by Rebeca Seitz
Daddy just nodded, his eyes glistening a bit. “I’m not too sure this is what Zelda is after.”
Kendra propped a hand on her hip. “Daddy, if Momma had gone running off to Florida before you two got married, what would you have done?”
Daddy’s answer came quicker than a frog’s tongue on a housefly. “Your momma wouldn’t have run off. She’d have stayed to fight it out.”
“Then I say either you realize Zelda isn’t Momma and make your peace with that or let her go and see if you can’t find Momma again in some other woman.” Kendra leaned in close and whispered, “Though we Christians have a thing about reincarnation—it doesn’t happen. So I’d say your odds of finding Momma again are slim to none.” She leaned back and adopted her normal tone again. “So, let’s try that again. If Momma had run off to Florida, what would you have done?”
“I’d have gone down there and brought her home.”
“Mm-hmm. Sounds about right. Tandy, go over there and find Daddy a ticket. Make sure he doesn’t spend all of our inheritance on this silly woman who can’t make this a simple process.”
“Yeah, horrible woman.” Meg rolled her eyes and resumed her position at the table. “Wanting romance and grand gestures and all. What in the world is she thinking?”
“I’ll grant you that, Meg.” Kendra shoved her hair back from her face. “I was kidding.”
“So long as y’all are handing out the advice and opinions, how about you tell me what you thought of the ring?”
“Ring? What ring?” Tandy kept her wide and innocent eyes focused on the computer screen.
Repressed laughter hummed in Daddy’s tone. “The ring I bought for Zelda.”
Tandy turned to face him at that admission, but kept her eyes wide. “You bought Zelda a ring?”
“I did, and you know it.”
Tandy tossed a glance at Kendra. “How on earth would we know such a thing?”
“Because you make a better lawyer than you do a thief, honey girl. The box wasn’t right where I had put it. Either one very kind burglar came through here, or my daughters thought they had a right to go through my things.”
Kendra had the grace to look down at that. “We were just making sure of your safety, Daddy. Like with Tyrel back in high school?”
Daddy held up a gnarled finger. “One difference, Kendra, and it’s a doozy. God didn’t appoint you my parent to watch over me.”
Kendra focused on the layout before her. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”
“Me too,” Tandy mumbled.
Daddy waited a beat, then said, “Meg? Joy?”
“We didn’t have any part of that, Daddy.” Meg couldn’t sound more relieved if she tried. “They told us about it afterwards.”
“Which isn’t to say you wouldn’t have joined in if you’d been with them.”
Meg looked at Joy, who shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
Daddy looped his thumbs in his pockets. “I’ll keep that in mind then.”
Meg rubbed her temple and let the photo in her hand fall back to the table.
“Your head hurting you again?” Daddy peered at her.
“Not much. I’m tired, is all. I should probably be heading back home pretty soon.”
“How about I drive you? Wouldn’t want you wrecking that van because your head was hurting.”
“I’m fine to drive, Daddy. It’s only a headache. It’ll go away as soon as I lie down and close my eyes.”
Joy poked a hole into the paper tag she held. “You know, you really should go see Dr. Brown, Meg. If you’re experiencing migraines that frequently, there might be some change you can make to lessen their impact.”
“I don’t think they’re migraines, exactly.” Meg rubbed a bit more, then began packing up her supplies. “I can function with this. You can’t function with a migraine, right?”
Kendra dabbed ink on a page. “Maybe there are different levels of migraines. I’m not sure. But I’m with Joy, you should see Dr. Brown and make sure you’re okay.”
“We can’t have you keeling over or anything,” Tandy piped up from her place at the computer desk.
“Gee, thanks, sis.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Hey, before I go, Ken, what’s the latest on the wedding? Do you need help with any plans yet?”
“I made some choices while T and I were at the beach in Florida. Don’t worry, we can talk it all over later when your head is done pounding.”
Meg smiled her thanks and scooped a tote bag onto her shoulder. “Sounds good. See y’all later. Daddy, you let me know when you leave for Florida, and I’ll come by and check on the house.”
“Will do. You be careful, little girl.”
Eighteen
I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. Dr. Murray says that men who suffer from oligospermia still have a chance— albeit small—of getting their partners pregnant naturally.
I don’t like the use of this word partner rather than wife. When did society become so focused on each person doing his or her thing that we forgot we’re here for each other? What is this obsessive need to reject commitment?
I do not have time for such rabbit trails, though. I intend to focus all of my mental energy on becoming pregnant, on creating a child. I read a book last week that said I could almost think myself into pregnancy.
As Kendra would say, Yeah, right.
But there is something to be said for the power of positive thinking. And if a few thoughts a day will make my ovaries more amenable to housing a child, then so be it.
Scott will be home any minute now. I took my temperature, just like Dr. Goodman told me, and it’s up a degree and a half. That means I’m ovulating, and that means we could get pregnant tonight!
But I won’t tell Scott this bit of information. No need to place more pressure on the man. I’m so proud of how he is handling his diagnosis. I wondered if he might lash out in anger or be embarrassed, but Dr. Murray put him at ease.
Thank the Lord for Dr. Murray.
And Frederick’s of Hollywood.
I looked at Victoria’s Secret, but too much of their stuff doesn’t leave much … well, secret anymore. Plus I’m about a decade older than their obvious intended market.
But Frederick’s came through. This red lace and I are going to do our dead-level best to make a baby tonight. I don’t know why I think this time will work when it hasn’t worked for over a year now. For the first time in many months though, I feel hope. We have a name for the problem we face. And Dr. Murray says if this doesn’t work, there’s always IVF. We’ll try IVF next month if we don’t see that extra pink line two weeks from now.
It’s odd to have these thoughts in my mind. They are so unlike me—thoughts of conception and lacy garments and the like. But when life throws a new experience, sometimes we’re forced to learn a new lexicon, I suppose.
Daddy and Momma never shied away from topics like these. If Momma were alive, she would have had me at Dr. Goodman’s for a frank conversation ages ago. She didn’t mind the harsh realities of life and thought the ladylike thing was always to tackle them head on.
I loved that about Momma.
And now Daddy seemed to be following her lead since Tandy got him a ticket down to Florida. Time to tackle that problem head on!
Focus, Joy. Forget Daddy. Forget Zelda. Let everything else pause for this one night and focus on Scott.
Not just because you love him, though you do with all your heart.
Not just because he’s wonderful to look at, though he’d give McDreamy a run for his money any day.
Not just because he’s your husband, though he makes a terrific one.
But because if you focus on him, the two of you might have something else to focus on in nine months.
I hear his footsteps on the staircase now.
Lord, please don’t let him be tired from a long day at the office. Please let him have had a good day that he wants to sit and tell me about.
And please bless what we
’re about to do.
* * *
TWO WEEKS LATER Tandy and Clay and Darin and Kendra walked through the door of Joe’s Jazz Place on a Thursday night. They settled in what had become “their” booth these past few months.
“I love that we have a booth.” Tandy slid across the bench seat. “I feel like one of those people in a book or movie.”
Kendra picked a piece of lint from the long, black velvet sleeve of her dress. “I know! Me too. And I love having an excuse to get dressed up every now and then.”
“Yeah, that’s not exactly something we can do at Heartland.”
Darin threw his arm across the back of their booth. “Speaking of which, are we going tomorrow night?”
Kendra arched an eyebrow. “Better question—are Daddy and Zelda?”
“Yeah, when are they planning on coming back?” Clay pulled Tandy closer to his side.
Tandy shook her head. “He still isn’t sure if she is coming back. I talked to him last night and he said he’s making progress, whatever that means.”
“Did he take the ring with him?”
“Yeah. If he’s proposed though, I’d think they’d be back here already, not just making progress.”
The opening notes of Harry Connick Jr.’s “I’ve Got a Great Idea” floated from the piano, and Darin stood. “If we’re going to spend the evening talking about Jack and Zelda, let’s at least start it off with some dancing.” He held a hand out, and Kendra placed hers in it.
“I think that’d be a wonderful start to the evening.”
Clay stood as well and affected a mock stance of seriousness—shoulders up, back ramrod straight. “I concur. M’lady, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
“That is the worst British accent I have ever heard.” Tandy laughed and took his hand.
“You expected better? I’m just a diner owner.”
Tandy leaned in close as they walked across the dance floor. “You are so much more than that, sweetie.”
Clay gave that lopsided smile that made her heart melt and put his arm around her back. “I love you, Mrs. Kelner.”
“That’s good. Works out well with my plans.”
“You’ve got plans?”
“Oh, yeah.” She swayed to the music and laid her head on his shoulder.
But Clay was having none of it. He bumped his shoulder so that she raised her face to him. “Yes?”
“We were talking about plans? Something I should know about here?”
She laid her head back down on his shoulder, keeping her smile a secret. “You’re on a need-to-know basis, mister.”
“I thought I did away with need-to-know when I left the marines.”
“Wasn’t it you who told me ‘Once a marine, always a marine’?”
“I refuse to answer on the grounds—”
“Yeah, yeah. Just dance.”
All too soon Joe played the final notes. Tandy sighed her contentment sound and walked back to the table with Clay, joining Kendra and Darin there.
“I love Harry Connick Jr.”
“Hey, watch it, lady.”
“Oh, I love you too, you goofball.” Kendra gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I just love Harry in a whole different way. Oh, and Al Green.”
“So I’ve got two competitors?”
“Sounds like it.”
They settled back into the booth, and Darin leaned across the table to Clay. “Remind me to write enough songs for an entire jazz CD and somehow engineer it to have five that will become part of the fabric of the entire jazz movement.”
“Five?”
“I figure I’ll never get to Al’s level, but five might put me somewhere in his same stratosphere.”
“Good plan, my man.”
Tandy rolled her eyes, then looked around the room. “I wonder where Cassandra is tonight? I’m getting parched here.”
“I’ll go ask Joe.” Clay left the booth and made his way back around the dance floor to where Joe still danced his fingers across the keys of the baby grand piano.
“Hey, Joe, where’s Cassandra tonight? I didn’t see her when we came in.”
Joe grimaced. “She’s got the flu. Left her shivering under a pile of covers with a box of Kleenex and the remote control for company.”
“Man, that sounds awful.”
Joe nodded. “It is. Only hope I don’t get it too.”
“Do you guys need some help tonight?”
“Jessica’s picking up the slack.”
“Jessica? Who’s Jessica?”
Joe pointed his chin toward Clay’s table. “That’s her talking to your gang right now.”
Clay turned and saw a woman who was 5'10" if she was an inch. Long jet-black hair hung straighter than the crease on his old dress blues down her back, all the way to her waist, which appeared to be smaller than the width of her hair. Shiny red heels that could double as weapons in a dangerous dark alley dove into the ground on which she stood. As Clay watched, she threw back her head and laughed at whatever Darin had just said.
Kendra didn’t look too pleased.
“What’s her story?”
“Came up this way from Atlanta about three days ago.” Joe continued to play flawlessly while he related what he knew of Jessica. “Somebody downtown told her about me opening this club a few years ago, and she decided to come see for herself. You should have seen Cassandra when she opened the door and saw her standing there.”
“Not a great first impression?”
“She was nice enough, but Cassie had that look in her eye like a new lioness was trying to enter the pride.”
“Sort of like Kendra looks right now?”
Joe squinted at their table. “Yeah, about like that.”
“Does she have a reason to worry?”
“Don’t know.” Joe embellished the song a bit, then went back to its standard version. “Still working out why she’s here in the first place.”
“Maybe she came to learn from the jazz master.”
“She should head to New Orleans or Memphis then.”
Clay patted Joe’s shoulder lightly, so as not to affect his playing. “You sell yourself short, my friend.” He loped back across the dance floor and arrived at the table in time to hear a voice that had one too many packs of cigarettes saying, “… came on up and Joe needed me, so here I am.”
“Joe needed you?” Kendra’s voice didn’t leave her opinion in the realm of secrecy.
“Tonight. Cassandra is sick.”
“Joe tells me it’s the flu.” Clay slid back into his spot by Tandy.
Jessica nodded and her hair swayed out from the sides of her back. “Yeah. She looks awful.”
Clay tried to picture the statuesque Cassandra looking anywhere near awful and failed. Either Jessica was an idiot or after more than Joe’s jazz knowledge.
“So, can I get you guys something to eat or drink? Joe told me to take good care of you.” Jessica turned to smile in Joe’s general direction, but her effort was lost as Joe stayed engrossed in the keys before him.
They placed their orders and watched as Jessica walked away.
“Can anyone say ‘she-devil’?” Kendra pursed her lips. “Somebody better warn Cassandra.”
“Cass is on to her already,” Clay advised. “I doubt anybody needs to worry about how this will end up.”
“Unless one of us cares about Jessica’s hopes and dreams being quashed like a bug.”
They looked at each other, but no one spoke.
“Well, all right then.”
“Hey, forget her.” Darin crossed his arms onto the table and leaned forward. “I think we need to focus on me for a second.” His grin belied the joke behind his words.
“Why would we focus on you?” Clay gathered Tandy’s hand into his own. “You know how I hate boring conversation.”
“Ha ha. This is anything but boring. Unless a certain best man hasn’t started planning my bachelor party yet?”
“Bachelor party?”
&n
bsp; Clay almost heard Kendra’s claws coming out.
Darin turned his head back to Kendra. “Yeah, bachelor party. Long-time tradition? Man goes out and has a grand old time with his buddies before he gets shackled to a woman who wants him home every night for the rest of his life? Ring a bell?”
“I’m gonna ring your bell.” Kendra stuffed a curl behind her ear, which set her huge bangle earring to swinging. “You must not know who you’re marrying if you think I want you home every night by my side. How am I going to get any painting done? Or sculpting? Or writing? You think I’m going to stop all that just because I’m marrying you?”
“Well, no.”
Clay couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s backpedaling—and idiocy. He’d have made the same mistake just a few month’s ago.
“But when you become Mrs. Darin Spenser—”
“Mrs. Spenser? Who said I was taking your name?”
“You’re not?”
Clay leaned in to Tandy’s ear. “I’m so glad we’re through this part.”
Tandy’s copper curls tickled his nose when she nodded. “Yeah, now hush. Nothing on TV is this good.”
Kendra ranted on about women’s rights and being kept under a man’s thumb and all the while Clay sat right beside Tandy, enjoying the warmth of her arm against his and sending up prayers of thanks that they’d made it through the wedding in one piece.
* * *
I CANNOT BELIEVE it. I simply cannot believe it. I wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me? The mind can do that, you know. Thoughts are very powerful and—oh, I’ve told you about that book I read.
But I’ve blinked at least a hundred times and it hasn’t vanished. It’s shaking. I’m fairly certain that’s my hand. Though how could I be still right now?
We’ve done it. Two pink lines.
Two!
No longer that single, solitary one, sitting by itself, waiting on its mate.
Two lines!
We’re pregnant!
How should I tell Scott? I can’t run into the bedroom screaming like a madwoman. He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.
Besides, he went into the office early this morning. He wanted to finish his work so that we could enjoy the weekend together.
The weekend! Weekends were made for shopping, and I am going to shop at every baby store from here to Nashville and back. A baby. Finally!