"There he is, Momma, right on time. I'll help you get your coat on, and he'll take you home"
Marty, Betsy, and Crystal wasted no time getting to the back door to see who had honked. Poor little Crystal's face was a sight to behold, but Marty and Betsy's jaws hanging loose and eyes nearly popping out of their heads was just payment for the night they'd made fun of Billy Lee at the fireworks show.
"What in the .. " Betsy got control of her jaw before Marty did.
Momma clapped her hands together like a little girl. "I told you. See there? It's Billy Bob Thornton in his red Caddy. Come on, Lessie. He'll give us a ride down Main Street and then take us to the home. He's a good man."
Lessie led her outside, where "Billy Bob" opened and closed doors with a flourish and then drove away.
"I know that's real, but I don't believe my eyes," Crystal said.
"God, that thing is beautiful," Marty said. "I had no idea Billy Lee had a car like that"
"It is gorgeous, isn't it? You don't think they'll catch pneumonia riding with the top down, do you?" I asked.
"If they did, they'd both die happy," Crystal said with a laugh.
Later that night when everyone had gone home, I sat in the living room in the dark, the quilt rack Billy Lee had given me for Christmas close enough that I could touch it. Tomorrow I'd find the perfect place for it in the sparsely furnished living room.
Billy Lee had asked Crystal what her passion was. I asked myself the same question as I sat there watching the ornaments sparkle on the tree. My first Christmas in my new house had been beyond wonderful. My daughter was home. Momma had been lucid for a little while. Billy Lee? Well, words couldn't describe Billy Lee.
But what was my passion? I'd jumped into remodeling with zeal, but the job was almost finished. We had some minor details in the new downstairs bathroom and the kitchen to finish up, but that didn't involve stripping wood or the floor man's putting us out of the house for three days. When that was finished, what then?
What was my passion?
Had I ever had one, even as a child? I had wanted to fly airplanes, but that dream had disappeared when I put my Barbie plane away with the dolls. I'd wanted to go to college and get a degree back when Drew and I first married, but that didn't appeal to me anymore. I'd enjoyed fixing up the house, but I didn't want to do that again. Billy Lee said I should write the story of the past six months or so, but who would believe such things?
My stomach growled, and I headed toward the kitchen to have a late-night snack. There was so little furniture in the dining room that there was no danger I'd fall over anything. Just the long table surrounded by chairs and a few choice pieces of glassware on the bookshelves. Gone were two rockers and two old overstuffed chairs with tables and lamps beside them, and the walls were bare except for a single quilt hanging from an oak rod.
From the dining room I went into the kitchen and flipped the switch, bathing the room in soft light. I was still trying to figure out whether I wanted a sandwich or just a chunk of turkey when I stepped on a slimy, squishy slug with my bare foot. In horror, I hopped on the other foot to the sink, acrobatically stuck the first foot in, and turned the water on full blast to get the offending debris off me. Naturally, I soaked my pajamas and had to change into a fresh set.
Evidently I raised such a ruckus that a sleepy Crystal came downstairs to see what was going on.
She cocked her head to one side. "I heard some commotion. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine"
"But ... wait. Aren't you wearing different pajamas?"
"Yes, I am"
She covered a yawn with one hand and grinned at me. "So explain, young lady. What did you do to warrant changing pajamas? Did you slip through the hedge to spend some time with Billy Lee? Am I going to have to give you the daughter/ mother talk?"
Scarlet burned my cheeks. "Sit down, kid, and let me tell you all about it. And, honey, what I did wasn't nearly as much fun as sneaking through the hedge to steal kisses from Billy Lee, which, by the way, I've never done"
Okay, so I'd kissed Billy Lee. But I hadn't snuck through the hedge, so I wasn't lying.
She pulled out a kitchen chair. "Then we have to have a serious talk. If you don't get busy, someone, maybe even Betsy, is going to steal him right out from under your nose. Her eyes glittered when she saw the furniture he'd built, and I could see dollar signs in her eyes when he drove that vintage Caddy up into the yard. She had no idea he had that kind of thing going out there in his shop or that he owned a car like that. She's not stupid. I'm surprised he's outrun the women of Tishomingo this long."
"Advice noted and taken" I'd seen the new look in both my cousins' eyes when they realized what Billy Lee was worth and could do.
I went on to tell her about stepping on the slug, getting my pajamas wet when I stood on one leg and put my foot into the sink to wash it off, and having to change. By the time I finished, she was laughing so hard, she couldn't breathe. It wasn't all that funny to me, having just lived through the nightmare, but it was good to see her laughing the way she had when she was a little girl, from deep down in her belly.
She wiped at her eyes with the tail of her nightshirt. Could a baby really be hiding in that flat tummy? What would she look like when she was nine months pregnant and her tiny waistline was gone?
"Momma, you are so funny. You've got to write this stuff down, and don't leave out a word. I want to remember it just like you told it. And write down other things you've done too. In fact, you should write a whole book. Then, when I'm your age, I can look back and read about exactly how crazy and wonderful you were"
She yawned. "Look, it's past midnight. This has been the best Christmas ever in the whole wide world. It will go down in history, won't it, Momma? The Christmas of the Slug. The Christmas when Billy Lee Tucker made me get up at seven in the morning to cook, then gave me a handmade jewelry case. The one when we sat down to dinner with Grandma, and `Billy Bob Thornton' drove her home in his red Cadillac" She looked into my eyes. "I love you, Momma," she said, and she hugged me fiercely.
"You should have seen your grandmother at Thanksgiving. That was when she first became convinced that Billy Lee was Billy Bob Thornton, and she flirted and laughed and told stories that I wished I'd known when I was younger."
"Funny, he doesn't really look like Billy Bob Thornton. He's a sight better looking ... more like ... like .. " Crystal frowned, trying to think of who Billy Lee reminded her of.
"Harrison Ford?" I suggested.
"That's it exactly! Like he looked in The Fugitive." "
"Don't tell your grandmother that. She really thinks he's Billy Bob Thornton"
.,We've been through a lot, but we're in a good place, right, Momma?"
I nodded happily, and Crystal gave me a brilliant smile, then yawned again. "Okay, I'm going back to bed now. You stay out of the kitchen and away from slugs. Good night, Momma."
"Sleep well, pumpkin"
I thought about what Crystal had said about writing down stuff about the past year. If I did, then maybe someday when she was bone tired and her rebellious child had dealt her a week's worth of pure misery, she could read the silly slug story and laugh as hard as she had that evening.
She didn't have morning sickness the next day and was still sleeping soundly when I made my way to the kitchen. Billy Lee had let himself in the back door and was frying bacon when I got there. He picked up a mug featuring Maxine making a wry comment about mornings on it, filled it with coffee, set it in front of me, and returned to the bacon.
"Eggs or pancakes?"
"Both. I'm starving."
"I guess it was a pretty good Christmas if you're hungry enough the next morning for both eggs and pancakes," he said.
I'd started lifting the mug toward my mouth but suddenly spilled the coffee onto my white sweatshirt. I sighed. Coffee stains did not come out of sweatshirts.
"You going to let Crystal sleep this morning?"
I nodded. I didn't tell hi
m that I didn't want to share him and that I treasured the moments we had alone.
"Good. I want to talk to you about something important, and I don't want her to hear."
My heart stopped. What could it be? Was something wrong? Or did he want to make sure that Crystal knew we were just friends?
"What?"
"Her dream is to have a greenhouse someday, and we could give her that now. It will keep her busy and give her something to keep her mind occupied while she's waiting for the baby. I figure we could attach one end to the shop and build it to the south. That way she'd have it right close to the house"
I'd been so busy with the holiday preparations, I'd given little thought to actually acting on what Billy Lee had called her passion.
"What do you think? Or have I overstepped my boundaries?" he asked.
"I think you're a genius. It's a wonderful idea. When can we start, and is this the right time of year to do that? But would you mind having the greenhouse on your property?"
"I've got plenty of room for it. She can get started and begin lining up clients to sell to all year round, and she can do even more in the spring when people want to come straight to a greenhouse for their bedding plants. I did a lot of research online last night, and I've already drawn up some plans for her to look at. The only thing is, I don't know if ... if . . ." He stammered, and his voice trailed off.
"Yes?" I asked, mystified.
"I've always wanted a family, Trudy," he blurted. "Gert was like my grandmother. Even though I'm not Crystal's father, would you be willing to share? May I at least be her friend and help her out in this way?"
"Share what?" Crystal asked sleepily from the doorway.
"You," I answered honestly. "Billy Lee and I would like to share in your future. How would you like to start building a greenhouse next door?"
That opened her big blue eyes wide, and they glittered like the lights on the Christmas tree. Her passion was digging in dirt, Billy Lee had discovered. His was working with woodand making miracles. I think I found mine late the night before, when I couldn't fall asleep and actually wrote down the story of the Christmas of the Slug. It would be great if someday I actually wrote something that would sell, but if I never wrote for anyone but my daughter, that was all right too.
Brochures and a sketchbook were spread out over the kitchen table. It was day one of the planning stage. Crystal had visions of hothouse orchids and begonias dancing in her head. Billy Lee was designing and erasing as she told him what she had learned in her horticulture classes.
I sat in front of the cabinets on the kitchen floor discovering some of the aftereffects of being raised during the Great Depression. Aunt Gert had saved absolutely everything. I was sorting through stacks and stacks of plastic margarine containers, along with anything else that had a lid on it. The trash cans were still crammed to capacity from the Christmas detritus the garbage truck hadn't yet picked up on its holiday schedule, so the big black bag I was filling up would have to be stored in the garage until we could make a run to the dump. I stood up with a moan.
.,You want me to take that out?" Billy Lee asked.
"It's not heavy. I can do it. Ya'll about to decide how big to make that thing?"
"Momma, I'd be happy with a plastic-covered bamboo hut to start with, but Billy Lee wants to make it permanent, with glass and steel."
"If this is truly your dream, then best to make it right," I told her.
I slipped on one of Gert's old jackets and threw the bag over my shoulder. If the jacket had been red, I might have looked like a Johnny-come-lately Santa Claus, but it was a faded green plaid. I probably looked more like a bag woman who'd had a good day Dumpster-diving.
I'd tossed the bag into the garage and was on my way back to the house when I heard a weird mewling beside the back porch. I stopped dead. After my recent experience with the Christmas Slug in my kitchen, I wasn't feeling very trustful about any unexpected critters. What if it was a rat the size of a mountain lion throwing off pitiful noises so I'd come nearer, and then it would scare the bejesus out of me?
I heard it again and carefully crept closer. If it was a rat, Crystal and Billy Lee could cart my carcass to the funeral home. At least the divorce was final, and Crystal would now be my only living survivor, so she'd get Aunt Gert's inheritance, and Drew couldn't touch a dime of it. I carefully peeked behind the scrap lumber the carpenters had piled up beside the porch.
It was not a rat but a cat-a big fluffy ball of gray and orange fur curled up around two baby kittens. She looked up at me with the same pitiful eyes that Crystal had had when she'd showed up on my doorstep a week before. Half expecting the momma cat to claw my hand off to nothing more than a bloody nub, I carefully reached down to pet her.
She purred, and my heart melted. I tucked her two kittens into the jacket's patch pocket and draped the momma over my arm. The purring got louder as I carried her into the house, as if she knew those babies couldn't survive outside in the winter, and I was their salvation.
Neither Billy Lee nor Crystal looked up.
"Hey, look what I found."
Crystal was on her feet and had that momma cat in her arms in an instant. "Oh, isn't she beautiful? But we can't keep her. Daddy is allergic to cats"
The look on her face was one of horror. "I'm so sorry. That just slipped out"
"Don't be sorry, Crystal. Drew is still your father. You can talk about him anytime you want," Billy Lee said.
She grinned. "Thank you. This really is an open house, isn't it?"
"It is," I said.
"Billy Lee and I decided from day one that we weren't going to waste time on 'nice.'"
"But you are," she argued. "I've never been around anyone as nice to each other as you two"
Billy Lee looked down at his papers.
I didn't know what to say.
"Can we keep her, please?" Crystal begged.
The cat purred as she stroked its fur, and both of them looked at me with the same pleading eyes.
"Billy Lee, you allergic to cats?" I asked.
I'd gotten quite fond of finding him in the kitchen every morning, coffee ready, bacon or sausage frying. Not even a momma cat with two kittens would stand in the way of me and my breakfast.
"I'm not allergic to anything. Got a cat myself. Used to hang around my shop, looking for handouts, and finally decided it was safe to wander inside. With the field behind us, there're always mice looking for warmth in the winter. Since old Lion started coming around ten years ago, I haven't seen a single one in the house or the shop."
"For real?" I asked.
"Absolutely. Lion would just love for a mouse to sneak in so he'd have something to pester other than me"
Would I never stop learning all the complexities of this man? He had a cat, its name was Lion, and he'd never mentioned it. But then, we were always in Gert's-my, I corrected myself-house, so how was Ito know?
But that settled it. I'd adopt a dozen cats if they'd keep the mice-and, I hoped, slugs-from the house.
"We can keep her if she'll promise she'll never let a mouse into the house," I said.
"She'll be a good cat and scare them all away, won't you?" Crystal baby-talked to the cat.
"I've got some extra litter and an old pan over at the house. I'll go get it for you," Billy Lee said.
"Oh, I almost forgot" I reached inside my jacket pocket and brought out one fluffy yellow kitten and a black-and-white one. "This is a three-for-one day."
Crystal squealed.
I handed them to her. "You take care of them while I find a laundry basket and an old blanket."
In half an hour we were back to business. Billy Lee and Crystal had their heads together studying irrigation systems in modern greenhouses, and I was finding more remnants of "waste not, want not"
The only difference was that now a plastic laundry basket with a blanket and three felines in it was sitting right beside Crystal's chair, close enough that she could pet the mother, which she'd already nam
ed Mary, because it was the Christmas season, and there had been no room in the inn for her to deliver her babies. She wanted to name one of the kittens Jesus, but I wasn't about to start dodging lightning bolts. They could be Fluffy and Boots or whatever else cats were supposed to be named.
The morning got away from me quickly. I looked up at the clock to find it was straight-up noon at the same time Crystal declared she was hungry. Billy Lee organized their notes and put them into a folder. I pushed a second garbage bag to a corner.
"There's clam chowder in the refrigerator and still half a loaf of homemade bread," I said.
Billy Lee heated soup.
I sliced bread.
Crystal set the table and opened ajar of peaches for dessert.
"I reckon we could have the greenhouse built by the time the baby is born. You could have a grand opening," Billy Lee said as we ate.
"I don't want a big to-do. I want to do some advertising and start to work. If I'm good and my prices are reasonable, word will get around," she said.
Was this really my daughter?
"It'll be August when you open. Too late for bedding and garden plants," Billy Lee warned.
She had both kittens in her lap. "But just right for pansies and mums and bulbs and every other fall planting need. The cats can keep the mice out of the greenhouse too."
"Get ready for lots of hard work," I said.
"I don't see it as work, Momma. I can't wait to make things grow."
I fought back a bushelful of pure old jealousy when the two of them went back to discussing parking and office space; the latter would need room for a crib and a playpen. What was wrong with me? Crystal was my beloved daughter. Billy Lee was my dearest friend. But somehow I didn't want to play nice and share either one.
After lunch, Billy Lee went to his shop to work on the kitchen cabinets he had nearly completed. We'd spent our time at the table with brochures and yellow legal pads several weeks before. That's what had set me to cleaning out the old cabinets that day. Later that evening, after supper, I'd follow him out to the shop and do some staining. Crystal wasn't allowed in the shop because the fumes weren't good for a pregnant woman. For that little while I wouldn't have to share him, and I looked forward to it.
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