The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek (11 page)

“But the preacher’s sister will probably leave after the wedding and we’d have to start all over,” Birdie stated. Honestly, these women should understand the theory of matchmaking by now. A single woman in town now was worth any number of teachers or ministers who might show up in August.

“Do you have any plans to meet the preacher’s sister?” Winnie said. “She hasn’t been to church. Has she left the parsonage yet?”

The Widows shook their heads.

“That makes it hard to plan,” Blossom agreed.

“She could be really ugly. I believe the coach likes pretty women,” Mercedes said.

“Now, now, ladies. The preacher’s a nice-looking man, even if he is still too skinny.” Birdie tapped her coffee cup as she considered her words. “She’s not going to be ugly. Skinny for a woman is fashionable.”

“How will we find out?” Blossom asked softly.

They all thought.

“You know,” Winnie said, “Yvonne’s in and out of the parsonage all the time. She could tell us a lot.”

“She won’t. Says it’s family and personal,” Blossom said. “But maybe she could suggest how we could get inside.”

For a moment Birdie regretted her hasty decision to dismiss Gussie’s mother. “I’m sorry, ladies. I shouldn’t have sent Yvonne away.” She looked around the group. “Blossom, you two are friends. Why don’t you see what the two of you can work out about getting into the parsonage unobtrusively, maybe setting up a private moment between our future lovebirds.”

Blossom smiled and clapped her plump little hands together. “Of course. We’ll have fun planning that.”

The same afternoon, Gussie sat on the sofa in the living room of the parsonage as her mother bustled around the kitchen. Gussie had no idea what her mother was doing, because bustling around the kitchen was one of Yvonne’s favorite activities and filled much of the day. Smelled as if she’d put cookies in the oven. Snickerdoodles, Gussie guessed from the cinnamon aroma.

A diabetic, Yvonne figured if she couldn’t eat them, she could make cookies for others. She had a great deal more self-control than Gussie.

Adam had left the parsonage at nine to make a hospital call, then spent the morning at the church working on his sermon before he came home for lunch. Gussie had several books but couldn’t concentrate on any of them. She considered taking a walk or weeding the garden but knew those actions only put off what she did not want to do.

She had to call her best friend, the one who’d supported her during the hardest weeks and months of her life, who’d always encouraged and loved her. She hoped Clare would be happy about the engagement, but a tiny part of her feared the reaction.

She flipped her phone open and pressed Clare’s number.

“I’m getting married,” Gussie said when Clare answered.

On the other end of the phone, silence.

“Did you hear me?” she asked. “Adam and I are engaged.”

“Are you sure, Gussie?” Clare laced the words with concern. “Are you rushing into this?”

“Adam and I started seeing each other six or seven months ago.” She really should know the exact number. Didn’t women usually remember how long they’d been dating a man? Have monthly anniversaries?

“You can’t say you’ve been dating for that long because you haven’t. Sure, you started going out with him last summer, but you broke up with him because you weren’t ready. You’ve only been together again for two or three months.”

Gussie blinked and attempted to answer but the words piled up in her throat as she pondered what her friend had said. She’d held her feelings and hurts inside for so long, she struggled to find a way to describe the joy that had taken over her life.

“Gus? Are you there? I love you. I want you to be sure, very sure.”

“I am sure, very sure. Be happy for me.”

“All right!” Clare squealed. “Do I get to be in the wedding?”

“We haven’t set a date.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, tossing about ideas for the wedding until, as usual, the discussion turned to news about Clare’s children and Gussie’s parents. Finally, Clare said, “Gotta go. Suspicious noises coming from the kitchen.”

With that, Gussie turned off the phone, leaned back in the sofa, and closed her eyes, the better to savor her happiness. A few minutes of savoring later, she felt a weight—a slight weight—settle on the other end of the couch. She opened her eyes and glanced over. Hannah sat a foot away, studying her.

Gussie didn’t know how to react to Adam’s sister. Her fiancé—oh, she loved the sound of that word and rolled it around in her brain for a moment—her fiancé had told her about Hannah’s drive and her life of achievement as well as what Hannah perceived as her ignominious return to the States.

Right now, Hannah glared at her. What had Gussie done to deserve that? She stopped herself from scurrying away from her future sister-in-law. Warily, she smiled.

Hannah didn’t.

For nearly a minute, Hannah kept her gaze on Gussie while Gussie attempted to figure out the problem and how she could react. She became more uncomfortable with every second that ticked by.

Finally Hannah spoke in a low, almost menacing voice. “I love my little brother. He’s one of the best people on the earth.”

Gussie nodded.

“I don’t want him hurt.” After several seconds passed, Hannah said, “Do you love him?”

Gussie nodded again.

“Are you going to make him happy?”

“I’m going to try.” Obviously not the right response. For a second, she thought Hannah would quote Yoda: “There is no try…” Well, Gussie could never remember exactly how that went. So she smiled again. “Of course I will.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy Hannah, either. Adam had said she was tough, and now Gussie understood what he meant. No one survived what his sister had faced without being tough. However, Gussie hadn’t realized how focused Hannah was until those dark eyes were fixed on her. She could almost feel them drilling a hole through bone and inside her head straight into the brain. Not a pleasant image but true.

After a moment of deep, focused scrutiny, Hannah nodded and stood. In anyone else, Gussie would have thought that action showed satisfaction. With Hannah, she couldn’t be sure. At this moment, Adam’s sister seemed to have only two expressions: intense and more intense.

As Gussie watched, Hannah pulled out her phone, punched a button, and waited. After several seconds, she said, “Adam, I need to see you.” Then she snapped the phone off and stuck it in her pocket.

Only moments later, Adam sprinted in. He looked first at Gussie, then his sister. Obviously pleased neither was in pain or bleeding, he lifted his eyes toward the kitchen. “Yvonne, are you okay?”

“Of course. Do you want a cookie?”

He stared at his sister. “Why did you call? I thought someone was close to dying.” He turned toward Gussie. “You don’t know this yet, but a call from Hannah usually means death, destruction, and possibly the end of the world.”

Instead of answering, Hannah held out her hand. A set of keys dangled from her fingers. “The SUV outside? That’s yours. Dad bought it for you as a wedding present.”

“What?”

Hannah closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them. “Dad...bought…it…for…”

“I heard you.” He shoved her hand away. “I don’t need a new car.”

“Yes, you do,” both women said in unison.

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need my parents to bail me out.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Hannah said. “Accept it—graciously if possible.”

Before Adam could respond with what Gussie feared might lead to a huge argument, she stood and took his arm. “‘The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.’”

Both Jordans turned to look at her.

“What does that mean?” Adam said.

“Your father cares, he’s being generous. Can’t you accept his gift with equal generosity plus some kindness and gentleness?”

Although those words got his attention, Hannah cut to the core. “The car you have is going to kill you someday, and maybe Gussie and Janey and who knows who else.”

“I…I…” Adam started a sentence that he didn’t complete because Yvonne came into the room and took the arm Gussie hadn’t captured.

“Parents worry. We know you want to support yourself, be independent, but sometimes you have to accept. Your father loves you and…”

Before Yvonne could finish, Hannah, not the most patient of people, broke in. “It’s a wedding present, jerk,” she said, again hitting the center of the controversy.

“But how did he know we were going to get married?”

“He didn’t. Mom did. She guessed that as soon as Gussie moved to Butternut Creek. If it didn’t happen, I could return it to the dealer. That’s the deal he set up.”

“I can’t accept,” Adam began to protest again.

“Be grateful. I talked him out of giving you a gas-guzzling sports car.” She held up the keys again. “This car is big enough to hold a bunch of kids, has pretty good gas mileage and high safety ratings, and is in ministerial black.”

Adam mulled over his sister’s words and Yvonne’s. Stubbornness, pride, and longing warred inside.

“It’s a pretty car,” Gussie said, “Practical and safe.”

Adam had to concede, inside and only to himself, that it did seem like a perfect vehicle, but he wasn’t ready to stop protesting. He had his pride. “I don’t want to depend on my father for a new car.”

Everyone watched him but didn’t say a word. He studied each woman. Yvonne looked hopeful, Gussie smiled, and Hannah dared him to turn it down. He knew the expression well from the Hannah-controls-her-little-brother game. He hated her gloating look of triumph; he’d endured it through his childhood and youth and, actually, through his entire life up to this moment. For that reason, he drew the moment out to deny her that victory for as long as possible.

“Be nice,” Hannah said. “Take the SUV and tell Dad thank you.” She tossed the keys.

He watched their arc through the air. He had no choice but to catch them. To protest more would sound churlish, immature. Besides, if he didn’t catch them, they could crash into something fragile and break it, if he possessed anything fragile and valuable.

As he grabbed the keys, he admitted he really wanted to accept it. He’d admired the SUV. Actually, he coveted it, which made him feel really guilty.

Adam looked at the women again. Gussie and her mother stood on each side of him while Hannah leaned back, crossed her arms in front of her, and clearly challenged him to turn the gift down.

“I can’t afford the insurance,” he said. “That’s probably hundreds of dollars more than I pay now.”

“Part of the gift,” Hannah said. “He’ll pay your insurance for five years and he’ll pay for your mechanic to fix your old car so Hector can drive it. Safely. Since he’s paying, you might as well get a paint job for it.”

They’d thought of everything. He shrugged and attempted to hide a smile at the thought of having a safe car, a car that didn’t break down every week or so, a car with air-conditioning that didn’t involve shoving a broken window down. A slick, sleek, gorgeous new vehicle. Although his pride warred with the idea of how much Hector needed transportation, he wasn’t ready to give in yet. “I don’t know,” he said.

“You are so full of crap.” Hannah shook her head. “I could always read you. You want that car but you have to protest.”

Problem with his sister. She knew him too well. He glanced at Gussie, who just smiled. She was on to him, too.

“Just accept it,” Yvonne said. “Accept it for me, for an old lady who prefers my grandchildren, God willing they come soon, to ride in a car that won’t endanger their lives.”

“If you all insist…” He drew the words out and stood still because he didn’t want to show how excited the thought of driving this vehicle made him.

“If our insisting means you’ll graciously accept the gift,” Gussie said, “then yes, we insist.”

She’d make a perfect wife, nagging him to do exactly what he wanted to do.

“Okay.” He tossed the keys up in the air and caught them. “Let’s go for a ride.”

The vehicle seemed perfect. No, it
was
perfect, as he’d noticed before. The dark, shiny surface had no nicks or scratches, and paint smoothly covered every inch of the exterior. He rubbed his hands over it. Oh, he’d done the same before, but the car didn’t belong to him when he had. With a click, he unlocked all of the doors and climbed inside to settle on the leather-covered seat.

“It has a heater in the seat,” Hannah said.

Not really necessary in Texas, but his father always wanted every accessory a dealer offered.

He put the key in the ignition and turned it on. A soft purr came from the engine immediately with no grinding. The clock showed the correct time, and he bet the radio worked. It also had a slot for a CD and a plug for an iPod. Those would make Hector happy. Adam couldn’t wait for him to find out they owned it. He’d want to drive it around town, pick up Bobby and Bree.

After he looked around at the gleaming array of dials and buttons, Adam hit the knob to put down the driver’s-side window. It slowly descended, then closed again with a simple touch. After that, merely because he could, he put all the windows down and laughed.

“Seems to have all the fenders and bumpers,” Gussie noted as she circled the SUV. “Mom, why don’t you get in the front with Adam.” She opened the passenger door.

“Oh, no, he’s your fiancé,” Yvonne protested until Gussie had shoved her in place and got in the back with Hannah.

While he adjusted the rearview mirror, he glanced at his sister. She looked smug, savoring her victory. Okay, he didn’t mind that this time.

As he put the car in gear and pulled out of the drive, Adam felt a twinge of guilt, exactly like the one he’d felt when the truck had delivered the new sofa and tables and all the furniture the Widows had rounded up after he arrived in Butternut Creek without even a bed. He shouldn’t like material possessions so much. For a second, he understood why his father enjoyed the luxuries his money provided. Adam had promised himself he’d never feel that way about earthly possessions.

But he did love this vehicle.