Sweet Carolina Morning (8 page)

“Darlin' boy, it's your mama. Hope you're having a happy week. If I'm remembering right, you have Neal this weekend. Daddy and I were wondering if you two boys wanted to meet us for supper at the club on Saturday evening. It's prime rib night and the chef does a real nice job. Give Neal a big ol' hug from his grandmother and let me know.”

Just the boys, huh? What was she, chopped liver? Rattled, Linny overshot the glass, sloshing milk onto the table. She snatched up a dishcloth and mopped up the spill. Was Jack's mom just not thinking? And when was Jack going to tell her they were engaged—after the wedding? Smelling singeing boxes, she hurriedly turned off the oven and opened the door a few inches. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down. She'd talk with Jack about Ceecee later. Tonight was about Neal.

She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms, and thought about last night's phone conversation with Jack. He'd sounded worried. “Neal's been hiding out in his room all day. Yesterday, when he was at his mama's, he wouldn't talk to me when I called.” He'd blown out a sigh. “It's the wedding. He's having a hard time with it.”

She'd thought about it and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “I feel stupid for not realizing how tough this would be for Neal.”

“You're entitled. You're a rookie,” Jack had said gruffly. “I'm the one who should have known it.”

So they'd come up with a plan. Linny'd scoured the internet for articles about how to help kids with their feelings about a parent remarrying. She'd sent the best ones to Jack with subject lines that read, “The psychologist makes such good points!” and “Read this one: Helping Kids Cope with Remarriage.”

She nodded her head, determined. Tonight they'd talk it out.

As the three of them munched their pizza, Linny sent Jack a meaningful look. He swallowed, patted his mouth with a napkin, and turned to Neal. “Son, how are you doing with this whole wedding idea?”

“All right,” Neil said, taking a giant bite of pizza, chewed enthusiastically and added something that sounded like, “Yaggating.”

“Finish chewing before you talk, Son,” Jack reminded him.

After Neal swallowed noisily, he looked at his father and pointed at Linny's hand. “You've got no ring.”

Jack shot Linny a bemused look and turned up his hands. “We're looking, buddy, but we haven't found the exact right one yet.”

Linny flushed, grateful that Jack hadn't offered any details on the great ring search, which had involved unsuccessful visits to seven jewelry stores. Every ring she'd tried on had looked too flashy or too ornate or too not at home on her hand.

Neal nodded and studied his slice of pizza. “After you told Mom you were marrying Linny, she wasn't real happy about it.” He hunched his shoulders, adding, “She said some bad words and threw two plates, but Chaz calmed her down.”

A flame of anger burned in Linny's stomach. The last thing Neal needed was dramatics from his mother.

“Good,” Jack said in a measured tone. “Change can be hard.”

Linny nodded. When he shot her a quick look, she gave him an imperceptible shrug. She never knew what she was supposed to do at times like this. Was she supposed to say something comforting or wise or just mind her own beeswax? She played it safe and sipped her water.

“The good thing is that both your mama and I have been lucky enough to find people who make us happy,” Jack plowed on. “Linny and I have talked about it, and we think we should plan the wedding as a family.”

“You . . . you want Mom to help plan it?” Neal's brows knit and he shifted in his seat.

Linny widened her eyes at Jack and took a large bite of pizza to hide her smile as she guessed at some of Vera's dream venues for them: a swamp, a coal mine, a viper pit.

Jack said hurriedly, “No, no. When Linny and I marry, we three will be our own new little family. Like you, Chaz, and Mom, right?”

“I knew that.” Neal nodded, flushing. “Couldn't you just go to a church?”

“We can do it anywhere as long as there's a minister.” Jack pushed his chair back from the table and crossed his legs. “We thought we might do something different.”

Neal nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I can't think of anything . . .” he began, his brows furrowed.

“How about we just throw out ideas? Any ideas, even if they're crazy,” Linny suggested, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper from the counter. “The main thing I want is for it to be special, but not fancy.” Writing those down, she looked at Jack expectantly. “Your turn.”

Jack rubbed his chin “Well, I want it to be small. Just close family and friends.”

Linny jotted that down, encouraged. This was going swell so far.

But Jack wasn't done. Gazing steadily at his son, he spoke in a voice thick with emotion. “I want you to be my best man.”

The boy blushed and ducked his head, grinning. “Cool. Tuxes and everything?”

“The works,” Jack agreed, swallowing hard.

Linny felt her eyes brim and quickly brushed away her tears. Turning to Neal with her pen poised, she asked in a brisk tone, “So, what are your ideas for the wedding? If we celebrated it any way you wanted, what would it be like?”

Neal tilted his head. “Can we do it here?”

Linny clasped her hands together. “I love that idea. Why didn't we think of it?” she asked Jack as she wrote down his idea. “What else, Neal? Anything goes,” she said, waving a hand extravagantly.

“Roy could be the ring carrier,” Neal said tentatively and, hearing no objection from Linny because her mouth had dropped open, he pointed at the list to make sure she recorded it. Linny wrote
dog deliver ring
while nervously thinking about Roy's habit of trying to eat anything: road kill, dropped earrings, hair bands, mousetraps. She gave a little shudder, remembering the aftermath of last week's purloined box of Chock Full of Fiber cereal bars.

Neal glanced at his father. “Two more ideas,” he announced, his face animated. “You two could ride down the aisle on horses and I could ride in on a zip line.”

“Hmm.” Jack looked thoughtful and sent Linny a questioning look. “I like those, don't you, Linny?”

“I do.” Linny lowered her eyes and studied the list. Bless his heart, Neal was trying, even though he had to be feeling sadness and loss. The event would be odd, but she didn't care.

Jack smiled at Neal. “Son, this wedding of ours is going to have real pizzazz, but we're going to need to get cracking if we want to get everything done in time.” He eyed the supper dishes. “How about we clean up? This weekend, you and I can research building a zip line.”

The young man's eyes sparkled as he hopped up and ferried dishes to the kitchen.

Linny cocked a brow at Jack, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “A zip line?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a lopsided smile. “Last week's episode of
Tip-Top Tree Houses
. Be glad he doesn't watch all those shows with zombies and vampires.”

Linny rested her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. “Roy needs a Rosetta Stone–type training course on dog manners before the big day. He might eat the ring.”

“I know.” Jack reached across the table and took her hands in his. “We did good, Lin. Including him was a great idea.”

Linny said in a low voice, “I was worried, but I think it went well.” She grimaced. “Can you believe Vera threw dishes when she heard?”

“I can,” he said, his jaw tightening.

Linny paused, thoughtful. “Tonight, after my class, I saw Vera and Chaz at Lil's market.” She relayed to him the scene she'd witnessed and tilted her head to look at him. “Does Vera drink too much?”

Slowly he shook his head no. “She likes her wine, but it was never what I would call a problem, at least not while we were together.”

Linny thought about it and shrugged. “Then I'm not sure what I saw, but they weren't acting like lovebirds. Maybe it was just a bad moment.”

“Those moments happen,” Jack said, sounding philosophical. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her toward him and gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks for being such a good sport about everything, Lin.” He rose and said reluctantly, “I need to get some paperwork done. Tomorrow is the end of the month.”

Nodding, she watched him walk toward the computer in the other room. Linny called after him, “Oh, your mama called. She left a message.” Linny busied herself brushing stray crumbs from the table into her hand and tried to keep her tone light. “I wasn't trying to be nosy, but it sounds like you haven't had a chance to tell them yet.”

“I haven't.” He looked sheepish, then explained, “I've tried. They've been busy since they got back to town. Dad had a church vestry meeting Monday and Rotary last night. Mama's been catching up with girlfriends and hosted her book club. I didn't want to tell them over the phone.” His jaw set, he promised, “I'll do it this weekend.”

Linny nodded, not quite convinced that there hadn't been ten minutes since Saturday night during which Jack could have gone by his parents' house and told them.

Neal came back to sponge off the table. Linny looked at him and said, “You and your dad need to help me learn to be a better horse rider. You know what happened last time.” She gave the boy a sorrowful glance and he snickered.

“That was bad, Linny. When you stepped into the stirrup, that saddle went all the way around.” He cackled.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” Linny shook her head theatrically, enjoying being the butt of the joke. “Your dad told me to tighten the cinch, but I thought it would hurt Maisie if I pulled too hard.”

“You should have listened to him.” Neal's eyes danced. “Your rear end was sore all week.”

“Sad but true.” Linny said.

Neal rocked back and forth on his lime green sneakers, then offered, “My mama rode English. She won ribbons in shows.”

Of course she did
, Linny thought wearily, but all she said was, “Ah.” Would it always be two steps up, one step back with this young man?

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked thoughtful. “There's a YouTube on how to saddle a horse right.”

“That might help,” Linny said in a neutral tone, secretly thrilled with the overture. She moved to the living room and sat on the couch, turning on the lamp on the end table.

Neal brought his iPad from his room, sat beside her on the couch, and looked for the clip. Linny could feel his warmth and felt a wave of affection for him. She wished she could put her arm around him or give him a little hug but knew better. From under her lashes, Linny studied him. Under his tortoiseshell glasses, his nose was slender and straight. He'd inherited his father's long eyelashes and pine green eyes. His profile was even. Though he was gangly as a colt and struck dumb around girls, he was going to be a knockout.

As she and Neal watched a clip called
Saddle up with Salvador,
she heard Jack play back the voice mail and, a moment later, heard him say, “Hey, Mama. How are you?” Linny eavesdropped shamelessly.

Jack was quiet for a moment and then the uh-huhing started. Linny bit her lip to keep from smiling, imagining Ceecee's lengthy recap of her week. As Neal was queuing up
Cowgirl Nan's Four Tips for Cinching Saddles
, Jack finally got a word in. “Appreciate the invite for Saturday, but Neal will be with his mama. Linny and I usually get together on weekend nights.” After a few more uh-huhs, he said, “Let me check with Lin,” and walked into the living room with the phone pressed to his chest. “Mama wants to know if we want to go to prime rib night at the club with them.”

Linny's breathing grew shallow and her thoughts raced. Last Saturday had been so weird. And were his parents going to expect them to eat together every weekend of their married life? She widened her eyes at Jack and he gave a helpless shrug. But Linny fervently wanted to get the we're-getting-married conversation over with. “Can we just meet them at the club for a drink? I bought us tickets for that play,” she said regretfully. As soon as Cowgirl Nan finished up, she'd zip over to the other computer and buy tickets for some play, any play.

As Jack firmed up their plans, Linny gave a quiet sigh. But she gave herself a mental shake. It wasn't going to be that bad. She needed to brace up, get the news told, and get on with the bonding. Jack needed her to learn to love his parents, and by golly—as Cowgirl Nan kept saying—she would. Turning back to the screen, she smiled at Neal and feigned interest in yet a third YouTube clip.

S
aturday night Jack pulled the big red truck under the portico of the Oakwood Hills Country Club and Linny watched as handsome men in camel-hair coats handed valets the keys to their Audis, Lexuses, and Mercedes. Their silky-haired wives emerged from the cars looking glamorous in their winter coats and heels, their necks swathed in colorful pashminas.

Inside, Linny smelled the trailing clouds of floral scents and watched as women in floaty dresses trilled their hellos and air kissed other women. She glanced down at the black sheath she'd thought looked tailored and sophisticated before she left the trailer. Now it just looked plain, practically Amish.

During her time with Buck—who did more deals in eighteen holes of golf than seemed possible—her attendance was required at a lot of country club events. Though she'd tried to fit in and make friends, she'd never been good at either. She seemed to keep meeting the same three types of women: the ones with names like Cricket or Hadley, who only mingled with old moneyed friends they'd known since childhood; the older men's second or third wives, who compared notes about plastic surgeons and kvetched about their stepkids; and the no-makeup-great-legs wives who channeled all their energies into killer golf or tennis games. Whenever she answered their polite questions about herself and described her work, their eyes wandered or they needed to get a drink, make a call, or get home. She'd learn to just smile and nod a lot. Touching her neck, she felt the smooth warmth of Nana's pearls and could almost hear her voice.
Be proud of who you are, sweetheart.
She lifted her chin. In a low voice she said to Jack, “I'm not a country club kind of girl.”

He tugged at his tie, grimacing. “I'm not either.” He gave her a sideways glance, grinning. “I'm not a girl either.”

She cracked a smile, put her hand though Jack's arm, and gave it a squeeze for comfort.

They spotted Rush chatting with a waiter near the entrance to the bar and walked over. Jack's father gave her a twinkly smile and folded her in a bear hug, saying gruffly, “How's one of my favorite gals?” Linny flushed, warmed by his greeting, and smiled as she watched him pump Jack's hand. She spotted Ceecee nearby at the maître d' station, holding a menu and pointing at it as she consulted with the tuxedoed man. Seeing them, Jack's mother gave a cool little wave and continued talking. Linny's smile faded and she wilted a little.

After the three of them were seated and Jack and his dad had covered the cold front coming through and the ball games they'd watched, Ceecee joined them. Linny's mouth turned up as she approached, noticing that Jack's mother wore yet another pair of heels that clacked when she walked. Her white hair was braided into an elegant chignon and she looked chic in her winter white St. John knit. The men stood up. Jack leaned in to kiss his mother and Ceecee offered him a cheek. Briefly, she touched Linny's shoulder and her charm bracelet jingled. No trace of last week's effusive greeting. When Jack's mother finally looked at her, Linny felt her stomach drop. Ceecee's eyes were red, and it looked like she'd been crying. Linny gave Jack a worried glance, and he looked baffled.

Ceecee picked up the bar menu and studied it, then, in a dreadful sunny voice, launched in. “I asked the maître d' to go over the supper menu with me and show me the healthiest items on the menu for a girl watching her figure. Marco said if I choose the horseradish sauce instead of the garlic bleu cheese, I should be fine. Guilt-free.” She stopped talking, and the silence spun out.

A cold knot forming in her stomach, Linny gazed out the window and feigned great interest in the scenery. What in the world was going on?

“Well, well, well,” Rush said in a too-hearty voice and glanced at Ceecee nervously. He gave a little cough. “Ah. Um. Actually, a little birdie told us what you've been up to, and we hear congratulations are in order!” He slapped his hands on the table and smiled at them.

Ceecee choked back a strangled sob and blotted her eyes with her napkin.

Red-faced, Rush awkwardly patted his wife.

“Aw, Mama.” Jack leaned forward and, sounding apologetic, said, “We were going to tell you this week, but you all were busy every night.” He watched her for her reaction, wary as if he'd just poked a snake with a stick.

Ceecee gave a shuddery sigh, dabbed her eyes, and folded her hands carefully on the table. She shot Jack a reproachful look, her chin wobbling. “I had to hear about my baby boy getting remarried from my own daughter-in-law.”

Ex
-
daughter-in-law,
Linny thought, curiously detached as she watched Ceecee's dramatics. She felt a sinking in her stomach, starting to understand how levelheaded Jack could have married a first wife who was prone to tantrums and hissy fits. Growing up with his mother had gotten him used to drama.

Ceecee wasn't done yet. “And that dear girl Vera is so upset. . . .” Her voice catching, she trailed off, shaking her head sadly.

Linny felt a flame of anger lick at her stomach. What was Ceecee's problem? She should be thrilled. Her indignation rose and she looked pointedly at the men. Wasn't one of them going to reel Ceecee in?

Jack fixed his mother with a gaze and said in a flinty voice, “I'm sorry you didn't hear it from us first, but the point is, this is good news. We are very happy.”

Linny found his hand under the table and squeezed it. Thank God he had guts.

“I just wish you'd told us first. Your own mama and daddy,” Ceecee said and shook her head sorrowfully.

“Mama,” Rush said and fixed her with a look that said he'd had enough.

For a long moment no one said anything. Jack sipped iced water and Linny gazed around at the other diners, wearing what she hoped was a neutral expression on her face.

Ceecee had the grace to put her hands over her face and flush scarlet. “Forgive me, my dears. I'm a silly woman making a mountain out of a molehill.” She stood and, stepping between their chairs, pulled Linny and Jack into a fervent hug. Clasping her hands together, she said, “I'm thrilled to pieces at such happy news. I just was taken by surprise.” She wagged a finger at her son. “Jack, you could have told me you were in love. I've been praying for that every single night.” She came in for a second round of hugs.

Linny let herself be hugged and pasted on a smile but eyed Ceecee to see how earnest she looked. She caught Jack's eye and her heart lifted. His smile was wide and his face open as he was being smushed in his mother's arms.

“We need to toast the happy news,” Rush called out, looking relieved that the squall had passed. He raised a hand to beckon a waiter. “Young man, we need some bubbly.”

As the waiter poured Prosecco into crystal flutes, Rush stuck out his beefy paw and beamed as he pumped Jack's hand. “Well done, Son. I'm real pleased for you.” Turning to Linny, he gave her a warm smile. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” His eyes sparkling with mischief, he leaned toward her and added sotto voce, “We can be crazy as loons, but we grow on you.”

* * *

It was Tuesday night and the week was flying by. She was fixing supper for Jack in the tiny kitchen of her renovated trailer. Tonight it was just the two of them, and Linny was glad. Between her work revving up, the stress of getting to know Jack's parents, trying to build a bond with Neal, and wedding planning, time alone with just her and Jack had become a precious commodity. Linny eyed the table set with her best mismatched thrift store china and admired the scarlet tulips she'd splurged on at Earth and Sky. She reached out and rearranged them so that a few draped gracefully over the side of a mason jar. There.

Jack blew in on a gust of cold fresh air and gathered her into his arms for a bone-crushing hug. “Hey, darlin' girl,” he drawled as he slipped his phone and car keys from his pocket and put them on the counter. He stood stock-still and sniffed the air like a hunting dog on point. “Smells great, Lin. Is this a dish from your online cooking class?”

“It is,” she said with a satisfied nod. “It's called Hungry Cowboys on the El Paso Trail Ride Chili.” She ladled the spicy chili into red bowls and he held out her chair as she slid into her seat. Linny waved her napkin into her lap and breathed in. The aroma—cumin, chipotle, and onion—
did
smell great, and she'd played with the recipe some and served it over small, perfect Yukon gold potatoes.

Jack took a bite and groaned happily. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Might need an antacid later, but it will have been worth it,” he said. After he'd spooned in the last bite, he rose to dish up seconds. “For a woman who couldn't cook when I met you, you're getting so you can really rattle a pan.”

“It's just practice,” Linny explained, but she felt warmed by the compliment.

This week, Birdie, the instructor for A Fun Mom's Guide to Fast, Frugal Weeknight Cooking, had pointed her wooden spoon at them on the computer screen and said in her ebullient voice, “Practice, my little chickens! Rachael Ray and Padma Lakshmi practice constantly, and so must you.” And Linny had.

* * *

Later, Linny put the lids on the glass bowls of leftovers and peered in the refrigerator to find a spot for them. Jack gave the big pot a final rinse and set it in the sink drainer. She reached under Jack's arm to grab a sponge and gave him a flirty smile. He caught her around the waist and pulled him toward him for a quick smooch. Meal cleanup in the tiny kitchen meant lovely collisions and close ups with Jack. She'd miss this kitchen when she moved to his house after the wedding. The chili recipe was a keeper. As Linny carefully folded it and put it in a drawer, she caught herself humming.

In the living room Jack sank back into his corner of the couch, picked up the remote, and started to scroll through the programs. “
American Pickers
, then
Coast Guard Alaska
, followed by
Tiny House Nation
and, Flippin' RVs, right?”

“Sounds good.” Linny kicked off her shoes and plunked down beside him. Pulling the afghan Dottie had crocheted for her from the back of the couch, Linny draped it over them. “Are we boring old couch potatoes?”

He gave her a bemused smile. “We've both had long days; it's a Tuesday night. What should we be doing?”

“I don't know . . .” Trailing off, she pointed at the television screen to the ad for Rev You Up Energy Drink. The beautiful roped-together couple climbed a dizzying rock face, gyrated wildly at a rock concert, and laughed hysterically as they sprinted down a narrow street, glancing over their shoulders.

Jack's brows rose as he watched the bull appear. “You want to run with the bulls?”

She broke into laughter and admitted, “No.”

Jack looked at her questioningly. “Do you want us to go out more? Dinners, movies, concerts?”

Linny shook her head no and smiled as she snuggled into his flannel-shirted chest. “I'm perfectly, ecstatically content. I just wanted to make sure you aren't bored.”

“Never. I'm exactly where I want to be and happy about it,” he said firmly and dropped a kiss on her head. “Any chance for some popcorn?”

“Sure.” Linny rose. “Save that spot,” she said, pointing to his chest.

In the kitchen Linny opened cabinets searching for the popcorn. Why had she asked him if he was bored? It came to her: Buck. Buck had been bored by home life. Even though he'd promised her a white picket fence life and sworn that was exactly what he wanted, he'd found his fun running down to the coast to fish with his pack of merry men, dragging her to charity dos where he could butter up clients, and sleeping with girls like Kandi. He hadn't at all wanted the cozy, quiet domesticity she'd craved, and he hadn't wanted her. Bait and switch. She blew out a breath, disgusted, and willed herself not to let his ghost haunt her.

Finding the box, she pulled open the cellophane packet. Linny pushed Jack's phone and keys away from the microwave door and slipped in the bag. As she entered the cooking time, she noticed a lit screen on Jack's phone and picked it up to turn it off. But what was on the screen caught her eye. It was an itemized Amazon receipt from a store called Big Mountain Ski and Board Shop. Linny glanced down the itemized purchase list, confused.

The list went on: goggles, a helmet, a snowboard bag, tether locks. When she finally scrolled down to the total, Linny drew in her breath sharply. Why had Jack had just spent thirty-five hundred dollars at a ski shop? He didn't even ski.

The timer dinged and Linny's hands shook as she tore open the steaming bag and dumped the popcorn into a bowl. His phone clutched in her hand, Linny carried both into the living room. Thrusting the bowl at him, she held out the phone to Jack, the lit screen facing him. “Will you tell me about this?” she asked, trying to sound calm.

Jack pinched the bridge of is nose and looked chagrined. “I told you Vera and Chaz are taking Neal to Vail over that long weekend in late March?”

“You did,” Linny said, remembering. Her exact thought was
Of course Vera would want to ski in Vail. She couldn't be expected to mingle with the regular Joe families skiing at Cataloochee or Sapphire up in the North Carolina mountains.
She sat down on the edge of the sofa, a good foot away from Jack.

He shrugged. “She emailed me a list of gear she wanted me to buy Neal for the trip.”