“You have a baby in there. When does it ever feel good?”
“Jellybean bothers me less than the idea of you wearing nasty, weeks-old socks. How long have you been wearing them?”
“Twenty-two days. Ever since the night Max first said he loved me.”
“That’s so gr—wait. You wouldn’t have been wearing socks to that dance.” She looked over by the door. “You wore sandals here, no socks.”
“When I said socks, I meant earrings.” I touched the pearls in my ears. “I wore these on the boat, and now I don’t want to take them off.”
She hit me with a pillow. “You’re the worst.”
“But that’s superstitious, right? I’m afraid to take them off in case it makes everything go wrong. Right now, everything is going so right. Kiana is killing it with her textbook business, and she’s already made enough to buy the materials she needs. It won’t be long before she repays her loan for the laptop, and the school will loan her the projector, so she doesn’t have to buy that. And Max? Is perfect.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“You don’t like him?”
“I like him, but no one’s perfect.”
“You’re right. He’s got his faults. But he works on them. So I guess that makes him perfect for me.”
“You guys are so good together it makes me want to puke.”
“Everything makes you want to puke.”
“No, that stopped a few weeks ago. Now it’s just you two.”
“It can’t last, right?”
“What? This honeymoon phase? No. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t always going to have a great thing. Do you think that’s what you’re heading for? Always?”
I rolled over to stare at her living room ceiling. “Yes.” I clapped my hands over my face when she squealed. “This is so crazy,” I mumbled.
“No, it’s not! You said it. He’s perfect for you. And he’s lucky to have you. You don’t need those earrings for luck. This is real.” She started humming the wedding march.
“Shut up.” I pinched her, and she giggled while she reached to unpause the movie. “Hold on,” I said, struggling to sit up. She started to as well, then grunted and stayed where she was. “I’ve been so sure this would work, so sure I followed a prompting when I got into this relationship, but I’m getting nervous. I think that’s what my obsession with the earrings is about. It’s getting real. No, this is real. But it can’t go like this indefinitely. I’ve seen how hard he works. He tells me about how happy his bosses are with him. He’s going to get promoted and transferred. Then what?”
Kate shrugged. “Then he takes a better position in this office and stays. You’re way better than a promotion.”
“What if he resents me?”
“Nothing you’ve said about him makes him sound like he’s the kind of guy who’s going to resent you. Are you really afraid of that?”
“Yeah.” It had become a slowly snarling knot in my chest, this fear that he would stay for me, pass up bigger opportunities, and eventually hold me responsible for not having the career he’d planned out for himself.
“Hey,” Kate said. “Stop the crazy worry spiral you’re doing. You are totally worth a change in his future plans. If he loves you, staying here with you to have a life together is going to feel like a privilege.”
I wanted to believe that, but I wasn’t sure I was a good consolation prize for losing his future CEO status. As if I’d conjured him, my phone vibrated and flashed his name on the caller ID.
Kate smiled at it. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m honored to be second place now.”
“He usually texts. I want to make sure nothing’s wrong.”
She waved for me to get on with it.
“Hey,” I said, climbing off the sofa bed as I answered.
“Hey yourself. You and Kate having a good time?”
“Always. What’s up?”
“Well . . .” And already I knew the rise and fall of his voice well enough to hear that he was trying to play it cool. “How would you feel about going out for a fancy dinner with me tomorrow after I get back in town?”
“How fancy?”
“Maison Lacour?”
My heart kicked into double time. “I could make that happen.”
“Good.”
“Is this a special occasion?”
“I think you’re worth a dinner at Maison Lacour every night.”
“Nice dodge.”
“I might have a surprise.”
I could barely hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears. I was on the balls of my feet, almost dancing with giddiness, but I kept my voice even. “I love surprises. Sounds like a good night.”
“Well, I love you. You make every night a good night. Pick you up at six thirty?”
“Sounds good. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
“Love you!” Kate repeated in a syrupy imitation. “I love that! I love hearing you say ‘I love you’ to a boy who deserves you. Hooray!”
“If you love that, I’m about to blow your mind. He’s taking me to dinner at Maison Lacour tomorrow night, and he says he has a surprise for me.”
Her jaw dropped. She didn’t breathe for a couple of seconds, and then she sucked all her air in as a huge gulp. “He’s going to propose! He’s totally going to propose.” She sang it. “He’s going to propose!” Then she climbed off the sofa and did an off-balance pregnant sashay. “Lila’s getting married, Lila’s getting married!”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
“You so are! Don’t take those earrings off. You were right about them! Now. Let’s talk about what you’re going to wear.”
We spent another hour goofing off before she got tired and I left. Even though it was past ten, I was too wired to sleep when I got home. I was going to slip down to the lake for a walk, but Mom was in the living room. “Hey,” I said. “I thought you’d be in bed already.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Sometimes you know before you lay down. I decided to work on the magnolia.”
“It looks beautiful.” She smiled at me for the compliment, but it wasn’t an all-there smile. “Are you okay?”
This time she blinked, and I got her full attention. “I’m fine, sweetie. Why?”
I settled down on the couch. “I don’t know. You don’t look sad, exactly. But you kind of do. Sorry. That doesn’t make sense. Were you thinking about Daddy?”
She set the embroidery hoop down in her lap and patted it, staring at the floor in front of her for a long moment. “Always. I was thinking too that it feels like the last two years of my life since he died somehow disappeared on me. I sleptwalked through them. I got Brady out on a mission, but I barely remember it. The flower shop has been running itself, but orders are starting to fall off. I was thinking that your daddy would understand how I’ve felt, but he wouldn’t like it. I don’t think this is how he would want my life to be.”
“Of course you’ve been sad, Mom. You lost the love of your life. No one gets over that. Your kids are doing fine. And Daddy absolutely knows how you feel. You shouldn’t feel bad about anything.”
“I don’t know about that, Lila. I don’t know. I’ve never been one to sit and let life pass me by, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”
I glanced to the fireplace mantel where our last family portrait hung. We’d taken the picture out by the lake, Daddy in a charcoal sweater that looked beautiful with his prematurely gray hair. A twinge of panic slivered through my chest like I was about to lose him again. “What are you saying? That you’re going back to work?”
“Among other things. I’m restless. I need to be more creative again. I was talking to Coleman, and he said he’s taking fiddle lessons and it’s been helping him deal with losing Debbie because he can’t think of anything but the fiddle when he’s trying to learn. None of my usual activities has really helped. I need something new.”
“He doesn’t know, Mom. It’s not the same for him. He doesn’
t get how it is for you.”
She gave me a startled look. “He understands almost better than anyone, don’t you think?”
“No. He doesn’t get how much you loved Daddy. So few people get a love like that. And he got to say good-bye. You didn’t. It’s not the same thing. It’s not.”
She looked away and bit her lower lip for a minute. It wasn’t something she did much. When she looked at me again, she wore the same expression she used to get when I’d come home complaining about mean girls when I was in fourth grade, like her heart hurt for me. She’d tell me that she loved me, that I’d get through it and one day understand it was a bump in the road. Seeing that look on her face now almost made me queasy, but I wasn’t sure why.
“I feel pretty understood by Coleman. And I understand him too. It’s watching him handle his grief with so much grace that’s made me realize how poorly I’ve handled mine. I got twenty-eight happy years with your father when some people don’t even get one like that. I’ll never stop missing him, but one of the things I learned being married to him is that each day is a gift, and we should use our gifts to bless each day.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. I’d heard him say that so many times.
“Oh, honey,” she said, hurrying to me on the sofa. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I miss him,” I said, melting into her hug.
She scooped my legs across her lap and held me tight. “I do too. More than ever. That’s what I’m figuring out. I went numb because I couldn’t have survived if I didn’t. But having a friend like Coleman, watching him let the grief in, he takes the bad so he can also feel the good. I haven’t done that enough. I’m trying to wake up, Lila. I’m trying to wake up.”
I stayed in her hug for a full minute before I sniffled and drew back to meet her eyes. I forced out a question that tried to choke me. “Are you and Brother Lewis dating?”
Her cheeks looked exactly like a magnolia would have had I rouged one of its petals, and the tightness in my throat grew worse.
“We’re . . . friends,” she said carefully. “Even that feels strange, to be friends with a man who isn’t your father. I didn’t mean Coleman when I was talking about waking up in my life.” The color in her cheeks didn’t fade though.
“What do you mean, then? You’re going to start fiddling too?”
She smiled, the pink fading. “Very funny. No. I’m going to start by being involved with the floral design at the shop. And I want to do other things too. Go back to volunteering at the women’s shelter, for sure. I can’t believe I let that go.” She used to teach floral arrangement classes there. For the first time, I detected a glint of tears in her eyes before she blinked them away. “I don’t know. If Coleman can take up fiddling at over fifty, I bet I can find a new hobby to throw myself into too.”
I cleared my throat. “How about a wedding?”
“I’m sure I’ll get a lot of those at the shop.”
“I was thinking mine.”
“Sure, honey. That’s my dream to do, but I’ll get plenty to—” She broke off, and her eyes widened. “You’re getting married?” She grabbed my hand to check for a ring.
I tugged it away from her, laughing. “Maybe. Probably? I think yes. Max wants to take me to Maison Lacour tomorrow to talk to me about something important.”
“Oh, baby, that makes my heart so happy.” She hauled me back into her hug, laughing and rocking us back and forth. “I always had faith in that boy. I knew he’d be smart enough to hang on to you.”
“We’re hanging on to each other. I can’t imagine ever letting him go.”
She leaned back to frame my face in her hands. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Yes. He makes me so happy.”
“Then he makes me happy. What are you going to wear to dinner?”
I burst out laughing at her exact repeat of Kate’s question. “Want to help me pick?”
She hopped up off the sofa and pulled me up. “Absolutely. There’s no way I can sleep now!”
Chapter 25
“He’s here,” Mom said, peering through the curtains.
“Don’t stand there like that!” I sat on the sofa, trying to play it cool, but she’d been stuck to the window watching for him.
“I’m too excited.”
“I know, but I don’t want to weird him out with you pressing your face all up against the glass.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” she said, but she backed away to stand at the door instead, her hand on the knob, ready to fling it open the second he knocked.
“Mom . . .”
“Oh, hush.”
A moment later, the knock came, but Mom’s lips moved in a silent, slow count to ten before she opened it. “Hey there, Max. You look like a Macy’s ad,” she said, and he did. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, slim cut, with a gray-striped dress shirt and black tie.
I stood up to hug him, and he broke into a smile. “You look gorgeous.”
I’d picked a dress of deep-plum lace over a flesh-colored shell that skimmed the top of my knees. “Thank you. My mom’s right. You look great too.”
“You made a beautiful daughter, Miss Hattie.”
“You’re too sweet. Y’all will be the most beautiful couple in that restaurant tonight.”
“Thank you, Mom.” I hugged her and walked with Max out to the car.
“I have something really cool to tell you,” he said when he buckled in on his side. “I think if Kiana holds it together with this textbook business, she should be paid up by a month after the competition, and the rest is all hers. If she stays at this pace, she’s going to average $500 a month. But I think I figured out a way that she can increase that big-time without a ton more effort. I can’t wait to tell her.”
“That’s awesome. But maybe—”
“Wait, can I guess what you’re going to say?”
I fought a smile. “Go ahead.”
“Maybe instead of telling her, I can help her figure it out herself?”
“Exactly,” I said, reaching over to squeeze his leg. “You’d make a good teacher.”
“I could never do what you do. I always knew there had to be a level of skill that made some of my teachers better than others, but watching you, I see that it’s more than that. You’re talented the way concert pianists and ballerinas are talented, and there’s no way I could do it.” He reached over to thread his fingers through mine and settled our joined hands on the console between us. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Not since yesterday.”
“Boyfriend fail. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He stole a stoplight kiss. When the car started moving again, the conversation went back to Kiana. The competition was in two weeks, and her project blew my mind daily. I’d hoped she would catch a vision, but she was producing something far beyond anything I could have dreamed up. She’d gone to talk to the drama teacher, Mr. Bell, about how to build a set, and the industrial-design teacher about using his students and the school shop equipment to make what she needed. She’d gotten the home ec teacher, Mrs. Cooper, to use some of her senior students to make a costume for Madame CJ Walker that blended modern and historic styles.
The kids in my class were paying attention to the process, asking her every day for updates or more information about Madame CJ. “Do you know last Friday she told my class she wasn’t going to tell them any more about Madame CJ until she did her presentation? She said if they wanted to know before that, they’d have to look it up themselves.”
“Ha. Sounds like her.”
“Even better was how she said it. She told them, ‘I ain’t your Netflix, trying to entertain you. This is more like an HBO production, and y’all are going to have to shut up and wait.’ It was awesome.”
We were laughing when we pulled up to the restaurant, whose lights were already shining in the dusk. A hostess in a black cocktail dress greeted us and directed us to a plush bench while she checked on ou
r table.
The delicate silk wallpaper and dark wainscoting made me smile. “I haven’t been here since I was sixteen. It’s as beautiful as I remember.”
“You’ve been here before?” Stress flashed over his face. “Oh, man. This isn’t where everyone comes for prom and stuff, is it? When they’re trying to be fancy?”
I smiled. “I don’t think so. I came here with my parents as a sweet-sixteen birthday celebration dinner. I have nothing but good memories here. That’s when they gave me this,” I said, touching the pearl pendant I’d worn to match my earrings.
“Oh, good. I can live with that.”
The hostess walked up. “Thank y’all for waiting. Your table is ready.”
We talked about the decor and the dinner choices when the waiter brought our menus, but I couldn’t imagine trying to get any food down. There would be no room for it when so much extra electricity filled me, but I managed to request the night’s special, blackened redfish.
All the way through the artichoke-heart appetizers and the delicious fish, I held up my end of the conversation, but everything Max said sounded like it was coming from a distance, muted under the thrum of my adrenaline and the electricity while everything else around us sparkled with extra clarity: the glint of crystal on the other tables, the flash of light off silverware, the soft clink of forks against fine bone china.
Finally, the waiter cleared away the entrées and set a dessert menu down. I picked it up and ran my finger over the linen cardstock. “Seems like you can’t go wrong with bread pudding,” I said.
“Mmm,” Max murmured, but it wasn’t a sound of anticipation, as in “sounds delicious.” He sounded as distracted as Brady did when I tried talking to him during an LSU football game. He reached over and took the menu from me, setting it down before taking both my hands in his. “Hey.” His voice was low and husky and sent a strong current down my spine.
“Hey yourself.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
I fought to keep my nerves steady. “I’m listening.”
He propped his elbows on the table, lifting our joined hands so he could brush kisses over my knuckles. “I love you.”
Southern Charmed Page 20