I'm Your Girl

by J. J. Murray

  I suck in a breath. “What?”

  She looks around. “The acoustics in here must be terrible. Have you had your hearing checked lately?”

  “I heard you, Mama.” I clench my fists. “What do you mean I’m not marrying him?”

  “In August,” she adds.

  “Whatever. What do you mean?”

  She smiles. “Diane, you’re hearing me, but you’re not feeling what I’m saying.”

  “What’s there to feel? You haven’t said anything!”

  Or has she? Wait a minute. She’s leaving tomorrow, even though she brought six suitcases. Who brings six suitcases only to stay for two days? I’m not marrying Jack….

  “Mama, could you…” In August. I’m not marrying Jack in August. She emphasized that. “Mama, is it okay?”

  “Is what okay?”

  Jack looked so miserable, though! And he left without even giving me a peck on the cheek. “Mama, what do you think of Jack?”

  “I like him.”

  I’m not going to say, “What?” again. “You like him.”

  “Yes.”

  My fingers tingle. “But if you like him, why can’t I marry him in August?”

  She looks at the ceiling and shakes her head. “You could marry him in August, Diane, but I don’t think you two can wait that long. He definitely can’t, but if you want to wait…”

  “What?” escapes before I can catch it.

  She slides her chair back to the table, reaches out, and takes my hands. “My work here is done. There will be no August wedding. I like Jack. You two have to get married as soon as possible.”

  Blink blink.

  “Can I make it any clearer than that, Diane?”

  “No, Mama.” I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, I’ve been hoping that this very thing would happen, and now that it has, I don’t believe it!

  She squeezes my hands. “So, why don’t you go on this tour and find time to, you know, get married?”

  I pull back my hands. “You mean, elope?”

  She shrugs. “Your daddy and I did it, and we’ve done okay.”

  No way. “You and Daddy…eloped?”

  She nods.

  Why wasn’t I told this? “Can I ask why?”

  “Sure.”

  Mama doesn’t answer.

  “Why did you and Daddy elope?” I ask.

  “I couldn’t wait,” she says, with a giggle. “I wanted your daddy that badly. I prayed and prayed for God to take away that want—and, Diane, it was a serious want—but it just wouldn’t go away. And since I didn’t want to do anything I would be ashamed of before I was married, I talked your daddy into taking me down to Kentucky, where we found us a justice of the peace at three in the morning, and,” she sighs, “we didn’t even have any rings.”

  This is so incredible. This is so…wonderful!

  I see a tear slip from her eye, and my throat gets tight.

  “I came down here to stop you, Diane, partially because I thought I could, but mostly because I, um, because someone told me that I look at life too much on the surface of things. She said I was ‘skin-deep.’ I’m sorry about that.”

  I reach out and take her hands. “It’s okay.”

  “But when I saw you and Jack and the way you two have been looking at each other all day, I saw your daddy and me all over again, and it brought back so many wonderful memories.” She shakes her head. “You don’t need a church wedding to be blessed by God, Diane. God has already blessed Jack with you.”

  “And God has blessed me with Jack.”

  “Yes, I think He has.” She adjusts my ring. “It’s a lovely ring.”

  “Thank you.”

  She nods. “Jack has good taste.”

  “He does.”

  She stands, taking my hands in hers, so I have to stand with her. “And right now, Jack is packing two suitcases.”

  What? “How do you know that?”

  She puts her arm around me, moving me down the hall. “Oh, technically he’s only packing one. The other one is empty.”

  I stop. “How do you know this, Mama?”

  “It was my idea.”

  “It was your—”

  She pushes me gently into the living room. “Bill, when does our flight leave?”

  Daddy waves the phone in the air. “I’m still on hold.”

  “Well, hurry up.” She turns to me. “Diane has to call Jack.”

  I can’t think! “But he left here so—”

  “That was my idea, too. He was acting, Diane.”

  That sneaky man. And the whole time he knew—“So, the other suitcase is for me?”

  Mama shakes her head. “Are you kidding? That’s for what he’ll be bringing back.”

  Bringing back? “From where?”

  She smiles. “From your honeymoon.”

  “From my…”

  Honeymoon.

  “Daddy, give me the phone!”

  “But, baby, I’ve been waiting for half an hour,” he says.

  The cell phone. I have a cell phone. Now, where did I put it?

  “It’s in your car,” Mama says.

  “What?”

  “Your cell phone. It’s in your car.” She smiles. “I hope it has enough juice left.”

  58

  Jack

  “Look, Nina, she’s not going, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Don’t forget to pack extra boxers.

  I won’t.

  They tear so easily, and Diane has some seriously long nails.

  “Jackie, you’re not considering the big picture here,” Nina says.

  And that cologne she likes.

  I’ll get it.

  “If she doesn’t go, there will be no tour.”

  This might be pushing it, but…a can of whipped cream?

  They scan the luggage. They may think it’s a bomb.

  Well, something will explode.

  Ha-ha.

  “Look, Nina,” I say, “you know I didn’t want to go on a tour in the first place, so I don’t care if they cancel it or not.”

  What about…some chocolate syrup?

  I could put some in a freezer bag.

  Make sure it’s a Ziploc.

  Yeah.

  “Your career may be hanging in the balance here, Jackie.”

  What is she talking about?

  I have no idea. Now where’s the sunscreen?

  You’re not actually going to wear that stuff, are you?

  What do you suggest?

  Baby oil! And it has other uses as well….

  Baby oil is good.

  “What am I going to do with you, Jackie? This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Can’t you make Diane see that?”

  I already have.

  He already has.

  “Her mind is made up, and so is mine,” I say. “I don’t want my fiancée to be used as window dressing to sell more books.”

  I would have said “eye candy.”

  Yes, you would have.

  She is going to be tasty.

  Hmm. Where’s my lip balm? I can’t be tasting her with chapped lips.

  “It’s only for a week, for Christ’s sake!” Nina yells.

  “No,” I say. “You’re wrong. It’s for a lifetime, Nina, and I prefer to say ‘for Jesus’ sake.’ Good-bye.”

  I hang up.

  How about throwing in a deck of cards?

  What for?

  So you two can play strip poker.

  I don’t intend to be clothed.

  So, play for favors, you know, like—

  I don’t think I’ll have to win any favors.

  True.

  The phone rings. I check the Caller ID. It’s Diane…on her cell phone.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  “Jack, I am going on your tour,” she says.

  She never beats around the bush, does she?

  I like that about her.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Positive.”

  “It
may get rough, you know.”

  Ooh, kinky.

  I’m thinking about us having to change planes so quickly.

  Oh.

  “I don’t care, Jack. I am going with you. When are you picking me up?”

  “Oh, in about…two hours.”

  Silence.

  “Diane?”

  “Two hours? I thought your plane left tomorrow!”

  There has been a change in plans.

  Shh. That’s my line.

  “There’s been a change in plans, Diane.”

  “Oh.”

  I close my suitcase. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

  All at once, this life, this life.

  I’m beginning to like the all-at-once-ness of this life.

  All-at-once-ness?

  Can you think of a better word?

  Uh, no.

  “I’ll, uh, try to be ready,” she says. “Will I need an extra suitcase?”

  Hmm. She may be on to us. “Yes.”

  “Should it be empty?”

  She might be on to us. “Yes.”

  “I’m so excited!”

  So are we.

  “See you in an hour.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Click.

  Should I have told her to pack a swimsuit?

  You devil, you! You forgot on purpose!

  Maybe I did.

  Do you think she has any idea of what’s about to happen?

  You know, I don’t think she does.

  59

  Diane

  “Slow down!” Mama shouts.

  “He’ll be here in an hour!” I shout back, throwing more clothes into a suitcase while she packs up most of my dressing table in a carry-on bag.

  “You’re so unorganized, Diane!”

  “No, I’m not.”

  She reaches into the suitcase I’ve been filling and starts counting. “Five, six, seven…twelve pairs of underwear for a week? And only one bra?”

  For some reason, that sounds about right for a honeymoon!

  “Slow down,” she says again. “You have time to do this right.”

  I grab my iron, wrapping the cord around it quickly. “Put the spray starch in that bag, too.”

  She puts the can of Niagra in the bag. “They have irons at hotels, Diane. And ironing boards, too.”

  I put the iron back on the floor. “I’m not a world traveler like you, Mama.”

  I throw open my closet door. What am I going to wear? It’s April, so it might be cold in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia at night. I take down several long-sleeved outfits and toss them near my hanging bag. I’m not even sure they fit anymore! I wish I had more time to choose!

  “I suppose I should be telling you what a mother is supposed to be telling her daughter before her wedding night,” Mama says.

  I stare her down.

  “But I won’t.”

  Shoes! Man, I can’t take an empty suitcase if I’m bringing all the shoes that match these outfits! I’ll need another carry-on.

  “Mama, let me borrow one of your smaller suitcases to carry on the plane.”

  She leaves the room and comes back with a small soft-sided suitcase. “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it?”

  “Mama, I am going to be in public in front of lots of people. There will likely be photographers….” I cram six pairs of shoes into the small suitcase. “And you wouldn’t want anyone to talk bad about me, would you?”

  She sits on the bed. “No one will talk bad about you, Diane.”

  “Did you pack all my make-up?”

  “Yes.”

  I pull out my top drawer, looking for the sexy, satiny Victoria’s Secret outfit that Jack’s gift certificate “bought” me for Valentine’s Day, find it, ball it up, and stuff it in a zippered pocket of my hanging bag.

  “What was that?” Mama asks.

  Shoot. “Um, some pajamas.”

  “Uh-huh.” She unzips the pocket and takes out the top, a satin black tank top. She checks the label. “Size six?”

  I know I’m blushing. “It fits, okay?” And it makes my girls seem so much bigger.

  She pulls out the matching shorts, stretching them as wide as she can. “You’d need baby oil and a shoehorn to get into these.”

  I snatch them from her and stuff them back in the pocket. “They fit, okay?”

  She smiles. “Can you move in them?”

  I ignore her and look for—Ah, the burgundy see-through teddy I’ve been saving. But how do I get it from the drawer to the bag without Mama seeing it?

  “Mama, I think there’s some clean laundry in the dryer. Could you get it for me?”

  She stands. “Sure.” She moves to the door. “And burgundy looks good on you, Diane.”

  “Mama!” I pull out the teddy. “You went through my drawers!”

  She winks. “Now that one will fit. Those others…”

  I shoo her away with the teddy.

  I check the clock. I have less than thirty minutes! I pull open every drawer and just start grabbing, stuffing, and hoping until Mama comes back with a single sock.

  She waves it at me like a sock puppet. “Are you going to need this?”

  I snatch it off her hand. “I might.”

  Okay, okay, what else might I need? Money? No, it’s all supposed to be paid for. ID? Yes. What else? My camera! I’ll need film—

  “Diane?”

  I turn to Mama, who is sitting on the bed, pulling clothes from the other suitcase and folding them neatly. “What are you doing?”

  “Helping.”

  I check the clock again. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes!”

  “You want this suitcase to close, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And I have yet to see you packing any deodorant, perfume, toothpaste, toothbrush—”

  I rush to the bathroom, and scoop everything on the counter into a pile. “Mama, bring me that bag with the shoes!”

  She brings it to me, and I push the pile into the bag.

  “That’s going to be one big mess by the time—”

  “I don’t have time, Mama!” I interrupt, carrying the bag to my bedroom. “Now…let’s close up everything and get it outside!”

  “I’ll get your father,” she says, then leaves me alone with a small carry-on bag, a small suitcase I intend to carry on, a large suitcase, and a hanging bag, all of them stuffed to bursting.

  I have become my mama in less than forty-five minutes!

  Daddy comes in and whistles. “Good thing you’re only going for a week.” He smiles and hoists the big suitcase. “I thought you were supposed to take an empty one.”

  “I can’t,” I say.

  He shakes his head as he loads up. “You’re going to break poor Jack’s back.”

  When Jack arrives early—and for the second time today!—I tell Mama, “You can just leave my car at the airport and lock my house key inside. I have a spare.”

  “We’re taking a cab tomorrow,” Daddy says, taking the suitcases and bags outside.

  “Oh. Well…lock up before you go.”

  Mama pushes me toward the door. “We will.”

  “And, uh, and leave the outside lights on.”

  She sighs. “Diane, we know how to leave a house, so unless you want to get left, get a move on.”

  I stop. “What about my mail?” Not that I get that much.

  “Your mailbox is big enough,” Mama says. “Now go on.”

  I kiss her cheek. “Bye, Mama.”

  She hugs me. “Bye. Send us postcards.”

  I look into her eyes. “I love you, Mama.”

  She pushes a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I’m proud of you, Diane. I’ve always been proud of you.”

  I hug her closely. “Thank you, Mama.”

  She turns me to the door, where Daddy stands, holding it open. “Mr. Browning awaits your presence,” he says.

  I hug Daddy, kiss his cheek, and run down the sidewalk into Jack’s arms.
/>
  He checks his watch. “We’re going to be late.”

  “Listen to you,” I say, hugging him tightly. “And anyway, aren’t we really going to be early?”

  He nods. “Good point.”

  60

  Jack

  You’re driving too fast!

  The streets are practically empty.

  Slow down!

  Just trying to keep up with my heart!

  “Sorry I brought so much,” Diane says, gripping the door handle and steadying herself with a hand on the dashboard.

  “It’s okay,” I say, turning in to long-term parking and getting a ticket from the machine.

  “Did, um, did Noël travel as heavy?”

  “Heavier,” I say.

  Two pairs of shoes for every day of the week.

  I park, pop the trunk, somehow manage to carry all six bags—

  Watch your step!

  And we run to the terminal.

  You’re not exactly running.

  Shh.

  “How late are we?” Diane asks.

  I check my watch again. “I’m sure they’re boarding already.” I dump the luggage at the counter, telling the woman behind the counter, “Tickets for Browning.”

  “Oh, yes,” she says, finding a little folder and placing it in my hand. “You’ll have to hurry, but I think you’ll make it. Gate three.”

  I take the two carry-on bags, and we race to the escalator.

  You’re in pretty good shape for an old man. Save some of your energy for later.

  I’m sure I’ll be able to muster up something.

  After a few minutes waiting for security to give us evil looks, we get to the gate, both of us out of breath, and I hand the folder to the attendant. “Just made it,” he says, and he waves us through.

  “Um, Jack,” Diane says, “this flight is going to Charlotte.”

  I smile. “Another change in plans.”

  “We have to fly south to go north?” she asks as we stow the carry-on bags.

  We squeeze into two tiny seats. “Crazy, isn’t it?”

  And after that, I can’t think of a single thing to say but “We’re here.”

  “We’re here,” Diane echoes. She takes my hand. “Whoo. I didn’t think we’d make it.”

  You might have a little trouble making that next flight. You’d better tell her to get some rest.

  But that would spoil the surprise.

  Trust me. Tell her to get some rest.