Page 7 of The Wedding Gift
“My answer is still no. I couldn’t trust you seven years ago, and you haven’t changed a bit, so why should I trust you now?” she asked.
“You shouldn’t”—Andy’s laugh was brittle—“but, honey, you can believe me when I say that we’ll have such a good time together you won’t even remember how to pronounceTishomingo.”
“Goodbye, Andy.” Darla stood up and started across the porch.
“I’m not giving up until the last minute,” he said just before she ended the call.
She tossed her purse and phone onto one of the two ladder-back chairs in the foyer and headed straight for the dining room. Claud was already at the head of the table, so she stopped long enough to kiss him on the top of his bald head. “Everything sure smells good. I’m starving.”
“Well, scoot on out there and help them women get dinner on the table,” he said.
Darla started that way, but then turned around and asked, “Where’s Daddy?”
“Helping Sarah’s younger daughter get washed up.” Claud shooed her away with a flick of his wrist. “I want to get out of these dress britches and this shirt before they chafe me raw, and into my old soft overalls. Roxie puts too much starch in my Sunday shirts, and they make me itch like I’ve been wallowing in fire ants.”
“Why don’t you change before dinner?” Darla asked.
“Because I wasn’t raised that way. Mama believed in that hymn that said we ought to give of our best to the Master. That meant we had to stay in our Sunday best until after we ate dinner.”
Darla stopped. “Did you go to church every Sunday?”
“Yep.” Claud nodded. “Mama insisted on that, even if Daddy didn’t make it. When he did, he was one of the back-seat fellers who snuck in at the last minute with whiskey still on his breath from the night before and was out of there before the preacher made it to the back of the church to shake folks’ hands. All ten of us boys lined up on the front pew with Mama, no matter if we had whiskey on our breath or not.”
Kevin arrived in the dining room with Sarah’s girls in tow, made sure they were sitting in the right places, and then focused on Darla. “Are you coming down to Denison thisafternoon with your mother to talk to the caterer about the wedding?”
Darla shook her head. “Will and I have a movie date tonight. I told Mama what I wanted served, and she said she could handle it without me being there.”
“I’ll still give you enough to make a hefty payment on your house if you’ll elope. We can cancel the flower order as well as the caterer,” Kevin offered. “This is your last chance, so why don’t you take my check and go to a warm beach somewhere for fall break? Drink them fancy things with umbrellas in them, and work on your tan.”
“Mama would shoot me and you both,” Darla said. “She’s worked too hard on this wedding.”
Are you really going to go through with the wedding when you really want to leave with Andy?that pesky voice in her head asked.
“I’m not going anywhere, so leave me alone,” she whispered as she whipped around and headed to the noisy kitchen.
Then why are you having doubts?the voice persisted.
“Wedding jitters,” she said.
Roxie heard and draped an arm around Darla’s shoulders. “We all had them, sweetie,” she said.
Chapter 3
Darla carried two glasses of sweet tea out to the screened-in back porch that afternoon. She set them down on a table between two of the four rocking chairs out there, and then took a deep breath. “Football weather,” she muttered.
A brisk wind brought down the scarlet, yellow, and orange-colored leaves from the old sugar maple tree in the backyard. She loved this time of year and had chosen the colors in the fall leaves for her wedding. Clouds shifted over the sun and lowered the temperature by a few degrees, finally making it pleasant enough to sit outside that evening.
“Whew!” Roxie said as she slumped down in one of the rocking chairs. She picked up her glass and took a long drink. “Any other Sunday, he would be snoring like an elephant ina matter of minutes, but today it seemed like it took forever for him to go to sleep.”
“Can’t Gramps go to sleep without you beside him?” Darla asked.
“Not on Sunday afternoon. After the first year when we…” Roxie smiled.
“When you did what, Granny?” Darla asked.
“We didn’t do so well that first year. If my mama would have let me, I would have gone home and left him up there in Powderly around his folks. All we did was argue. We couldn’t agree on a blessed thing. Then one day while I was visiting my folks, he went into town. I got tired of waiting on him to come and take me home, so Mama drove me back up to my house, and I fumed for an hour or more until he came in,” Roxie explained.
“Where had he been?” Darla asked.