by Debby Mayne
“Brett says he doesn’t know where it came from.”
“He’s the one who’s probably lying.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not convinced.” The fact remains, I don’t trust my own son because he has such a habit of lying to me that I rarely believe anything he tells me anymore.
Bucky finally looks directly at me as he lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to him.”
“What are you going to say?”
He blows out a sigh of exasperation. “I don’t know. Prob’ly something like your mama doesn’t believe you.”
“That’s not good. You need to ask him what they did in Brett’s room, what they talked about, and if he saw anything on Brett’s dresser when he first got there.”
Bucky squints as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you talk to him? I can’t remember all that.”
“Okay, I think I will. It’s just that you said he was better with you.”
“He is.” Bucky lifts his chin and glances away again. “But you’re the one with the bone to pick. I’m fine with what he says—that he had nothing to do with that weed on Brett’s dresser.”
As he turns to leave, I run after him. “Where are you going, Bucky?”
“To a place where there are no nagging wives.”
I know what that means. He’s going to Bud’s Bar and Pool Hall in Hattiesburg. “I don’t want you drinking and driving.”
“I’ll just have a few beers.” He pulls his jacket together in front and makes a production of zipping it. “I’ll be home for supper.”
As he leaves, I slink back against the wall behind me. Bucky was never a drinker before, but when one of his friends he met when the oil company was putting in the oil rigs invited him out for a beer, he said it would be a nice goodwill gesture. And now he goes a couple of times a week. Last time he went, Bud called and told me to come pick up my husband because he’d had too much to drink to drive home.
It all seems to come back to the money—something I’m constantly reminded of. I realize that money itself isn’t the root of all evil, but loving it too much sure can bring out the worst.
I was perfectly fine with the split-level house we have in Hattiesburg. It has four bedrooms, two baths, and a two-car garage—what I still think is plenty of room for our small family. But no, Bucky just had to spend some of that oil money that started burning a hole in his pocket the minute we got our first check. Every once in a while, I drive by the old house and long for the good old days.
The sweet little family road-trip vacations we used to take are now first-class flights to Europe or weeklong cruises in luxury cabins on some swanky cruise ship. Sure, I enjoyed seeing the Eiffel Tower in Paris and the Parthenon in Greece the first time, but I don’t want to keep going back. It dilutes some of the joy and wonder. Bucky, on the other hand, gets a kick out of saying, “Last time we went to Paris . . .” It doesn’t matter what he says after that, since he’s going for touting the fact that we keep going back.
Before we came into so much money, I could always find something to do. Now I find myself getting bored. With everything.
Bucky talked me into joining the Pinewood Junior League. I have to admit I was excited about it at first. Now that I look back on the three years I went to meetings, baked cookies for the Junior League bake sale, participated in their annual ball, and did lunch with some of the ladies close to my age, I know I don’t fit in. They speak a language I’ll never understand, no matter how much money we have or how much I try to be like them.
Don’t get me wrong. Most of them are very sweet women who are often misunderstood by those who have never been part of their group. If they come across as snobby, it’s more the result of being uncomfortable around people they don’t know well than being uppity. Granted, there are some who are too big for their britches, but they’re the minority—and unfortunately the ones who are the most vocal and visible in town.
It makes me sad that my old friends from before money have forgotten about me. Bucky says not to fret about it because they’re not worth worrying over and they’ll feel awkward in our world. I disagree, but I do know things will never be the same for me here in Pinewood. I’ve actually talked to Bucky about selling everything and moving to a place where we don’t know anyone so we can start over. He laughs and says everything will get better if I learn to accept who I am now.
The only problem with that is I don’t know who I am. Deep down, I think I’m still the bargain-hunting, thrift-store-shopping woman who doesn’t mind diving to the bottom of a pile of clothes to find that one wonderful piece that will make me happy for years. I miss bragging about the deals I’ve snagged off the Walmart clearance racks.
I’m relieved when Bucky comes home from Bud’s an hour later. “The place was dead. No one good was there.”
I give him one of the looks he hates and leave him standing there. Our communication is at an all-time low because there’s nothing left to talk about. I search the shelves for a book to read.
Bucky appears in the doorway and stares at me until I look up at him. “When ya goin’ shopping for some new stuff to spruce this place up?”
I sigh. “I don’t think we need anything new.”
“But you love a good shopping trip. What’s wrong with you, Marybeth?”
Now that folks are coming to our house for the next reunion, Bucky wants me to go out and get some brand-new pieces of furniture and shiny knickknacks. He’s been working on me for weeks. Granted, I don’t particularly care for the stuff we have in the living room, but the thought of putting that much energy and money into something that’ll probably get ruined when one of Bucky’s uncles gets carried away with one of his hunting stories and splashes sweet tea all over the place makes my stomach hurt.
“Everyone’s seen all this stuff before. We don’t want their tongues waggin’ about how we’ve fallen onto hard times.”
I don’t really care what they think anymore, but I can’t tell Bucky that. So I shake my head and counter. “A few colorful pillows, a new burnt-orange throw, and a couple of extra lamps will make it seem like a whole new place.”
Bucky squints. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I cross the room and pick my jacket up off the back of the sofa that I hate sitting in but can’t bear to replace. That thing cost more than our entire living room set in our last house.
“Want me to go with you?”
“No.” The word comes out a little too fast, so I hope he’s not suspicious.
“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll leave the décor up to you.” He snickers. “If I had my way, one of these rooms would have a whole wall of wild turkey, deer heads, and whatever else I can shoot.”
You can take the redneck out of the woods . . .
We still don’t know the final decision on the condo yet, but Nate has called a couple of times to update me. I’ve stopped by to bring him some papers from our accountant, and every time I see him, I get that same belly-flopping feeling.
“You keep talking about that guy at the bank.” Sally giggles. “All I hear is Nate this and Nate that.”
“He’s very nice.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She shoots me a teasing grin.
I glance away. “At any rate, I’m learning quite a bit about the mortgage business. I never really thought about what would happen if you didn’t pay the mortgage.”
“Speaking of which,” Sara begins, “we’ll need to buy out your half of this place.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about it, but we want to do it. Justin has been saving, so we should have enough to cover it.”
“Only if it doesn’t put a hardship on you.”
She sighs. “As long as you and I have our business, I think we’ll be fine. Since Justin can’t go back to his job at the automotive shop yet, we might even put him to work doing some of the stuff you and I don’t like to do.”
I laugh. “It’ll be fun to watch
your manly guy making hair bows for little girls. He really was pretty good that one time.”
Sara laughs. “I know, right? Just don’t laugh too hard, or he might dig his heels in.”
As annoying as Sara can be sometimes, I love the fact that she never tries to take advantage of me. And Justin seems to have the same values.
My cell phone rings, and Sara shoots me a look. When I glance at my phone and see Nate’s name on the screen, my heart kicks up the pace. Sara laughs.
When I say, “Hi, Nate,” she mouths it right back to mock me. I turn away. “What’s up?”
“Um . . . would you mind coming in . . . um, to sign some papers?”
I glance over my shoulder and see that Sara is staring at me with a smirk on her face. “What time?”
“How about 11:30? After you sign, maybe we can go to lunch.”
Now my heart is totally pounding out of control, so I clear my throat. “I think I can make it there at 11:30.”
“Good. See you then.”
After I click the Off button, I do my best to take on a nonchalant expression before looking at my sister. But she knows me too well and can read me like a book.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Where do you have to be at eleven thirty?”
“The bank. I have to sign some papers.”
“And then what?”
I finally blow out a breath I just now realize I’m holding. “We’re going to lunch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Finally.”
I shoot her a curious look. “Huh?”
“He’s been calling you and acting like a lovesick puppy, and you’re behaving in a way I’ve never seen you act before. It’s about time the two of you had a date so we can get this romance rolling.”
“It’s not a romance.” I quickly look away.
“Tell me that after you get back from lunch.” She points to the bow I have a death grip on. “Do you want me to finish making that so you can get ready for your . . .” She smiles and giggles. “Your business appointment?”
“I’ll finish it.” I turn back toward the worktable and redo the bow with fresh ribbon. Once I’m finished, I push my chair back and stand. “I’ll be back right after lunch to help finish the orders.”
She gives me a knowing grin. “Don’t rush. I’ve got everything covered here.”
After I freshen up my makeup and change into something more appropriate for a bank meeting than the yoga pants and oversize T-shirt I’ve had on all morning, I leave for my appointment. To my surprise, Nate is standing by the door of his office.
“Hey, you’re right on time.” He gestures for me to follow. “Let’s go get this paperwork signed so we can grab some lunch. Unfortunately, I only have an hour.”
“We can do it some other time.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” He looks me in the eye as understanding flows between us. “We’ll have lunch today and dinner on another day. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like—” Why can’t I come up with something witty? My cheeks grow hot, and I fidget with the strap on my handbag. When I realize what I’m doing, I sigh. “Sounds good.”
We sit down, and he passes a paper across the desk. “Just put your initials where you see the yellow highlights and sign on the line on the last page.”
I flip through the pages and see my signature on the last line. “I’ve already signed this.”
“So you did. Oops. My bad.” He smiles as he takes the paper. “Ready for lunch?”
I nod. My appetite left the second he looked into my eyes. I’ve heard of people losing their appetite when they fall in love, but I barely know this guy. Is it possible? Nah, not this soon. Mama always said there’s no such thing as love at first sight because it takes time to grow and develop into more than a physical attraction. But I sure do like how it feels to be with him.
As we walk through the lobby, it seems like everyone is watching us, but I don’t care. He holds the door and leads me to his pickup truck—something I didn’t expect. He opens my door and lets me in before running around to the driver’s side.
He slides in behind the wheel and puts on his seat belt before turning to me with a smile. “You look baffled.”
“I do?”
He nods. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” I grin at him. “I’m a little surprised you drive a truck, but I like it.”
He laughs. “Most people who know me from way back are shocked when they find out I work at a bank.” He pauses as he starts the engine and backs out of the parking spot. “And people who meet me at the bank seem to expect me to drive something different.”
I shrug. “Most of the men in my family drive pickup trucks, so I think it’s great.”
He pulls up to the stop sign at the edge of the parking lot and faces me. “I like you, Sally. There’s something different—something unpretentious about you.”
“What’s there to pretend? If I try to be someone I’m not, anyone who gets to know me will eventually find out. I don’t want anyone to think I’m a poser.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” He points to the Gold Post, my favorite po’boy shop in the area. “Do you mind eating fast food for lunch if I promise to take you somewhere nice when we go out on a real date?”
“Only if I can get the roast beef po’boy and fries smothered in gravy.”
“You’re definitely my kind of girl. That’s what I like too.”
A few minutes later, as we sit across the table from each other, chatting about everything under the sun while munching on our sandwiches with gravy dripping on our plates, I feel like there might be something beyond physical attraction. We click. Mama would say that’s silly, but Nate and I have so much in common I feel like we’ve known each other for years.
The only bad thing is that we have to keep an eye on the time that is whizzing by at lightning speed. When he says we need to head on back, I feel a strange blend of sadness and anticipation welling in the pit of my belly.
We continue our conversation until he pulls into the bank parking lot. “I’ll walk you to your car, but I need to get in there for my first afternoon appointment.” As soon as I unlock my car door, he opens it and holds it for me as I get in. “I’ll call you tonight.”
All the way back home, I think about our conversation and how we’ve already established so many things we have in common. I love the fact that he’s multifaceted and not just some stuffy banker who doesn’t have interest in anything but counting money and selling mortgages.
As soon as I walk into the condo, I spot Sara pulling on her jacket. “I’m going to the hospital for a little while.”
“Tell Justin I said hi.” I shrug out of my own jacket and put it on a hook on the closet door before going to the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Sally!”
I spin around and see Sara’s eyes widen as she stares at me in what appears to be disbelief. “What?”
“You’re floating, and that can only mean one thing.” Her expression softens as she chuckles. “You’re totally smitten.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I’ll go on this cruise, but not until after the reunion.” I’m getting more and more frustrated with George, who insists we take advantage of a last-minute special weeklong cruise. I appreciate the fact that he’s thinking about romance, but there are times when other things are more important.
“That’s when we’re going—right after the reunion.”
“But I’ll need some time to get ready for it.” I purse my lips and give him a look I know he hates. “If we go on this one, I won’t be able to go to the reunion.”
“C’mon, Sheila.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull back. “It’s the best deal out there. You can skip the reunion this one time, can’t you?”
“Nope. I promised your mama I’d be there, and she’s the last person I’d want to disappoint.”
He winces, letting me know I hit him right in his weak spot. “Yeah, you’re
right. Mama’s been good to us, and if you told her we’d go, we have to go.”
“Besides, I’d much rather wait until it’s a tad warmer so I can enjoy all the amenities on the ship.” Then a thought hits me. “Will you be able to get your money back?”
George hesitates and then nods. “I haven’t actually paid for it yet.”
“Then you didn’t actually book it?”
He shakes his head. “They told me they have a lot of empty cabins, so I figured there would be one available.”
I start to laugh but catch myself. My husband clearly has a lot to learn about things like this.
George sighs and gives me the hint of a smile. “I appreciate the fact that you’re worried about disappointing Mama. She’s always adored you.”
What I’m really worried about is missing some of the most important events in my children’s lives. Justin gets to go home the day before the reunion, and I want to help out any way I can until he’s back to normal. Sally is holding her breath, waiting to find out if the bank is going to let her buy that condo she’s been so excited about. And Sara has hinted that we might be getting another son-in-law soon. She says she’s never seen Sally so smitten. That disturbs me though, because it’s some guy I’ve never met and she’s only known a short time. I want her to settle down, but I don’t want her jumping into something that might break her heart.
“Sheila, honey?”
I turn around at the sound of my husband’s voice. “What?”
“Let’s pray together, like we used to.”
I start to give him an excuse, like I have to start supper or call one of the girls, but the look on his face touches me to my core. George used to groan when I wanted to pray with him, so I lift my chin and nod. “Okay.”
As we join hands and lower our heads, I feel a sense of peace . . . of togetherness washing over us. And it’s not just George and me. There’s no doubt in my mind that the Lord is right there with us, loving us and forgiving us for putting Him in the backseat.
I listen to my husband offer thanks to the Lord and awkwardly ask for forgiveness for not being the kind of husband I deserve. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues on about what a blessing I’ve been in his life. I don’t doubt that he believes every single solitary word he’s saying, but I know I don’t deserve such kind and loving words.