Chapter Four

There was a crowd gathered around the big RV parked in front of Mrs. Brown’s house.

I pulled the Wagoneer into my driveway and took a few minutes to watch as the neighbors gawked. It wasn’t like they’d never seen a big RV, but we’ve never had one this nice parked on Free Row. And I couldn’t help but wonder if they were trying to figure out how to steal the wheels.

Free Row was what I affectionately called Broadway Street, which is where I lived. The small ranch homes used to be very nice back in the day. I had fond memories of visiting and staying with my Poppa on this very street and in this very house when he was alive.

Since then and through changing times, Broadway had become home to lower income families that were on commodity cheese, and a few who cheated the system to get on welfare and food stamps when they didn’t need it.

It was a well-known fact that my neighbors weren’t on the higher social ladder nor did they care to climb it.

“Y’all go on and be on your way,” I said and walked around the RV, trying to be as quiet as I could. I didn’t want Finn’s parents to see me in the ugly brown sheriff uniform that was clearly not made to fit a woman’s body. It certainly wasn’t how I wanted them to meet me. “I hope you are neighborly enough to Deputy Vincent’s parents while they are visiting,” I said, more a warning than a polite statement.

There were a few grumbles and mumbles, but they shuffled away.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and flipped through my contacts to call Finn.

“Miss me already?” he asked in his sultry Northern accent.

“Free Row is enthralled with your parent’s RV,” I said and ignored how he answered because it didn’t seem right to talk that way when I was going to tell him about his parents.

“You mean how they’ve got them surrounded?” He laughed. “Mom already called. She said that she felt safer in Chicago.”

“Good golly, are you serious?” I asked and unhooked the gate door leading to my backyard.

Duke took off like a lightning bolt to the far end of the fence to grab his tennis ball. He ran back, dropping it at my feet.

“They’ll be fine. I told them to lock the door and we’d take care of it. I assured them they are harmless,” he told me while I played fetch with Duke. “Did you see them?”

“No. I tried not to make too much noise because I want to look pretty and make a good first impression.” I looked over my shoulder towards the gate when I heard the lock flip up. I waved in Katy Lee Hart and Tibbie Bell, two of my best friends who insisted they come over and get me all gussied up for the big family meeting. “Katy and Tibbie are here. I’ll see you at Mama’s soon.”

“Don’t be late.” Finn was one for punctuality. He didn’t like to be late for anything. “Remember, I love you and that’s all the matters.”

“I love you too,” I clicked off and that weird feeling tugged at my gut.

“What’s wrong?” Katy’s brows furrowed as she looked me over.

She had several plastic dry-cleaning bags over her one arm. She shifted her hips to the side and put her hand in the crease of her thick waistline.

Tibbie was a little bit on the larger size but gorgeous. She had beautiful blonde hair that was parted to the side, falling down her back in loose curls. She was an event planner.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Tibbie’s bright smile reached her hazel eyes with a sparkle. She pulled her long hair around one of her shoulders. “She’s meeting her future in-laws. She’s nervous.”

“In-laws?” I asked and threw Duke’s ball really far one last time before we went inside. “Aren’t we rushing things?”

Not that I didn’t want to get married, I was already married to my job, but it was that I didn’t let myself think too much about the future. I took each day as it came.

“Nope.” Tibbie walked into the kitchen door behind me and threw her purse on the kitchen table, pulling out a notebook. “Your mama’s already got your wedding planner started.”

Tibbie was an event planner and everything down to our weekly Euchre games were planned out.

“She even has the dresses you’d look great in.” She flipped the page open to a hand-drawn bride that looked awful similar to me. The bride had the same honey blonde hair with golden highlights like mine and my green eyes. “That’s one of my faves.” Her shoulders drew up around her ears as her voice had escalated.

“Seriously. The more you feed Mama, the worse she gets. Just get me ready for tonight.” I looked over the table where Katy had laid out the different outfits she’d pulled from her Shabby Trends collection. “Focus on tonight.”

“Personally,” Katy grabbed a long, elbow length, light brown sweater with a loose turtle neck and a darker brown pair of skinny jeans that looked more like slacks. “This is what I thought would go perfect with your hair color. Plus, these are slim fitting and give a little in case you have a little too much cake.”

“Are you referring to my happy fat?” I questioned her.

“Well,” Katy laughed, knowing that was what Mama had called my weight gain since I’d been dating Finn.

Happy fat. Whoever heard a such? Mama claimed we gained weight when we were happy because we’d enjoy food and drink more with the one we love. So what if Finn and I loved to eat good food and wash it down with a beer?

“The three-quarter length sleeves and turtle neck are perfect for the slightly chilly spring night weather.” Tibbie made a good point. “And you better hurry up because I think I just heard the RV rev up.”

The three of us jumped up and ran to the family room, which was in the front of my house. We stared in silence trying to get a good look at Finn’s parents before the drove off.

“Did you get a look at them?” I asked.

“You’ve never seen a picture of them?” Tibbie asked.

“Never. I’ve met his sister and he has a picture of her in his wallet, but there’s no other photos in his house.” I shrugged and ran back into the kitchen, pulling off my uniform and tugging on the clothes.

Katy adjusted all the clothes, putting the seams in all the right places, while Tibbie put makeup on me. I’d never been one to fuss over my appearance. It was simple to throw my straight hair in a ponytail for work and to not wear makeup. Recently, I’d discovered the power of a good lip gloss and mascara for a quick fix when Finn started working at the department. Still…fully fixing my hair and putting on makeup everyday wasn’t in my routine.

“You need a little pop of color for you lips.” Tibbie rolled up the tube, exposing a darker shade of brown. “Here.” She shoved a hand mirror in my face. “You look amazing.”

“Maybe you should rethink your beauty routine every day.” Katy peered around the mirror and smiled. “You really are gorgeous.”

“Are you telling me that makeup makes me gorgeous?” I jutted the mirror towards them.

“You’re naturally pretty, but the makeup is stunning.” Tibbie took a step back and smiled at her masterpiece: me.

“I’ve got to go if I’m going to drive the back roads to beat Finn’s parents.” I pointed to Duke. “Can you please throw some kibble in his bowl and let him out one more time before you leave?” I grabbed my purse and flung it over my shoulder. “Jolee is going to stop by later and let him out on her Meals on Wheels route.”

My true best friend was Jolee Fischer. She owned On the Run Food Truck and also used the truck to deliver meals to the elderly and shut-ins. Mrs. Brown, my neighbor, was a Meals on Wheels recipient. Duke loved Jolee and she loved him. He’d much rather be in her food truck all day than sitting in the office, so he was used to her coming over.

Tibbie and Katy waved me off, shoving me out of the door.

Today was a good time to know all the back roads and short cuts to my childhood home.

There was a bit of relief when I turned into my parent’s driveway and saw no sign of the Vincent’s RV.

Mama was peering out of the living room window that was in the front of the house. When I waved, she drew the curtain shut as if she didn’t see me. She was probably as nervous as I was.

Mama was the typical Southern woman who took pride in her house and all the things she had in it. There was no doubt in my mind she was going to pull out all the stops to impress Finn’s parents.

I wouldn’t even put it past her to have the Sweet Adelines, her local singing group, there to give a small concert. Thankfully, I didn’t see any of their cars, but I still wouldn’t count it out just yet since it was still pretty early in the night.

I walked up to the modest three-bedroom brick ranch and stood under the long-covered porch in the front, looking both ways down the street before I walked into the door.

“Hello,” Mama chirped with delight. She gasped when she truly looked at me and clapped her hands together. “You do love me,” she gushed and walked around the foyer with me in the middle taking a good long look at me.

“Not that I care what they think about my looks, but I didn’t want you to look bad,” I lied. I totally cared what they thought of me or I’d not told Finn how important it was for them to like me.

“Is that my baby?” Dad asked, walking into the foyer.

Unlike my mama, he walked over, towering over me, and gave me a hug.

“Don’t she look beautiful?” Mama gushed with a squeal.

“She always looks beautiful.” Dad’s brown eyes squinted as the smile crossed his lips.

“She looks especially pretty with the makeup and hair fixed and new clothes.” Mama had no idea when to just leave well enough alone. She had to beat it to death.

“Viv, she’s always pretty.” Dad knew that Mama could take anything a little too far. “Let’s just have a good night.”

“I was just sayin’,” she snarled.

“Thank you, Mama.” My brows rose in hopes my response would stop her. “Daddy, I see you’ve been to Tiny Tina’s.”

“Doesn’t it look gooooood?” Mama had a way of drawing out her vowels with her Southern drawl. She racked the edges of Daddy’s freshly dyed black hair that used to be a little more salt and pepper. Now there was no salt to be found. Not even a speck.

“It looks great.” I laughed and jumped around when I heard the rumblings of the diesel RV. “How do I look?” I turned to Mama, my heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Oh dear,” Mama’s smile said it all. Everything she’d been waiting for all her life. Her daughter asking her for fashion advice. “You are nervous, child.”

“How do I look?” I asked with an exhausted sigh.

“Amazing.” She pinched a smile, drew her shoulders back and flung the door open in a big Southern and dramatic way. “Welcome.” She drew her arms wide open.

Over her shoulder, my eyes caught Finn’s and we smiled. I sucked in a deep breath knowing he was here and everything was well with the world. For now.

After Mama did her formal introductions and finally moved over for the Vincent’s to enter the house, we made our way to the back deck where Mama had a bar set up with every sort of cocktail mix you’d think of.

Shelby and Clay Vincent.

Shelby had her hands folded down near her rounded belly. She wore a black mid-calf dress with small white polka dots and a pair of black loafers. Clay wore a button-down shirt, a pair of khakis, and a pair of brown loafers without socks. A very preppy thing to do and I was sure Mama was all over it, which made me think she was for sure going to have Daddy stop wearing socks by this time tomorrow.

Both Finn’s parents had nice thick hair, both grey, which also told me Finn was going to be grey at some point in his older years. Not me. Mama didn’t dare have a grey hair or she’d plucked them out one at a time. Still, Finn’s dad was definitely a silver fox and by the way Mrs. Vincent had a hold of his arm, she knew exactly what she had.

They looked like a Shelby and Clay and I gave them a sweet smile, hankering for that drink to help me get over my nerves. I could feel Shelby’s eyes giving me the so this is what my son has been dating onceover. Not sure if it was a good look, since I’d not learned to read her but fully intended to do so tonight. Instead of pondering on it too long, I decided to leave well enough alone and try to engage in conversation best I could.

Clay had taken dad’s advice and opted for a Kentucky bourbon and coke while Mrs. Vincent picked a red wine from one of Kentucky’s up and coming vineyards. Mama took the time to explain to Mrs. Vincent how the limestone, which made the Kentucky bluegrass so famous, was also what made the grapes for wine in Kentucky so amazing. I wasn’t quite sure if she was serious, but I believed her.

“How do you think it’s going?” Finn cozied up next to me on the outside couch and asked the question I’d been wanting to ask him for the last ten minutes.

“I think they’re getting along and Mama sure is acting her best.” I looked deep into his eyes and smiled, wondering why on earth I’d been so nervous about this night. “How do you think they’re going to feel when they see me outside of all this makeup and fancy clothes?”

“They’re going to love you just like I love you.” Finn’s lips met mine and for a minute we were lost until Mama cried out.

“Children,” she scolded. “We are still your parents. Where are your manners?”

“I think it’s sweet.” Mrs. Vincent said with a refreshing tone. “I love seeing my Finny so happy.”

“Finny?” I drew back and laughed.

“Mom.” Finn shot his mom a look.

“I know you told me not to say anything, but he’s our little Finny.” She winked. I instantly loved her.

She was nothing like Mama. She didn’t try to fix his collar like Mama tried to fluff up the turtleneck on my sweater. When I got up, she tugged the edges of it down over the waist of my pants. Every time I slapped her hand and gave her a look.

“Thank you for calling him Finny in front of me, Mrs. Vincent.” I couldn’t stop from laughing. Finn had turned red and I’d never seen him in such a flutter.

“Shelby, dear. Call me Shelby.” She winked and smiled. Her Northern accent caught her name.

“Supper is ready.” Dad had been making steaks on the grill.

“Supper?” Shelby asked with a laugh.

My head snapped towards Mama. Mama’s face reddened.

“Supper. Your food.” Mama’s tone took a nose dive and fast.

“Dinner, dear,” Clay spoke up and tapped Shelby on the forearm.

“We call dinner, supper. Dinner is lunch to us. It’s a Southern thing.” My shoulders shrugged. A subtle jester for Mama to not go off.

“Yes. It’s Southern. Finn has really been taking to our ways.” Mama repeated, her face softened. “Let’s have dinner now.”

Mama looked at me and I mouthed “thank you” so she’d know I’d noticed the extra mile she’d just taken to reel in her crazy.

“That was a close one,” Finn whispered in my ear from behind after we’d followed our parents into the house. “I was afraid Viv was going to give Mom a lesson in Southernisms, though I did warn Mom how she could be.”

“How she could be?” I flipped around. My brows furrowed when I noticed Preacher Bing had showed up. “What does that mean?”

“You know how your mom can be.” His brows formed a V and I didn’t like his tone. “Preacher Bing,” Finn said after he looked up from our little chat. “What are you doing here?”

“Per Vivian’s request, I’ve come to give the blessing over this fine union.” Preacher Bing’s large forehead crinkled when he smiled. His hair was thin and brown, just like the suit he had on.

My jaw dropped and so did Finn’s. Mama looked between us.

“I’m sure your parents don’t mind.” Mama stood over the kitchen table where all the food had been laid out. “Preacher Bing.” Mama called him over and did some quick introductions. “I do hope you’ll stay for supper after the blessing.”

“I’d love to,” his deep voice started to escalate like it did at the Cottonwood Baptist Church right before he was going to ask the congregation to bow their heads to pray. “Shall we bow our heads?”

Then the shit hit the fan.

Mr. and Mrs. Vincent, like robots, drew their hands up to their heads to do the sign of the cross. Like real Catholics, not like Mama and her group of Henny Hens. Then my “ah-oh”
meter went off.

Preacher Bing started to say a prayer just as the Vincent’s, along with Finn, started to say the Catholic food blessing.

“Dear Father, we ask that you...” Preach Bing started.

“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we...” The Vincent’s stopped.

Religion, I groaned. Why had I not even thought about religion?

“What’s going on here?” Mama opened her eyes and looked around.

“We are Catholic,” Shelby said, gesturing to Clay and Finn.

“We are Baptist,” Mama said with a loud Southern, prideful voice. “And as for our house, we will let Preacher Bing say the blessing over this fine meal my husband and I prepared for you.”

“I think that we will thank the Lord by the sign of the cross.” Shelby did a very dramatic sign of the cross with very pinpointed pronunciation of her words. “Father. Son. Holy Spirit,” she spat.

“If you think my daughter will ever become Catholic for a boy and his family,” Mama started to say before she began to bounce on her toes. A hissy fit was bubbling up inside of her. “Then you have another thing coming, Finn Vincent!” Mama jabbed her pointer finger her way.

“If you think our grandchildren are going to be raised Baptist and have supper, you’ve got another thing coming, Kendrick Lowry!” Shelby screamed at me. “Let’s go!” She grabbed Finn with one hand and Clay with the other, jerking them out of the kitchen and out of the house with a dramatic door slam.

I knew I should’ve listened to my gut.

“Mama, what’s wrong with you? You made them feel as welcome as an outhouse breeze.” I stomped out of the kitchen. “No one will ever marry me with a Mama like you!”

My exit was equally as dramatic as the Vincent’s and my door slam was even louder. I’d done it plenty of times before and knew exactly how to do it right.