by Linda Apple
“Did you invite them to the wedding? Levi and I would love to have them.”
“Yes, but they both had plans. But they will be at the reception. David even offered to fix our hair again. He’s such a great guy.”
“I just hope he and Tryna aren’t worn out from fixing me by the time they get to you girls.” Momma gave her slyest grin.
“Don’t worry, Miss Cladie,” said Lexi. “David is an artist. I’ll bet a solid quarter you won’t darken the door of the Beauty Box ever again.”
“Okay girls, the final thing on my list, the honeymoon suite. And while it won’t be as nice as it was for Stan and me since Scott won’t be here to fix it up, I promise I’ll do my best to make it romantic.”
“Are we dressing in the pool house again?” I sure hoped not. It had gone from a nice sixty degrees to low forties in three weeks.
“No, I think we should get ready in one of the suites upstairs in the mansion. I’ll put the guys in the pool house seeing how they are supposed to be tough and all.” Molly glanced around the room. “Anything else?”
“It all sounds so unbelievably amazing.” Jema rose and walked to me. Taking my hands in hers she said, “And if we can do all of this in just a couple weeks, think of what we will all do for you.”
With her beautiful words in my ears, we all got ready to leave. Full of hope and good cheer, I texted Ty.
—Think Skye’d want 2 join me for lunch 2day?—
He texted back.
—She said sure. Where 2 meet?—
—Magnolia Tea Room. On my way.—
I dropped Mom off at the house and headed to the tearoom. On the way, I tried to think of things to talk about. What if she just stared at me with her intense eyes? I’d probably turn into a blathering fool.
Maybe lunch wasn’t such a good idea.
****
During my youth, dreams of my wedding did not include my fiancé’s twenty-something daughter. While waiting in an inconspicuous table in the tearoom my nerves shimmied in my stomach. I felt ridiculous. After all, I’m a grown woman in love with a grown man. We didn’t need anyone’s permission. Right? I nodded my head to no one. Right.
The bells on the door jingled. Skye stepped in and looked around. She had a relaxed expression, thank the Lord. I waved and caught her attention just as my favorite waitress, Birdie, approached her. If Gone With the Wind were remade and they needed an actress to play Aunt Pity Pat, Birdie would be their gal. Her ample figure, wild blonde hair, and rosy cheeks, fit the character perfectly. Skye waved back, smiled at Birdie, pointed at me and then strolled to the table.
“Hi.” She shrugged off her coat before sliding into the booth.
“Hi. Glad you could make it.”
Birdie ambled over and gave us the tearoom’s fan-shaped menus. “Lordy, it’s as cold as an ex-husband’s heart out there. How ’bout some tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate for me.” Skye glanced at me.
“I’ll have English Breakfast with cream.”
“All righty y’all. While I’m getting your drinks, take a gander at the menu. All the soups are to die for, and the Parker house rolls just went into the oven.”
When she walked away, Skye and I watched each other across the table with fixed smiles. Even with all my rehearsing on the way, I didn’t know where to begin. I know where I wished to begin. I wanted to tell her Emma Jackson was an outright liar. My expression must have shown it because Skye angled her head and quizzed me with her eyes. Thank goodness Birdie returned.
“Here y’all are.” She set our drinks in front of us. “Now, what can I bring you to eat?”
“I’ll have the loaded potato soup in the bread bowl.” Skye handed Birdie the menu.
Youth and carbs, I remember those days, now long gone, darn it. “I’ll have the roasted butternut soup.”
Birdie didn’t look up while scribbling our orders on a pad. “You want yours in a bread bowl, sugar?”
Yes. “No, but I’d like a roll, please.”
“All righty then. I’ll be back in two shakes.” She wagged her finger. “Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”
When Birdie was out of sight, I decided it was time to just say what was on my mind. “Skye, I asked you to lunch because I know your grandmother has told you things about me, and I’m sure you have questions. I will be happy to answer them as best I can.”
There, I said it. The only thing I could do now was to wait for the barrage of accusations.
Skye lowered her gaze and stared at her hot chocolate, then said in a low voice, “Dad warned me to not deluge you with questions, and I’ve really tried to hold my tongue, but…are you really good friends with Nathan Wolfe?”
Nathan Wolfe? That’s the reason she’s been so silent. She wanted to know about Nate?
“Why, yes. I am.”
She met my gaze. “Wow.”
Wow?
“I watch him on every news show I can find; I even search him on YouTube. I study him because I want to be like him someday.”
I relaxed. “I will tell him when he gets here. He’ll be flattered.”
“When he…? Wait. When he gets here?” She put her hand to her chest. “As in…he’s coming here?”
“Yep. Next week.”
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my gosh. Really? Oh my gosh—oh my gosh”
“I’ll introduce you to him at Jema’s wedding.”
Fluttering her hands, she squealed. “I can’t believe this.”
As happy as I was for this meeting to turn out so positive, there were things we needed to talk about, and I needed to walk this conversation back to my original reason for lunch.
“We can talk about Nate—”
“—Nate? You call him Nate?”
I nodded. “Yes, sometimes. But, as I was saying, let’s talk about him later. Right now, I’m wondering if you have questions about your father and me?”
She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of hot chocolate. “Not really. Dad has dated a lot over the years. Nothing serious. So I felt pretty confident when he proposed that you were the one. I mean, he ought to know. I’m cool with it.”
“What about the things your grandmother told you about me?”
“As if.” She waved her hand and shook her head. “I never pay attention to her when she talks like that. I never knew Dad’s brother, but I know I wouldn’t have liked him.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Grandmother acts as if Dad doesn’t exist. I don’t know what I’d do if my mother always compared me to my brother.”
Suddenly, I felt the need to defend Marc. “Marc wasn’t a bad guy. Just sorta immature. But he was also exceptionally smart. Emma had high hopes for him, and I’m sure if he’d lived, she would have been just as proud of your dad. But after Marc’s death, I guess she kinda got lost.”
“You think?” She rolled her eyes. “Lost and crazy.”
A smile demanded to be set free on my face, but I bit my lips. Birdie brought our lunches and suddenly I was famished. “Birdie, would you bring me a bacon grilled cheese, too?”
“Sure thing. I’ll have it to you in a jiffy.” She hurried back to the kitchen calling, “Hey Tom, one BGC.”
I tore my roll and dipped it in the thick, orange, soup. “So, you don’t have anything to say about me being nearly twelve years older than your dad or that I’ve only been back five months before he proposed and I accepted?”
She held her spoon to her mouth and blew. “Nope. I have a friend whose parents knew each other a week before they eloped. They’ve been together for over forty years.”
“And the age thing?”
“No biggie.” She smiled. “We all live till we die, right? Take Marc for example. I say we love and be loved when we can.”
Wow. Such wisdom from one so young. “And if I was not friends with the Nathan Wolfe, would your answers be the same?”
She put her finger to her cheek and looked up. “Umm, let me
think on that a bit.” After a second, she looked me straight in the eyes. “Absolutely.”
“One more question and I’ll stop.”
“Good. My soup is getting cold.”
“Wanna split an orange roll?”
“Nope.” A mischievous grin commandeered her face. “I want one all to myself.”
When Skye said that, I knew we were going to be good friends.
****
Martini Monday. It seemed like years instead of months since we first instituted this get together. It was our way to combat the dreaded first working day of the week by giving us something to look forward to. All evening, we’d drink martinis, eat fattening food, and just plain laugh till our sides ached, the best medicine ever. This evening would be the last one for a long time.
So much had changed. We began as four friends with no hope of romance, but cupid showered his arrows and just like that we all found love. Well, all except for Lexi. I think she just found lust. Soon Jema would be gone, leaving our number at three. Sorta bittersweet.
Momma stuck her head in my room. “Hon, your martini munchies are all packed up in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Mom. Why don’t you come?”
“I’m tuckered out, baby. I’m going to my chair to watch Wheel, and then go to bed.”
“Good. You worked yourself to exhaustion this Christmas.”
“I’ll allow, I do love the holidays. But this year it wore me out. I’m gettin’ old, baby.”
She did look tired—more than tired. Her sparkle seemed snuffed out. I tucked that worry back in my mind to dwell on the next day. “Oh poo, mom. Age is just a number. Isn’t that what you always say? Now let’s get you settled before I leave.”
I followed her downstairs to her sitting room, or what she called her front room, and helped her settle in her chair. After I tucked her Christmas throw around her, and turned on Wheel of Fortune I asked, “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“I’d love a big glass of sweet tea. I just can’t seem to quench my thirst lately.”
“Okay, be back in a sec.” While I poured her tea, I wondered if she needed to get checked out by Doctor Derrick. Of course, if I suggested it to her she’d probably brush me off. But a little niggle in the back of my mind warned me she needed to see a doctor. After Jema’s wedding, I decided to put my foot down and do what it took to get her there. No if’s, ands, or buts.
I returned to the front room and set the tea on the table beside her chair. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, hon.” She flipped her hand in the air. “Now run along. I’ll be fine.” Right then Pat Sajak’s smiling face appeared on the screen. From that moment on, no one else was in the room but her, Pat, and Vanna. I kissed the top of her head and left to load the little red wagon I’d had as a girl. That wagon used to carry my puppies, kittens, and dolls for miles during my youth. Now that I’m grown, it follows me to my friends’ homes laden with adult beverages and snacks.
I bundled up and hurried to Lexi’s. The savory aroma of her spicy and deliciously greasy sausage balls reached me before I set foot on her porch. She made them every Martini Monday. No doubt she had also concocted one of her exquisite chocolate martini recipes. She had several, all of them amazing and chocked full of calories. Which was a problem because none of us could drink just one.
I gathered my vodka, Momma’s cheese balls, corn dip, Fritos scoopers, and pita chips from the wagon, climbed the steps and walked inside. “Knock, knock.”
“Come on in.” Lexi grabbed the vodka and chips from my arms. “Jema’s here and we are one martini ahead of you.”
“Am I late?” I set the cheese balls on the table and arranged pita chips around them.
“No,” said Jema. “We’re just ready to get this party started.” She poured my Gray Goose over ice and started shaking it. “MK should be here any minute. She’s been bad about being on time since she married. I wonder why?” With a wink, she thrust a perfect martini in my hand—cold and dry.
“The same reason you will be in four days.” I held my glass up. “Cheers.”
She tapped her glass against mine. “And you will have the same reason in five months.”
“Oh stop it, you two.” Lexi stuck out her tongue. “Y’all make me want to throw up, not to mention incredibly jealous.”
Molly Kate strolled into the room holding a platter of what I hoped were chocolate chunk cookies. “Hey y’all. Sorry I’m late.”
“Late and one martini behind.” Lexi took the platter from her and peeked. “You read my mind, Mrs. Montgomery.” She took the foil off the pile of indescribable yumminess.
“For your information, Stan and I had one before I left.”
“Which,” Lexi lifted a cookie to her mouth, “explains why you are late.”
“Oh stop.” A flush rose up Molly’s neck. “So what’s tonight’s entertainment besides me?”
“Well, it just so happens Jema is our entertainment.” Lexi pointed to a basket filled with small wrapped packages.
“Me?” Jema put her hand to her chest. We all stood around her like grinning emojis. She glanced around. “What?”
“This,” said Lexi, “is a honeymoon basket.” The air was abuzz with hilarious energy bursting to be free. “And you my dear, are our entertainment.”
“However,” I held up my glass, “not until we’ve had another one of these.”
We filled our plates and refreshed our drinks, then formed a semi-circle around Jema in evil anticipation. We had shopped at an adult entertainment outside of town. With each gift her blush evolved from rosé to merlot. You’ve heard of Fifty Shades of Gray? Well, our Jema turned at least fifty shades of red. Her comments had us rolling. “You do what with this?”…“This goes where?”…“Y’all actually expect me to fit in that?”…“Levi puts this on his…?”…“You gotta be kidding me.”
By the time she opened the last gift, we were all weak from laughter. Wads of gift paper were strewn about the room.
Lexi stood and stretched. “Girl, if you don’t have a fine time on your honeymoon, it won’t be for lack of supplies.”
“All I can say is,” Jema held up a pair of edible panties, “y’all are Levi’s new best friends.”
“I gotta get me a pair of those.” Molly squinted at the package. “How many calories are in those things?”
“Oh, Lord help me.” Lexi walked to the bar. “Okay everyone, prepare to be amazed. I have a new chocolate martini recipe. Perfect for MK’s chocolate chip cookies.” She mixed several things together, shook them with ice, then poured the contents into her fanciest glasses. Holding it up, she announced, “Chocolate Espresso Martinis.”
We helped ourselves to martinis and cookies. As usual, Molly Kate’s baking never disappointed. Crisp and buttery cookies held treasures of creamy semi-sweet chocolate chunks. The strong espresso and crème de cacao in the martinis made the perfect complement. Out of body experience? You betcha.
“Oh my.” Jema grabbed Lexi’s arm. “I want these waiting in my room honeymoon night.”
“Consider it done.” Lexi was clearly pleased.
Later in the evening, yawning replaced laughter. “Well, girls, we’d better call it a night.” Jema bent over and started picking up paper off the floor.
“Don’t you pick up another thing.” Lexi grabbed the paper from Jema’s hands. “I’ll do this.”
Jema started to protest, but then stopped. Instead, she looked deep into Lex’s eyes, then Molly’s, then mine. We all stared at each other, unmoving, as if we were stuck in some kind of emotional inertia. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. We wove our arms around each other and held on tight.
Jema sighed and murmured, “Lord, I love you girls.”
After a long hug, we began gathering our things to leave. I stayed behind to help Lexi straighten up. Neither of us said what I’m sure we both were thinking. Tonight a page had been turned in our lives and in our friendship. But while it would never be the
same, I hoped—no—I knew it would grow into something better.
****
The next morning, memories of the previous evening ran pleasantly through my mind as I finished my third cup of coffee. While debating on if I should have a fourth, the phone rang. I hoped it wasn’t Ty wanting to go to breakfast because I looked horrible. I checked the screen. Good. It was only Nate. I chuckled to myself at the thought of Skye’s reaction if she ever heard me say ‘it’s only Nate.’
“Hi handsome.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
“Where are you?” I checked the clock. Nine-thirty.
“Just arrived in Memphis. I’m renting a car and should there in about three hours.”
“Get a GPS this time.”
“Don’t worry. I learned my lesson. And I won’t be stopping for grits in Tupelo either. So I hope Miss Cladie has something to eat.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” I swept the kitchen with a glance. Chicken stewed in the pot for chicken and dumplings. Purple hull peas simmered on the stove, a sausage and squash casserole baked in the oven and her English pea salad was marrying with the onions, mayo and spices in the fridge. A four-layer chocolate cake sat next to a caramel apple pie. All there was left to do was to make fried corn bread. “I think we will be able to scrounge something up.”
“Great. Hey, my GPS is bugging me to talk to you. Just a sec.”
“It’s bugging you to do what?”
“Giiiirrrlll, I’ve missed you. How long has it been? Two weeks?”
“Ohmigosh! Scott?”
“Yep, me and Nathan seem to have a bro’mance thing going on. Every time he travels to Moonlight, he invites me.”
In the background, I heard Nate say, “Sorry dude, but you’re not my kind.”
“Aww, Nate, give me a chance.” Scott turned his attention back to me, finally. “Anyway, Avalee, you tell that sweet mother of yours we are going to talk serious about our book, Southern Soiree.”
Mom put her hand on my arm. “Is that Scott? Our Scott? What’s he want?”
“He’s with Nate and he wants to talk about that book he suggested y’all write.”
“He was serious?”
Scott must have heard her. “You tell her, ‘yes I was serious.’ I’ve already run it by my publisher, and she loves the idea.”