She smiled at his admission.
“I need a nice girl like you, Missy.” For a sad, tender moment, he studied her eyes. “For some reason, I attract the other kind.”
Didn’t he know? Should she say it? “It’s probably on account of your bumper stickers,” she said.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He nodded thoughtfully.
She knew she was; she’d seen it firsthand.
CHAPTER 50
Eight weeks later . . .
Missy wiped her floured hands on the cornflower blue apron that Robert’s mother had sewn for her and reread Bertha’s recipe for spiced pumpkin cake.
“Add mashed pumpkin, oil, and eggs and beat until emulsified,” she said aloud. “What’s emulsified mean?”
The phone rang. It was Jean; the sound of her sweet voice made Missy smile.
“Are you coming over for dinner tonight?” Missy asked. It would be the sixth, maybe seventh Tuesday in a row, if she did.
“Yes, I’m bringing Sweetheart Salad. It’s a little similar to Highway Salad, but it has maraschino cherries in it. You shape it in this heart mold and it’s really sweet; you’ll see.”
“Sounds great. I’ll set another place at the table.” Missy cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. “You don’t happen to know what emulsified means? I’m making a pumpkin cake and it says to beat until emulsified.”
“It probably means to do a really good job of it. The reason I’m calling is I’m at a payphone in Felida. I just saw Robert’s vehicle broken down on the side of the road. I’m positive it was him looking under the hood. You know that leisure suit of his is hard to miss.”
Missy glanced at the ingredients on the counter. “I’ll go check on him.” She’d finish the cake when she got back; at least it wasn’t in the oven yet. “Daddy will be glad you’re coming tonight.”
“You think so?” There was a noticeable lilt to Jean’s voice.
“Yes, salad or no salad.”
Missy hung up the phone and headed for the garage.
“Daddy...” She stepped into the office doorway. “Jean just called. Robert’s broke down again. I think I may need a tow chain this time.”
“Don’t wear that pretty apron.” He shook his head. “I haven’t shown Robert all the ins and outs of towing yet.” His boots were propped up on the desk as he wrote out an invoice.
“You’re right. I better not.” She untied the apron, and laid it over the top of the customer chair. Tucking her white T-shirt into her jeans, she walked into the second bay. A heavy-duty chain would be a smart back-up to the tow strap she kept in her truck.
“Could be a number of things,” Daddy said from the office doorway. “Grab him something to drink, I bet he’s parched.”
“There’s nothing in the fridge.”
“Check the fridge in the garage.”
She frowned. The old refrigerator usually hosted Daddy’s cluster eggs and bait for fishing. Since when did he keep pop out there?
After she set the pile of chain in the bed of her truck, she walked across the gravel drive and took the side door into their garage. Daddy’s tackle boxes and an upside down ice chest littered the cement floor. She walked between them and pulled open the Frigidaire door. Sure enough an eight-pack of orange soda sat inside, with four bottles remaining. She grabbed two.
Missy took a sip of soda and drove south toward Felida. Up ahead, on the left-hand side of the road, in almost exactly the same spot as where they’d first met, sat Robert’s station wagon with the hood propped up. He leaned against his driver’s side door with his thumb held up.
She giggled. It was exactly the same spot.
No vehicles were behind her as she leaned out her open window.
“Need a hand?”
“What do you think?” He grinned.
She shook her head. The man still needed tools.
She did a U-turn in the middle of the two-lane country road and parked behind him in the gravel. For starters, she pulled her toolbox out from behind her bench seat. She’d see what was going on before she pulled out the tow strap. As she drew closer, she felt a sense of déjà-vu. She was reminded of her city slicker impression of him the first time they met.
“Who called you?” he asked, and appeared pretty chipper for being broken down on the side of the road.
“Jean, from a payphone.” She set her toolbox in the gravel in front of the car, and handed him the bottle of soda.
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
He’d said the same thing the first time she’d helped him. Did he remember?
“What’re the symptoms?” She glanced to the small engine block.
“It’s been making a lot of noise and misfiring. Valves need attention. Oil pump’s pretty worn. I think it needs a ring job.”
“Listen to you. You sound so . . . attractive.”
He grinned.
“You said it was misfiring?”
“Yes, it was definitely misfiring. My next paycheck, I plan on buying some tools and a couple Hungry-Man TV dinners.”
“Are you hinting that we’re going on a real date?” She rounded the passenger side of the vehicle to take a look at the manifold and glanced over at him.
“Yes, I’m hinting.” His chest rose as he glanced from the engine to her eyes. “We have to make sure the other two men in your life are fed.”
“I’ve already loaded the freezer with TV dinners.”
“Good.” He glanced again at the hoses. Daddy had obviously not informed him that hoses were a quick, cheap fix.
“So, a lot of misfiring?” She peered up at him.
“Yes.” He nodded.
First, she’d check the distributor to make sure all the spark plug wires were connected properly. She leaned under the hood. Beneath the maze of hoses and wires, something red sat on top of the manifold. She peered closer it was a red velvet box.
Her heart stopped.
To steady herself, she grabbed the top of the fender.
Robert wore an unblinking, serious expression.
It was all a set-up. Jean’s phone call. The orange soda. His broken-down wagon . . .
She wiggled the box free and looked at him.
“What is it?”
“Your future—yours and mine, that is.”
She’d heard him correctly; she knew she had. She basked in the moment.
In front of his wagon, on a straight stretch of a country road, Robert bent one knee to the gravel, and took her nearest hand in his.
“I love you, Missy.” He looked up at her. “I always have.” He smiled. “With the Lord’s blessing, we’ll share a beautiful life together. Marry me.”
His eyes spoke poetry and Missy listened with all her heart.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you too. More than words can say.” After a moment spent trying to remember every word of his proposal, she opened the box.
“I had a good month.” He slid the diamond ring on her finger.
“A very good month.” She marveled, holding her hand up to the light.
“How about a simple, chocolate wedding cake?” Robert eyed her happily. “Nothing with cabbage.”
“I thought you said you weren’t funny.”
“I’m not, not really.”
In his arms, she marveled at how much he’d changed since the first time they’d met. Or maybe it was just her opinion that had changed. And, if she were honest with herself, she’d probably changed a little too.
Just a little.
Sherri’s Christian romances:
Fried Chicken and Gravy available in audio
Sticky Notes – available in audio
A Wife and a River – fishing romance
The Piano Girl – for ages 7 to 107
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or the use of his Chevy Nomad illustration. To go to Frank’s website click on the car:
RECIPES
Recipes are also included on the following pages for:
Marilee’s Chicken Divan
Jean’s Pistachio Salad
Bertha’s Sweet and Sour Meatballs
On my website, you’ll find Amy Thielen’s recipe for Fried Chicken and Gravy. We’re not allowed to post it here due to publishing rights with her cookbook, The New Midwestern Table; but we are able to share it on my website. A big hug to Amy.
Jean’s Fluffy Pistachio Salad
also known as Highway Salad
1 (20-oz) can crushed pineapple, undrained
1 (3 oz.) pkg. instant pistachio pudding mix
1 (12 oz.) carton cottage cheese
1 (8-ounce) container Cool Whip, softened
1. In a large bowl, mix the undrained crushed pineapple with the package of instant pudding until well combined.
2. Stir in the remaining ingredients.
3. Cover with Saran Wrap and refrigerate for an hour or more before serving.
4. If you’re in the car making this on the way to someone’s home, it’ll set up fine, but it won’t be quite as yummy at room temperature. Please don't stir and drive.
Bertha's Sweet and Sour Meatballs
1 (20-ounce) can pineapple chunks
1/3 cup water
3 T. vinegar
1 T. soy sauce
½ cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1 large green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
Homemade meatballs or packaged Italian meatballs
Steamed white rice
1. Drain pineapple and reserve the juice in a one-cup measuring cup. Add water to pineapple juice, if needed to make one cup. Pour juice into a large saucepan. Add 1/3 cup water, vinegar, soy sauce, brown sugar and cornstarch. Stir until smooth.
2. Cook over medium heat until thick, stirring constantly.
3. Add the pineapple, meatballs and green pepper.
4. Simmer uncovered for 20 minutes or until heated through.
5. Serve with steamed white rice. Sit down at the table with your family and, say a prayer.
Serves four (or one teenage boy)
Marilee's Chicken Divan
2 bunches fresh broccoli
4 chicken breasts, steamed and then cut into
bite-sized pieces
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 cup mayonnaise
2 T. lemon juice
1 T. curry powder
1 to 2 cups grated cheddar cheese
1 small loaf French bread, cubed into 1/2" pieces
Steamed white rice
1. Steam broccoli until just barely tender. (It only takes a couple minutes.)
2. Chop the steamed broccoli and arrange in the bottom of a 9 x 13" glass baking dish.
3. Spread the chicken pieces over the top of the broccoli. At this point, I usually sprinkle a light seasoning of Johnny's or salt and pepper over the top of the chicken.
4. In a separate bowl, combine the soups, mayonnaise, lemon juice and curry powder. Spread over the top of the chicken. Sprinkle cheese over the top, and distribute the cubed bread.
5. Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until bubbly, and completely heated through.
(If you’ve refrigerated it along the way, you’ll need to bake it longer. It should be steaming hot.)
6. Serve with steamed white rice. Sit down at the table with your family and, thank the good Lord above.
This delicious casserole serves at least six.
Thank you and God bless,
Sherri
Fried Chicken and Gravy - Christian Romance Page 27