Plain City Bridesmaids

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Plain City Bridesmaids Page 56

by Dianne Christner


  “This whole thing with Marshall and you has forced me to take a hard look at my life. I shared some things with Britt, and we got in a big fight about finances. I told her we needed to cut back. She pointed out that I was the one driving the newest vehicle.”

  So Fletch’s hunch was right—the vet had been under stress at home. He knew that the vet’s truck barely had the dealership’s sticker off its windshield, but Britt’s car wasn’t much older. From everything Vic had previously told him, he didn’t think Britt was being very fair about their financial situation.

  “I didn’t tell her yet, but I’m thinking about trading my truck back in, getting into something older.”

  One week later, Fletch drove to Ivan Miller’s farm, fiddling with Vic’s used-truck accessories. When he pulled up next to the doddy house, Lil stepped out onto the porch.

  Her eyes widening, she hurried down the steps and strode to the front of the truck. She turned sideways and bent to examine the emblem on the grill. The white bow tied at the back of her curvy waist made his mouth go dry. With a silent intake of breath, he hopped out of the cab, stifling the urge to clasp his hands around that captivating waist.

  She said almost accusingly, “I know what this red contraption is. It’s a Dodge Ram.” Then she turned and faced him, her hands back on her apron-clad hips. “Is this yours?”

  He smiled. “I wish. It’s Vic’s. He traded down.”

  “And he’s letting you drive it?”

  “He was in one of his better moods.”

  She gave him an impish smile. “The color suits you.”

  He reached for her hand. “Hop in.”

  When she grabbed the handrest attached to the truck’s ceiling, he assisted her into the cab. He nearly melted when his hands completely swallowed her waist.

  Lil settled into the leather seat and gazed down at him adoringly, with her feminine hands gripping the man-sized steering wheel. “You gonna let me drive?”

  “Nope,” he nearly squeaked, not having actually prepared himself for that idea. He thought she would scoot over to the passenger side, as it had a bench seat, and let him drive. She was, after all, a wrecker of cars.

  But she was already fiddling with the gearshift. “It’s an automatic? Great!”

  He cleared his throat, scrambled up, and tapped her hip. “Move over.”

  She giggled but hardly budged, obviously intending to drive Vic’s truck. But Fletch had other ideas. He squished into the seat beside her and closed the door. Thankfully, he had the keys in his pocket. He was still in control. He started the engine, and a seat belt warning chimed.

  “That sounds prettier than most,” she remarked. “Jezebel doesn’t have one.”

  “Pretty like you.” They sat so close that he took the driver’s seat belt and wrapped it around them both. She gave him a saucy grin. He placed his arm around her and put the vehicle in gear.

  “We can’t go far. I have sauce on the stove.”

  “Okay. But I kind of like this.” If it was any indication of what it was like to blend two lives into one, he could get used to it.

  She wiggled her elbow between them, probably to remind him she wasn’t easy—as if he hadn’t already figured that out—and they merged onto the road. He gunned the engine, and she gave a joyful shriek. The air coming through the vent lifted her hair enough that he caught its tropical scent.

  They drove past freshly harvested fields, and for lack of rain, a trail of dust billowed behind them, making a private curtain for them in their red leather cocoon. Fletch could have driven on for miles, for days, but suddenly Lil straightened.

  “What was that squeak?”

  Being so caught up in the Ram and Lil, he’d forgotten they weren’t altogether alone in the cab. He steered the truck to the side of the road. When the dust settled, he unbuckled and jumped out of the cab, ordering, “Stay right there.”

  She tilted her button-cute, freckled face and studied him curiously while he reached behind the seat into a box on the floorboards. His hand engulfing a tiny fur ball, he laid the mewing kitten on Lil’s blue skirt like a love offering. Lil took a sudden intake of breath, but her resistance quickly vanished, as he had hoped it would. He placed his elbows on the seat beside her, watching to see how quickly she’d fall in love with Slinky. Who was he kidding? He hoped she’d fall in love with him.

  She brought the tiny kitten up to her face, nuzzling him against her cheek, and Fletch held his breath. Fortunately, Slinky didn’t bat or scratch, too busy licking Lil’s cheek.

  “His tongue is scratchy and tiny,” she giggled. Then she turned and gave him an arched look. “Oh, Fletch. What have you done? How will I find time to take care of him?”

  That was all he needed to hear. He climbed back up and nestled next to Lil and her kitten. When he closed the door, the interior of the cab seemed cozy, like one happy little family. Only Buddy was missing. “Kittens aren’t much trouble. They use a litter box and mostly sleep when their owners are gone. They hunt mice, too.”

  But this kitten had other ideas. He evidently didn’t realize he was on trial and double-crossed Fletch by creating a wet spot on Lil’s apron. Her eyes widened and her lips pursed. She made a disgusted face. Fletch waited for the inevitable. He knew the fury that could spew out of his girlfriend’s mouth.

  Lil clutched her apron with her left hand and stared at the kitten. “Let’s go home. Slinky has a lot to learn.” But the way she slowly emphasized has a lot to learn with a sharp glance Fletch’s way, he understood that she was making a valid point about him.

  He didn’t care. He was content that she hadn’t flung the miscreant at him with a quick change of heart. Yes, that was a very good sign. But sadly, Fletch’s good fortune lasted only about five minutes longer. For when they pulled into the Millers’ driveway, Matt Landis’s pickup truck was parked next to the doddy house.

  CHAPTER 27

  Lil cringed to see her brother’s blue truck. As soon as Fletch cut his engine, Matt jumped out of his vehicle. Sporting a ridiculous “Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin” T-shirt, her brother planted his feet and slapped his hands on his hips to wait for them.

  Beans! She felt her face heat at the humiliation of being caught all cuddled up next to Fletch and even belted in the same seat belt with him. As if Fletch felt the same, he quickly unfastened it and jumped out of the cab.

  Lil scrambled after him, accepting his assistance to lift her and the kitten down. Her long skirt caught the truck’s seat lever, showing too much leg, which only added to her shame. With her free hand she yanked it loose, though not without a consequent ripping sound.

  As soon as her white sneakers hit the gravel drive, however, Matt speared her with a condemning gaze. “Isn’t this cozy?”

  Lil felt more wounded than angry over her favorite brother’s disapproval. It certainly wasn’t like it probably appeared to him. She hadn’t done anything wrong with Fletch. She took a deep breath and softened her voice. “Did you come to criticize me, or do you want to come inside and discuss this over a plate of pasta?”

  She felt Fletch’s reassuring touch at her arm.

  “No, I don’t want pasta,” Matt said angrily. “I came to tell you that because of you two, our dad is sleeping in the barn. Without you, Mom has gone completely over the edge.”

  The news cut deep. Lil feared what her mother might do again. Anything was possible. Once, Lil would never have dreamed her own mother would overdose herself. Mom had never claimed it was an accident. Would her parents be the first and only members in their church to separate or get a divorce, too? Though she felt that she had contributed to the general family upheaval, and her heart clenched with guilt, Lil still couldn’t allow Matt to dump all the blame on her. Out of her own pain, she lashed back. “Has she? Or has she finally stood up for what she believes?”

  “You know that women are supposed to be submissive. Actually, you don’t understand that concept at all.” Matt shifted his gaze to glare at Fletch. He thr
ust his finger, poking it in Fletch’s direction. “I did forgive you, but you attract trouble like hogs attract flies.”

  Fletch touched Lil’s waist protectively and jutted his chin. “I don’t care if you blame me, but I don’t like the tone and insinuations you’re using with Lil.”

  Matt gave a scoffing laugh that turned out more like a snort.

  The men’s angry expressions ignited the atmosphere with tension. Lil thought they might fly into each other at any moment. She tried to reason. “Matt, you of all my brothers should understand that the old ways aren’t necessarily the better ways.”

  Her logic fell on deaf ears. Matt turned suddenly and stomped back to his truck. He jumped in and slammed the door.

  The noise startled Slinky, and the kitten leaped, clawing, from Lil’s arms. “Oh no!” she gasped, looking down to see if the poor thing had broken its neck. But it jumped up and darted beneath the doddy house porch.

  Behind her, Matt’s tires spewed gravel. Fighting back tears of desperation, Lil knelt down to look between the gray step and the porch.

  She felt a touch on her shoulder. “Let me.”

  “I hope Slinky’s not injured,” she choked out.

  “Not on my shift. And certainly not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,” Fletch joked, his hand probing in the dark crevices as far as he could reach.

  Lil let out a nervous giggle even though she knew they shouldn’t be taking her brother’s angry display so lightly.

  “Got him. Ouch!”

  The kitten came out batting and struggling in Fletch’s hand. Nevertheless, he drew Slinky tenderly up before his face. Turned him this way and that. “I think all he needs is a small bowl of milk and some time back in his box.”

  Nodding, Lil touched Fletch’s arm. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll get his box.” He looked at Lil hopefully. “Maybe we can have some of that pasta.”

  “Sure.” She watched him stride to the truck.

  He spoke to the kitten, and she knew it was for her benefit. He wanted to take away her pain. “Look, Mr. Slinky, you’re not doing a great job of impressing your new mommy. You’d better …”

  His words drifted off, but Lil was very aware of his presence as she watched him and wondered how she had gotten so attached to somebody who had caused so much havoc in her family. Then looking down at her potty-stained apron and ripped skirt, she made a dash for the doddy house.

  A few hours later, Lil stood at the window and gazed under the plain green roller shade to watch Fletch drive away in the flashy red truck. Her blond Rollo and that red truck—even though it went against the prideful image that the Conservative Mennonite Church tried to shun—they both made her heart zip with pleasure.

  If her family was already upset with her, maybe it was time to try Fletch’s church. She imagined how it would be. Would his congregation take her in as one of their own? Would she be able to release the church restrictions that sometimes felt like a tightening noose around her neck? Or would she still adhere to them? Could she really step over the chasm that separated the Mennonites who didn’t wear ties from the ones who did? Once, she thought she could. Now she realized it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

  She felt God drawing her to trust Him, but she felt impatient, wanting to know what her future held. The lyrics of an old hymn ran through her mind: “I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.”

  She sincerely hoped so. She drew Slinky to her cheek, finding comfort in nestling the kitten that Fletch had gifted her.

  “Hello, Mom?” Lil went through the Landises’ mudroom and entered the kitchen, which smelled of cooked cabbage and sausage. Mom turned away from the stove and quickly crossed the room to her.

  “I miss you. Where have you been?”

  “Just getting settled. Working.”

  “Dating that Stauffer boy?”

  Lil nodded.

  “I figured.”

  “I missed you, too. Cabbage from Michelle’s garden?” Lil lifted the skillet lid and took the fork her mom had just abandoned to taste it. “Delicious. I wonder if you could switch Dijon mustard for German?”

  “Always telling your mother how to cook.”

  “Sorry. It might make it too sweet, anyway.”

  Mom urged, “Sit down, and I’ll make us a pot of tea.”

  Lil unconsciously fiddled with the canning jar centerpiece and watched her mom, looking for clues as to her frame of mind.

  Mom returned to the table with the tea and some homemade oatmeal cookies. “I suppose you came because you heard your dad was sleeping in the barn.”

  With shock, Lil worked to keep her composure. “I hope it’s not because of me.”

  “It’s about you and everything else that has infuriated me over the last thirty years.”

  Lil’s eyes widened fearfully. “Oh?”

  Mom sipped her tea and jutted her chin. “I told your dad that if he’d treated me better I probably wouldn’t have gotten so depressed.”

  Lil’s appetite fled. Her dad had enough problems with the farm’s failing finances and sick hogs. How could Mom blame her depression on him?

  “Then he wanted to know what he’d done. So I told him.”

  Lil was terrified to ask what Dad had done to ruin Mom’s life.

  “I told him plenty. That he treated me like a child, never discussing farm business. That all he wanted me around for was to cook and clean and see to his needs. I told him I had a brain, and a heart, too.”

  Lil imagined herself in Mom’s situation. Everything she said held truth, but Lil had never known that her mom hoped for anything more.

  “Well! I tell you. Your father went off in a huff. Slept in the barn for two nights. And I felt miserable. Lower than a dirty old rug. So the next night when he was preparing to go out after I had fixed him his supper, I asked him to stay. Told him I was sorry.”

  Many images passed through Lil’s mind. Her mom had still fixed his supper for him while he was sleeping in the barn? She folded her hands, tapped them against her chin, both enraptured and sickened in the details of her parents’ big fight. “What happened?”

  “He took me in his arms and cried.”

  Lil felt her own eyes mist. “Dad?”

  Mom nodded. “He said some real nice things about us, and since then, he’s been talking to me. Really talking. We’re not good at it, but it makes me feel better about a lot of things. It could have been different for us if he’d always talked to me like this.”

  Lil released a loud sigh, grateful they had worked things out between them. “Maybe it can still be different. The way you hoped.”

  Mom nodded. “Maybe so.” She took a sip of her tea. “When Will finds out you came today, he’s going to ask me if you’re seeing Fletch. And now that we’re talking, I can’t keep any secrets from him.”

  “All right. Tell him that Fletch deleted the video footage. That I believe he’s sorry about what he did.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Nothing’s simple about love. That’s for sure. Life either.”

  “Megan says that the most worthwhile things aren’t the easiest.” Lil sighed. “Mom, please don’t fight with Dad about this.”

  “It’s a touchy subject for your dad. He feels responsible for bringing Fletch to the farm.”

  “But he didn’t really. Bring Fletch. It was Matt who invited him to supper.”

  “Good news! Matt got his loan from the Plain City Bank! He’s ordered some hoop barns.”

  “That is good news.” Lil touched Mom’s hand. The hoop barns had been Fletch’s idea. She hoped Matt remembered that and dropped his grudge against Fletch.

  CHAPTER 28

  Fletch was working on a research paper for school, entitled “Obstacles in Obtaining Medical Attention.” Across the room in Fletch’s apartment, Buddy gnawed on a rawhide bone. Fletch tapped his finger impatiently ag
ainst his space bar, and Buddy cocked one ear.

  “Am I disturbing you?” Fletch asked. The dog lifted his head and panted in his direction.

  It was eating away at him that he hadn’t talked to Marshall since he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Since he’d deleted the footage. Fletch dreaded hearing the frail voice from the last time they talked, when Marshall had been in the hospital running tests. But he wouldn’t be able to move forward, like his dad suggested, until he made the call. Finally, he picked up his phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Marshall. It’s Fletch.”

  “I may be terminal, but I’m not ignorant,” the southerner drawled. “Ya are on my contact list.”

  Fletch grinned inwardly. “Genius would be more appropriate.”

  “That’s my boy. Ya always know how to compliment me when I’m fishing for one.”

  “Speaking of fishing. There’s a little river here called the Darby. I think you’d enjoy it as much as I do. Wish you were here and could throw in a line. I think you’d like Plain City.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking of driving over.”

  “No kidding? I mean, you’d be able to do that?”

  “After the chemo is finished. I think Marcus needs my support.”

  “I’m relieved you’re taking the chemo.” Fletch swallowed. It sounded as if Marshall wanted to tie up loose ends. “The last time we talked, you asked me to pray for you. I’ve been doing that.”

  “Thanks, kid. Marcus tells me you’re in the middle of a romance.” Fletch didn’t miss how Marshall quickly changed the topic away from God. “The little Conservative girl we talked about before? He told me that ya got caught filming at her farm and it caused a big ruckus.”

  Relieved that Marshall opened the topic he most wanted to talk about, Fletch quickly replied, “That’s true. That’s one of the reasons I deleted the film.”

  “What? Marcus didn’t mention that!”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Look, the sooner we get what we need, the sooner this shelter can support itself. I’d like to see that happen yet, before I go.”

 

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