They took turns leaving the bags of zucchini and running away. Lori hadn’t had this much fun in, well, in days, since she’d last been around John.
They worked their way up the road until, finally, with just one bag left, John drove into a fancier neighborhood, and pointed to a house down the street. “Okay. You get the honors on the last one.”
She did her own Kronk imitation onto the porch, hearing John’s laughter behind her. She set down the bag and reached for the bell—when the door opened!
She was caught!
“Ah-haaaaa!” A tall man with a dark goatee scowled at her and called over his shoulder. “Honey, call the cops. We’ve got us a zucchini doorbell ditcher.”
Shocked, heart hammering, Lori stammered, “I’m sorry, I—”
But the man started chuckling and opened the door. “Come on in, Lori. John called and said you’d be along for some pie.”
Once she was over her shock, she recognized John’s friend, Quinn Jackson. His short, dark-haired wife, Tricia, came to stand beside him, shaking her head. “Men and their silly games. Come in and we’ll discuss how you can get back at John. Maybe I’ll put a raw egg on top of his pie.”
“I heard that,” said John, coming up behind Lori. “And you would never do that, Tricia.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t, eh?” Tricia allowed herself to be swept into a bear hug with John.
As he pulled back, he said, “Nah. You’re much too nice.”
~
At the end of the evening, after playing card games with John and Quinn and Tricia, eating delicious homemade peach pie with ice cream (and no eggs on top), watching the couple hold their two children and lavish attention on them, and after the much shorter drive home, Lori sat quietly and companionably in the pickup as John pulled over to the curb.
“This has been fun.” He climbed down and helped her out the passenger side. After the initial touch of his hand to help her down, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
She had to give him points for trying to keep it just friends. But could he keep from trying to kiss her at the door? If he did try, she wasn’t sure she had enough strength to turn him away.
At the door, he leaned in. He was going to kiss her. What did she do now? Her heart hammered in her chest harder than it had when Quinn had caught her doorbell ditching.
“I’m trying to remember how friends say good night.” He reached out and shook her hand. “See you later.”
As he walked to his truck, she realized he’d kept his word.
She felt downright cheated!
She wanted that kiss!
Oh, she was in so much trouble. If she had any sense, she’d leave Brigham City tomorrow. But she was, apparently, a fool because she was going to stay put, drawn to John like a moth to a flame.
~
The next morning, John and his father and brothers had helped out at the Peach Days Fire Department Breakfast from six until after ten. After washing up, he’d taken in the parade on Main Street.
Afterward, he climbed into his truck and pulled out his cell phone. He called his father, who’d ridden home with Roy. “I’m coming over. I need some advice.”
“About what, son?”
“About Lori,” John admitted.
“Great. See you soon.”
When John pulled up to the curb at his parents’ house, though, he saw three extra trucks. His brothers were here. No way was he going to talk romance with his brothers around. He began to pull away when he caught sight of his father in the doorway, waving him in.
Why did he have such a bad feeling about this?
His parents’ living room was large and roomy with two long curved couches, two easy chairs, and a baby grand piano on which his mother had given lessons to all her children and grandchildren.
At the moment, his three brothers and their wives were seated on the couches. His mother sat in one of the chairs. Other than his father’s La-Z-Boy recliner, the only seating space left was the piano bench.
He could hear the sound of kids playing downstairs.
His worst nightmare faced him—but he wasn’t going to stay here and let it happen. He turned toward the door, but his three brothers moved between him and the door. John didn’t like the smug smiles on their faces.
“Uh, Dad, can we go in your den?” John asked quietly. “This is kinda private.”
“Nonsense, son,” his father boomed out, motioning toward the entire huge family, sitting around like predators waiting for any sign of weakness from John. “Everybody wants to help you. We’ve been giving this a great deal of thought.”
John groaned. “You told them?”
“He sure did, little bro,” said Clint. “Come in, sit down, and learn how to become a great lover.”
Feeling his face flush hot, John pulled out the piano bench and sat. He was sure he was going to regret this.
Roy tapped John’s shoulder. “Give her ice cream. It works every time with Becky.”
“That’s because she’s pregnant, moron,” Kirk said. “You need to be romantic. Like this.” He got down on one knee. “And take her flowers. Roses. Lots and lots of roses.”
“He’s not in the doghouse, fool.” Clint shook his head. “Out of my way, amateurs. What you need to do, John, is buy the lady some tickets to an expensive concert. Les Mis works wonders.”
Becky struggled to her swollen feet and waddled over to John, one hand on her back and the other out, as if for balance. She needed a Wide Load sign, her belly had gotten so big. “Come with me, and let the women give you advice on winning a woman’s heart.”
She took his hand. Trapped, he let himself be led to the curved part of the couch, surrounded by the women in his family: Opal and Julie on his left, Becky and his mother on his right.
“Okay,” Opal said. “What’s the problem? I thought everything was going great.”
John stared at them. They really expected him to talk?
The men laughed. Clint said, “Talk to them, John. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.”
John glared at his brothers.
“So,” Becky said, putting a finger under his chin and turning his face back in her direction. “Wasn’t everything going well?”
“I thought so,” admitted John, trying to speak softly so his brothers couldn’t hear.
It didn’t work. Clint laughed. “That’s how much you know, fool.”
“Shush,” Julie told her husband. Amazingly, that worked. She patted John’s hand. “Go on.”
“I thought everything was great. And then she said we’re getting too involved.”
“Ooohhhh,” said all four women in unison. John thought it sounded pretty ominous.
But then Becky said, “That’s wonderful news!”
“It is?” John didn’t understand any of this woman stuff.
“Sure,” said Julie. “It means she likes you more than she feels comfortable with.”
“So,” said Opal, “you’ve just got to be her friend for awhile until she feels comfortable again. Sometimes a woman just needs to get used to the view.”
“And what a view,” sighed Becky.
“How would you know?” Clint teased. “You got ugly Roy.”
“Shut up.” Roy punched Clint’s shoulder.
Becky stood again, all five-foot-four of her, her waist-length wavy brown hair pulled back in its usual ponytail, big brown doe eyes blazing, and put her hands on her hips. She actually looked ticked off, a most un-Becky-ish thing. “All of you men need to leave. Now.”
They laughed until their mother shooed them out. “Get out of here, boys. You, too, Bill.”
As he left the room, John’s father called out, “I like Lori. She’s a keeper.”
The noise moved down the hall and
the women settled in. “Now maybe we can get something planned,” said his mother.
“Planned?” asked John, concerned. “It’s not an invasion.”
“Of course it is,” said Julie. “You don’t think we’d leave all of this important stuff up to you, do you? You’d just screw it up.”
“Obviously,” muttered Opal.
John’s nervousness grew the longer he listened to the women. Finally, he said, “Can’t I just go over and be nice to her?”
“Does she want you going over?” asked Becky.
“Well, no. But when I do, she lets me stay and help her harvest zucchini.”
“Harvest time will be over soon, son,” his mother pointed out. “Then what?”
“Then she’ll be going back to New York,” said Opal. “We can’t wait that long.”
“Yes. We have to do something now.” John’s mother lifted her finger to her mouth. The others were quiet and watched her. John felt very much like a little boy at the moment, and he didn’t like it. Finally, she smiled and looked at John. “Do you happen to know Lori’s mother’s name? Or have her phone number?”
“Her name is Evelyn Scott, but I don’t know her number.”
Julie patted his hand again. “Where does she live?”
“Schenectady. New York.”
His mother smiled. “That’s it, then.”
John began to grow light-headed. He feared he was beginning to hyperventilate. “What’s it? What are you going to do?”
“Call information, get her number, and call. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” John groaned. “Never mind. I can do this on my own. Forget I came over.”
“Too late.” Becky pulled out her cell phone and handed it to John. “Here, punch in Lori’s number.”
“What am I going to say to her?”
“You’re not going to say a thing. I am.”
He balked until Becky pushed his shoulder. “Do it.”
He punched in the numbers and handed the phone back to Becky, trying to take several deep breaths so the light-headedness would fade. It helped a little, and gave him something to focus on while he listened to Becky cheerfully chat with Lori and invite her to the Peach Days Community Symphony performance at two that afternoon.
His head still spinning, he wondered why on earth he had ever turned to his family for help.
Look at the havoc they’d wrought in less than an hour.
John was completely out of the loop.
His mother was going to befriend Lori’s mother.
And his pregnant sister-in-law had a date with his girlfriend.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Thanks. I had a great time,” said Lori as they left the courthouse. “The music did me good.”
Becky smiled at her. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
Becky had given her a ride over. And she had just as much trouble getting behind the wheel with her huge belly this time as before.
“How can you even drive?”
“Because I’m too stubborn not to.” She started the car and turned toward Lori’s neighborhood. “Plus my feet are too swollen to walk.”
They drove in silence for a moment. Becky shot her a glance. Then another.
“What?” asked Lori.
“I’m just wondering . . . how are things going with John?”
Lori looked at Becky, huge as a blimp. “When are you due again?”
Becky groaned. “I still have a little over three weeks—and don’t you dare change the subject on a grouchy pregnant woman.”
“Did he ask you to do this?”
“Are you kidding? Of course not! It freaked him out that I called you. But I had to know how you feel about him.”
Lori sighed. “I’ll be leaving soon. I need to keep my distance and not get any more involved with John right now.”
“So you admit you are involved, then.”
Lori sighed again. “I like John very much.”
“Do you love him?”
Words caught in her throat. Hurt rose within her. She couldn’t go there. How could she tell Becky she loved John, but still had to leave him? “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If you love him, why don’t you allow yourself to be with him?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Oh, Lori, I can see it in your eyes. Every time you look at him, I can see it. And every time he looks at you, he glows.”
The hurt threatened to overwhelm her. She didn’t know how to make Becky understand without telling her the truth—and she could never reveal her secret. “Becky, please. I can’t talk about it. It’s not an easy decision, but one I feel is my only option.”
“Okay.” It was Becky’s turn to sigh. “But if you need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.”
~
“Now what are you doing?” asked John, feeling totally out of control. What had he started when he’d called his father earlier? The Walker family troops had been mobilized. Everyone had gone home with their assignments.
And his mother had just picked up the telephone again. Luckily there’d been no answer at Lori’s mom’s house earlier, and he was hoping his own mother had given up her silly quest.
Not that he didn’t trust her. But he didn’t trust her.
“I’m just calling a friend,” his mother reassured him, motioning for him to sit at the kitchen table.
When he did, she set a piece of his favorite homemade pie—peach—in front of him.
He looked up at her and frowned. “Mom, I’m not six years old. You can’t bribe me with pie anymore.”
“Shhh.” She placed her finger to her lips. “It’s ringing.”
If his mother was calling her best friend, Diane, then he was going to have to listen to her recite his own love-life fiasco. Diane already knew every intimate detail of the Walker family life, he was sure.
Frowning, John wondered if the symphony was over yet. What had Becky said to Lori? What had Lori said to Becky? And had Becky taken Lori home yet?
Waiting was driving him nuts. Being out of control was driving him even more nuts. His family drove him the most nuts of all.
He lifted the fork and took a bite of pie. It was pretty good, so he took another. He might as well enjoy something tonight.
“Hi,” his mother said. “My name is Irene Walker.”
John looked her way. She wouldn’t need to introduce herself to Diane. So who was she calling? Which friend would need an introduction?
“May I please speak with Evelyn Scott?”
She was calling Lori’s mother! John dropped his fork. “Mom!”
His mother ignored him. “Oh, I’m so glad I reached you. I’m John Walker’s mother. He’s been dating your daughter, Lori. . . . Yes, we’re thrilled about it, too. Lori is a delightful girl. We all adore her.”
He sat there in disbelief, listening to snippets of conversation from his mother’s end and guessing at Lori’s mother’s reactions. He realized he truly was caught in a nightmare and there seemed to be no way out.
“Oh, yes, he always got very good grades. . . . You should have seen how cute he was! . . . He went on a mission to Sweden. . . . He’s an Eagle Scout.”
He groaned. “Mother! Stick to the subject!”
Calmly, without even glancing in his direction, his mother said, “I am sticking to the subject, dear.”
Unable to listen to any more, he left the room and drifted into the family room, dropping his body into the couch next to his father. He tried to focus on the game on TV.
“Hi, son. What’s your mother doing?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
His father raised an eyebrow.
“She’s talking to Lori’s mother.”
His father laughed. “Women are very good at this romance thing. Just leave it all up to the mothers and sisters-in-law and Lori will be yours in no time.”
“Do you really believe that, Dad?”
“Not really. But it’s a fact of life that once you fall in love with a woman, you have to pretend to believe it or you’ll never have any peace.”
“Great, Dad. You’re making it sound more appealing all the time.”
A few minutes later, his mother came in, smiling. “It’s all arranged. Lori’s mother is in.”
“What did she say?” John practically growled.
“Don’t worry, dear. It’s all taken care of.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything?”
“No, I’m not. Now run along home. I’ll need to talk to Becky when she gets back and I don’t want you around.”
With another growl, another eye roll, and a shake of his head, he got up. “I can’t take any more of this dating by proxy. I’m outta here.”
~
That night, as Lori snuggled into her bed under just a sheet—it was still too warm for blankets—she couldn’t get her conversation with Becky out of her mind. John liked her, wanted to be with her, still loved her.
She’d done everything she could to distract herself. She’d played Solitaire—with real cards, even—on the kitchen table. She’d watched an old favorite, Casablanca, on television, but this time the ending was too sad, too similar to the plane she’d be boarding soon, not with a husband, but with her tattered dreams of a happy life.
Now she was trying to lose herself in a good novel. Only she couldn’t get past the first five pages, though she’d been reading for nearly an hour.
When her phone rang and she saw it was her mother, she was glad for the distraction. “Hi, Mom. How are things in New York?”
Lori relaxed as her mother brought her up-to-date on her latest escapades as Relief Society president, the ward gossip, and Greg’s dating life.
“Lori, honey.” Her mother paused. “It’s time for you to get on with your own future.”
“That certainly came out of the blue. What are you talking about, Mom?”
How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini Page 22