Lacey’s head jerked up. Her mouth was full of pie. “Izza my ma?”
No way, Sarah couldn’t be back that soon. Besides, she’d be coming in from the garage. “I’ll check.” Christina bounced up.
On her way through the family room she vaguely noticed Lady Penelope sleeping in her doggie bed. Apparently Christina’s punishment was over.
She rounded the corner. Jess stood in the front hallway, purse over her shoulder. Carrying three paper bags, which were strangely moving. Anger tightened her lips. In fact every muscle in her body looked hard as granite.
Wonderful.
She held up the bags almost in defiance. “Lobsters.”
“Oh.”
“And Tamel is not comin’ to dinner, if you’d like to know.”
Oh. Christina nodded awkwardly.
Jess eyed her. “So what’s wrong with you?”
“I … nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” She stomped past Christina, lugging the bags. “Everybody’s crazy today.”
Christina trotted behind, heart tripping. As they entered the family room, Christina glanced at the girls. They sat at the table, no plates, no pie, gazes fixed on their aunt. Guilt all over their faces.
Jess halted. “What’s goin’ on with you two?”
Lacey raised innocent eyebrows. “Nothin’.”
“Why’re you just sittin’ there?”
Alex shrugged.
Jess turned to face Christina. “What’s goin’ on? Where’s their mamas?”
Christina could hardly find her voice. “Sarah and Mrs. Dearing are at the store. And Maddy’s in bed with a bad headache. I was tryin’ to keep the girls quiet …”
“Apparently you succeeded. I’ve never seen ’em just sit at a table before. What’d you do, feed ’em Prozac?”
Alex jerked. Her hands flew beneath the table, as if grabbing for something. A clatter sounded on the kitchen tile floor. Alex’s face registered shock, then dissolved in tears.
“Oh!” She let out a wail.
Jess tipped back her head, as if accusing the heavens for her rotten day. “Alex, what?”
Christina ran to Alex’s side and pulled back her chair. Her half eaten slice of pie and ice cream glopped on the floor, the plate shattered. A fork lay underneath the mess.
“Look at my clothes!” Alex’s voice rose as she pointed. Half of the food smeared across her bright yellow shorts and the bottom of her blue shirt. She cried louder.
“Shh!” Panic gripped Christina. She placed her palms on Alex’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”
“I’m all diirrrr-teee!”
“Please be quiet.”
“Waaaahh!”
“Good grief, Alex, can it!” Jess marched into the kitchen and dropped her bags in the sink.
Alex shook off Christina’s hands and cried louder.
Surely Maddy could hear. Christina cast a pleading look to Jess. “I promised Maddy we wouldn’t wake her up.”
Jess strode over to Alex and pulled her off the chair. “You want me to make you sit in the garage all by yourself? ’Cause I’m in no mood to put up with you.”
Alex shook her head.
“Then shut up.”
The little girl gulped and clamped her mouth closed, breathing hard.
“That’s better.” Jess straightened and focused on Lacey. “You eatin’ pie too?”
Lacey hesitated, then nodded.
“Well, get it off your lap before you lose it.”
The near empty plate appeared on the table, along with a fork.
Jess thrust a hand on her hip. “What’re you doin’ eatin’ pie in the mornin’?”
Alex swiped at her face and sniffed. Any minute she’d start wailing again. She focused on her lap and pointed to Christina.
Oh, God, help.
Jess swung to Christina. “This what you do in Texas?”
“I just … I needed to keep them quiet, and they were fighting …”
Jess raised a mocking hand—Of course, what else could you do? “Whatever. Clean ’em up, would you? I gotta go stick these lobsters in the garage sink.” She towered over Alex. “And don’t you dare start cryin’ again. You wake up your mom with a headache, she’s liable to whack you one.”
Christina’s eyes widened. Maddy wouldn’t do that. Would she?
Jess yanked up the bags and barged down the hall toward the garage.
Christina’s legs felt shaky. “Okay, Alex.” She tried to keep her voice calm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Alex shot her an accusing stare. “I have to put on different clothes.”
“That’s fine—”
“How’m I gonna do that without wakin’ up my mama?”
Oh. Right. Her stuff was in Maddy’s room.
“Lacey, can she borrow some of your clothes for a while?”
“She’s smaller ‘n’ me.”
“I don’t want her shorts, I want mine.” Alex’s pout roared back.
Christina heaved a sigh. Why hadn’t she gone to the store? “Okay, tell you what. I’ll wash and dry your shorts and top right now. You should be able to put them back on soon.”
But not before Sarah and Mrs. Dearing came back from the store. Not good. This was going to get worse.
“What’m I supposed to do while you’re washin’ ’em?”
“Do you have anything in another room?”
“How ’bout you wear my nightgown?” Lacey sounded like the older, wiser cousin. “You like it.”
Alex frowned at the table. “Okay.”
Relief surged through Christina. She hugged Lacey. “Thanks so much, big girl.”
Lacey looked proud of herself. “I’ll go get it.” She scampered on mice feet toward the east wing.
Christina began to clean up the mess on the floor. She’d have to throw the broken dish away. Mrs. Dearing would surely notice a plate missing.
Jess appeared, carrying empty paper bags. She still looked sour. “Don’t worry about the plate.” She waved a hand. “Happens every reunion. I’m goin’ up to my room.”
Lacey came back, toting a bright pink nightgown. Alex stripped off her offending clothes and slid into it.
“Okay.” Christina wiped the last of the food off the tile. “Can you girls go back to coloring now and not fight? Don’t use the fairy princess page. Both of you do something else.”
“Oh, she can have it.” Lacey’s voice bulged with tolerance. She headed down the hall, still in her helpful role of older cousin. Alex followed.
“Where’s the washer and dryer?” Christina called after them. She had to do this in a hurry.
Lacey pointed toward the garage. “Down there.”
Christina scurried down the hallway. The garage sat empty, both cars gone. Neatly packed boxes lined built-in shelves on the far side. Toward the back was a door. Christina hurried through it and found a good sized laundry room. Dryer, washer, and a huge deep sink beyond that at the far end. Ironing board and iron. A long line of cabinets with plenty counter space for folding.
Fast as she could, she dumped the clothes in the washer, followed by soap from a nearby box of detergent. Flipped the machine to its smallest load, warm water, and turned it on. Water swished into the machine.
She staggered back through the garage. In the kitchen she gulped a glass of water.
Now … breathe.
She leaned against the counter, dreading the moment when the two women came home. And Maddy got up. They’d all be so mad at her. Jess was already ticked. Not to mention Penny.
She was totally failing with everybody.
Shoulders drooping, Christina walked into the family room and slumped onto the couch. Would this reunion ever be over? She still had today and all of tomorrow.
She turned her head to look at Penny, still in her bed. The Yorkie’s eyes locked on hers, then closed dismissively—Don’t even think about coming over here.
Fine. Be that way.
Christina lay her head back aga
inst the couch cushion and started to cry.
CHAPTER 14
Man, it was hotter ‘n’ blazes on the golf course. They’d teed off at nine twenty-five and were only on the third hole. Ben was already sweating like a pig. He wore a cap low over his eyes to block out the sun’s glare. Jake, Don, and Dad wore hats, too. They all had water bottles. Ben’s was half empty.
It was Ben’s turn to play—last of the foursome. The other three men weren’t doing so great. At least at this short hole they’d all gotten on the green. Barely. For all his bragging about his golf game, Don was in third place, only ahead of Jake. That’s what happened in the presence of a real golfer—everybody else fell apart.
The fairway before Ben was an easy one. A par three—a mere one hundred fifty yards. He pulled the nine iron out of his bag.
“Watch this and weep.” Ben wagged his head.
Don and Jake rolled their eyes.
Ben shifted his feet into place and worked a perfect grip on the club. Keep the head down, stroke through the ball. He swung forward and connected with a hard, precise thwack. The little white circle sailed into blue sky. Ben held the brim of his hat, following its flight. It arched up with precision, then started to fall. “Hah, look at that!”
The ball landed five feet from the hole and rolled forward a little.
Ben raised his fist in the air. “What’d I tell ya!”
“Good one, Ben.” Dad gazed at the green with admiration. “A real beauty.”
“Not that far from a hole-in-one. ’Course on such a short hole, it wouldn’t mean much.” Jake laughed and tried to swagger, which didn’t work too well. His skinny bowed legs stuck out from his blue shorts like a crane’s. Jake pushed his wire-rim glasses back up his nose. He was sweating so much the things wanted to fall off.
“Don’t matter how close it was.” Don pointed at Ben. “You either make a hole-in-one—or you don’t.”
Ben raised his chin. “If anybody here’s headed for one of those, it’s me.”
“I bet you get there, Son.” His dad slapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder.
They climbed into their carts, Ben with his dad, Don and Jake in the second, and took off toward the green. Ben’s dad drove their cart. Syton Dearing always liked to be behind the wheel.
“How’s Christina this mornin’?” He slowed for a turn on the path.
“Seems okay.”
“Better after your talk last night?”
“I don’t know. I guess. She still doesn’t … she keeps a lot of things to herself. Now that I know she tends to hide negative stuff, I have to work to figure her out.”
“Well, she’s with your mama so she’s probably havin’ a good day.”
Yup. No easier person to be with than Ruth Dearing.
His dad threw him a glance. “And how are you?”
Ben took a deep breath. “Better. Sleep always helps. I think Christina and I can do this. I know we can.”
“I’m sure you can too.”
They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence. But there was so much Ben could say. Sometimes he wished he could open up his dad’s head and pour out all the wisdom. Especially now that Ben faced marriage, which seemed wonderful and exciting and scary all at once.
There was a time—when Ben was a teenager—he’d thought his parents didn’t know much at all. They’d grown up in a different generation, were old-fashioned in many ways. What did they know about being a teenager in today’s world? Not until Ben had gone to college had he slowly begun to realize how much his parents did know. That their old-fashioned values stood for something. That they were caring and smart, and he couldn’t have asked for better parents. He’d started opening up to them more after he graduated college, especially his dad. Then they could talk business, something Ben was learning about firsthand. During one of their talks his father had admitted how much he’d hoped Ben would follow in his footsteps and run the family’s Ford dealership some day. Yet he’d never pushed Ben, giving him the chance to choose what he wanted. Took a strong man to let his son follow his own path like that. Made Ben respect him all the more.
They reached the green and climbed out. Don had to go to the edge to hit his ball. He took forever getting into position, shifting his feet and wiggling his butt.
Ben put his hand on his hips. “Are you dancin’ or playin’ golf?”
“Why, you wanna cha-cha?” Don looked up, then back to the ball. “Drat. Now I lost my concentration.”
“Come on, Don, we’ll be here all day.” Jake raised both hands. “Party behind us is gonna get ticked.”
Don glanced up the course. “They’re way back there.”
“Not anymore, they’re not.”
“Would you be quiet? I can not focus with all this chatter.”
Ben tried not to laugh. That was the trouble with Don and golf. He was pretty good, but he worked at it too hard. Got all tense. Pulled up his head too soon a lot of times, which made him hit the top of the ball. Ben just let things flow. Plus, Don hated to lose. Now that Ben was here, he was the underdog. And he just couldn’t stand it.
“Okay.” Dad raised his hands, palms out. “Everybody be still and don’t breathe. Don’s about to take his shot.”
They fell silent, watching Don. He started his butt/foot shuffle again.
“Sometime next Sunday,” Dad added.
Jake choked out a laugh. Ben guffawed.
Don straightened with a huff. “What’s the matter with you people, can’t you let a guy hit the ball?”
“No one’s stoppin’ ya.” Dad’s eyes twinkled.
“I can’t play with all the noise.”
“Maybe you just can’t play,” Ben put in.
Jake looked over his shoulder. “Uh-oh. Party’s at the second hole. Better hurry, Don.”
“Don’t rush me.” Don made a frustrated sound in his throat and repositioned his club. Started his shuffle all over again. Ben and his dad exchanged a grin. Ben made a cutting gesture across his throat with one finger. Finally Don’s putter connected with the ball. It bounced and rolled straight toward the hole. Whoa.
The ball reached the hole and dropped in.
“Ahhhh!” Don jumped off the ground, putter still in his hand. “See there!” He’d moved to second place.
“Good one, Don.” Dad sounded surprised.
“A lucky shot.” Ben waved his hand. In his head, he calculated. After he made his next shot—which he would—he’d be only one ahead of Don.
“Call it what you want, it’s a par two on a par three hole.” Don slid the club into his bag with finesse.
“No more than I’m gonna get,” Ben said.
“It’s never over till the fat lady sings.”
“Who you callin’ fat?” Dad felt around his waist.
“Who you callin’ a lady?” Jake pretended to be indignant.
Ben’s dad and Jake each ended up with one over par. Ben easily knocked his ball in the hole. He retrieved it and pointed at Don. “Still one ahead of you.”
“I’ll catch up.”
“In your next life.”
Jake laughed as he headed for his cart. “What’s better than a pleasant golf game with family?”
“Nothin’.” Dad smiled. “Except winnin’. Not that I know how that feels.”
Ben climbed back into the golf cart. He was on a roll. Only three holes, but he could feel it. King of the world today, that was for sure.
Dad was right, Christina was probably having as good a time as he was. She’d be getting to know the women in the family better. Starting to fit in.
They still needed to get a wedding date on the calendar. Should do that tonight at supper.
Wow. Ben smiled to himself. By the time he hit the pillow tonight, he’d know the day he would become Christina’s husband. Even in the blazing sun, Ben got goose bumps just thinking about it.
CHAPTER 15
Jess paced her bedroom, going from furious to teary-eyed and back again. Sometimes she was bot
h at once. She swiped away the tears fast as they came.
Men. They were nothing but trouble.
She wished she could lie down and rest. Fall asleep and block out the world. Fat chance. She felt wound up enough to punch a hole in the wall. Only one thing could salvage this rotten day—showing up her sisters by making a bang-up feast of those lobsters.
A feast Tamel would sorely miss. And she’d make sure he heard about it, too.
For half an hour or so she paced and mumbled. Told Tamel off a dozen times. Finally she flopped down on her bed, defeated and spent. Her stomach growled. Who knew why she should be hungry so soon. Except that dealing with Tamel had taken a ton of energy.
Jess pushed to her feet and headed out of the room. With most of the family gone, she’d have first dibs at last night’s leftovers.
Still frowning, she went down the stairs and headed back toward the family room. Christina sat on the couch, eyes closed. At the sound of Jess’s footsteps, her head snapped up. Her eyes looked red.
Jess stopped. “You okay?”
Christina nodded.
Yeah, right. But if the girl wouldn’t talk to her, there wasn’t much she could do.
Voices filtered from the far west wing hall. Sarah and Mama were back. Bad timing. Jess was in no mood to answer questions about her ride with Tamel.
As if that wasn’t enough, Maddy appeared from the east wing hall, eyes at half mast.
“Heard you had a headache,” Jess said. It was the polite thing to say.
“Yeah, it’s better.” Maddy rubbed her face. “I need some iced tea. Hi, Christina. Kids okay?”
Christina ducked her head. “Yes.”
Maddy gave her a long look, then shrugged and headed to the kitchen. Jess followed. Sarah and Mama came in at the same time, carrying bags.
“Any more out there?” Jess asked.
“Nope.” Mama plopped her bags down on the counter. “We got it all. Includin’ everything on your list for supper.”
“Great. I picked up some awesome lobsters.”
“So how was Tamel?” Sarah would have to bring him up.
“Don’t ask.”
“Oh, no. What hap—”
“Sarah. Can it.”
That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) Page 10