That Lucky Old Sun (The Bella Novella Collection Book 4) (5 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Warmth of the Sun

On Tuesday evening, just a couple of days after Mrs. Nguyen’s trip to the E.R., the Pappas family invited the Nguyens to dinner. D.J. and I were asked to attend, as well. I did my best to decline, but Ling insisted that she and Darian had some big news I wouldn’t want to miss. She also wanted me to wrap up final plans with Pastor Lindsey, who planned to attend the dinner, as well.

Frankly, I was just afraid of another brou-ha-ha between the two families. That, and I needed to keep my nose to the grindstone. I still had vendors to coordinate, a cake to check on, a wedding photographer with the stomach bug and a variety of other issues related to the Nguyen-Pappas shindig.

But, I laid all of that down for one last dinner with the two families. 

Aunt Rosa offered to watch our children so that D.J. and I could have what she called a date night. I hesitated, in part because of the incoming storm. I didn’t want to get stuck too far away from my babies. And I highly doubted that D.J. would consider an evening with these two families as a ‘date night.’

In the end common sense won out. D.J. decided it was safer to leave the kids with my family than to throw them into the middle of another squabble between the Pappases and the Nguyens. I had to agree.

Still, something inside of me churned as I looked up at the skies over the Gulf as we drew near to West Beach.

“What do you think, D.J.?” I pointed to ominous clouds in the distance. They hovered over us in menacing fashion.

“I think they’re going to be upgrading this tropical storm to a Cat 1 hurricane. Or Cat 2. Not that I’m a weather forecaster, but that would be my guess.”

“You really think so?”

He turned on his signal as we approached the small street leading into the Pappas’s neighborhood. “Yeah. But I’m confused. I thought this thing was supposed to fly in over Freeport, to the west of us. Galveston isn’t supposed to take a direct hit.”

“That’s what I heard, too.”

He glanced upward again as we pulled into the driveway. “Those skies aren’t convincing me, though.”

They weren’t convincing me, either.

Still, I did my best to push my concerns aside as we got out of the car. Mrs. Pappas greeted me at the door, a broad smile on her face. “Welcome, happy people!”

Okay, then. Looked like we were off to a better-than-usual start. We followed her through the front hallway, past the living room and into the kitchen, where we found Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen seated on barstools, enjoying lemonade with Pastor Lindsey. Whoa. Had I fallen into some sort of alternate state of reality or something?

Nope. Looked like all the players in this drama were on their best behavior this evening. Good going. Might have a little something to do with the pastor’s attendance. Folks always seemed to try harder when a man of the cloth was present.

I couldn’t help but notice that the other Pappas children weren’t home tonight. Darian explained that his sister Eva had taken them bowling. And speaking of bowling, I thought I heard a distant rumble of thunder. Hmm.

While we visited in the living room, Mrs. Pappas served up appetizers, which included some sort of Asian dish I didn’t quite recognize and skewers of meat, grilled to perfection. I had to give the woman props for trying something out of her comfort zone. Grandpa Nguyen really seemed to be enjoying the skewered pork barbecue. He kept going back for more. And though the elderly fellow rarely said a word, he communicated volumes with his gracious
oohs
and
aahs
as he ate.

We’d no sooner taken our first few bites than Ling rose to address the crowd. Her gaze traveled first to her parents. “
M
á
.
Cha
. We’ve got something to tell you.”

“What’s that, Ling?” Mrs. Nguyen looked up from the appetizer into her daughter’s eyes.

“Pastor Lindsey will still be officiating the wedding, as we’ve said. . .”

The good pastor nodded, then continued eating.

“But Darian and I want you all to know that we’ve also invited the pastors from the Vietnamese church and the Greek Orthodox Church to participate.”

“W-What?” Mrs. Pappas’s eyes flooded with tears. “Is this right, son?”

Darian nodded. “Yes. And both are on their way here to spend the evening with us, to discuss a plan.”

Well then. If that didn’t beat all.

“Darian and I would be honored if you would all join us as we come up with the right balance of cultures, sure to make everyone happy.” Ling turned her attention to his parents. “
All
of you.”

Wow. Well, if these words didn’t take me by surprise, nothing would. I wanted to give Ling and Darian a hug right here and now, but decided to wait until after the planning session came to an end.

At this point, her grandfather started weeping. Thank goodness, they appeared to be tears of joy.

“Do you mean it, Ling?” The elderly Mr. Nguyen reached for her hand. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. But it won’t just be Vietnamese. We’ll have the Greek Orthodox priest there, as well. Can everyone live with that?” Her eyebrows arched as she looked her father’s way.

“I guess I’ll have to.” He paused and then nodded. “Yes, I think it’s a grand idea. Quite the compromise, in fact.”

This led to some pleasant chatter from all in attendance, including D.J., who finally relaxed enough to join in.

When the room grew silent, Ling looked my way, concern etched in those beautiful almond eyes of hers. “You okay with this, Bella?”

As if she needed my approval.

“Girl, it’s your big day. Anything you decide is great with me.” I took another bite of my appetizer, the taste growing on me. I shifted my gaze to Pastor Lindsey, who seemed more than a little taken with the food. “How do you feel about it, Pastor?”

“I think it’s a fine idea. We’re all Christians, though each church has its own particular customs. Everyone can be represented and I might just learn a thing or two along the way. Always interested in seeing how the Lord moves among his people.”

Before he could elaborate, the doorbell rang. Darian and Ling went to fetch the incoming guest and returned with the Vietnamese pastor, who greeted Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen with great gusto. Speaking in Vietnamese, of course. Next to arrive was the Greek priest. He came in full garb, as if expecting to perform the ceremony right here and now.

“Getting kind of windy out there,” he said, as he brushed his fingers through gray, thinning hair. “Might need to build an ark.”

“Surely not.” I took a peek out of the window and gasped when I realized how much the winds had picked up just since our arrival. I reached for my cell phone, then looked at my hosts. “Do you guys mind if I call and check on the kids?”

“Of course not, Bella.” Mrs. Pappas waved away any concerns. “Check on your babies. But meet us in the dining room when you can. I’ve got a wonderful dinner, ready to be served.” Her face beamed with delight. “All Asian food!”

If I could’ve kissed the woman on the cheek, I would have. Instead, I shifted my attention to my phone. A quick call to Aunt Rosa put my mind at ease. Apparently the storm hadn’t hit the east end of the island yet. Thank goodness. I could hear the children playing in the background, which calmed my nerves. Rosa put me on speaker phone and I spoke to each of the kids, then ended the call, trying to remain positive and upbeat.

Afterwards, as I pressed my phone into my purse, I heard D.J.’s voice.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. They’re not seeing much action from the storm yet. Strange that it’s coming in here, of all places.” I took another peek out of the window and a shiver ran down my spine. Hopefully the cloudy skies wouldn’t hover over us long.

D.J. and I joined the others in the dining room for one of the most delicious meals I’d ever tasted. As Ling and Darian shared their thoughts with the incoming pastor and priest, I found myself relaxing for the first time in ages.

Until the thunder started.

Just about the time Mrs. Pappas offered dessert, the lights flickered. I jolted to attention. “Whoa.”

Another blink of the lights left me even more unnerved. Thank goodness we weren’t left in the dark for more than a couple of seconds, though.

“Guess we’d better eat this dessert fast so you folks can get on the road.” Mrs. Pappas’s words trembled a bit.

A crash of thunder sounded overhead, along with the rush of winds. We all stood at once and made our way to the window, where we had to face reality once and for all.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s going anywhere tonight,” Mrs. Pappas said, as she turned her attention back to her guests. “Hope you all brought your sleeping bags!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

God only Knows

We didn’t stand at the dining room window for long because a terrible racket at the back of the house drew our attention. I followed on D.J.’s heels into the living room and gasped as I looked out of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the deck.

“Oh, no!”

The howling winds outside rose to a deafening level and the patio furniture began to scoot along toward the glass, as if being tugged by an invisible magnet. I could almost picture all of it coming straight through the glass.

Obviously D.J. did, too. “We need to tie those down or put them in some place where they won’t become torpedoes.”

D.J. flew into action, just as I knew he would. Within minutes, he, Darian, Mr. Pappas, Mr. Nguyen and Pastor Lindsey were all braving the storm to lug patio chairs to the garage. The Greek orthodox priest, with the help of the Vietnamese pastor, flipped the tables upside down and weighted them down with large potted plants.  Then all of the men rushed back inside, the wind pushing them through the back door as they called out instructions to the women.

“Everyone to higher ground, folks,” Mr. Pappas hollered.

“Not higher ground, Babbas,” Darian said. “We need an interior room. Downstairs. It’s too dangerous upstairs. The whole roof could peel off.”

Well, that was comforting.

“Someplace without windows,” Ling added. “You have a room like that? Large enough for all of us, I mean? A closet, maybe?”

“We have closets in the interior of the house, yes.” Mrs. Pappas appeared to be thinking. “I also have a very spacious interior master bath. Designed it myself.”

“Windows?” Mr. Nguyen asked.

“Nope.” Mrs. Pappas shook her head. “Not a one. We did give thought to a skylight, but the idea of seagulls overhead during my bath time unnerved me.”

“No windows,” Mr. Nguyen said with a nod. “The bathroom will have to do.”

“Oh, goodie!” Mrs. Pappas smiled. “I really like the colors. I hope you all agree, since I think that’s the only place we’ll all fit.”

“Mama, the colors aren’t going to matter, I can assure you.” Darian grabbed Ling’s hand and rushed her toward his parents’ master bedroom.

“Everyone to the john!” Pastor Lindsey hollered. “Hunker down.”

“All of us?” Mrs. Nguyen paled as she took hold of her husband’s hand. “How big is this bathroom you’re talking about, anyway?”

She got her answer a couple of minutes later when we all jammed ourselves into one of the biggest bathrooms I’d ever seen. The menfolk pulled in a few chairs for the ladies and pastors—and Grandpa Nguyen, of course—but that left Mr. Pappas and Mr. Nguyen with no place to go. Not that I had time to fret over it. At the very moment Mrs. Pappas said, “Where will you sit, darling?” the lights went out.

D.J. settled onto the floor next to my chair and took my hand.

“You okay, Bella?” he whispered.

“I. . .I think so.” I wanted to call Aunt Rosa again to check on the kids, but with Mrs. Pappas on her phone talking so loudly to Eva, I didn’t dare place the call. Yet.

Our hostess eventually hung up and her voice sounded across the darkness. “Eva says they’re all holed up in the bathroom at the bowling alley. The kids are terrified but they’re safe. It’s a concrete building, so I’m praying it’ll hold.”

I was a little terrified, myself. The winds overhead howled and the whole room seemed to shake. In that moment, weather alerts started going off on all of our phones simultaneously. Talk about unnerving. I glanced down and read the words, “Take shelter,” then groaned. What other choice did we have?

Cracks of thunder sounded so close I wondered if they’d split the house down the middle. Surely not. My hubby had a hand in building this place, after all, and his work was made to last.

Hubby.

I crawled out of my chair and sat on the floor next to D.J., my hand now firmly gripped in his. His nearness calmed me. A little. Until the next peal of thunder. . .and the next.

After what felt like an eternity, the winds seemed to die down a bit. The racket from the living room calmed, too. In my mind’s eye I pictured the large glass windows shattered top to bottom and a living room filled with patio tables. Still, I wasn’t going out there to see it all firsthand. Not yet.

When things grew quieter, I heard Ling’s voice from her seat near me. “This is
your
doing, Bella.”

“W-What?” I spoke from the darkness. “You’re blaming a tropical storm—er, hurricane—on me?”

“Yes. That day we met for lunch at Moody Gardens you told me that something would happen to make our families bond.” She turned on her phone’s flashlight and pointed the little beam of light at her mother and Mrs. Pappas, who sat next to each other, hand in hand. Then she shifted the beam to her father and Mr. Pappas, who’d taken up residence in the bathtub. Together. Rub-a-dub-dub. Two fathers-in-law in a tub.

“Well, yes, I did say
something
would happen to cause them to bond,” I explained. “But I didn’t mean a hurricane. You can’t blame this on me!”

“Not
blaming
you.” The level of her voice rose as the winds outside began to shriek once again. “
Thanking
you.”

“You’re thanking her for the storm?” Mrs. Pappas asked.

“No, I’m thanking God for the storm,” Ling explained. “I’m thanking Bella for reminding me that every situation in life, good or bad, can be used as a teaching tool. She gestured around the room. “This. . .is a teaching tool. And one day we’ll look back on it to discover that our worlds changed this very night.”

Indeed. Though I wasn’t completely sure what lesson we could learn from the fellows in the tub.

At that very moment a peal of thunder shook the room and Mrs. Nguyen let out a shriek.

“Are you okay,
M
á
?” Ling asked.

“I. . .I think so.” Mrs Nguyen’s voice trembled. “Hahn, are you all right?”

At first we heard no response from Mr. Nguyen. A wave of panic washed over me as I pictured him in the bathtub, slumped over from a heart attack.

Finally, we heard a gentle snore.

“Hahn!” Mrs. Nguyen’s volume rose. “Are you actually asleep in that bathtub?”

“W-What?” His groggy voice gave away his little secret.

Darian let out a raucous belly laugh and Ling followed. Before long, everyone was laughing and talking. Until the thunder hit once more.

“I just can’t believe you could sleep in the middle of a storm,” Mrs. Nguyen said. “Someone has to stay up and worry.”

“No, someone has to stay up and
pray
,” Pastor Lindsey said. “And that person would be me. So, bow your heads, everyone. I have to come up with a really good hurricane prayer, guaranteed to blow those winds right back out to sea.”

“Actually, the storm is headed north to Houston,” D.J. explained. “From what I just saw on my phone.”

I didn’t really care where it was headed, as long as my parents’ home wasn’t in the line of fire.

Pastor Lindsey prayed a “Take thee back to sea” prayer. The Greek Orthodox priest took it from there, reciting something in his native tongue that caused Mr. Pappas to rouse from a state of near-slumber for a groggy, “Amen!” Then the Vietnamese pastor added his words of prayer, the staccato words sounding more like the rain pellets landing on the wall outside.

Afterwards, the lights popped back on.

“Well, there you go.” Mr. Pappas yawned and stretched, then rose to get out of the bathtub. “It took the prayers of all parties to stop the storm. Amen and amen.”

“It took all of us getting along to stop the storm,” Darian said. “But I guess that’s a moot point now.”

We helped the older ones to their feet and went into the living room to assess the damage. One of the large panes of glass had cracked down the middle, but the others remained intact. And, except for the patio tables, which had somehow come loose from the deck and landed upright in the sand, the back yard didn’t appear to have sustained any permanent damage. Plenty of debris from the beach had washed up to cover the deck, side-to-side. My goodness, would we ever have a job on our hands to clean up this mess!

“Oh, my poor wedding venue.” Ling walked over to the broken window, but Darian took her hand and pulled her back.

“Careful. Cracked glass.”

“I know, but. . .” She began to cry, tiny little cries at first, but then gut-wrenching sobs. “Our. Wedding. Is. Ruined!”

“Your wedding is not ruined!” I flew into wedding coordinator gear right away. In a few days this window will be replaced, the patio furniture will be back in order, and the deck will be cleaned and the vendors will have worked their magic, filling the whole place with gorgeous tables, chairs and centerpieces. The temperatures will be calmer, the people will be braver, and the storm will be completely behind us.”

“You think?” She sniffled as she looked my way.

In that moment, I put on my best wedding coordinator face.

“I
know
. Just trust me, Ling. We’re going to work together as a team and pull off a beach-themed wedding like no one’s ever seen. We’ll do it because you and Darian are worth it. You are loved, you are
in
love, and you are going to have the best wedding this island has ever seen.”

“If anyone deserves it. . .” Grandpa Nguyen’s voice sounded from behind me. “My granddaughter does. This girl is our legacy, the one we adore. So listen to me, Ling. You will have your day. I will make sure of it.”

“Listen to your grandfather, Ling,” I said.

“Yes, listen to me. I have something to say.” He eased his way down onto the plush sofa and we all gathered around him. “Our Ling is living the American dream, and we all get to participate. I can think of nothing finer, not after all I went through to get here. This is all I’ve ever hoped for, for my family, to carry on the Nguyen legacy in this new land where opportunities abound.”

Wow. For a guy who rarely spoke, he’d shared a lot, and straight from the heart.

“Mr. Nguyen, how long have you lived in Galveston? I asked after a moment’s pause.

For a moment, the elderly man’s eyes clouded over and I wished I hadn’t posed the question. It appeared to bring some sort of pain, if such a thing could be judged by a man’s expression. After a moment or two of awkward silence, he looked my way. “I did not come to Galveston by choice, Mrs. Neeley.”

“Did
any
of us?” D.J. nudged me with his elbow. Then, after seeing my “Watch it!” expression, he shrugged and added, “Just saying.”

“When Saigon fell to the North Vietnamese in the 70s, everything I knew changed in a moment.” These words from the usually quiet grandfather brought an eerie silence to the room. Everyone looked his way, as if anticipating his next words. “Back in those days, thousands of us fled from Vietnam to save our lives. We had no time to say proper goodbyes. We just. . .fled.”

Man. Now I really wished I hadn’t asked him to relive this journey.

“Texas wouldn’t have been my first choice,” he added. “Not many of my people here at the time, mostly servicemen’s wives. But we had no choice. My wife and I were young and Hahn Jr. was just a boy, only ten years old.” He pointed to Ling’s father. “I feared for his future.”

Whoa. The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop.

“We were taken to Arkansas when we first arrived in ‘79,” he explained. “From there, many of us headed west to Texas. Most of us were well educated and familiar with American ways. We knew of Texas, of course, through the television show
Dallas
.”

“Who shot J.R.?” Mr. Pappas said. “Loved that show.”

“Did we ever really figure out
who
shot J.R?” Mrs. Pappas asked. “I mean, I know they said it was Kristin, but was it really? I always suspected Sue Ellen.”

“Mama, that’s irrelevant.” Darian rolled his eyes then turned his attention to Grandpa Nguyen. “What happened next?”

“We were bussed to Houston, and that’s where we first came to know about Galveston Island. We were told there were jobs here. My wife and I, along with our son, were among the first Vietnamese citizens in Galveston in 1979.”

“And you were welcomed with open arms, no doubt,” Mrs. Pappas offered a comforting smile. “Galvestonians are so kind.”

“Hardly.” Grandpa Nguyen shook his head and I saw a hint of tears in his eyes. “After all my training as a doctor in our own country, I was turned away from even the most menial of jobs. So, I did the one thing that made sense. I’d been raised a fisherman’s son, so I headed out to sea. Used what little money I had to buy a boat, and started my own fishing company.”

“He grew it into the largest deep sea fishing company on the island,” Ling’s father said with a smile. “Quite a feat.”

“And raised the smartest boy on the island,” Grandpa Nguyen added. He turned to give his son an admiring look. “I never regretting coming to Texas. Well, after the first couple years, anyway. My son—and his wife and daughter—have had a life of opportunity we would never have known otherwise.”