A city is a place where there is no need to wait for next week to get the answer to a question, to taste the food of any country, to find new voices to listen to and familiar ones to listen to again.
Margaret Mead
By the time the sun had fully gone down, Brady and I had finally managed to sneak away from the crowd and have some alone time. With Madge and Dahlia’s help, I managed to change out of my wedding gown in the restroom and back into my jeans. Dahlia went on and on about the photo shoot, then helped me get my dress onto a hanger and back into a zipper bag.
“Can I ask you a question?” She looped the bag over her arm, fussed with it for a moment, and then passed it to me.
“Sure.” I did my best to juggle the bag so as not to harm the gown inside.
“You two weren’t acting out there, were you? I mean, I’ve known Brady for years and I’ve never seen this side of him before.”
I shook my head and draped the bag over my left arm. “I honestly don’t know how to answer that question.” Little giggles followed.
“Oh, girl . . .” Madge shook her head. “You can’t deny the obvious. And maybe it’s not as complicated as you’ve made it. Maybe it’s very, very simple.” She walked out of the restroom, carrying on about how life was just like that—full of surprises.
It was full of surprises, for sure. I couldn’t help but smile all the way back to the store, where I left the dress so that it could be cleaned. Brady and I said our goodbyes—very generic, since we happened to be in front of the ladies at the shop—and I headed off to Aunt Alva’s house. She peppered me with questions. When I couldn’t answer them without blushing, she pursed her lips and smiled.
“I see how it is.”
Yep. She saw, all right.
I hated to ruin anyone’s good mood, but I needed to talk to her about Queenie’s party. After I explained that I would be leaving for Fairfield on Friday afternoon, she wrinkled her nose.
“I’ll miss you, girlie. I’m getting used to having you around.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” I said. “You don’t have to miss me at all, Aunt Alva. Come with me.”
“To Fairfield?” Her eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Over my dead body.”
“It’s time, Alva. You should come. It’s Queenie’s birthday.”
“I know when my own sister’s birthday is.” She released a sigh. “But no thank you. You go on and have a good time. I’ll be here waiting when you get back. Maybe I’ll paint the guest room while you’re gone.” She went off on a tangent about how she’d been thinking of painting that room a lovely shade of rose, but I knew she was just avoiding the obvious. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe this wasn’t God’s perfect timing to take Alva home again. Oh well.
I tumbled into bed that night, the scenes from the photo shoot still fresh on my mind and the scent of Brady’s cologne lingering in my imagination. I replayed that awesome moment when he’d given me such a sweet little kiss on the forehead, then that lovely point where his lips had touched mine. Who would have guessed the day would go the way it had, and yet . . .
I slept, dreaming of Brady, then awoke all smiles. I thought of him all day Thursday, though I didn’t see him once, since Alva and I spent the day resting. I replayed the moment of our kiss over and over as I slept Thursday night and awoke Friday morning in a joyous mood. In fact, I kept on smiling until noon, when Lori-Lou called to tell me that she and Josh had been approved for the house and had a lot of packing to do.
“You sound out of breath, Katie,” she said.
“Oh, I’m just putting my suitcase into my car. Going home for Queenie’s party. You coming?”
“No.” Lori-Lou sighed. “Josh is working extra hours, so I’d be by myself with the kids.”
“I could help.”
“You’re sweet, but it’s too much to handle if he’s not with me. Besides, we’re down to one car right now. Mine still isn’t working. Before you go, though, I need to talk to you about something.”
“What’s that?” I hefted my suitcase into the backseat.
“Did you know that Casey’s back home?”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. “Casey’s back home?”
“Yeah. Beau called Josh yesterday.”
“Casey’s in Fairfield?”
“I think maybe he didn’t like the job in Tulsa? Or maybe it wasn’t a good fit? I don’t know. I just know he’s back home. Beau said that everyone’s walking on eggshells around him.”
Casey. Back home. Crazy.
My heart flip-flopped all over the place at this news. I vacillated between anger, hopefulness, and a variety of other emotions that ping-ponged around my heart. Most of all I wondered why he hadn’t called me.
Then again, why would he? We weren’t a couple anymore, after all.
Lori-Lou went on to ask about the photo shoot, and I told her about the shot of Brady kissing me.
“Wow.” She giggled. “Wow, wow. Now there’s a plot twist. What are you going to do if they choose that one for the cover? Your family is bound to see it. And Casey too, right?”
“He doesn’t read bridal magazines, but I suppose it’s inevitable. Who knows, maybe the people at Texas Bride won’t choose that picture for the cover, right?”
“True. They might want one of you in the dress. By yourself, I mean. But still . . .” Lori-Lou started scolding Mariela for coloring on the walls. She returned breathless. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t ever be sorry about your life, Lori-Lou,” I said. “You’ve got a great life. Great husband. Wonderful children.”
“If you don’t put those colors down right this minute, you’ll never use them again, young lady!” Lori-Lou’s voice faded and then she returned again. “What were you saying?”
“Just saying that life is good. It’s full of twists and turns, but it’s good. And I’m not really worried about the magazine cover. My parents—and Casey—will find out in a couple of months, but I’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“In the meantime, don’t do anything rash.”
“Like appearing on the cover of a national magazine kissing a pro basketball player?”
“I thought you said he was kissing you?”
“Right. I think I kissed him back, though.”
“Hey, no one would blame you. The guy’s great. Tall, handsome, suave, but kind too. And he’s a Christian.”
“And he’s been waiting on the perfect-for-him girl. I heard all about it.”
“Does he realize the perfect-for-him girl still hasn’t quite let go of the not-so-perfect-for-her guy back in Fairfield?”
“I’ve let go of him, trust me.” The truth of those words settled over me. “So, Casey’s really back in Fairfield?”
“Mm-hmm. Just try to avoid him this weekend.”
“Oh, I will.”
I thought about my cousin’s words as I headed back inside. Before leaving, I gave Aunt Alva a hug and tried one last time to talk her into going with me. She shook her head and told me to have a good time.
“But we’re having the party at Sam’s,” I said. “That’s your favorite restaurant, right?”
“You’ll have to eat a double portion of barbecue for me,” she said. “I just can’t do it, honey. Not yet, anyway.”
I wondered when—if ever—she would work up the courage to go back home again. Still, it wasn’t my business.
I made the drive back to Fairfield, a thousand different thoughts flying through my head. Brady. Kissing. Photos. Casey. Newspaper. Mama. WOP-pers. Queenie. Birthday. Alva.
It all rolled together in my brain.
I arrived at Sam’s about twenty minutes early and checked my email on my phone. My heart jumped when I realized Jordan Singer had sent me a link to the photos from Wednesday’s shoot. I clicked the link, and picture after picture greeted me in living Technicolor.
Oh. My. Goodness.
I rolled the window down on my car to keep from getting overheated, then flipped through the pictures, mesmerized by how great the shots were. Hannah and Drew had done a spectacular job of capturing not just the ambience of the setting, not just the amazing Loretta Lynn gown, but the emotions on my face.
And Brady . . .
Whoa. My heart quickened as I saw picture after picture of Brady gazing at me with pure adoration in his eyes. Either the guy was a terrific actor, or . . .
“Katie?”
Mama’s voice came from outside the open window. I minimized the photo on the screen and turned to face her. “Yes?” I did my best to steady my voice. “You scared me.”
“Katie, what was that?” She pointed at my phone. “What were you looking at?”
“Oh, some pictures. Wedding gowns. You know how I am.”
“Well, yes, I know you like wedding dress photos, but that almost looked like . . .” She shook her head. “I could’ve sworn I was looking at a picture of you in that wedding dress. Pull it up again so I can see it. Strangest thing ever.”
Thank goodness I didn’t have time to do that. Queenie pulled into the spot next to us and needed help getting out of her car.
“Why in the world they don’t have more handicapped spots is beyond me. There are never any available, no matter what time of day I come.”
Like she had ever come at a different time.
I noticed that my grandmother was having more trouble with her knee than usual and asked her about it. “Oh, this old thing?” She pointed down. “It gives me fits, but I keep going. I’m still a spring chicken, you know.”
“Well, happy birthday, spring chicken.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“You back for good?” Queenie asked. “Or just home for the weekend?”
“I came home to spend time with you, but I might go back for another week or two.” Or longer. Somehow the thought of spending more time with Brady held me in its grip.
“Guess you heard that you-know-who is back.” Queenie gave me a pensive look.
“Yeah, I heard he was home.” I sighed. “That might be a good reason for me to stay put in Dallas a little longer, if you want the truth of it.”
“You can’t avoid the inevitable forever,” she said. “And I don’t know how in the world you’re handling staying with Lori-Lou. All of those kids would drive me bonkers. How are you managing?”
Oy vey. There it was. The dreaded question. “Well, actually, it’s pretty crowded at Lori-Lou’s place, so I found someone else to stay with.”
“Someone else?” Queenie’s gaze narrowed. “You have other friends in the city?”
“Not friends exactly, Queenie,” I said. “More like . . . family.”
“Family?” She tilted her head and I could read the confusion in her expression. Until the light bulb went on. Then, in an instant, confusion morphed to anger. “Oh no. Tell me you haven’t made amends with Alva.”
“Made amends? Queenie, I never had a falling-out with her. In fact, I’ve never had much of anything to do with her, good or bad.”
“How in the world did you end up at her place, anyway? Did she track you down?”
The timing certainly wasn’t right to tell Queenie the whole story.
“Well, I think it’s time to change the subject.” Queenie squared her shoulders. “We gonna stand out here in the heat or go inside? Where is everyone, anyway?”
Mama gave me a wink. “They’re inside.”
They were inside, all right. The whole Fisher clan was seated at the usual table holding signs that read “Happy birthday, Queenie!”
She shook her head and grumbled that we shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, but her attention was quickly diverted to the three strangers at the table. I was a little diverted too. Looked like my brothers had talked Dahlia, Crystal, and Twiggy into coming to the party.
Oh boy.
Was this going to be fun, or what?