15

Sweet Home Thank You Fest & Chili Cook-Off

November

Garrett had told her that he loved her last month. They’d spent almost every day together since then and were getting into a routine. Her family loved him almost as much as she did. As for his family, well, the Hearths had issues to deal with in their own lives. But she and Garrett prayed for them and tried to reach them in any way they could. Gabriel was one tough hombre, and the others lived so far off. Still, Micara had faith the Hearth family would be restored. She didn’t want to meddle too much and risk making things worse, as she had with the development situation.

Life drifted along for the residents of Sweet Home. More and more heavy construction plodded underway. Nobody knew what would happen, but they hoped for the best. The restaurants and RV park benefitted from the presence of construction crews. They brought revenue to the sleepy town.

Even the Thank You Fest was bigger and better than usual. More people packed the streets downtown. More vendors lined the route, more food, more live music. The changes in town brought both good and bad.

The biggest changes Micara had seen came from within. She’d changed from a person of remarkable faith who’d wanted a certain outcome, her way, to a person of remarkable faith who was more willing to trust in God’s plan.

Garrett had changed, too. He now trusted that everyone had a purpose, even when that purpose wasn’t what they expected. He was working hard to write his childhood stories into a young adult series. Writing was his true calling, and he realized that now, as he’d told Micara.

“Oh, look, it’s Hank and Joy.” Micara pointed at the couple walking hand-in-hand toward them. When they met, Micara hugged her friend.

The sparkle had returned to Joy’s eyes since she and Hank reunited. Hank had agreed to go public, and they’d been blissful ever since.

Micara loved seeing them both so chipper. The expressions on their faces now match their jubilant sense of style, Joy with her chunky jewelry and wild patterns and Hank with his flashy ties. “Have y’all had lunch?” she asked.

“We were just about to get something.” Joy glanced at Hank, who nodded.

“That booth has the best chili this year, in my opinion.” Micara pointed. “And it’s for charity. All profits benefit the Angel Tree at the bank. Y’all wanna get a bowl and join us for lunch?”

Hank and Joy again nodded at each other for approval. “Sounds delicious. Let’s do it.”

The four of them moseyed to the booth and purchased bowls of chili and cups of sweet tea, which came with a raffle ticket for one of MeMaw’s homemade quilts—a paneled one that illustrated the history of Sweet Home. They took their food to a grassy picnic area shaded by large oak trees. A cool but pleasant breeze moved the air a bit.

“Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, this is good eatin’!” Hank tucked his napkin into the front of his shirt. “That ole’ Rip Terrell sure can cook a pot of chili. It’s no competition.”

The other three, mouths full, nodded in agreement.

Minutes later, Hank spoke again. “So Micara, tell us what’s going on with you. What’s new?”

She stirred her chili. “We’ve hit a rough patch, but we’re pushing through.”

“Oh, no. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Concern laced Joy’s soft voice.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the people next to my grandmother sold their land. Construction has started already, and pretty soon, there will be a strip mall right next door. There’s already a steady stream of noise and traffic and dust. These people work so fast. It seems like the construction doubles every month. We’re managing the best we can.”

Garrett patted her hand. “In the meantime, we’re working on a Plan B. Micara told me once that having a Plan B is a good idea.” He winked at her, and her heart swelled. Plans for moving his parents’ tree to his property were underway, but widening the road had been delayed, so they had plenty of time now.

“Yes, it’s always beneficial to have a Plan B.” Hank nodded and wiped a dribble of chili off his chin. “Shows you’re flexible and open to other ideas. It also increases your success rate two-fold. And how about you, Garrett?” He and Joy turned their attention to Garrett.

“I have good news and bad news.”

“That’s usually how it works. Let’s hear it.”

“The good news is that I finished plotting out two novels in my young adult series. The bad news is that I’ve hit a snag with the actual writing. Just because the books are for kids, doesn’t make them any easier to write. Man, it’s frustrating.”

Joy sent him a sympathetic look. “Of course it is, but you hang in there. You’ll find your groove, and then those books will write themselves.”

“Writing is my purpose, and I’m not giving up.” He held up his glass of iced tea for a toast. “To success and happiness.”

“Success and happiness.” They touched their paper cups.

“Speaking of success.” Hank sloshed his drink, and a few drops spilled onto the picnic table when he set it down. “How about that football team of yours? It’s been a fantastic season. I’ve meant to call you into my office and congratulate you personally, but there’s been a lot happening at the school. I do appreciate everything you do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes. That means a lot to hear that from you.”

“Are you ready to finish up another season?”

“I’m ecstatic to be in the playoffs. It’s been a long, but fruitful season. But I’m not ready for it to end. I’d like to see the team win at State.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Joy started gathering their empty bowls, a huge smile on her face.

Garrett nodded. “In a couple of weeks, we’ll see. And the team looks exceptional. Next year will be weird without Matthew, but I believe in the new crop of talented boys coming up.”

“That’s wonderful. Glad to hear it. How’s Matthew handling everything since his father died?”

“Remarkably well. He’s all set for college next fall. Micara and I are already planning to get season tickets. So we’ll be busy every Saturday next year.”

Micara let out a deep breath and nodded her head. Attending sporting events was something she’d never done before meeting Garrett. She might never enjoy watching the game as much as she enjoyed visiting with friends and watching the cheerleaders and the half-time show, but it was a start. Each game for the rest of this season could be the last, so Garrett had made sure she would be in attendance every time.

“No plans, no working late. It’s the playoffs, and I want you there,” he’d told her.

Of course, she would be there. She wouldn’t miss a game for the world.

~*~

The stadium busted at the seams with fans of all ages.

“Micara, over here.” Joy and Hank occupied seats on the fifty-yard line and about halfway up. They had quite a setup with seat cushions, blankets, and a cooler. Everything was red and white. Like a little house in the stands. “We saved you a seat.”

She waved back and smiled and then turned to her family, who had insisted on coming tonight, even though the weather had turned cold.

“MeMaw, do you want to sit with Joy and Hank?” MeMaw didn’t like football or crowds or late nights. She made an exception for her booth, but to attend for the fun of it… Micara didn’t know why her grandmother had even wanted to forego a night of sales to watch this game. Maybe she wanted to show support for Garrett, too.

Micara’s mom liked football—could do without crowds, but was always ready for a night out with friends. “If you’re going to the game, then I am, too.” Her earlier words didn’t make sense because Micara attended every game, and her mother had never insisted on tagging along. But here they were, the three of them. And Hank and Joy just happened to save three seats. Perfect.

“Yes, let’s sit with them,” MeMaw answered after a quick survey of the bench seats. She was particular about where she sat, not too high, not too low, not too far left or right, but not dead center either. She didn’t like to sit under an air vent or near anyone who smoked. Picky, picky, picky.

Dressed in red sweatshirts and jeans, the three ladies edged sideways through the row of Eagles fans. Making way for them was a challenge for people with babies, food, and long legs. Some of the men had to stand. All the kids had to do was draw up onto the seat.

After a round of excuse me’s, they were situated on the cold, metal bleachers. The field was empty. Garrett was nowhere in sight, but it was early. The cheerleaders situated their equipment on the sidelines, and the band members made their way to a special section in the stands.

Micara had never cheered or been the athletic type. Music was her thing back then, and she had played in the band. On Friday nights, she’d taken her seat in the stands and played her heart out. As if on cue with her thoughts, the band started warming up. The toot of horns and bang of drums filled the night air. The flute section practiced two eight-counts of the school fight song.

The crowd took that as their cue to scurry to their seats.

Micara checked her watch—still ten minutes before seven. Not long now.

When the band played the first notes of the National Anthem, it startled her. Was her watch slow? After observing a moment of silence, the crowd sat. Then the cheerleaders walked onto the field carrying a large banner. Once they reached a certain point, Micara could no longer see over the people standing in front of her. She took her seat, knowing the football team would soon run through the large paper banner, and the game would begin. She’d be able to see once they settled down.

“Looks like the cheerleaders are ready to welcome the Eagles onto the field.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the loud speakers. “Let’s get up and show them our support.”

The few fans not already on their feet stood and started clapping along with the rest. Some made claws with their fingers and yelled, “Eagles! Eagles! Eagles!” Friday night in all its glory.

Micara’s senses were in overdrive.

Then as suddenly as it began, a hush rushed over the crowd. The fans quieted only when there was an injured player on the field, but the team hadn’t come out yet. Heads turned, searching the crowd for something or someone.

Micara furrowed her brow. Sometimes it was frustrating to be so short. She felt as if she were the last to know what was going on. “Mom, I can’t see. What’s going on?”

Her mother’s eyes glistened with tears. “Stand up, Micara. Stand up.” She tugged on her daughter’s arm.

Micara stood, but she still couldn’t see anything except the backs of people’s heads. She craned her neck this way and that. “What is it?” Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up on top of her seat and put her hand on her mother’s shoulder for balance.

And then she saw it.

The giant banner the cheerleaders held up, the one that normally read EAGLES in red letters, now had four words written across its length: WILL YOU MARRY ME?

The announcer’s voice faded into the background. “Folks, it looks like we’re in for a whopping surprise tonight. I wonder who this message is for?”

Micara almost tumbled out of the stadium seat. Her hands shook, so she climbed down with the help of her mother. Surely not. She had to be sure before she let herself react, so she edged sideways out of the seating area and into the aisle. She waited. A quick glance around showed her more confused people than she’d seen in her life.

A fleet of football players in red jerseys ran out of the field house like usual but stopped short of the banner. Instead of busting through it, they stepped back and parted the way, half the team lining one side and half to the other.

At the end of the football version of an honor guard stood a single person in a red golf shirt.

Garrett.

Her eyes filled with tears. The message was for her.

Her feelings for Garrett were strong, but until this moment, she hadn’t thought about marrying him. Now he was proposing, and she knew she couldn’t live without him.

Heads turned her way, and the chatter in the stands grew louder and more excited. Word traveled fast in a small town, and it traveled even faster at sporting events. She descended the stairs one by one and with each step, her tummy flip-flopped. When she reached the railing, Garrett signaled a couple of players who ran ahead of him and presented her with a bouquet of blue delphiniums and pink alstroemerias. Blue delphiniums symbolized the heart’s attachment, and alstroemerias symbolized the growth of friendship. They were her two absolute favorite flowers, but how could he have known?

Her mother.

On occasion, Mom had helped with various landscape projects and was familiar with lots of flowers and their meanings. Her mom also knew which ones were Micara’s favorites. She had a hunch her mother and grandmother knew about this evening.

And the three seats Joy and Hank saved? Not a coincidence.

Garrett walked past the banner, strode across the field, and marched right up to the fence. He pointed straight at Micara and then curled his finger, giving her the ‘come here’ signal. Those near her started chanting, “Go! Go! Go!”

She rushed down the stairs, asked a friend to hold her flowers, and climbed over the fence with ease. The crowd cheered her on, making her grin…but a little nervous, too.

A quick glance up and she saw her mother and grandmother smiling and embracing each other. Her mother was crying.

Garrett gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

“Is this for real?” Her heart was near bursting.

He smiled. His hands shook, too. Still, he managed to work through the tremors to retrieve a ring box from his pocket. He opened it with a snap. “If you’ll have me. Otherwise, it’s just for practice, and I’ll try harder next time.”

She laughed. This proposal had taken a lot of guts. But it suited Garrett Hearth. He was a man who pulled out all the stops in every aspect of his life. He sprinted after what he wanted with all his heart. That was the thing she loved about him the most.

Loved?

Yes, loved. She did love him. She loved everything about him. She loved his strengths and his weaknesses, but she especially loved that they would get to learn and grow in faith together. Like the alstroemerias that started out upside down and then twisted and turned several times before blooming beautifully upright, the two of them both had their share of bumps in the road. Faith fed their roots, and their faith saw them through.

“So will you marry me?” He spoke the words on the banner. Like an assembly line, onlookers passed them on to those in the top of the stands. Then the entire crowd held their breath and waited for her answer.

“Yes!” She couldn’t hold back the tears.

Garrett slipped the ring on her finger and then swooped her up into his arms.

She had a split second of concern for his leg, but the roaring crowd drowned out her thoughts.

Some middle school boys ran through the stands like heralds yelling, “She said yes! She said yes!”

The crowd’s cheering and stomping shook the stands. It was better than a winning touchdown with seconds left on the clock, a hole in one on a par three, or a half-court basket just as the buzzer sounded. Micara had learned about those sporty winning plays under Garrett’s tutelage.

And now, Micara and Garrett had played the game of love and won.

Her mind spun. The warmth of Garrett’s body next to hers as he held her in the air made her heart take flight. When he set her down, he didn’t let go. She said a prayer that he never would. She wanted him to hold her forever.

Through the cheering crowd, Brent appeared at Garrett’s side. Jayanne followed close behind. He was still networking in town, trying to get his hands on a large chunk of land. Attending football games and other community events was a normal thing for him now.

“Congratulations, man.” He actually smiled.

Garrett extended a hand, and Brent accepted it.

Micara was pleased to see them shake hands. What a fitting ending for the two men who had been close friends for so long to make amends on the football field that had torn them apart. The same football field where one future had ended had now played host to the start of a new future.

~*~

Same old Sweet Home High. Another football season had concluded, and now the world focused on basketball.

Garrett liked this time of year, watching the leaves fall and enjoying the cold temperatures. A good chance still remained that he could wear shorts on Christmas day…or it might be cold enough for a jacket. One just never knew in Texas. His field was still green, though, and in the morning, the dew glittered like millions of diamonds.

He still found it amazing that he and Micara were engaged. Folks still chattered about his lavish proposal. Even Gabriel bragged about how brave his little brother had been to pull a stunt like that. Good ole’ Gabriel. He’d known God was at work in Garrett’s life the day he’d overheard him and Micara praying. And when Garrett changed his mind about selling his land, Gabriel started coming around again. No sappy apologies or hugs that lasted more than three seconds, but Garrett knew his brother had forgiven him and that their relationship would eventually be the way it should be.

He still didn’t know why his football dream ended with a catastrophic injury. But he knew that somehow it figured into God’s greater plan. A little pain still pricked his heart now and then, and a lot of what-ifs needled his mind. But he was determined to live again and make the most of what he had been given.

So much love and happiness filled his life now that he’d opened his eyes and his heart. Until Micara came along, he’d shut out an entire community of people who loved and cared about him. Now they were right there waiting for him. What a joy it had been to get to know them again. This old town still had a lot of life left in it.

He turned off the lights in the field house and locked the doors. Time to go home. He had a couple of hours to wind down from a long day at work, and then he’d get dressed for dinner with his leading lady.

He couldn’t wait.

~*~

He knocked on the front door. Gabriel and his nephew, Slade, stood beside him, and Garrett was well aware that getting either of them to come was a miracle. The front porch was covered with potted plants, mulch, fertilizer, and a host of gardening tools. Micara was in the middle of gathering materials for a huge community project that would bring in enough money to pay for their upcoming wedding. He’d pay for the honeymoon. Maybe not the traditional way of handling the wedding planning, but it worked for them.

“Just wait until she turns your garage into a home base for her landscaping business,” Gabriel teased.

Garrett smiled and gave a rueful shake of his head. He knew what he was getting into. With Micara in his life, nothing would ever be the same. But God had brought them together, and He didn’t make mistakes.

“Hey, Garrett!” Micara greeted him with a hug that almost knocked him backward. “Hi, Gabriel. Glad you could come.”

Her house was exactly the same as the last time he’d been here—right down to the empty glass still sitting on the third shelf in the living room. He’d grown to love these three forgetful women. In the back room, the television was set to the country music video channel, with the volume just loud enough to be heard in the quiet living room.

The delicious smell of cake wafted in from the kitchen. Several wrapped presents sat on the table. Micara had been unwilling to let his birthday go by uncelebrated, even though it was so close to Christmas.

He managed a fake frown. “I told you not to get me anything and save your money for the wedding.”

Boy, did she ever have that coy look down pat. And batting those long lashes at him sealed the deal. She would win every argument for the rest of their lives. And she knew it. “I couldn’t help it. I didn’t spend much money, I promise. The others are from Mom and MeMaw. They didn’t have orders not to get you anything. Y’all make yourselves at home. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

~*~

Micara had worked hard to make this a special day for Garrett. Her excitement at having their first birthday celebration as a couple had kept her wound up all day. She’d baked his favorite pecan pie cake, and managed to get her hands on a wonderful gift he was sure to love.

“Happy Birthday, Garrett!” MeMaw called out.

“How young are you, Garrett?” Mom entered the living room, and the two women fawned over their future son and grandson-in-law. They took considerable pride in the task.

Garrett handled it well, even seemed to like the attention.

“Twenty-nine,” he answered.

“Yeah, we’ve heard that one before.” MeMaw’s joke was delivered with a pair of hiked eyebrows. “Now come have a piece of cake before y’all head out.” She strolled to the kitchen. MeMaw cut the cake and served it on paper plates with footballs on them.

Micara thought it was a cute touch. The cake, served with tall glasses of milk, had turned out delicious.

Garrett opened MeMaw’s present first.

He tore at the paper, and they laughed at his enthusiasm.

“A quilt. MeMaw, it’s perfect.” He ran his hand over the red and white squares. The patchwork eagle in the center had taken Micara’s grandmother forever to complete. “Thank you, MeMaw.”

Mom’s gift was in a bag with colorful tissue paper. Garrett dug around in the paper before he drew out the prize. “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Thank you. Shakespeare is one of my favorites. Y’all did good.”

Handing him a teeny box, Micara bounced on the balls of her feet. “Open mine! Open mine!”

He shook it. It made a jangling sound, which prompted a raised eyebrow. Squeezed it. Nothing. Then he started peeling the wrapping paper, in deliberate slow motion.

“Aaaah! Are you trying to drive me nuts? Open it already!”

A mischievous grin spread across his face. He continued his slow process of removing the paper, layer by layer.

Micara couldn’t take it anymore. She reached out and tore away the paper, then lifted the lid of the box. She pulled out her car keys and dangled them in front of his face.

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to one side. His voice was low and confused. “Are you giving me your car?”

“No, silly. I have to take you to your present because I can’t bring your present to you.”

~*~

Garrett couldn’t miss it when they pulled up to his property.

The giant tree stood like a monument, its branches stretching up and out. His parents’ tree, in all its glory.

He stared in utter disbelief. Slowly, he stood, not bothering to shut the car door. He approached the tree and craned his head back, so he could see all the way to the top.

“It may not make it. Only time will tell.” Micara watched his every move. “My arborist friend did everything he could to preserve it.” Her eyes reflected a deep care and concern. Micara was fighting for the life of this tree as much as he was. She drew close.

His heart flip-flopped as her arms came around his waist and pulled him into a loving embrace. No matter how many times she held his hand or hugged him or kissed him, that same fluttering swooped down on him. How blessed he was to have this woman in his life. He cradled her face in his hands. Her eyes glistened like parched earth after a welcome rain. “I love you, Micara Lee.”

Then he lowered his lips to hers. Anything else that needed said he could say with a kiss.