“That’s not going to happen.”
“I know it’s not going to happen. But try telling her that.”
“I plan to.”
“She might pretend to listen to you and to understand all that you have to say to her, but that’s going to be all talk. Things won’t change until you get here. She’s only going to make this week worse for me, which I won’t have. I’m out of here tomorrow.”
“Maybe I should just forget Brian’s funeral and get to Prairie Home now.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You will go to your friend’s funeral. That’s already been settled, and I won’t have it any other way. His wife and children need you to be there for them. And then there’s you—you also need to be there to pay your respects to your friend. I know how important that is to you, so not going is off the table as far as I’m concerned.”
“Lisa, I know you want this wedding to be perfect.”
“I do.”
“But if you leave my parents’ house, who is going to be there to make certain that you get the wedding you want? That all the details are attended to? Because if you do leave, it’s going to be my mother making those decisions, which I know you don’t want.”
“I’ll call Jennifer and Blackwell,” I said. “I’ll tell them everything that’s transpired since I got here. They are my best friends, and they’ll drop everything to step in to take care of this for us. When I find a motel, I’ll call them from my room, and I can guarantee you they will be on a plane as soon as possible. Because I know in my heart that I mean as much to them as they mean to me. They will have my back when it comes to this. They will intervene, and Blackwell alone will handle your mother far better than I can. I mean, come on—imagine Ethel up against her.”
“It’s not going to come to that,” he said. “Please let me talk to her before you make a decision. I know how to get her in line.”
“How?”
“I’ll make things very clear to her. She either treats you with respect, or I’ll tell her that we’ll ditch our plans to get married at home. Since our friends and family already have plans to travel to Prairie Home, we’ll need to get married at one of the churches in town so we don’t inconvenience them, which won’t be an issue. But she won’t be invited to the wedding, and I’ll tell her so. I’m her only son—her only child, for Christ’s sake—and that should be enough to wake her the fuck up when it comes to us.”
“Tank, I don’t want to be the person who drives a wedge between you and your mother. I know that you are close to her. I don’t want to bear that burden. I think it’s better that I just leave in the morning and bring in Jennifer and Blackwell.”
“How about this?” he said. “After I talk with her and if I feel that I’ve failed to turn this around, I’ll text you either way. And then you’ll know exactly what to do.”
That sounded reasonable enough, so I capitulated.
“All right,” I said. “Give it a go, I guess. But if your mother doesn’t do a complete one-eighty by morning when it comes to how she treats me, I will be out of here, Tank. If things don’t go well between you two, I’ll book a nearby church, and I’ll call in my friends to help me with the details. She needs to understand that our wedding isn’t dependent on having it at her home.”
“Lisa, I’m sorry about this.”
“Don’t be,” I sighed. “We both knew what we were getting into when I came here alone. What neither of us understood is where we’d end up in just one day. We’re in this together, Tank. And however this goes down, we will get married on Saturday.”
“Do me a favor?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“My mother gets up around five. Don’t leave your room until you’ve received a text from me. Since we both know she’ll be eavesdropping after I contact her, we’ll communicate via text, and I’ll give you my best opinion on what you should do when you walk down those stairs. I won’t bullshit you, Lisa—I never have, and I never will. If I think it’s best that you leave and call in the reinforcements, I’ll tell you to do so. But if I think I’ve gotten through to my mother and that you should stay, I’ll also tell you that.”
“You’ve got one hell of a fight ahead of you, Tank, especially if you think she’s going to change enough for me to want to stay here.”
“Let me have that fight,” he said.
“If you want.”
“I’ll get her to back down, Lisa. I have my ways.”
And I needed to trust him on that, so I just shrugged at him. “I love you, Tank.”
“I love you, Lisa. And I’m sorry about tonight.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “All I want is for each of us to get a good night’s sleep, and then we’ll see what tomorrow brings. I’ll be up and waiting for your text. And I’ll do as you suggest. And then?” I just cocked my head at him. “I guess we’ll take it from there.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
After a restless night of tossing and turning, I awoke the next morning at four-thirty feeling weirdly awake. Despite yesterday’s series of exhausting events, I should have felt too tired to even get out of bed—but I didn’t.
Instead, I was wired. My circuits were already on high alert.
I turned on my side, reached for my cell on the bedside table, and checked to see if Tank had texted me. He hadn’t, likely because he wanted to leave me alone until he had a definitive decision on how I should go forward today.
I longed for a cup of coffee, but I knew I couldn’t have one without going downstairs—which wasn’t about to happen. So, I decided to take a long, hot shower instead, one that lasted a good fifteen minutes as I let the water beat against my tense shoulders, back, and neck. When I was finished, I toweled off and slipped into my white robe, leaning against the vanity as I looked at myself in the mirror.
I thought I looked like shit.
There were bags beneath my eyes—but none of them were designer, that’s for sure. As light-skinned as I was, I thought I looked unusually pale this morning, even though I should have been pink from the heat of the shower alone. When I’d left Manhattan yesterday, I hadn’t looked anything like this. But now? After spending not even twenty-four hours with Ethel McCollister, I looked like one of my undead characters.
While I waited for Tank to text me, I went through the motions of pulling myself together with a whole host of potions that would help me look my best before I faced Ethel and Harold. And I did it all, leaning hard on all l’d learned from Bernie—full makeup, flat-ironed hair, and bold red lips that clearly stated that if you fucked with me today, I would rip out your heart and happily eat it.
With some fava beans.
Since I didn’t want it to look like I was trying too hard, I chose a pair of casual white capris and a navy tank to complete the look. On my feet I wore a pair of flats—in case I needed to get out of here fast.
And when I was done? I poured the milk Ethel had offered to me the night before into the sink, and returned the glass to its tray on the bureau next to the sorry-looking sandwich. Then I just watched the time pass by as I paced with my phone in my hand, knowing that since it was now ten past five, Tank was likely talking to his mother now.
What is he saying to her? I thought. How is she taking it?
At five-twenty, my cell phone dinged, alerting me to a text. I immediately switched on my phone and read what Tank had sent.
“After that talk, I think you’ll be fine today, tomorrow, and straight through to our wedding,” he wrote. “I was very clear with her—she’s not to judge you, she’s to be polite to you, and she’s not to fuck with you. I took a hard line with her, Lisa, and given the tone of my voice, I know she heard me. She knows that if she has just one more misstep with you, you will indeed go to a motel, we will have our wedding elsewhere in Prairie Home, and she won’t be invited. Text me back if you need to. I’m here for you. I love you—Tank.”
So, he went there, I thought as I typed out a text. Maybe this will finally end this ridiculou
sness between Ethel and me…
“Did she tell Harold what she saw?”
“She did. I also spoke with him. As usual, my father is unfazed.”
But is he really unfazed? I wondered. Or is he just putting on a good front for you, Tank, because he loves you?
I knew I’d likely never know the answer to that question, and that upset me, because I genuinely liked Harold—and I wanted him to like me.
“All right,” I texted. “I’ll see what happens, and we’ll take it from there.”
“If she steps out of line again, you walk.”
“I will,” I wrote. “I love you, Tank. Wish me well. I’ll admit that I’m nervous about facing her right now.”
“I understand that, but just be you, Lisa—the woman I fell in love with. If that isn’t enough for her, then the repercussions are on her. Text me as soon as you can, and let me know how things are going.”
“I will—talk later. XOXO.”
It took half an hour before I got up the nerve to pick up the tray and take it downstairs into the kitchen, where God only knew what faced me.
***
“Well, good morning,” Ethel said as I stepped into the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, and I saw in a quick glance that she was wearing her own armor—a full face of makeup, hair washed and blown out, a pretty white shirt that complimented her tanned complexion, and slim-fitting khakis.
“Good morning, Ethel,” I said.
“I had a feeling you also were an early riser,” she said as she started toward me. “Here on the farm, we have to be, as I imagine you had to be when you worked all those years at your parents’ motel. Harold’s already had his breakfast and is working in the barns with the rest of the boys. This morning, it’s just us.”
Was that a threat? I wasn’t sure. Her voice sounded pleasant enough, but since I didn’t trust her, I honestly didn’t know what I was walking into.
Give this a chance, I thought. You said you would.
“Here, let me take that for you,” she said as she took the tray from my hands. “And let me cook something for you. You must be famished—and don’t tell me that you’re not.”
I was beyond hungry, so I just nodded at her when she turned to me with expectant eyes.
“What would you like to eat?”
“Toast?” I said. “Maybe a cup of coffee?”
“You have to be hungrier than that. Do you like eggs? Because I make the best eggs.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes, with Harold. But it’s no problem, Lisa. Let me make breakfast for you, and then you and I can start talking about the wedding. Because we have a lot to do before the big day. When Tank arrives later in the week, you and he will meet Father Harvey together, so we don’t need to worry about that right now. But you and I have one major to-do list to get through, which includes deciding where the tents will be constructed, going to the florist to make sure the flowers you’ve chosen are just right, going to the caterer to make certain we’ve missed nothing when it comes to the rehearsal dinner…and then there’s the cake, which is so critical that I think you should meet the woman who is making it for you. And since there are so many other things to do, you need your energy. So, how about coffee, toast, and a couple of eggs made any way you like?”
Who are you? I thought, looking at her in wonder.
“That would be lovely,” I said.
“Then let me get the coffee started. How would you like your eggs? Poached? Fried? Scrambled? Baked?”
“Scrambled,” I said.
“Done. Now, have a seat at the kitchen table, and let me get to work. Everything will be finished in a matter of minutes.”
And it was. As she sat opposite me with a cup of coffee of her own, I had to admit the eggs were delicious.
“Thank you,” I said when I was finished. “That was amazing.”
“Later today, you and I will cook Tank’s favorite dish—his grandmother’s famous chicken pot pie. I can’t wait to show you how to make it.”
“I’m terrible when it comes to making pastry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it. Many people think making pastry is difficult, but it really isn’t. I have a foolproof way of making it. You’ll see. I use my food processor, and it comes out perfect every time. The secret is using cold cubes of butter and then letting the pastry rest for thirty minutes in the refrigerator before rolling it out. Other than that, the rest of the dish is just as easy. I’ll walk you through all of it, and the three of us will have it for dinner tonight.”
“Ethel,” I said. “We should probably discuss last—”
“Let’s not,” she interrupted. “I don’t think that would be good for either of us. Let’s consider this a new day and also a new page. Shall we turn that page together, Lisa? Because our book is going to have a great ending. It’s going to have the best ending. Tank told me so this morning.”
Why don’t I believe that?
She smiled sweetly at me, but her smile wasn’t reflected in her eyes. Instead, her eyes seemed weirdly intense to me, as if behaving kindly to me was somehow poisoning her.
“You’ll see,” she said. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise!”
***
“Before we start in, would you mind if I take a walk around the grounds? I’d like to stretch my legs and take advantage of the sun and the fresh air.”
“Of course not,” Ethel said. “Go and have a walk. Visit the gazebo. Say hello to the swans for me. Get yourself some fresh air and some exercise, and then we’ll dig in.”
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said as I stood from the table. “It really was wonderful, Ethel.”
“My pleasure. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Maybe an hour?”
“Perfect—just enough time for me to clean up and do some laundry. I’ll see you when you return.”
When I left the house, I had one mission in mind—finding Harold and seeing where I stood with him.
When I finally spotted him, he was in the third barn from the house and surrounded by three men. I heard a low moaning that sounded to me like an animal in pain. Since this barn was filled with cows, it occurred to me that one of them was under some sort of duress.
“Take it easy, girl,” I heard Harold say as I walked toward him and the other three men. They were standing in a pen looking down at something I couldn’t see. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Harold?” I said as I neared them.
He looked up at me when I said his name, and then he quickly waved me over. “Mable’s about to give birth. Come quick. You need to see this, Lisa, because it’s something you’ll never forget.”
When I reached the pen and saw the large brown cow lying on its side with one of its back legs extended as she pushed, he motioned to the men around him. “Scotty, Mark, and Luke—this is Lisa, my son’s fiancée.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” I said to them as I shook their hands. I looked at Mable, who seemed distraught, and then turned back to Harold. “Is she going to be OK?”
“It’s her first—we’ll see. But she’s a strong girl, so I’m betting on her.”
“Betting on her? Could something go wrong?”
“Anything can go wrong, but it generally goes right.”
Generally?
“Can I do anything?” I asked.
“Just offer her your support. Talk to her if you want. Soothe her with that pretty voice of yours, which is a whole lot more gentle than ours. I think she’d rather like that.”
Since I loved animals, that was easy for me.
“Mable,” I said as I watched her head lift and fall on her bed of hay. She was an enormous cow—probably a Jersey from what I could tell—but as strong as she likely was, she was perhaps now at her most vulnerable and exposed. She was panting, moaning, and struggling, which made my heart ache for her, because this moment of giving life was a life she herself hadn’t known existed until now. “We’re with
you, sweetie. We are—and all of us are rooting for you right now. This can’t be easy for you, but you do have to push, and then we’ll all take a big breath before you push again.”
Mable clocked me with a sidelong glance when I said that. I felt the pain in her gaze, and then she looked away and started to cry out again. But when she did, she also pushed, and three things appeared at once—two hooves and the beginnings of one flaring snout.
“Well, shit,” Harold said as he looked at me. “You might be a damned cow whisperer, Lisa, and you don’t even know it. Because from what the boys have told me, she went into labor last night. I’ve been with her for the past hour, and none of us have gotten her this far. Keep talking to her. She’s responding to your voice. Let her hear it and be supported by it.”
“Can I touch her?” I asked.
“Best not to. Just talk to her.”
“Mable,” I said to her in a low, coaxing voice as I hunched down on my knees. “You’re about to give birth to your first calf. Come on, girl. Give us another push. You can do it. I know you can.”
When Mable twisted her body on the hay and pushed again, her calf suddenly slid halfway out of her as she reared her backside up into the air. For a moment, Harold just looked at me in surprise. “I should hire you,” he said, “because you’re making brisk work of this. Mable is clearly responding to you.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “If she’s been in labor since last night, I just happened to come along at the right moment. I think we should give Mable the credit here, not me.”
Unleash Me: Wedding (The Unleash Me Series) Page 9