Every Girl Gets Confused (25 page)

“Duh!” Mama, Alva, Twiggy, Crystal, and Dahlia spoke in unison. I did my best to keep putting dishes away to avoid the embarrassment that was yet to come. Were we really about to go there?

“I'll start by sharing one huge relief.” Queenie put the plate down and gestured with her index finger for us to listen close. “I didn't have to worry about my mushy old body. Not one little bit.”

“You mean he didn't care about the saggy boobs and such?” Alva's eyes widened. “That gives me great hope.”

“Nope.” Queenie slapped her thigh and laughed. “I didn't mean it like that exactly. I'm just saying that once the man took his glasses off, he couldn't see a thing. For all he knew, I was Angelina Jolie.”

We all busted out laughing. All but Queenie, who shook her head. “Then again, the man has hands, and I'm pretty sure this old skin doesn't feel anything like Angelina Jolie's.” She grabbed hold of her hips and jiggled them. “See there? See what I mean? There's a lot of elastic in this old skin. Angelina doesn't have to deal with that.”

“Yet.” Mama quirked a brow.

Queenie shrugged and gestured to her hips. “Well, there's more of me than there used to be, we'll just leave it at that.”

“The better to cuddle with you, my dear.” Reverend Bradford's voice sounded from behind us and we all let out a gasp.

Queenie turned, her face redder than the painted rooster on the cookie jar. “Paul Bradford, were you eavesdropping?”

“Not on purpose. I just had to come in to see what all the laughing was about.” He gently kissed her on the cheek. “But just so you know, I love a woman who's soft—inside and out.”

“Well, you get half of that with Queenie, at the very least.” Alva laughed.

My grandmother glared at her. “Now there's a fine response.”

“No, she's a softie, all the way to the core.” Reverend Bradford's eyes misted over. “I think it just took a little bit of love to bring it out.”

“You're so sweet, Rev—” I sighed, unsure of how to finish.

Reverend Bradford put his hand on mine. “Katie, I've been meaning to talk to you and your brothers about that. I know you're struggling with what to call me.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm Reverend Bradford to the community, but I'm more
than that to you. We're family now. I'd love it if you would call me by a meaningful name, something of your choosing.”

“Like Pap-Paul,” Queenie said. “That's my suggestion.”

“Just sounds more like something a child would call a grandfather,” I countered. “You know?”

“We'll have children one day.” Brady's voice sounded from the other side of the room. His words caught me totally off guard. I turned to face him, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. “I think they would love to call him Pap-Paul. So let's stick with that.”

Wow. You could've heard a pin drop in that room for the next ten seconds. Everyone looked back and forth from Brady to me.

“I think that'll do fine,” Pap-Paul said with a smile. “I like it. And it'll be fun to have children calling me that. Someday.”

This whole conversation put me in such a jolly frame of mind that I threw my arms around his neck. “Welcome to the family, Pap-Paul!”

“Thank you. You've all made the transition so easy. I feel like I've been a part of things for years.”

In a way he had. We'd known him for years, anyway.

“You seem to fit right in too, Brady,” Pap-Paul said. “It's nice to be part of a big family, isn't it?”

Brady's response to this was so tender that it took me by surprise. “Definitely. I'm an only child with a mother who always worked around the clock, so my Christmas mornings weren't like this.” He gestured to the overcrowded living room. “They weren't like this at all.”

“Aw, I'm sorry, Brady.” I walked over and slipped into his arms. He pulled me into a warm embrace.

“Just saying a guy could get used to this.”

“Well, I certainly have,” Pop interrupted us. “Anyone see that tray of scones? Don't tell me Jasper ate the last one.”

“Hey, don't blame it on me, Pop. It was Crystal.” Jasper pointed at her and she feigned innocence.

“You ate enough on our cruise to last a month, Herb.” Mama waved a spoon in his face. “Enough with the carbs already.”

“But it's Christmas!” He took the spoon and swatted her on the rear end. This resulted in a chase around the kitchen. Oh boy. Brady looked on, doubled over in laughter.

Before long everyone was arguing.

All but Queenie and Pap-Paul, who were smooching in the breakfast room.

And Alva and Eduardo, who were holding hands as they walked toward the living room.

And Dewey and Dahlia, who were snuggled on the love seat.

Oh, and Brady James and yours truly. With our lips locked, I found nothing whatsoever to argue about.

I don't even like parties.

Doris Day

W
e put together the yummiest lunch ever, then gathered around the table to eat. Afterward we opened presents. By the time all was said and done, the living room was covered in wrapping paper. Mama fussed and fussed as she picked it up and scooped it into trash bags. Then she plopped down onto the sofa, clearly exhausted.

Judging from the look on Pop's face, he had something to say to the group. He rose and paced the room, then stopped to face us all. “We have some news.”

“You're having another baby?” Jasper tried.

“Bite your tongue!” My mother looked horrified at the very idea. “No, this is another one of your father's harebrained ideas.”

“Harebrained, my eye. It's a stroke of brilliance.” Pop crossed his arms as if satisfied with himself. “Your mother and I have purchased an RV.”

A collective gasp went up from all in attendance.

“Technically, it's a fifth wheel,” Mama said. “Which can be attached to your father's truck and hauled from state to state.”

“State to state?” Beau looked perplexed. “Is that the plan?”

“Yes, but there's more to the story than that,” my father said. “See, I would like to say I've been to all fifty states before I die.”

“You're driving to Hawaii in a fifth wheel?” Dewey asked.

“No. We're driving to all of the states in the continental United States. Then someday we'll go on cruises to Alaska and Hawaii.”

“Don't forget about Puerto Rico,” Eduardo said. “It's not technically a state, but it's worth the visit.”

Pop rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the point is, we won't be home much.”

“You're already gone from home a lot,” Jasper said. “I guess we'll need to finalize the paperwork related to the hardware store.”

“Yes, and that leads me to my next point.” My father turned to Jasper and Crystal. “I know you two are saving up for your wedding and you've been wondering about where to live. What if we sold the house to you?”

“W-what?” Crystal's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, that's a
luv
-lee i-
de
-a, Papa Fisher!” She sprang to her feet and threw her arms around his neck.

Jasper looked a bit more reserved. “How much you asking for the place, Pop? I'm not sure about getting a loan for a house just yet.”

“We're asking a dollar.” Pop put his hands on his hips. “Do you think you can swing that, son? I know you have a wedding to pay for and all, so we didn't want to strap you.”

“A—a dollar?” Jasper gasped. He looked at Pop and then back at Crystal. “Seriously?”

Pop was never one to get terribly emotional. Not many guys in the hardware business were. But his eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “You've done such a great job taking over the hardware store, son. I'm very proud of you. And you've stayed put in Fairfield, something you never thought you'd be interested in.”

“So you're rewarding me for staying put while you run away?” Jasper grinned. “Cool. I can live with that.”

“Not sure I can,” Dewey grumbled. “Doesn't seem fair.”

“Oh, don't worry, Dewey,” Mama said. “You'll get your fair share of the inheritance someday too. If we don't spend it all gallivanting around the country.” She turned to us ladies. “Do you think I'll need a new wardrobe? I don't know what Herb is thinking, taking me on a road trip across all fifty states in the middle of winter. I think he's lost his mind. If you find my body frozen solid to a porta-potty at some RV camp, please bury me in the blue dress that I wore to Queenie's wedding. It's my new favorite.”

This led to a discussion about her dress. Naturally.

“Mama, I'm surprised you're going along with this,” I said. “I thought you were getting tired of traveling.”

“I want your father to be happy. And I had no idea the man had so many secret desires.” She fanned herself. “I found out about his passion for RVing the hard way, in front of fifteen hundred people.”

“Excuse me? You found out that Pop wanted an RV in front of fifteen hundred people?”

“Yes. On the cruise ship. See, there I was, looking like a lobster because of too much fun in the sun, and your father decided we needed to volunteer to be on the Newlywed Game.”

“The Newlywed Game? That makes no sense at all. You're not newlyweds.”

“I know, right? Anyway, it's a game—really, more of a contest—where they choose couples to come on the stage and answer questions about each other.” Her gaze shifted downward. “I don't mind telling you it was terribly embarrassing. I won't even tell you the kinds of questions they asked, but needless to say, everyone on board the ship got to know us because we won the whole thing.”

“You won the Newlywed Game?” I said. “Very cool.”

“Not really, because it pushed us into the spotlight, and everywhere we went people were talking to us . . . and
about
us. I can fill you in on all that later. But my point is, one of the game questions I couldn't answer. They asked your father, ‘What is one secret desire you have that your wife knows nothing about?' Now, I felt sure he would say, ‘Go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower,' but he didn't. He told that man—in front of fifteen hundred folks in the audience—that he wanted to buy an RV and travel the country.”

“Wow.”

“Yep. So I answered it wrong and they corrected me, and I felt so foolish, but mostly because I didn't know my own husband well enough to
know
that he wanted to buy an RV. Isn't that sad?”

“Well, you have to admit that Pop has been springing a lot of new things on you lately, Mama, so I wouldn't feel too bad.”

“I didn't, until after that stupid Newlywed Game was over. From that point on, every place we went on that ship, people came up to me and said, ‘Buy that man an RV.'” She sighed.
“Peer pressure. It happens at every age, no matter where you are. Even at sea.”

“So you came home and bought him an RV?” I asked.

“Yep. I mentioned it to Dad Bradford, and it turned out he and his first wife had one, a 2007 model, still in perfectly good shape because they'd hardly used it. So he sold it to us.”

“How sweet is that! Queenie didn't mind?”

“Mind? Can you picture your grandmother on a road trip?” Mama laughed. “Then again, I couldn't picture myself on one just a few short weeks ago, but I suppose that's beside the point.”

“I wish I had time to travel.” Eduardo's words took me by surprise. “But my workload is so high it seems impossible at the moment.”

I thought about his beautiful home. Surely the man didn't need to work. And he was certainly well above retirement age. Maybe he could work something out with Nadia—a part-time position with Cosmopolitan that gave him time to travel. Or maybe, if she made him a partner, he could come and go like she did. Yes, the two of them sharing the responsibilities of ownership might be just the thing. I'd have to suggest it to Brady.

My thoughts were so wound around this idea that I barely heard my phone ringing in my purse. Only when Brady alerted me to the fact did I jump up and run for it. I caught it on the last ring but didn't recognize the number.

“Katie?” A man's voice greeted me. A shaky voice.

“Yes?”

“This is Frankie Sanders, Carrie's dad.”

Seriously? On Christmas?
What are you mad about now?

He definitely sounded upset, but not in the usual way. He spoke a few more words, but I could barely understand him.
About thirty seconds into the conversation, however, I'd heard enough to stop me in my tracks.

“Mr. Sanders, did you say that Carrie and Jimmy were in an accident?”

At this point, everyone in the room stopped talking. Jasper muted the sound on the TV.

“Yes.” His voice was still shaking. “They were driving to our house for Christmas Eve and had just exited the interstate. A large truck was going too fast . . .” His words faded.

I wanted to ask the obvious, “Are they all right?” but couldn't seem to summon the words.

“It's Jimmy. He's in bad shape.”

My heart felt as heavy as lead. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Sanders. I really am. We'll be praying for both of them. Is Carrie . . . I mean, is she . . . all right?”

“She has a broken hand from where she hit the dashboard and some cuts on her face from the windshield, but she's very lucky.”

“Thank God.”

“Yes, we're all doing that down here. And we'll be doing a lot more of it when Jimmy pulls through.” A long pause followed. I looked across the room at my family and friends, who all waited for me to fill them in. They would have to keep waiting until this call ended.

“I know that Eduardo is expecting Carrie to pick up her dress next week, but that's just not possible. In fact . . .” He stopped again and I thought I'd lost him. “I don't know how they can possibly go through with the wedding in two weeks. The doctor said it might take two or three months for Jimmy to walk again.”

“Oh, Mr. Sanders, I'm so sorry.”

“No, Katie, I'm the one who's sorry. I made such a big deal
out of the rivalry between our families, and now . . .” His voice cracked as he added, “We have to work together to get the kids through this. We have to.”

“And you will.” I did my best to sound encouraging. “Please don't worry about the dress. If it would make Carrie feel better to have it—if seeing it would give her hope—then I'll have it shipped. Or I'll drive it to San Antonio myself.”

“I don't know. The dress might be a painful reminder of what hasn't happened, what isn't going to happen for a long time.”

“She might not wear that dress in two weeks,” I said. “But she
will
wear it. And in the meantime, I'm going to pray that God heals Jimmy completely and quickly. I won't stop praying either.”

“Thank you, Katie, for everything.”

As we ended the call I turned to face my family and friends. They'd picked up on most of the conversation through my end of it, but I could tell Eduardo was particularly shaken.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asked.

“She is. But they're really concerned about Jimmy. I didn't get a lot of details, but I think the doctors are worried he might not walk for quite some time.”

“Then we're going to pray.” Brady rose and reached for my hand. He gestured for the others to join us. “The Bible says there's power in corporate prayer.”

“Where two or three are gathered . . .” Pap-Paul said as he stood alongside Brady and took his hand.

“There's power in numbers,” Queenie added.

We gathered in a circle and held hands—the Baptists, the Presbyterians, the Lutherans, and even those of us from the community church. In that moment, as we lifted Jimmy's name before the throne of God, the things that separated us didn't matter. The things that united us did.