring, it runs deep and seeps out of the pores, even to the detriment of the guys.

  Joe widens his smile momentarily before beginning his new story about something that happened at his former church. As he delivers one punch line after another, people chuckle. But I don’t. There’s something about his stories that either don’t ring true, or he’s telling stories that the subjects might not want people to know about. In fact, some of his comments sound mean. The more he talks, the lower my interest in him dips.

  Elliot takes advantage of a brief break while Joe sips some sweet tea. “He’s funny, isn’t he?”

  I frown. “I’m not sure.”

  He feigns surprise. “You’re not sure? Then why are all these folks laughing?”

  My frown deepens as I look Elliot in the eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  “So tell me, Shay. Why don’t you think he’s funny?” I can see in his eyes that he knows. In fact, that’s probably why he wanted me to hear Joe’s stories.

  “He might not be as nice as I thought he was.”

  Elliot puts his arms around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “That’s my girl. You’re such a kindhearted person, I can’t imagine you ever thinking someone else’s troubles are funny.”

  “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

  He smiles and gives me a clipped nod. “I confess, I had a feeling it might.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because there are some things a person needs to know firsthand.” He lets go of my shoulder and takes me by the hand. “I also have a feeling there are other things on your mind, so why don’t we talk about it soon and you can tell me what’s going on.”

  I am so glad I brought Tom to this family thing, but I’m getting annoyed. Justin won’t stop talking to him, and he’s my date.

  My sister and I are sitting on the edge of the tabletop while Justin and Tom talk sports. They’ve pretty much ignored us for the past half hour.

  Sara turns to me with a humongous smile on her face. “Isn’t it nice that they get along so well?”

  “Just peachy.”

  “What?” Her joyful expression has turned into a look of disbelief. “I thought you’d be thrilled our guys can be friends.”

  “I don’t know if he’s my guy.” I lift my hands in frustration. “And as long as Justin’s around, I’ll never know.”

  “Tell me something, Sally. Why don’t you like Justin?”

  “Who says I don’t like him?”

  “Trust me. I know you better than you know yourself. You dislike my husband with a passion.”

  “I do not.” Really, I don’t. It’s just that, not only has he taken my sister away from me, he’s now doing the same thing with the guy I’ve been wanting to get to know for a long time.

  Sara slides off the tabletop and brushes off the seat of her jeans. “Tell you what, sis. I’ll see if I can pull Justin away so you can have some time with Tom. Maybe sometime next week we can have a family meeting.”

  “Family meeting?” I scrunch my nose. “You hated it when Mama and Daddy used to have those.”

  “I’m an adult now. I understand the value of open communication.”

  “No,” I remind her. “They had those family meetings to tell us it was their way or the highway.”

  “Whatever. I think it’s time for the three of us to discuss our feelings and figure out a way to get along. There’s no point in any of us having hard feelings. Justin and I are married, and I plan to do whatever it takes to stay that way.”

  I know she’s referring to my bad attitude when she mentions hard feelings, but I can’t help it. She didn’t even bother to ask how I felt about her marrying Justin. And sometimes I wonder if she had time to think about her own feelings before taking the plunge.

  I get off the table and resist the urge to brush off the seat of my shorts. Now that Sara has decided to move on with her life, I think it’s time for us to stop being so much alike. I can’t help the fact that we look exactly like each other, but I don’t have to do everything she does. I might even cut my hair soon.

  “We can have the talk, but I can’t promise I’ll feel any different about him.”

  She shrugs. “Suit yourself. I can’t control your feelings any more than you can control mine.”

  Before I can say another word, she walks up to Justin, whispers something in his ear, and walks away with him, hand in hand.

  Tom stands there looking at them, then turns to me with confusion. “What just happened?” he asks.

  “I think my sister wants to spend some time with her new husband.”

  “Oh.” He slaps his forehead. “I forgot about them being newlyweds.”

  He clearly forgot about the fact that he’s my date as well, but there’s no need to remind him now that Sara has taken Justin out of the picture. “Do you want to get more food?”

  Tom rubs his belly. “If I thought I could fit anything else in here, I would. It’s all so good.” He grins. “Your family has a lot of great cooks.”

  “Everyone brings their best dish here. They like to show off.”

  “I like your family. Mine is okay, but they’re scattered all over the country, and they don’t bother organizing anything like this.”

  “But you still have your immediate family. You get to see them at work every day, don’t you?”
>
  He nods in a half-hearted way. “Most days, but my sisters are getting tired of the family business, and sometimes I find myself doing everything without them.”

  “At least you have job security,” I remind him.

  “True, but to be honest with you, if I had my choice of jobs, it wouldn’t be in the children’s apparel field.” He steps closer, takes my hand, and holds it between both of his. “One thing I do believe, though, is the Lord has me there for a reason.” He widens and then narrows his eyes as if trying to tell me something without saying it.

  “Probably.”

  “I’ve always wondered what that reason might be.” He squeezes my hand and gives me a warm smile.

  “One of these days, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  “I think I might have just figured it out. He wanted me to meet you.” He opens his arms wide. “And your family.”

  As much as I’ve wanted to get to know him, I’m not so sure he’s right. But I don’t dare say that because I don’t want to make him feel bad. Yeah, I like him okay, but he doesn’t leave me feeling all giddy inside like I thought he might.

  “Why don’t we go over there and chat with your other cousins?” He points toward the picnic table where Puddin’, Digger, Shay, and the guy she’s with are sitting.

  “Okay.”

  I’m not sure what to say to him now that I know he isn’t interested in the children’s apparel business. Actually, I’m not either, but I’ll probably continue making hair bows because it beats working at the bank.

  Puddin’ grins as soon as we get close to the table. “Hey, y’all. I wondered where you disappeared to.”

  Digger doesn’t even look up, but Shay greets us, too. Her date stands and extends his hand to Tom.

  “Where’s your sister?” Puddin’ asks.

  I can tell she’s not sure which twin I am, even though I’m clearly not the married one, so I decide to help her out. “Sara and Justin went off somewhere to talk. Mind if we join you?”

  Shay makes a gesture toward the other side of the table. “Have a seat. Looks like your meatballs were a hit. They practically flew off the tray.”