An eternity seemed to pass before Joy appeared in the doorway. Because if she wasn’t nervous enough, now she had to worry about how her sullen child was going to act in front of Blue’s parents. As Joy dragged her feet toward the front door, Brioney put her hands on her daughter’s shoulder and said words she never thought she would say. “You will be on your best behavior tonight.”
“Yes, Mom. Hello, Blue.”
“Hey, Joy. You look very pretty tonight, too.”
“Mom said we had to dress up.”
“My parents aren’t really dressy people, but I’m sure they’ll appreciate the gesture.” He motioned for the two of them to precede him from the house.
She held out the keys to him. “You can drive.”
He looked from the keys to Brioney, then lifted a shoulder and took them. He held the door for her, then for Joy.
“Enjoying your holiday so far?” he asked Joy as they drove, looking in the rearview mirror.
“Mom’s had to work and all Brandon wants to do is play video games, so no.”
“I wish I’d known. I could have brought you down to the beach.”
“It’s too cold for the beach.”
“It’s supposed to be warmer tomorrow. I can come get you if you want.”
“Jess is coming in tomorrow, so Mom is off.” At a look from Brioney, she added, “But thank you.”
“Jess is coming tomorrow.” Blue said the words to Brioney.
“Yes, and after a family dinner, Mercy and I are taking her to Rockport for a girls’ night.”
“Why Rockport?”
Brioney lifted a shoulder. “Mercy’s choice.”
“You’re going to spend the night there, I hope?”
“I’m the designated driver. Got to get back to make Thanksgiving dinner.”
He captured her hand on the seat and lifted it to his lips, then turned down the road to his parents’ house.
“Welcome, welcome!” His mother hurried down off the porch, arms spread, long blond hair floating behind her. “Whose car?”
“Brioney’s,” Blue replied, circling the car to open the door for Brioney, though she already had it half-opened. “Brioney, Joy, this is my mother, Patricia.”
Before Brioney could say anything, Patricia wrapped her in her arms for a fierce hug before turning to Joy and hugging her as well.
“I’m so happy to have you here. I’ve heard so much about the two of you, and I look forward to getting to know you. Come in, come in to the kitchen. It’s nice and warm in there.”
As Patricia turned to lead them into the house, Blue put his hand on the small of Brioney’s back to guide her inside. Brioney noticed that beneath Patricia’s woven skirt and wrap, she was barefoot. They walked behind her to the kitchen, where platters of vegetables and dips were set out on the island, and on the counters surrounding were bowls and spoons and dishes that were the sign of a frantic cook. But the smells coming from the stove and oven were mouth-watering.
“What did you finally decide on?” Blue asked, taking a seat on one of the stools and plucking a carrot from a tray.
“I thought a beef stew and homemade bread would be good, given the cooler weather.”
“That’s a lot of dishes for stew.”
“Well, we have some company, you know, and like I told you, I couldn’t decide what to make, so I, well, at least we’ll have dinner for a few nights.”
Brioney sat on the stool beside Blue and looked from him to his mother. “So you couldn’t decide what to make, so you made different things?”
Patricia lifted a shoulder. “It was the only way to be sure. I promise you’ll like it.” She smiled brightly at Joy. “It’s nice to have a young one at the table again. Are you excited for Thanksgiving?”
“Kind of. My aunt is coming tomorrow.”
“Your aunt.” Patricia glanced at Blue. “She spent a lot of time here when she was young. I guess you’ll be glad to see her.”
“I will.” Joy shifted and folded her arms on the island. “I’ve been wanting to ask, why did you name Blue that?”
“Why did I name him Blue?” Patricia smiled. “Oh, you know. I get that question a lot.”
“And she tells everyone a different story,” Blue said.
“Do you know the real one?” Brioney asked.
He popped a mushroom into his mouth. “I do.”
“What is it?” Joy asked, impatient.
“Ah. Well. You see his beautiful eyes.”
“Mom said all babies are born with blue eyes.”
“That is true. But when Blue was born, his heart wasn’t working right, and not only did he have blue eyes, but blue skin as well.”
“Not like, Avatar blue,” he was quick to chime in. “Just my lips and nails.”
“And your whole body had a bluish cast,” Patricia said before turning back to Joy. “His blood wasn’t getting the oxygen it should, so he was tinged blue, and I got to hold him for only a minute before they took him away. He had to have surgery before I could bring him home, and had two more before he could walk. I named him Blue because I never wanted to forget that I almost lost him before I ever had him.”
Brioney touched his arm. He smiled at her.
“Hey, I don’t remember any of it. The surgeries worked, and I’ve always been able to do whatever I want to do.”
His father walked in then, with two older couples. Blue slid off the stool and greeted his father with a back slap.
“Dad, Joy and Brioney.”
Brioney hopped down, too, and held out her hand. Blue’s father was taller even than Blue, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. She thought Blue looked like his mother, until now. Nope, he had his dad’s warmth and smile and easy manner. This would be Blue in twenty years. Would she still be in his life to see the change? A tremor she couldn’t identify went through her at the thought.
Her daughter copied her movement, then stepped back to stand beside her as Roy Ramsey made his own introductions.
“These are our old friends, Melissa and Vince, and Dot and Mike. They’ve come to spend Thanksgiving with us. Everyone, this is Blue’s girl and her daughter.”
The description had her blushing, and she stepped back near Blue to let the older couples at the veggie trays.
She was grateful for the other couples because they took the focus off of her and Joy, though the two of them were recruited to help carry food to the long farm table in the dining room, which had already been set with woven placemats and colorful dishes.
“This is your work?” Brioney asked Patricia, fingering the table runner in muted fall colors.
“Yes, one of my favorite designs, actually.”
“Can you show us your workroom after dinner?”
Patricia beamed. “I’d love to.”
Everyone sat and served themselves, and Patricia called for a prayer, so everyone joined hands and bowed their heads. Blue’s hand in hers gave her courage for the meal.
“So tell us what kind of things you’re learning in school,” Patricia addressed Joy.
“Well, most of fourth grade is writing, because of the test, so we’re focusing on that, but also long division.”
“Isn’t Texas history fourth grade?”
“It is, but we don’t do much social studies. The teacher said after the test.”
“That’s a shame. Texas history is so rich. And what do you do for fun? When you’re not in school?”
“I like to read. And play my recorder.”
Roy’s face lit up at that. “I have a recorder! We should do a duet.”
Brioney grimaced, praying that Joy hadn’t brought hers.
“Okay! I only know Christmas songs, though.”
That was the most enthusiasm Brioney had heard from Joy since Cameron brought her home.
“And your mother sings and plays guitar, Blue says. What a talented family.”
“We like music,” Brioney said lamely.
“Speaking of unusual names,” P
atricia said. “What’s the story behind yours, Brioney?”
She hadn’t answered that question in a long time, and hesitated, because, well, she didn’t talk about her mother. So she kept it as impersonal as possible. “Oh. Well, my mother was a big Angliophile, and loved Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice. My oldest brother is named Fitzwilliam after Mr. Darcy, and my youngest for Colonel Brandon. But for Jess and I, well, I guess the names were too plain, so she searched farther afield and picked Jessamy and Brioney.” Her mother’s obsession with England had stolen her from the family. At least that’s what they suspected, that she’d run away to the country she loved, wiping out the family savings and so much more with her decision.
“They’re lovely names. I love the story.” Patricia smiled at Joy. “I bet I can guess the reason for your name.”
Brioney hugged her daughter, who stiffened. “You’d be right. Most of the time.”
*****
After dinner, Patricia took Brioney and Joy into her workroom, which looked out on the ocean. Tonight it was too dark to see, but Brioney could imagine the view of the beach the wall of windows revealed in the daylight.
The room included a spinning wheel, which drew Joy right away, baskets of yarn, a loom that took up a third of the room, and shelves and shelves of textiles.
Brioney touched a pile hesitantly, not wanting to mess anything up. “You’ve made all of these?”
Patricia nodded. “I get lost in the zone sometimes, and just spend the whole day weaving. I feel it at night.” She pressed a hand to her lower back and smiled. “Some are custom-made, where people tell me the colors they want, and I weave it in the design that feels right.”
Joy walked over to the wall where some articles featuring Patricia were framed. “Wow, you were in magazines?”
“And on one of those Texas magazine shows,” Blue said from the doorway. “I don’t think she’d hang those, except my dad was so proud and got them framed for her.”
“Can you show us a little of what you do?” Brioney asked.
Patricia crossed to the spinning wheel first. She picked up a wad of wool and stretched it, twisting it, showing them how the fibers hung together. Then she wound it onto a piece of thread, sat in her chair, and began treadling the pedal, drawing on the fibers as it twisted between her fingers. She added more wool to make the thread longer, and the spindle began to fill.
“You want to try it?” Patricia asked Joy, stopping the treadle.
“Can I? I won’t ruin it?”
“We can fix anything in art.” She rose from the chair, holding onto the thread. Joy took her seat and gingerly took the thread from her fingers. “Don’t pull too hard, but keep a firm grip. When you feel like you’re running out of thread, we’ll add more wool.”
Joy treadled cautiously, and the thread snapped, but Patricia stepped in and showed her how to repair it before she got frustrated. Brioney stepped closer to watch, and Patricia gave her a quick smile before turning back to Joy.
Her daughter had a determination to get it right that Brioney didn’t recognize. On one hand, she was embarrassed by Joy’s insistence that she stay until she was successful, and on the other hand, she was proud.
“Joy, Patricia has other guests. We can’t stay in here all evening.” But it was so nice to see her daughter happy, enjoying something.
Joy slid from the seat, her head bent reluctantly.
“You can come back any time you want, and we can stay at this as long as you’d like.”
Joy glanced at her mother, who shrugged her approval. “If you want.”
“What if my mother and Blue break up?”
This time Patricia’s glance in Brioney’s direction was more alarmed. “Even if your mother and Blue break up.”
The three women walked toward the closed-in porch, where the other guests waited with Roy and Blue. Brioney crossed to Blue and let his proximity ease the nerves that bubbled to the surface with Joy’s question. He stroked a hand down her arm, as if he knew just what she was asking for, and he smiled at Joy.
“Did you learn how to get it going?”
Joy frowned, but this time, the frown wasn’t directed at him. “It was a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“Takes lots of practice and patience. I never could sit still long enough.”
“That is true,” Patricia affirmed, picking up a glass of wine as she sat on the arm of the couch beside his father. “Brioney, would you like some wine? Joy, there’s grape juice there.” She gestured with her glass at a wine glass with dark purple liquid in it.
Joy swooped it up, delighted at the grown-up glass. Brioney might lose her daughter to Blue’s mother, if she wasn’t careful.
“Brioney? It’s good wine.”
She wasn’t much of a wine drinker, so took Blue’s glass from him and took a sip. The red wine was very rich and heavy, and suddenly she could think of nothing but what it would taste like on Blue’s lips. The thought, in this room full of people she didn’t know, and her daughter, made her blush, which made Blue grin.
“Would you like a glass?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
“I’ll just share yours.” She took another sip and passed it back to him, the taste growing on her.
“Let’s play charades,” his mother announced, hopping up from her seat.
*****
“Is it always like that?” Brioney asked as Blue drove them home.
“It was a little more festive, since their friends were there, and Mom wanted to make it special for the two of you, but yeah, it’s pretty close to that all the time.”
“I can’t imagine living in a home like that,” she said with a sigh.
“What are you talking about?” He glanced in the rearview mirror, to where Joy slept in the back seat. “You’re creating a home like that.”
“What are you talking about? My house is tiny, and I don’t know how to entertain, and I certainly don’t know anything about wine, and I’d never played charades before tonight.”
“My mom learned all those things, and don’t you remember the party you had for Fitz when he came home? It’s not about the entertaining or the size of your house. It’s the love that’s there.” He covered her hand with his. “Don’t you understand that’s what makes you so special?”
“What was I going to do? I had a baby, and a baby brother. Just because my mom walked out didn’t mean they didn’t need a home.”
“You went way beyond just giving them a home, Bri. I admire the hell out of you for what you did. You say Fitz made the sacrifice, but so did you.”
She shook her head. “All I did was make it harder for Fitz.”
“And then took over making a living for your family. Stop selling yourself short.”
“I don’t. I just did what I needed to do.”
He shook his head. “You could have made so many different choices, but you didn’t.”
She choked out a laugh, remembering how she’d agonized over the very decisions he was talking about, how she thought about giving up Joy for adoption, letting Brandon go live with her father’s family in California, how she couldn’t wrap her head around either choice. Fitz had made a decision to keep the family together, and she would help him. “And I have two grumpy kids to show for it.”
“They’ll understand some day.”
He pulled in front of the house, parked the car, then walked around to open the door for her. Before she could reach into the back seat for Joy, he had her daughter in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He held the keys out to Brioney and motioned for her to go ahead to open the door.
She took the keys but couldn’t turn away just yet, taking in the sight of him carrying her daughter so tenderly. Something turned over in her chest, and she knew, had known since before they went out to his parents’ place.
Lord, she was in love with Blue Ramsey.
Chapter Ten
Jessamy’s laughter rang out in the dimly-lit bar, and several male heads turned
in their direction. Mercedes straightened under the attention, but Brioney kept her attention on her sister.
When they’d been growing up, people had always told them how alike they were, but now…no. Brioney didn’t see it. Jessamy had an expensive layered hairstyle, with highlights that mimicked what she used to get at the beach in the summer. Her clothes were tailored and probably had come straight from the dry cleaners, they were so neatly pressed. Her make-up was subtle but gave her a polish that Brioney wasn’t accustomed to seeing in her sister.
She could still drink with the best of them, though. Brioney gave a longing look to the slushy margaritas sitting in front of the other two women, each big enough to swim in. Which made her think of Fitz’s motel. Which made her think of Blue. Which made her wonder when she was going to work up the nerve to tell her sister.
Which made her wish she hadn’t volunteered to be the designated driver.
“I can’t believe you know stories like that about the people who run our state,” Mercedes said. “It’s kind of scary, if you think about it, because, well, don’t we want those people to have good judgment?”
“Oh, honey,” Jess said, putting a hand on Mercedes’s on the table. “That’s what I used to think, too. Now, I wonder how some of them put their pants on in the morning. But enough about me. What’s new with the two of you?”
“What could be new?” Mercedes waved a hand. “It’s the off-season, so everything’s slowed down.”
“Not that it’s ever fast,” Jess laughed. “God, I never thought I’d get used to the pace in Austin, but I love it. I love it so much.” She turned to Brioney. “And how’s my niece?”
Joy had about chattered her jaw loose when she saw her aunt earlier, so Brioney didn’t know what she could add. “She’s learning how to play recorder, she’s loving all the writing they do in fourth grade.”
“Fourth grade.” Jess shook her head. “How did that even happen?”
Jess had been away for most of Joy’s life, so that was how, but Brioney didn’t say so.
Summer on Main Street Page 55