by Stuart, Amie
"What was I supposed to think when came in here acting like the Marlboro Man!"
"I’m pregnant, Tara."
"Ohhh, Betti!" I could see her wheels spinning at that revelation. "Girl, don’t you know what birth control is?"
"Yes, ma’am, I sure do!" Shaking my plastic fork at her I added, "Do you know what happens when you have a sinus infection and have sex, Tara?"
"Eww, what?" She wrinkled her nose and shrank away, waiting for my answer. Guess I grossed her out.
"Antibiotics and birth control pills don’t mix."
"Well, hell, even I knew that."
That earned me a smirk, and I resisted the urge to lean over and stab her with my plastic fork. I needed her too bad. "We used a condom, too!"
"Super-sperm," she teased, shooting Cassi a conspiratorial wink.
"Find me a florist," I began, determined to take charge of the conversation. "And a cake for Monday, and I’ll let you watch me and Wrangler Ad Boy get married. Deal?"
Tara spun around in the chair and dug in a desk drawer then sat up, pen and notepad in hand, legs crossed in her best secretary pose. "What kind of flowers? What kind of cake? Do you want a groom’s cake?"
I talked between bites of food, firing off orders like a general. "Cassie, are you going to eat your eggroll?"
With a glare, Cassi finally handed over her damned eggroll. We hashed out the last of the wedding plans and in four bites the eggroll and last of the duck sauce were gone.
I had a long afternoon ahead and dinner at Ty’s house. I couldn’t help but wonder how his family was going to take the news. My God, I hope I’d made the right decision.
Chapter Eight
CROSSFIRE
Ty winced as the screen door squeaked in his hand. Despite the blustery winds, the weather was nice enough that Momma had left the front door open. Probably to help air out the new paint smell.
"Ty, that you, honey?" In the kitchen a chair scraped and he heard footsteps.
"Yeah, Momma." He hung his coat up, trying to figure out by their voices who else was in the kitchen.
"You’re late. What kept you?" She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and waited. As far as Momma was concerned, there was no particular age when she’d stop scolding you for anything.
He circled around the new living room carpet to where she stood and kissed her cheek. "I had to run an errand. Looks good in here. You and Delaney get finished?"
"Don’t try and distract me. I was worried about you." She frowned up at him, dragging him toward the kitchen by the arm. "Come on and eat before your dad and Tim wolf it all down."
He obediently let her drag him along, wincing at the sound of his boots on the newly waxed hardwood floors. Between that, the new carpet—light green to match the new couch—and the paint, the place looked almost brand new.
Telling his dad wouldn’t be near as difficult as confronting Bettina had been. If anyone would understand his need to marry Bettina and provide for his child, his father would. If anyone wouldn’t give him a ration of grief, it’d be Dad. Not after springing a full-grown daughter on the family earlier this year. But telling his mom...was anybody’s guess.
"Sit," Maggie ordered. "Do you want soup?"
As if he had a choice? "No, ma’am."
"You’re late. How’d it go?" Jerrod asked from his spot at the head of the table.
So much for hello. "Fine, just fine. I uh...had to stop somewhere on my way home." Ty took the chair to his father’s left, watching his forehead pucker with concern. How many of the wrinkles around those bright blue eyes were Ty’s fault—or for that matter, how many of the gray hairs sprinkled in with the blonde were his fault also?
"I didn’t go see her." Rhea. Her name hung unspoken over all of them. Like some evil spirit. He helped himself to two sandwiches and a glass of tea, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Jerrod exhaled deeply, relief at his son’s words obvious in the sudden droop of his shoulders.
"Thank God for that," Tim mumbled at his other side.
Ty bit back and angry reply his mother wouldn’t appreciate. Swearing was one thing, but swearing in front of Momma wasn’t acceptable.
"Tim," Delaney hissed from her spot across the table.
Tim jumped, then grunted in obvious pain while Ty smothered his laughter in his glass of tea. At his mother’s stern gaze, he set down the glass and took a bite of his roast beef sandwich.
His dad stood up with a sigh. "On that note, it’s time we got back to work. Ty we’ll be out in the west pasture when you’re done."
Tim stood, tossing his napkin on the table.
Ty looked up into his father’s eyes, suddenly reluctant to lay another burden on him. But it wasn’t like he could hide a baby. With one last deep breath he forced the words out before he turned completely chicken. "I-I’m gettin’ married."
Nobody moved but he could feel four sets of eyes on him.
"I can go." Delaney stood, glancing from him to Daddy.
"No, Dee." Ty shook his head. "You stay."
"Damnit, Tyrell," Jerrod growled, sitting heavily back down in his chair. "Son—"
"What’s this all about?" Maggie’s face had drained of all color, but she didn't yell. Her green eyes, a blueprint for his, flashed a myriad of emotions. Mostly anger and fear. The grim set of her lips had him studying his plate to escape it.
"Margaret—"
"I don’t believe this." Tim sat back down, but Ty didn’t dare look at him. Not yet. They’d settle up later.
"Who?" Delaney asked.
"Bettina Blanchard. I don’t think you know her." A knot of tension coiled itself in his stomach. He took a deep breath. Mom had changed, for the better, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t raise holy hell.
"Oh, thank you God." Momma pressed her hands to her mouth, relief filling her voice and color returning to her face.
"I absolutely don’t believe this!" Tim sat back in his chair with a low growl.
"We heard you the first time," Jerrod said.
Ty glanced up at his father, wondering why he hadn’t said more. The grim set of his mouth said it all. Daddy was pissed.
"Why Betti?" Tim demanded.
"Why not!" Ty shouted at the top of his lungs, finally looking at his brother. "And what business is it of yours?"
"That’s enough!" Jerrod roared.
Ty slowly exhaled, then apologized to his mother for yelling at the table.
"I can’t say I’m thrilled, because I’m not! But thank God it’s not her." Maggie sighed with relief, her mouth set in a grim line. "Though honestly, I’m not sure Betti’s any better. She was always a wild one. I know the last few months have been hard on you. Are you sure—"
"She’s pregnant and it’s mine." Ty nodded, and a lock of hair fell across his forehead. He brushed it back out of the way and clasped his hands together on the table in front of him. Tim snorted, a dry harsh chuckle. His brother and best friend maybe, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t catch a ration of shit about this.
"My God," Delaney said softly.
"Damnit—" Jerrod fumed.
"Betti ain’t no dummy. How the...how? How, Ty?" Tim demanded, arms crossed. "How could you be such a dumb...how could you be so stupid?"
Ty frowned, confused over whether Tim was mad at him or Bettina.
"That’ll be enough out of you, Timothy Patrick!" Momma stood, shoving her chair in so hard tea sloshed out of Ty’s glass. "Jesus Christ, Tyrell! What were you thinking? Never mind! I can only imagine!" She snatched up hers and Daddy’s plates and stalked to the sink where she threw them in with a clatter he felt in his teeth.
"I just meant Betti’s not the kind to make that sort of mistake," Tim insisted.
"It’s not a mistake," Ty ground out, his eyes on his mother who stood over a sink with the water running. It was Daddy’s turn to handle things.
"Accidents happen, son. You should know that better than anyone," Jerrod said. Tim’s face reddened beneath h
is deep tan at the reminder of his own youthful indiscretion. He’d become a father at seventeen—thanks in part to a faulty condom.
"And I suppose," Jerrod continued, "since she’s normally such a smart young lady, as Tim says, we can safely assume this wasn’t deliberate?"
He’d never even considered the possibility.
"We used a condom," Ty sputtered, already tired of defending himself. Too bad Momma picked that particular moment to shut the water off.
"Is she anything like her mother?" Arms crossed, Maggie now leaned against the counter.
"I...I don’t know. I don’t know much about her mother."
"Polly Blanchard was a drunk, pure and simple. Her husband walked out when the youngest was a toddler and never looked back. And like I said, Betti always was a wild one. You very well could end up in a bigger mess than you just got out of!"
"I don’t think Bettina’s a drunk," he said, feeling a twinge of concern. Rhea’s mom had been a drunk too. Momma’s scowl deepened and Ty rushed on before she started yelling again, "I want to do the right thing. It’s my baby and my responsibility. And...and...and I know everything will be just fine." For a minute he wondered who he was trying to reassure the most—himself or his mother. Even to his own ears it sounded lame, so he knew no one else believed him.
"Ty, you old Billy goat," Delaney teased with a huge smile.
He rubbed his forehead, snorting with laughter at his sister’s outrageous sense of humor. Eternally optimistic and a peacemaker, she had a way of diffusing situations that was unparalleled. Ty had always thought she must have gotten it from her mother, Bridgett, because heaven knows, it didn’t seem to be a Boudreaux trait.
"Delaney Marie," Maggie scolded. With a sigh she sat back down, resting her elbows on the table.
"Sorry, Maggie." She shrugged, her grin not at all apologetic.
Ty would have kissed her if he could have reached her. While his dad chuckled, Tim didn’t move.
"No you’re not, you little scamp." Momma’s laugh ended on watery sob.
Great, he’d made his mom cry.
"Ty," Maggie said once she’d gotten hold of herself, "you don’t have to do this. But you’re grown, and I have no right to say a word—as much as I’d like to say lots more than I already have. I hope you’ve thought long and hard about this because for the record, I don’t think you’re ready but...you’re an adult. Now, when is the wedding?"
"Not so fast." Jerrod sat back in his chair, his face once again grim. "Are you sure this is what you want, son? I know I raised you to not shirk your duty, but you’ve been through a lot. Maybe, postponing—"
"No! I’m positive. Bettina’s coming over for dinner so we can talk...make wedding plans. I have to find a judge and a place to get married."
"Gonna make her your famous macaroni and cheese?" Tim snickered. Ty desperately wanted to wipe the smirk off his brother’s face, but he’d caused enough of a ruckus at Momma’s table. That didn’t stop him from laughing when Tim grunted. Or from wondering what type of footwear Delaney was wearing.
"Does your suit still fit?" Maggie ignored Delaney’s under-the-table shenanigans and plowed ahead. He girded himself for his mother’s grilling, wishing he could remember the few wedding details they’d discussed. He’d been too nervous though.
"My suit’s brand new." And the same suit he’d gotten divorced in. "Maybe I should get a new tie or somethin’."
"I could go with you," Delaney offered. "Unless of course, you’d like to, Tim."
Ty nodded, not even holding back a laugh this time.
"Why don’t you two get that taken care of and anything else. Don’t worry about chores. Today’s obviously a wash, anyway." Jerrod stood up with an faint smile and a nod.
Ty stood up, too, plate of uneaten lunch in hand. "Let’s go. I have to go by the grocery store, too."
"Uhh—Ty, just invite her here. That way we can chat." Momma’s suddenly too-calm tone implied more than just a ‘chat’.
"She doesn’t get off until late. That’s why I was gonna cook something."
"We always have plenty—"
"Maybe they need to talk alone," Jerrod interrupted.
"Maybe they can do that later. Bring her by." Maggie nodded, eyebrows raised.
* * *
"I can’t believe it’s this hard to find a shirt and tie." Ty leaned back in the hardwood chair, sipping the iced coffee Delaney had talked him into trying. They’d spent two hours searching every major and a few minor department stores. All he wanted was a damn tie and maybe a new shirt. "This isn’t bad. Don’t these people have anything better to do in the middle of the afternoon?" He waved a hand at the half-dozen or so other afternoon coffee shop patrons.
"Not everyone gets up at the crack of dawn to chase cows for a living." Delaney grinned, then pointed out the window. "Hey, look."
Tucked back in a corner of the shopping center sat a men’s shop where they hit paydirt. Delaney was completely in her element.
"I like this green one." She held a dark green shirt under his chin. "It complements your eyes. What color’s your suit again?"
"It complements my what? It’s navy blue. Why?" He now remembered why he hated shopping.
She rolled her eyes and gave him her most dramatic sigh. "Your eyes, silly! You could wear this seafoam green one—" she held up another shirt "—with this, for the wedding—" and put a green and blue diagonal stripe tie with it.
"Okay." His mind had gone numb.
"And this—" she held up a turquoise-blue shirt, "—matches the tie, too."
"What about white?" Ty teased.
"Ty!" She threw the shirt and tie on the table in front of her and crossed her arms, lips pursed.
With a sigh to rival her earlier one, he mimicked her pose, leaning against the table full of shirts. "Just pick some, Dee. I don’t care."
"Aren’t you the least bit excited about getting married?"
"Yeah, I’m just tired. I’m really excited about being a dad and Bettina’s a sweet woman. But after Rhea..."
"I guess it was pretty bad, huh?" Delaney’s deep blue eyes took on a puppy dog’ish look. She knew nothing about Rhea who’d left him just before Delaney had come to live with Mom and Dad.
"Yeah." Ty left it at that. There were some things he couldn’t share with anyone.
"What else do we need to do?" Delaney asked once they were back in Ty’s truck.
"Head home. It’s—Ah, shit!" Ty swore, hitting the steering wheel with a fist.
"What?"
"Rings." He pointed at a nearby jewelry store. "Bettina doesn’t even have an engagement ring."
"Well, let’s go!" Delaney reached for the door handle.
"I don’t know her ring size." He rolled the window down a couple inches and blew out a knot of tension. Pockets of nervous sweat formed under his arms. He fumbled with the cell phone he still hadn’t returned and finally found the right number to redial.
"Blue Moon!"
"Tara?" Ty asked. "Is Bettina busy?"
"She’s with a client. May I take a message?" Tara’s cool tone suggested there was no way he’d get past her again, via phone or otherwise. Even if he was marrying her co-worker.
"I need her ring size. Can you find out?" As excited as Bettina was about the baby, the least he could do was try to find her a ring.
"Aw, aren’t you sweet! It’s a seven."
"Are you sure?" He killed the engine, pocketing the keys.
"Positive. I helped her pick out a ring for her sister last Christmas. They wear the same size...I promise."
Almost an hour later he walked out of the jewelers, an antique two-karat solitaire and two white gold bands in his pocket. He hoped she wouldn’t be upset at his choice of white, since he’d just wiped out his entire savings account.
"Are you sure she’s gonna like that, Ty? You didn’t spend a lot of time looking."
"Yes, now would you get in, so we can head home?" He wasn’t a hundred percent sure but it just look
ed like something she’d wear. The only jewelry she wore was silver—a charm bracelet and a necklace with rhinestone scissors.
* * *
They barely made it home in time for dinner.
"Did you get all your shopping done?" Maggie asked once everyone was served.
"Yes, ma’am." Ty buttered a roll, hoping she’d let him eat in peace because he was starving.
"Ty even got Betti a ring," Delaney offered, winking at him from her side of the table.
He glared at her, wishing he’d eaten at home.
"Who’s Betti?" asked Rene, his twelve-year-old niece. She snatched up a roll from the basket Delaney held out, then stopped and stared at Ty.
Tim grimly stared at his daughter. "Betti Blanchard. Her and your Uncle Ty are getting married on Monday."
"Dang, Uncle Ty. What’d you do? Knock her up?" Rene continued buttering her roll, as if she’d said nothing wrong.
Around her everyone grew quiet.
Ty went slack jawed, unable to speak. With Rene you never knew what might come flying out of her mouth. She’d improved over the summer but not much.
"Rene Lynette Caldwell, excuse yourself!" Jerrod glared at her from the head of the table. He didn’t tolerate bullshit at his dinner table. Not even from his only granddaughter, one of the few people who could actually make him yell.
"But I’m not done eating," she protested.
"Do as your grandfather says, young lady," her father ordered. "And while you’re at it, take yourself across the road and get busy on that homework."
She huffed and she puffed. She even whined a little, but finally stomped out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
"Sorry, Ty," Tim muttered with a sigh of frustration.
"It’s not your fault," Ty said softly. Not even Rene’s mouth could make him skip Momma’s meatloaf. Especially after getting only a bite of lunch. But he was stressed and wanted time to get his head on straight before Bettina showed up.
"Yeah it is." Tim shook his head. "I should’ve reined her in ages ago."
"Don’t sweat it." Ty forked the last of his mashed yams only to get caught by Momma who was like a dog with a bone about the wedding.