Every Girl Gets Confused (12 page)

“Great. Give her a crown and she'll want a scepter too.” Bessie May groaned and then laughed.

“Everyone deserves to be a princess—er, a queen—for a day,” I argued. “Especially on her wedding day. Wear it, Queenie. You'll look fabulous.” I stood beside her as she fingered the jewels in the crown. I took it from her and eased it into her silver hair. The mesh of silver and crystals against that radiant hair was exquisite.

“I must admit, she does look like royalty,” Prissy said.

“I do?” Queenie pulled out her compact and looked at her reflection.

“A royal pain is more like it,” Bessie May said. “She's been so stubborn throughout this whole process. Doesn't want anyone to do anything for her. She's so used to calling the shots that she won't take any help from us.”

“It's just pride, plain and simple,” Ophelia said. “But you know what the Bible says: ‘Pride goeth before a fall.'”

“Oh, I won't fall, Ophelia,” Queenie said. “I'll be walking down the aisle on my Herb's arm. He's been given strict instructions to hold on tight so I don't fall.”

“With all the weight he's put on, I hope he makes it.” Mama sighed and took another bite of her cake. And then another.

“And there you go.” Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I can see it all now.”

I could too, and what I saw brought a smile to my face. Queenie would have her big day, surrounded by people who adored her. Pop would make sure she made it down the aisle without tumbling. And I'd be there to witness the whole thing.

Queenie gave a little wave of thanks. “Ladies, I'm grateful. And thanks for not showering me with embarrassing gifts . . . like last night.”

“This is a church shower, after all,” Lori-Lou said.

“Humph.” My grandmother rolled her eyes. “All of the ladies in attendance last night were church friends and that didn't stop any of them from their shenanigans. Just grateful things played out differently today.”

“No shenanigans here, Queenie,” I promised.

At least, I hoped not. One never knew what the rest of the day might hold.

Turned out the gifts were pretty tame. A new toaster—
four-slice. A Crock-Pot, because no one can have too many of those. And an iron. Really? Who bought a bride an iron as a gift?

There were some lovely gifts too. A beautiful crystal picture frame for the wedding photo. A scrapbook to memorialize the big day. A pretty serving tray, and even some beautiful toasting glasses from Mama.

“I found 'em in Cozumel,” she said. “Got 'em for a song.”

“From a guy named Juan Carlos?” I asked.

“Um, no. From a shop that sells high-end glassware. Had a doozy of a time getting them back without breaking.”

Queenie proclaimed them to be perfect and said she couldn't wait to use them at the reception. This led to a dissertation from Prissy about the punch recipe she planned to use, which somehow transitioned to a story about how old man Peterson had been picked up on a DWI. I couldn't quite figure out how we'd gotten from one topic to the others, but I was stunned to hear about the arrest.

After Queenie opened her gifts, she thanked her guests and gave a little speech about how much they meant to her. “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all. This room is filled with the dearest people in the world to me, and I'm honored you've lavished me with your love.”

Bessie May wiped away a few tears and said, “Now look what you've done. You've stirred up my allergies.” This got a laugh from the others.

I headed to the kitchen to help Lori-Lou with the dishes. I found her in a reflective frame of mind. “I think it's so sweet the way they all support her.” Her words were followed by a little sigh. “I hope when we're really old we're still as close as they are.”

“Yes, me too. But promise you won't buy me a negligee from a naughty website when I'm old. Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.” She stuck out her pinky and we laughed as we made the promise. Then we tackled the mounds of dirty dishes, tossing the paper ones and putting the rest into the soapy water in the sink.

“You won't be getting married when you're Queenie's age,” Lori-Lou said after a few moments. “I have a feeling it won't be long before we're doing all of this for you.” She handed me a clean ladle, which I dried with a dish towel.

“Maybe. Not sure.” I thought about Brady, about his kisses, his sweet words. Just as quickly, I remembered his upcoming surgery. And the chaos at the bridal shop. And his mother's yearlong stint in Paris. Maybe I wouldn't be getting engaged anytime soon.

We continued to work together, our conversation sweet. Well, until Ophelia interrupted us.

“I'm going to serve up another round of cake,” she said. “Sure don't want Queenie to take it home. She'll pack on the pounds between now and the big day, and that will never do.”

Before I could say, “No thank you,” Mama stuck her head in the door and gestured for me to join her in the reception hall. I tossed the dish towel and followed her.

She engaged me in a conversation on the far side of the room, away from the others. “I've been thinking about what Bessie May said about her computer. All of that stuff about spam and such. We don't often talk about those things in the Baptist church, but perhaps we should.”

“O-oh?” Where was she going with this?

“Yes. I believe I'll ask Levi to teach a class on internet safety to the seniors.”

“Oh, good idea. But Mama, I sincerely hope you don't tell him Bessie May's lingerie story. It would wreck him.”

“It won't wreck him. He won't be shocked at all, I daresay.
He's such a great guy.” She gazed across the room, transfixed by something in the distance. “Sometimes a person doesn't have to look far to find the perfect match.”

“What do you mean?” I followed her gaze to Joni, who walked from person to person, picking up empty plates and tossing them in the trash can.

“I assume someone's filled you in on the scoop?” Mama whispered.

“Unless you're talking about ice cream, the answer would be a big fat no. What scoop?”

“About Joni.”

“Joni? You mean that she's working as a wedding coordinator now? Yes, I know all about that.”

“No.” Mama shook her head. “Joni. Levi. Dating.”

“Oh, right. I know there was some rumor about it, but it's been confirmed?” I asked. “Last I heard, it was just speculation.”

“I'd like to believe it's more. He worked as the youth pastor over the summer,” Mama explained. “But then, you knew that.”

“Um, yes. You tried to hook me up with him after Casey broke my heart.”

“True, true. I thought he might be a good option for you, Katie Sue. You can't blame a mama for trying.”

Actually, I could, but I didn't choose to do so at the moment. “So what happened?” I asked in an attempt to get Mama back on track.

“Well, Levi was working with the youth, as I said, and Joni was hired by the church to coordinate weddings.” Mama paused. “I don't mind admitting we were all a bit . . . surprised. She just didn't seem the wedding-ish type, if you know what I mean. But there they were, Levi and Joni, working at the church together day after day. Before long she was volunteer
ing to help with the youth alongside him, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Just seems strange. She was so tough in high school. And Levi was a mess back then.”

“I suppose that's what they have in common,” my mother said. “They've both been through significant changes in their lives. You just never know how things are going to turn out, do you?”

“No, I guess not.”

Mama grew silent for a moment. When she did speak, the emotion in her voice took me by surprise. “Katie Sue, you know I love you.”

“Well, yes, Mama. I know that.” But I also knew that when her conversations started with “You know I love you,” she was about to do something to make me question it.

“Jasper and Crystal are doing a fine job at the hardware store. She's settled right in and the people just adore her.”

“That's good news, but what does it have to do with me?”

“Well now . . .” She turned to face me, eyes brimming with tears. “I know that your father and I have been away a lot. He's got me gallivanting from one beach to another, and I don't mind admitting the nomad life has been fascinating. Not quite what you read about in books—especially if you're traveling with someone like your father, who tends to throw his dirty clothes everywhere in those tiny cruise ship cabins—but fascinating.”

“That's great, Mama.”

“But it would make me feel better if I knew you were in Fairfield where you belong.”

“I'm sorry—what?”

She reached to grip my hand. “Fairfield is your home. Surely you're not thinking of staying in Dallas forever. Right?”

“I hadn't really thought about forever.”

“Of
course
you're thinking about forever. After you and Brady get married, you'll settle down somewhere.”

Ah. So that was where this was headed. She thought Brady would marry me and sweep me away to Dallas-land forever. “We're not exactly marching toward the altar just yet. We're not even engaged.”

“You will be. It's as plain as the nose on my face. And I don't want my grandchildren raised in the city.”

“You don't have any grandchildren.”

“Yet. But when I do, I'd like to see them raised here, surrounded by people who love them.”

“Mama, you're never home anymore. So when you say ‘surrounded' . . .”

“I will be, once the grandchildren start coming. Surely by then your father will be past this phase he's going through. He'll want to be here, building swing sets and taking kids on picnics. That sort of thing.”

“It's just a lot to think about. If I do marry Brady—someday—he'll want to be in Dallas because that's where the Mavericks are.” Not that he was playing for the Mavericks at the moment, but whatever.

“Just pray, honey.”

“I—I do.”

“And once those grandbabies start coming, you come home to Mama so I can show you how to raise 'em right, okay?”

I sighed.

She had a point. If and when I had children, I would want them to know their grandparents. If their grandparents ever stayed put. But to bring this up right now, when I wasn't even engaged? My mother might be jumping the gun a little.

I thought about her words for the rest of the day. I'd made
a huge mistake with my first boyfriend, nudging him toward the altar. I wouldn't make the same mistake with Brady. He needed time. And right now, he just needed my support and comfort as he faced one of the biggest challenges of his life. I would walk him through it, no questions about weddings whatsoever. This time it was all about him, not me.

As I thought about all he was facing, my heart filled with such passion, such emotion, that I couldn't hold back the tears. I rushed to the ladies' room to have a good, long cry.

Lori-Lou found me in there soon after. She knocked on the door of my stall and said, “Everything okay in there? Folks are wondering.”

“I—I'm just worried about Brady. His surgery is in a few days.”

“I know, Katie. And I'm praying. The WOP-pers will pray too.”

“The problem is,” I said through the closed door, “those WOP-pers don't know how to pray without insisting that God do things their way. They'll probably turn my prayer request into a plea for a proposal from Brady.”

“And that would be such a terrible thing?” Lori-Lou asked.

“No. It would be a great thing. But right now I just want to focus on Brady's knee. My prayer—100 percent—is for God to heal his knee and his heart.” I opened the door and stepped outside to discover several of the WOP-pers were in the bathroom with Lori-Lou. Oops.

“We'll pray for his healing, Katie,” Bessie May said. “I promise. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Not sure I can make that promise,” Ophelia interjected, “because I know this football fella with the broken arm is the guy for you. But I'll do my best to pray that God heals up that arm right quick.”

“I for one would like to see you happily matched,” Prissy said. “So I can't agree to pray only for his arm.”

Good grief. “Ladies, I think you're the best. I really do. I just want to do it God's way this time. I tried to push the door open in my previous relationship and failed miserably. I'm tired of trying to make things happen. If God doesn't solidify this relationship with Brady, it's not worth having.”

“Oh, he'll solidify it,” Lori-Lou said. “I have no doubt about that. But it'll come in his time. His season.”

There was that word again—season. Hadn't I just told Brady that he was walking through a season?

“I don't know about the rest of you, but I find it mighty hard to focus in the ladies' room,” Ophelia said. “That big mirror is a terrible distraction. All I see is how bad my hair looks, and I can't possibly think of prayer when I'm focused on the terrible job the hairdresser did. Can we shake this joint and have another piece of cake?”

“You and that cake.” Bessie May laughed and opened the door. Ophelia walked into the hallway, mumbling all the way about how the hairdresser had botched her 'do. The rest of us followed behind her, all tension relieved.

As we made our way toward the fellowship hall, I looked over at Lori-Lou and laughed. “Oh well. At least they're not mad at me for what I said.”

“How could anyone be mad at you, Katie?” Lori-Lou stopped and gave me a warm hug. “Now, if you don't mind, we've got a lot of cleaning to do out there. Josh is on his way back with the kids, and I've got to get off my feet.” She rubbed her belly. “This baby girl is giving me fits. Kicking up a storm. And my ankles are swollen.” She pointed down at her ankles, and I gasped when I saw just how swollen they were.