by Susan Schild
“Darlin’ boy, it’s your mama. Hope you’re having a happy week. If I’m remembering right, you have Neal this weekend. Daddy and I were wondering if you two boys wanted to meet us for supper at the club on Saturday evening. It’s prime rib night and the chef does a real nice job. Give Neal a big ol’ hug from his grandmother and let me know.”
Just the boys, huh? What was she, chopped liver? Rattled, Linny overshot the glass, sloshing milk onto the table. She snatched up a dishcloth and mopped up the spill. Was Jack’s mom just not thinking? And when was Jack going to tell her they were engaged—after the wedding? Smelling singeing boxes, she hurriedly turned off the oven and opened the door a few inches. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down. She’d talk with Jack about Ceecee later. Tonight was about Neal.
She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms, and thought about last night’s phone conversation with Jack. He’d sounded worried. “Neal’s been hiding out in his room all day. Yesterday, when he was at his mama’s, he wouldn’t talk to me when I called.” He’d blown out a sigh. “It’s the wedding. He’s having a hard time with it.”
She’d thought about it and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “I feel stupid for not realizing how tough this would be for Neal.”
“You’re entitled. You’re a rookie,” Jack had said gruffly. “I’m the one who should have known it.”
So they’d come up with a plan. Linny’d scoured the internet for articles about how to help kids with their feelings about a parent remarrying. She’d sent the best ones to Jack with subject lines that read, “The psychologist makes such good points!” and “Read this one: Helping Kids Cope with Remarriage.”
She nodded her head, determined. Tonight they’d talk it out.
As the three of them munched their pizza, Linny sent Jack a meaningful look. He swallowed, patted his mouth with a napkin, and turned to Neal. “Son, how are you doing with this whole wedding idea?”
“All right,” Neil said, taking a giant bite of pizza, chewed enthusiastically and added something that sounded like, “Yaggating.”
“Finish chewing before you talk, Son,” Jack reminded him.
After Neal swallowed noisily, he looked at his father and pointed at Linny’s hand. “You’ve got no ring.”
Jack shot Linny a bemused look and turned up his hands. “We’re looking, buddy, but we haven’t found the exact right one yet.”
Linny flushed, grateful that Jack hadn’t offered any details on the great ring search, which had involved unsuccessful visits to seven jewelry stores. Every ring she’d tried on had looked too flashy or too ornate or too not at home on her hand.
Neal nodded and studied his slice of pizza. “After you told Mom you were marrying Linny, she wasn’t real happy about it.” He hunched his shoulders, adding, “She said some bad words and threw two plates, but Chaz calmed her down.”
A flame of anger burned in Linny’s stomach. The last thing Neal needed was dramatics from his mother.
“Good,” Jack said in a measured tone. “Change can be hard.”
Linny nodded. When he shot her a quick look, she gave him an imperceptible shrug. She never knew what she was supposed to do at times like this. Was she supposed to say something comforting or wise or just mind her own beeswax? She played it safe and sipped her water.
“The good thing is that both your mama and I have been lucky enough to find people who make us happy,” Jack plowed on. “Linny and I have talked about it, and we think we should plan the wedding as a family.”
“You . . . you want Mom to help plan it?” Neal’s brows knit and he shifted in his seat.
Linny widened her eyes at Jack and took a large bite of pizza to hide her smile as she guessed at some of Vera’s dream venues for them: a swamp, a coal mine, a viper pit.
Jack said hurriedly, “No, no. When Linny and I marry, we three will be our own new little family. Like you, Chaz, and Mom, right?”
“I knew that.” Neal nodded, flushing. “Couldn’t you just go to a church?”
“We can do it anywhere as long as there’s a minister.” Jack pushed his chair back from the table and crossed his legs. “We thought we might do something different.”
Neal nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I can’t think of anything . . .” he began, his brows furrowed.
“How about we just throw out ideas? Any ideas, even if they’re crazy,” Linny suggested, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper from the counter. “The main thing I want is for it to be special, but not fancy.” Writing those down, she looked at Jack expectantly. “Your turn.”
Jack rubbed his chin “Well, I want it to be small. Just close family and friends.”
Linny jotted that down, encouraged. This was going swell so far.
But Jack wasn’t done. Gazing steadily at his son, he spoke in a voice thick with emotion. “I want you to be my best man.”
The boy blushed and ducked his head, grinning. “Cool. Tuxes and everything?”
“The works,” Jack agreed, swallowing hard.
Linny felt her eyes brim and quickly brushed away her tears. Turning to Neal with her pen poised, she asked in a brisk tone, “So, what are your ideas for the wedding? If we celebrated it any way you wanted, what would it be like?”
Neal tilted his head. “Can we do it here?”
Linny clasped her hands together. “I love that idea. Why didn’t we think of it?” she asked Jack as she wrote down his idea. “What else, Neal? Anything goes,” she said, waving a hand extravagantly.
“Roy could be the ring carrier,” Neal said tentatively and, hearing no objection from Linny because her mouth had dropped open, he pointed at the list to make sure she recorded it. Linny wrote dog deliver ring while nervously thinking about Roy’s habit of trying to eat anything: road kill, dropped earrings, hair bands, mousetraps. She gave a little shudder, remembering the aftermath of last week’s purloined box of Chock Full of Fiber cereal bars.
Neal glanced at his father. “Two more ideas,” he announced, his face animated. “You two could ride down the aisle on horses and I could ride in on a zip line.”
“Hmm.” Jack looked thoughtful and sent Linny a questioning look. “I like those, don’t you, Linny?”
“I do.” Linny lowered her eyes and studied the list. Bless his heart, Neal was trying, even though he had to be feeling sadness and loss. The event would be odd, but she didn’t care.
Jack smiled at Neal. “Son, this wedding of ours is going to have real pizzazz, but we’re going to need to get cracking if we want to get everything done in time.” He eyed the supper dishes. “How about we clean up? This weekend, you and I can research building a zip line.”
The young man’s eyes sparkled as he hopped up and ferried dishes to the kitchen.
Linny cocked a brow at Jack, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “A zip line?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a lopsided smile. “Last week’s episode of Tip-Top Tree Houses. Be glad he doesn’t watch all those shows with zombies and vampires.”
Linny rested her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. “Roy needs a Rosetta Stone–type training course on dog manners before the big day. He might eat the ring.”
“I know.” Jack reached across the table and took her hands in his. “We did good, Lin. Including him was a great idea.”
Linny said in a low voice, “I was worried, but I think it went well.” She grimaced. “Can you believe Vera threw dishes when she heard?”
“I can,” he said, his jaw tightening.
Linny paused, thoughtful. “Tonight, after my class, I saw Vera and Chaz at Lil’s market.” She relayed to him the scene she’d witnessed and tilted her head to look at him. “Does Vera drink too much?”
Slowly he shook his head no. “She likes her wine, but it was never what I would call a problem, at least not while we were together.”
Linny thought about it and shrugged. “Then I’m not sure what I saw, but they weren’t a
cting like lovebirds. Maybe it was just a bad moment.”
“Those moments happen,” Jack said, sounding philosophical. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her toward him and gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks for being such a good sport about everything, Lin.” He rose and said reluctantly, “I need to get some paperwork done. Tomorrow is the end of the month.”
Nodding, she watched him walk toward the computer in the other room. Linny called after him, “Oh, your mama called. She left a message.” Linny busied herself brushing stray crumbs from the table into her hand and tried to keep her tone light. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but it sounds like you haven’t had a chance to tell them yet.”
“I haven’t.” He looked sheepish, then explained, “I’ve tried. They’ve been busy since they got back to town. Dad had a church vestry meeting Monday and Rotary last night. Mama’s been catching up with girlfriends and hosted her book club. I didn’t want to tell them over the phone.” His jaw set, he promised, “I’ll do it this weekend.”
Linny nodded, not quite convinced that there hadn’t been ten minutes since Saturday night during which Jack could have gone by his parents’ house and told them.
Neal came back to sponge off the table. Linny looked at him and said, “You and your dad need to help me learn to be a better horse rider. You know what happened last time.” She gave the boy a sorrowful glance and he snickered.
“That was bad, Linny. When you stepped into the stirrup, that saddle went all the way around.” He cackled.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Linny shook her head theatrically, enjoying being the butt of the joke. “Your dad told me to tighten the cinch, but I thought it would hurt Maisie if I pulled too hard.”
“You should have listened to him.” Neal’s eyes danced. “Your rear end was sore all week.”
“Sad but true.” Linny said.
Neal rocked back and forth on his lime green sneakers, then offered, “My mama rode English. She won ribbons in shows.”
Of course she did, Linny thought wearily, but all she said was, “Ah.” Would it always be two steps up, one step back with this young man?
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked thoughtful. “There’s a YouTube on how to saddle a horse right.”
“That might help,” Linny said in a neutral tone, secretly thrilled with the overture. She moved to the living room and sat on the couch, turning on the lamp on the end table.
Neal brought his iPad from his room, sat beside her on the couch, and looked for the clip. Linny could feel his warmth and felt a wave of affection for him. She wished she could put her arm around him or give him a little hug but knew better. From under her lashes, Linny studied him. Under his tortoiseshell glasses, his nose was slender and straight. He’d inherited his father’s long eyelashes and pine green eyes. His profile was even. Though he was gangly as a colt and struck dumb around girls, he was going to be a knockout.
As she and Neal watched a clip called Saddle up with Salvador, she heard Jack play back the voice mail and, a moment later, heard him say, “Hey, Mama. How are you?” Linny eavesdropped shamelessly.
Jack was quiet for a moment and then the uh-huhing started. Linny bit her lip to keep from smiling, imagining Ceecee’s lengthy recap of her week. As Neal was queuing up Cowgirl Nan’s Four Tips for Cinching Saddles, Jack finally got a word in. “Appreciate the invite for Saturday, but Neal will be with his mama. Linny and I usually get together on weekend nights.” After a few more uh-huhs, he said, “Let me check with Lin,” and walked into the living room with the phone pressed to his chest. “Mama wants to know if we want to go to prime rib night at the club with them.”
Linny’s breathing grew shallow and her thoughts raced. Last Saturday had been so weird. And were his parents going to expect them to eat together every weekend of their married life? She widened her eyes at Jack and he gave a helpless shrug. But Linny fervently wanted to get the we’re-getting-married conversation over with. “Can we just meet them at the club for a drink? I bought us tickets for that play,” she said regretfully. As soon as Cowgirl Nan finished up, she’d zip over to the other computer and buy tickets for some play, any play.
As Jack firmed up their plans, Linny gave a quiet sigh. But she gave herself a mental shake. It wasn’t going to be that bad. She needed to brace up, get the news told, and get on with the bonding. Jack needed her to learn to love his parents, and by golly—as Cowgirl Nan kept saying—she would. Turning back to the screen, she smiled at Neal and feigned interest in yet a third YouTube clip.
CHAPTER 7
Family Ways
Saturday night Jack pulled the big red truck under the portico of the Oakwood Hills Country Club and Linny watched as handsome men in camel-hair coats handed valets the keys to their Audis, Lexuses, and Mercedes. Their silky-haired wives emerged from the cars looking glamorous in their winter coats and heels, their necks swathed in colorful pashminas.
Inside, Linny smelled the trailing clouds of floral scents and watched as women in floaty dresses trilled their hellos and air kissed other women. She glanced down at the black sheath she’d thought looked tailored and sophisticated before she left the trailer. Now it just looked plain, practically Amish.
During her time with Buck—who did more deals in eighteen holes of golf than seemed possible—her attendance was required at a lot of country club events. Though she’d tried to fit in and make friends, she’d never been good at either. She seemed to keep meeting the same three types of women: the ones with names like Cricket or Hadley, who only mingled with old moneyed friends they’d known since childhood; the older men’s second or third wives, who compared notes about plastic surgeons and kvetched about their stepkids; and the no-makeup-great-legs wives who channeled all their energies into killer golf or tennis games. Whenever she answered their polite questions about herself and described her work, their eyes wandered or they needed to get a drink, make a call, or get home. She’d learn to just smile and nod a lot. Touching her neck, she felt the smooth warmth of Nana’s pearls and could almost hear her voice. Be proud of who you are, sweetheart. She lifted her chin. In a low voice she said to Jack, “I’m not a country club kind of girl.”
He tugged at his tie, grimacing. “I’m not either.” He gave her a sideways glance, grinning. “I’m not a girl either.”
She cracked a smile, put her hand though Jack’s arm, and gave it a squeeze for comfort.
They spotted Rush chatting with a waiter near the entrance to the bar and walked over. Jack’s father gave her a twinkly smile and folded her in a bear hug, saying gruffly, “How’s one of my favorite gals?” Linny flushed, warmed by his greeting, and smiled as she watched him pump Jack’s hand. She spotted Ceecee nearby at the maître d’ station, holding a menu and pointing at it as she consulted with the tuxedoed man. Seeing them, Jack’s mother gave a cool little wave and continued talking. Linny’s smile faded and she wilted a little.
After the three of them were seated and Jack and his dad had covered the cold front coming through and the ball games they’d watched, Ceecee joined them. Linny’s mouth turned up as she approached, noticing that Jack’s mother wore yet another pair of heels that clacked when she walked. Her white hair was braided into an elegant chignon and she looked chic in her winter white St. John knit. The men stood up. Jack leaned in to kiss his mother and Ceecee offered him a cheek. Briefly, she touched Linny’s shoulder and her charm bracelet jingled. No trace of last week’s effusive greeting. When Jack’s mother finally looked at her, Linny felt her stomach drop. Ceecee’s eyes were red, and it looked like she’d been crying. Linny gave Jack a worried glance, and he looked baffled.
Ceecee picked up the bar menu and studied it, then, in a dreadful sunny voice, launched in. “I asked the maître d’ to go over the supper menu with me and show me the healthiest items on the menu for a girl watching her figure. Marco said if I choose the horseradish sauce instead of the garlic bleu cheese, I should be fine. Guilt-free.” She stopped talking,
and the silence spun out.
A cold knot forming in her stomach, Linny gazed out the window and feigned great interest in the scenery. What in the world was going on?
“Well, well, well,” Rush said in a too-hearty voice and glanced at Ceecee nervously. He gave a little cough. “Ah. Um. Actually, a little birdie told us what you’ve been up to, and we hear congratulations are in order!” He slapped his hands on the table and smiled at them.
Ceecee choked back a strangled sob and blotted her eyes with her napkin.
Red-faced, Rush awkwardly patted his wife.
“Aw, Mama.” Jack leaned forward and, sounding apologetic, said, “We were going to tell you this week, but you all were busy every night.” He watched her for her reaction, wary as if he’d just poked a snake with a stick.
Ceecee gave a shuddery sigh, dabbed her eyes, and folded her hands carefully on the table. She shot Jack a reproachful look, her chin wobbling. “I had to hear about my baby boy getting remarried from my own daughter-in-law.”
Ex-daughter-in-law, Linny thought, curiously detached as she watched Ceecee’s dramatics. She felt a sinking in her stomach, starting to understand how levelheaded Jack could have married a first wife who was prone to tantrums and hissy fits. Growing up with his mother had gotten him used to drama.
Ceecee wasn’t done yet. “And that dear girl Vera is so upset. . . .” Her voice catching, she trailed off, shaking her head sadly.
Linny felt a flame of anger lick at her stomach. What was Ceecee’s problem? She should be thrilled. Her indignation rose and she looked pointedly at the men. Wasn’t one of them going to reel Ceecee in?
Jack fixed his mother with a gaze and said in a flinty voice, “I’m sorry you didn’t hear it from us first, but the point is, this is good news. We are very happy.”