High Cotton

by Debby Mayne

  I have to blink a couple of times when I walk inside. Mama is sitting on the sofa, and Grandpa Jay is telling her a story that has her and Granny Marge laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Grandpa Jay turns to me. “I was just tellin’ your mama about the time me and some of the boys I used to play with set the outhouse on fire. Daddy gave us a whuppin’ I’ll never forget.”

  I’m not sure what to think about this. All my life, I’ve seen Grandpa Jay as a pillar of perfection—or at least as perfect as humanly possible. He’s never raised his voice or acted in any way that goes against his faith when I’m around. He works hard and appreciates all of his blessings, and he never hesitates to thank the Lord for everything. Granny Marge is the traditional female version of him—nurturing, working hard, keeping a clean house, and bringing up all of their children to be God-loving people. Some of their grandkids . . . well, that’s obviously a different story.

  “Missy called from the hospital,” Granny Marge says. “She has some cuts, but they’re not too deep.”

  “That’s a relief. It could have been so much worse.” I turn to Grandpa Jay. “Someone could have been killed.”

  “Oh, I know that. But no one was, so let’s consider it a blessing. The Lord was looking out for everyone.”

  I’m surprised by how coolheaded my grandfather is over what looks to me like a serious situation. “Anyone know what Missy was doing in the barn?”

  “Nope.” Grandpa Jay shakes his head. “She knows we’ve been planning to take that barn down because one of the rafters fell and the rest of them are loose. It was ready to collapse anyway. I’m sure that’s probably why she was standin’ so close to the back door.”

  I remember watching her take off with the paramedics. She looked like an emotional mess, so she probably wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Those boys will be just fine as long as their mamas and daddies make them suffer sufficiently,” Grandpa Jay continues. “When you inflict pain, you need to feel pain in some way, or you don’t have a good understanding of how bad it can be, especially at their age.” He shakes his head. “It’s a wonder anyone lives through the teenage years.”

  “So you’re saying, ‘an eye for an eye.’”

  He gives me a clipped nod. “Exactly. Shay, you’ve always been a smart girl, and I don’t remember you ever doing anything bad. I bet your mama’s proud of you.”

  Before I can speak up, Mama reaches for me and pulls me closer. “You bet I am. My girl has never given me a lick of trouble, even when she was a teenager. Now Digger . . .” Mama shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “That boy is a whole other matter. I’m just glad he’s all grown up now, but I hope he gets a grip on his young’uns. That Brett is at such a formative age, and if he keeps hanging out with—”

  Grandpa Jay cuts her off with one of the looks he’s known for. “Remember there were two of them, Irma. You have to be careful talkin’ about kinfolk like that. Especially young’uns.”

  “I know, but—”

  “You don’t want Julius’s mama talkin’ about Brett like he’s the bad influence, now do you?”

  “No, of course not.” Mama’s lips tighten.

  “Then don’t be talkin’ about her young’un like there’s something wrong with him, other than the fact that he’s nothin’ but a child in a man’s body. I think us grown-ups tend to expect too much from someone who hasn’t had enough life experience to understand some of the facts as we know them.”

  I remember that I have a date out there waiting for me. “I just wanted to check on y’all to make sure you were okay. I’m sure Elliot wonders what’s going on.”

  “You best get back to him then,” Grandpa Jay says with a chuckle. “He seems like a good boy.”

  “He’s divorced,” Mama says. “I don’t know if Shay should be seein’ a divorced man.”

  “Oh, come on, Irma. People make mistakes. How would you feel if Shay was the one who had a bad marriage she had to get out of and someone held it against her?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Mama lifts her chin in a prideful way. “My kids aren’t divorced.”

  Grandpa Jay tilts his chair back and lets out another hearty laugh. “You got a good point there, but don’t forget that you have to get married before you get divorced. Let Shay have some fun seeing whatever man meets her fancy.” He stops smiling and tips his head toward me. “As long as he believes in our almighty Savior and commits his life to Him, she can even marry him.”

  Mama’s eyes almost pop out of her head. “You’re not talkin’ marriage, are you, Shay?”

  I glance at Grandpa Jay and see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He’s clearly pulling Mama’s chain. “Not yet.”

  “Are you . . . I mean, do you think—?”

  I shake my head. “We’ve only seen each other a few times, so don’t worry.”

  Granny Marge speaks up. “Your grandpa and I will be ready for the reception if you do, thanks to the dance lessons y’all gave us.”

  Grandpa Jay groans. “Don’t rush things, Marge.”

  Since I haven’t had any long heart-to-heart talks with Elliot yet, I don’t want to speak on his behalf about his beliefs or intentions. Instead, I make my way to the door. “If y’all need me, I’ll be around for another half hour or so.”

  Mama turns around and gives me a sad look. “Thanks for checkin’ on us. I’ll be out there in a little while to see how Digger and Puddin’ are holdin’ up.”

  Once I step back outside, I take a look around at the crowd that hasn’t diminished as much as it usually would have by this time. My gaze settles momentarily on Joe. He gives me a thumbs-up sign, and I smile. Then I shield my eyes and look around to find Elliot.

  “Looking for someone?”

  I jump and turn toward the voice behind me. It’s Elliot, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch Grandpa Jay and Uncle Bubba built. My heart starts to do that flippy thing it did before I had doubts about him.

  I’m sitting here at the hospital listening to my husband tell me how scared he was that he might have lost me. “I love you, Missy.” That’s like the zillionth time he’s said this.

  Who is this man? In all the years we’ve been married, I don’t think I’ve heard him say, “I love you,” as much as he has in the past hour.

  “I thought I lost you.” His red-rimmed eyes remind me that, when I first spotted him right after the blast, he was crying. “It’s all my fault that you were even in the barn. Missy, will you please forgive me for not being as good a husband as you deserve?”

  I place my hands on either side of his face. “I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

  “I have to. The only reason you were in the barn was because I was acting like such a—” He cuts himself off, letting me know he’s willing to work on his language. “I’ll make it up to you.” He straightens up. “Starting tonight, I’ll help you around the house, and you can pick the restaurant next time we eat out.”

  In spite of the fact that the lacerations on my face still sting like crazy, I laugh. “Have you ever vacuumed the floor?”

  He chews on his lip as a thoughtful expression washes over his face. “I think I might have a time or two. I’m sure I’ll mess up, but I can learn.”

  “Would you mind doing that for me?”

  “I’ll do anything for you.” He gives me a tender look. “You may not realize this, Missy, but I would have done anything for you before this happened.”

  I blink and swallow hard. As I look my husband in the eyes, I realize how blind I’ve been to the love we have. I kept seeing the things that were wrong with him and ignoring his good qualities.

  He might even do a terrible job at helping out around the house, but I now realize I need to let him try. It’ll make him more invested in the marriage, and once he gets good at it, I’ll have better feelings about him. It’s clear to me now that a lot of what angered me was partly my fault because I expected him to read my mind.

 
“Where do you want to go tonight?” he asks as he takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

  “Home. I’m exhausted.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you someplace special?”

  “Positive.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “It would take more makeup than I own to get ready for dinner out.”

  “You look beautiful to me.”

  My heart melts. I think he really believes that.

  “I’ll buy you whatever you need.”

  “Please, Foster, let’s just go home as soon as the doctor releases me. If you want to go back out and pick up some carryout for supper, that’ll be good.”

  “Whatever you want, Missy.”

  My cell phone rings, so I glance at it. “It’s Mama,” I say. “I need to take this.”

  He backs away. “Go right ahead. I’ll go talk to the nurses. Let me know when you’re done.”

  I nod and give him a little wave as I put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mama.”

  “I’m on my way to the hospital. I just wanted to make sure you’re still there.”

  I stifle a groan. I’m not in the mood to see anyone but my husband, especially Mama, who’ll go on and on about the miscreant young’uns. “They’re releasing me soon, so I’ll probably be gone by the time you get here.”

  “Then I’ll go to your house.”

  “Can you wait until tomorrow? I’m really tired tonight.”

  “Then why don’t I bring you some food? I know that self-centered husband of yours won’t do anything.”

  “Mama, please don’t do this. Foster is taking care of everything.”

  “Are you sure?” I hear the doubt in her voice, and I’m not surprised. “I’m your mama, and I have your best interests at heart, unlike your—” Mama stops herself, and I’m glad she does. I’ve always had to apologize for Foster with my parents, and I’m totally not in the mood for that, especially now that I’ve finally figured out I’ve always been part of the problem.

  “Can you come over in the morning? I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can talk then.”

  “Okay. I’ll stop at the bakery and get some of your favorite carrot bran muffins.”

  After we hang up, I lean around and make eye contact with my husband. He says something to the medical people before coming back to me. One of the nurses rolls her eyes when his back is to her, so I quickly look away so she doesn’t know I saw that.

  He leans down to look me in the eyes. “What did your mama want?”

  “She wants to come here, but I told her we’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Do you want to invite her and your daddy to have supper with us?”

  He’s still trying to prove himself, and that touches my heart in a way it wouldn’t have before the barn incident. He and Daddy don’t get along at all. Never have and, I suspect, never will.

  “No, I’m too tired tonight. I just want to relax and go to bed early.”

  “Then let’s see about getting you outta here.” He turns to go back to the nursing station, but I reach out and grab his arm.

  “They’ll release me when it’s time. For now, I’d just like you to stay here with me.”

  Foster frowns and nods. He sits down beside me and we hold each other, just like we did when we first got married. I find his simple gesture comforting.

  It’s almost an hour before the doctor finally comes around, takes a brief look at the cuts on my face, and says I can leave. “Stay out of burning barns, Missy, and you should be just fine.”

  I smile at his feeble attempt at a joke. Foster scowls at him, so I yank him by the arm and pull him toward the door. I’m so not in the mood for a showdown.

  Every couple of minutes on the way home, Foster glances over at me and gives me a forced smile. In the past, I would have been suspicious. But now that my eyes are open, I see how hard he’s trying.

  When we get home, he tells me to wait for him to help me out of the car. Okay, I like this gentlemanly gesture. But when he tries to carry me, I hold up my hand.

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

  “But—”

  “Just open the door for me, and I’ll be fine.”

  We go inside, and he rushes around, turning on lights and asking if there’s anything I need. “Do you want the remote before I leave?” he asks.

  “Sure.” I’m not in the mood to watch TV, but he’s trying so hard, I don’t want to say no.

  “Do you want a burger, chicken, or Mexican?” He picks up the keys and stares at me as he waits for my answer.

  I’m not hungry, but I know what he likes. “Burger.”

  A grin tweaks the corners of his lips, but he quickly resumes his serious expression. “Are you sure? I thought you liked—”

  “I’m positive.” I’d like to be alone with my thoughts—and my pain—for a little while.

  “I won’t be long. If you need something, call me, okay?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Once he’s out the door, I let out a deep sigh. Today is one day I’ll never forget as long as I live.

  “Mama.”

  I glance up and see my daughter standing at the door. “Hey, Wendy. I thought you were going to try to come to the family picnic.”

  “Things got a little crazy.” She squints. “What happened to you?”

  “I was in Grandpa Jay and Granny Marge’s barn when it exploded.”

  “Their barn exploded?” She drops her handbag and comes closer. “How did that happen?”

  I tell her what I know—some of it foggy, since most of what I heard came from the paramedics. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it when your daddy gets home.” I pick up my phone. “Speaking of your daddy, he’s getting burgers. What do you want?”

  She shrugs. “I’m not hungry. I had something on the way home.”

  “Are you sure? How about French fries and a Coke?”

  “I guess that’d be okay.”

  I call Foster and give him Wendy’s order. When I click the Off button, Wendy is busy texting on her phone. I watch her expression go from vaguely interested to one of stunned disbelief.

  She looks up at me with wide eyes. “Mama, why didn’t you tell me you almost died?”

  “I did. I said I was in the barn when it blew up.”

  “That’s insane. Did Julius and Brett go to jail?”

  “They’re not old enough.”

  Wendy shakes her head, still clearly shocked. “Something needs to happen to them. Why would they do something so stupid?”

  She looks down at her phone, mumbles something I can’t hear well enough to understand, and does some thumb typing. What strikes me about this conversation is how, when I told her about the explosion, she didn’t seem all that concerned. However, as she gets more information from her text messages, it seems more real.

  “Who are you texting?” I ask.

  “Hallie. She says Brett’s grounded until he graduates.”

  I can’t help but smile. When those boys came into the barn, I heard Brett telling Julius it might not be such a good idea and that maybe they should do whatever it was outside. I had no idea what they were talking about at the time. Fortunately for me, I’d made my way to the back door, so I was barely inside when they lit the firecracker fuse. After that, everything’s a blur.

  “Mama, why are you smiling like nothing happened? You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t.” For some strange reason, I’m not as upset about what happened as everyone else around me seems to be. Maybe the whole thing hasn’t sunk in yet. Or maybe it changed me in a good way.

  “I know, but . . .” Wendy flinches, and her face gets all scrunched up like it did when she was a toddler about to cry. She steps closer to me and points to the spot next to me on the couch. “Mind if I sit there?”

  I pat it. “Please do.”

  She lets out a deep breath as she lowers herself onto the cushion and leans into me. Before I have a chance to put my arm around her, she jumps back. �
�Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  She resumes her position, and I hug her close. We haven’t done this since she was a little girl. Too bad it takes something terrible to bring us close again. And too bad it took an explosion that could have killed me to realize how hard I was being on my husband.

  Elliot has driven me home, and now we’re standing on my front doorstep. He’s holding my hand, and I sense he’d like to give me a kiss. But I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do—at least not now. I started the day with some questions that were mostly answered, but the way it ended makes a kiss seem trivial. And I would never want my kisses trivialized.

  “I like you, Shay.” Elliot tugs my hand, so I’m forced to turn and face him. “I like you a lot. There’s something special about you that makes me wonder how I can be so fortunate to be standing here with you right now.”

  I like Elliot, too. His rescue and the fact that he’s still with me right now, after the craziness during the day with my family, say something about him.

  Instead of telling him how I feel, I smile as I look up at him. “Thank you for what you did for Missy. It could have been tragic.”

  “That’s why I did it. I’m glad everything turned out okay, though.”

  “Do you want to come inside for a few minutes?”

  He purses his lips for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  I pull out my key and unlock the door. He follows me as I walk through to the kitchen, turning on lights as I go.

  “Want something to drink?”

  “I’ll take water, if you have some.”

  I smile. “I’m pretty sure I have some of that.”

  Once I pour two glasses of ice water, I set them on the table and gesture toward the chair across from mine. “Have a seat.”

  He sits, takes a sip of his water, and rests his elbows on the table. I can tell he wants to talk, but he’s not sure where to begin, so I start.

  “What do you think of my family now?” I study his expression, hoping for a clue before he speaks.

  “They’re better than I thought.”

  “Huh?” I lean back and give him a dubious look.