“Ida doesn’t have children. As a matter of fact, she hates all kids, except for Abby, Toots’s daughter. Ida’s one of her three godmothers. Ida isn’t much of a people person, either. She likes herself too much.” Bernice was not going to allow either of them to even act like they had any common ground. She would kick Ida so hard in her uppity ass . . . she’d have to yank her foot out with a crowbar! Miss Ida was not going to stick her claws into her son’s anything.
“For crying out loud, Bernice, you’re making me sound like an ogre. I do, too, like children, and people. I’m selective, that’s all.” Her gentle laugh rippled throughout the dining room. Daniel caught her eye; and in return, she gave him one of her sexiest smiles. She knew this to be true because she spent hours in front of the mirror practicing.
He laughed, too, the sound rich and vibrant. “Mother, I think you’re embarrassing your friend.”
“She isn’t my friend,” Bernice shot back, then backtracked. “I mean, I met her because she’s one of Abby’s godmothers. We became friends through Toots.”
“Where is Robert tonight? I thought he would be here with another one of his dreadful recipes,” Ida said, taking control of the conversation. “Robert is your mother’s love, uh, I meant her male friend. They like to cook. Rather, Bernice does. Robert spends his days searching for recipes.” Ida shot Bernice the fuck-you look.
Daniel laughed. “I see you two bring out the best in one another. Mom, I’d love to meet Robert. If he’s with you, then he must be one of the good guys.”
“He’s a very nice man. We are just friends, nothing more.”
Ida cleared her throat and raised her perfectly sculpted brows. “So you say.”
“Ida, shut up, for Pete’s sake! You have no clue what our relationship’s about.”
“Oh, hush! We sound like a couple of schoolgirls. You don’t want to frighten Daniel away his first night, now, do you?” Ida said in her most pleasant, fake voice.
Bernice rolled her eyes. “Nope, I don’t. Now, before you arrived, I was having a nice conversation with my son. If you will excuse us, I’d like to finish.”
Daniel stood then, stretching. Bernice watched Ida ogle him as if he were the catch of the day.
And something told her this was just the beginning.
“Actually, I’m wiped out. If you don’t mind, direct me to my bed, and we can start over in the morning.”
Bernice pursed her lips, something she did when she was pissed. “You can stay in the room across from mine. The sheets are clean.” She wanted to add it was the farthest from Ida’s room, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t matter. Maybe she should send him to her house. It wasn’t like she lived there every day. She made sure to go over at least once a month to air out the place.
Ida stood, too. “I say we all call it a night. I’ve had such a long three days. Those lights are torturous on my skin.”
Again, Ida rolled her eyes.
“I can’t see the first wrinkle on your face. Your complexion is as smooth as a teenager’s,” Daniel said.
“Yeah, and teenagers have acne,” Bernice quipped.
“You’re mean-spirited, Bernice. You know that?” Ida said. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Daniel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, Ida headed upstairs, knowing Daniel’s eyes were on her as she sashayed out of the room. Her hips were swinging like a young girl’s walking on the boardwalk.
“Lead the way, Mom. I really am pooped.”
Bernice nodded. “Come on, son. I’ll tell you a goodnight story.”
It would go something like this: “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived an old whore named Ida.”
Chapter 23
The Clay Plantation was lit up like Dodger Stadium. “I can’t imagine what’s so important that it can’t wait until morning. This is so unlike Abby,” Toots said for the umpteenth time, in the last ten minutes.
Phil stopped at the gate and punched in the code. “She’s fine, Toots. I’m guessing she’s overly excited about the arrival of the animals in the morning. This is a big undertaking. I admire her.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right, but she said it was very important. Not that the animals aren’t . . . I just know it’s something serious. She’s been sick a lot lately.”
He steered the Mercedes down the long drive and parked next to Abby’s yellow MINI Cooper. He opened Toots’s door, and she practically leaped out of the car, running to the front door of the house. She knocked, then called out, “Abby, we’re here!”
They stepped inside the entryway. “Abby? Chris?”
“Mom, we’ll be right down!” Abby shouted from somewhere upstairs. Toots recalled when she and Garland lived here for the brief time they were married, before he died so unexpectedly. The furnishings were the same. Mostly, family antiques. Toots hadn’t wanted to redecorate when they’d lived here because she knew the plantation would one day belong to Chris. Even though Garland had left a large part of his estate to her, she’d willed it back to Chris as soon as he’d graduated from law school. She’d wanted her stepson to make any and all decisions when it came to the family estate. Never in a million years had she thought that he and Abby would live here as a married couple.
Abby, followed by a smiling Chris, who looked how the cat who ate the canary was supposed to look, greeted them at the bottom of the staircase.
“Abby, I am so worried about you! What’s wrong?” Toots asked.
“Do you mind if we go to the kitchen? I’m sure I have another pitcher of sweet tea.” Abby made the best sweet tea ever.
“Of course not,” Toots said, trailing her daughter. “Are you sick, Abby? Please don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
Abby turned to face her mother. “Mom! I’m fine. I don’t know why you would even think such a thing. I’m fine. Really. I couldn’t be better. Right, Chris?” Abby winked at her husband.
“Yep, she’s as fit as a fiddle.”
“Phil, you want tea?” Abby asked.
“I wouldn’t turn your ice tea down for all the tea in China,” Phil cajoled.
Chris filled four glasses with ice, while Abby made quick work of slicing a lemon. She pulled a few sprigs of mint from the mini herb garden she’d planted in small, colorful pots positioned decoratively along the windowsill. Then Abby got the tea out of the refrigerator and poured the cold brew over the ice.
“Abby, hurry up. I know you’re up to something. I’ve never in my life seen anyone take so long to pour a glass of tea.”
Chris burst out laughing. “Your mom knows you well, doesn’t she?”
“Shhh, this is important.” Abby grinned and filled the glasses, bringing them to the table, two at a time. When she was satisfied, she sat across from her mom and Phil. Chris took the seat next to her. He reached for her hand, covering it with his own.
“Abby!” Toots appealed. “Spit it out! If you weren’t so damned adorable, I’d smack your little butt. We left dinner, Abs, so we’re both starving.”
They all laughed.
“I’m sorry, Mom, Phil. You want a piece of toast or something?”
“No, we do not. We want to know why we’re here!” Everyone could hear the impatience in her voice.
“You want me to tell her?” Chris asked. “You’ve stretched this out too long, sweet woman.”
“Tell me what!” Toots shouted, not caring.
“I’m pregnant,” Abby confessed, with a giggle. Joy bubbled up in her laughter, and her eyes sparkled like the finest gold.
Overwhelmed and shocked to the core didn’t come close to describing the emotions flowing through Toots. “Say that again” was all she could come up with.
Chris took this as his clue to speak up. “Tootsie, you’re going to be a grandmother. A nanny. A mimi. A mamaw. You pick.”
Suddenly Toots’s eyes were filled with happy tears. She reached across the table, knocked her glass over, and took her daughter’s hand. No. She practically jumped over the table. “Come he
re.” Abby allowed her mother to hoist her out of the chair. Toots squeezed her so hard, but then stopped. “Oh, my God, I don’t want to hurt the baby. Phil, did you hear this? I am going to be a grandmother. Oh, shit! I can’t believe this. When did you find out?”
“Right before we called you,” Chris answered.
Bewildered, Toots shook her head. “Details, please.” She hugged Abby again; then she grabbed a wad of paper towels, tossing them on the lake of spilled tea.
“I’ve been so sick. Remember the other night when I had that coffee at your house? I thought I’d been poisoned. I’ve been telling myself I had a bug, the flu. Then, tonight, I made fish for dinner. I got so sick afterward—I just knew I was terminally ill.” Abby glanced at Chris. “I know I didn’t tell you, but it doesn’t matter now, because we know that I’m not. Chris mentioned something about going to the drugstore to buy me ‘girlie things.’ I’ve always been a bit irregular, so I always put a red check mark in my date book so I can remember when I had my period. I flipped through my date book, and I haven’t made a red check mark in almost four months. Then everything made sense. The throwing up, the tiredness, the weird things I’ve been smelling that Chris”—Abby turned to her husband, her blue eyes raised—“thought I was imagining. He said I was losing it. Chris and I went to CVS, bought a test kit, and it said positive!”
“I think this is worth celebrating. I’ll be right back,” Phil said.
“Mom?” Abby asked as soon as Phil was out of earshot. “Are you two . . . you okay?”
“Of course, we are. You don’t need to worry about us. You have much more important issues to deal with. Oh, Abby, I think this is the most exciting news I’ve heard in my entire life!” Toots gushed.
Chris chimed in, “I second that.”
Phil returned to the kitchen with the bottle of Syrah, Raven No. 10. Holding it up in the air, he said, “This was too good to leave behind.” He gave the bottle to Chris.
“I’ll get the glasses. Three of them.” He nodded toward Abby. “You will have to celebrate with the tea.”
She laughed. “It’s fine with me. I rarely drink alcohol, as it is. Nothing I’ll be missing here.”
Phil poured the Syrah, Raven No. 10 into three glasses. Chris filled another wineglass with tea for Abby.
Phil raised his glass in the air. “I would like to propose a toast.”
Toots, Chris, and Abby lifted their glasses high in the air.
“To love, happiness, and the beginning of new life!”
They all clinked their glasses—the sound music to their ears.
Chapter 24
“Why are we stopping here? This place has been abandoned for as long as I can remember,” Sophie said when Goebel shut off the ignition.
“I know it has.” He turned sideways in his seat so that he was facing Sophie. “While you were in the nursery sending that little guy to the other side, I received a text message from Alice Radcliffe. Before you ask who she is, she’s Toots’s real-estate agent. Toots put me in touch with her about a week ago, and I put in a bid on this place a few days ago. That text message I received told me the owner accepted my bid. So”—he let out a nervous chuckle—“we’re stopping here because the key is under the first step on one of the little porches in the back. I thought you might want to see the inside of our new home.”
Flabbergasted didn’t even begin to cover what Sophie was feeling at that moment. “But . . . I . . . you and me? Here?” Rarely was she speechless, but she really didn’t know what to say.
Goebel took her hand. “This”—he touched the two-carat diamond he’d given her when he suggested they team up as a permanent couple—“I was serious when I gave this to you.”
“I know that.”
“We both know I’ve never formally proposed to you.”
With a bravado she didn’t feel, she said, “Yeah, so what?”
“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?” Goebel teased.
Sophie wasn’t sure what to make of anything just then. This was so out of the blue, so unexpected, she truly needed a few minutes to absorb the enormity of Goebel’s words. Taking a deep breath, she said, “This is not what I was expecting. I thought maybe you’d booked a honeymoon suite at one of those fancy bed-and-breakfasts in Charleston.”
Goebel appeared crestfallen.
“Wait, wait.... I meant . . . this is a good thing, Goebel. Don’t get me wrong. I am just . . . surprised, that’s all.” That was putting it mildly. Damn, I’ve taken the thunder out of his surprise. “Okay, let’s start over.”
Goebel nodded, cranked the engine, and backed down the driveway. When he reached the main road, he turned back toward town. Sophie didn’t utter a word. She wasn’t sure if Goebel was pissed or hurt. He was probably a combination of both. Shit! For once, she needed to learn to keep her big-ass mouth shut. She owed him an apology, but didn’t want to speak now. Highly unusual for her. She decided to remain quiet and allow Goebel to take back the control she’d whisked away with a few words.
He turned the car into the Perkins parking lot. Okay, maybe he was taking this a bit too far, but she refused to comment. Goebel parked the SUV in the exact place they’d parked less than an hour ago. He actually shut off the engine, waited a couple seconds; then he started it up again. She couldn’t help but grin. The old coot, she knew what he was up to. No way in hell was she going to open her mouth this time around. She was along for the ride.
For the second time, Goebel pulled into the driveway at the purple house, shut off the ignition, then turned to face her. “Sophie Manchester, I am insanely in love with your smart little ass. You’ve turned this old man from a die-hard bachelor to a—a moonstruck piece of mush. I want to marry you, want to wake up every day knowing you’re somewhere close by. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, having as many adventures as we’ve shared already. I want to live in this house with you. I want you to work beside me while I make this house our home. I want to see the look of love that I see in your eyes right now for the rest of my life. Now, Sophie Manchester, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears streamed down her face—good tears—the kind that sent shivers along her arms, her legs, and the middle of her back. She let them fall, not caring about it one bit. Her nose stopped up, her vision blurred from the tears, but never in her seventy years had she ever felt so wanted, so desired by a man.
“Goebel Blevins, it would be my honor to be your wife.” Enough said.
Before she knew what was happening, Goebel jumped out of the SUV, ran around to her side, opened her door, and lifted her out of the car. She wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head against his chest. No words were needed, as they both knew where they stood.
He carried her around to the back of the house, which was huge, removed a penlight from his pocket and directed its beam across the back of the house, all the while still carrying her in his arms. When he spied the aforementioned porch, he stooped down to the ground, still holding her in his arms. Using one hand, he fumbled around for the key. When he located it, he said, “Eureka!” Repositioning Sophie, he marched to the front of the house and walked up the small stairs leading to the front door. He inserted the key with one hand, jiggled it a few times, then pushed the door open. He carried her inside, shone the light’s beam around the main room, and then set her down.
“I’ve always wanted to carry you over the threshold. Now I can take that off my bucket list,” Goebel said, grinning, and just a bit out of breath.
“I’ve never been carried over a threshold, just so you know.” She needed Goebel to know this was a first for her, too, even though she’d been married before. That schmuck Walter had been too drunk on their wedding day to do anything more than grab the last bottle of free champagne, then pass out as soon as they were alone in their cheap hotel room.
“Good, because I don’t think I can do this again,” he teased.
“Are you saying I’m too fat? Too old?”
“Not hardly. I’m just out of shape.”
“Bullshit. You’re in excellent shape. Remember when we first met? You were a bit on the heavy side then, but now . . . please. You’re in better shape than some men half your age. I see what you eat, and I know you walk on that treadmill in your apartment.”
“Thanks, Soph. I want to stay healthy as long as I’m able. Meaning I’ll get to spend more time with you. Maybe you’ll think about tossing those smokes?”
Yes, she should, but not now. “I will, someday. Right now, I just want to enjoy this time alone with you in our . . . new place.” She wanted to say the word dump, but refrained. The place was old, yes; but from what little she could see, it looked as though much of the original lighting and woodwork were there, and in halfway-decent shape.
“Promise me you’ll think about it. Now let’s scope this place out. I stopped by, and let me tell you, the place needs some work, but, Sophie, it’s a gem. I can’t believe this hasn’t sold before now. Most of the work needed is outside—the grounds are terribly in need of a good gardener’s touch—and, of course, the outside color would have to be changed immediately.”
Sophie got caught up in the excitement, too. Toots and Abby were excellent decorators. She knew they would pitch in when the time came. “Let me look around.”
Goebel directed the penlight through the downstairs rooms. “I can’t believe what a deal, Soph. I’d tell you, but this is your gift, and you’re not supposed to tell how much you paid. It’s rude. Suffice it to say, when all is said and done, this place will be worth ten times more than the selling price.”
“It does seem to be in decent condition. Exactly how old is this place?”
“Late 1800s according to Alice.”
Sophie stopped when they entered what once might’ve been the drawing room. The built-in bookshelves looked to be in decent shape, as far as she could see. She’d come over tomorrow during the day, when she could really get a good glimpse at her—their—new home.
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