Sweet Vidalia Brand (14 page)

Bobby Joe found the doll on Ebay, and rather than trusting overnight shipping this close to the holiday, decided to make the drive to get it himself, right then. Vidalia had the saloon to run and had already lost a night’s business by helping him with his, so he took her home first and made the drive on his own.

And as he drove, he kept putting Selene’s pretty face in his mind, and searching it for similarities to his own and to his sons. Remarkably, he saw plenty, at least in his imagination. In fact, that baby photo he’d glimpsed in the ornament the night they’d decorated the tree had looked an awful lot like one of Joey’s baby pictures.

While he was out, he would use the opportunity to find gifts for Selene and her sisters as well. And for Vidalia’s grandkids. And for Vidalia.

What could he possibly give to her?

Oh, he had a solid idea about that. But what he had in mind was something it would be unfair to give her until he’d told her the truth. Because it came with a question she could not possibly answer until she had all the information at hand. And yet, he bought it anyway. Took him the better part of an hour to pick it out, too. But as soon as he saw it, he knew it was right.

The small golden hued diamond formed the center of a daisy that was surrounded by brilliant white diamonds in the shape of its petals. Daisies had always been Vidalia’s favorite flower.

Now all he needed to do was figure out how and when to tell her the truth. And how to ask her to be his wife for whatever time he had left.

“Hello, Bobby?” Why Vidalia’s throat felt full of sand, she could only guess. Nervous as a prom date. At her age.

“Hey, Vidalia. Happy Christmas Eve.” He sounded...off. Tired or something. “Didn’t expect to hear from you this morning.”

“I hope I’m not calling too early.”

“If I could start every day hearing that sultry voice of yours, I’d be a happy man. And it can never be too early. Or too late. I hope.”

His flattery could’ve distracted her and might have, had she been a twenty-year-old. But she was old enough and wise enough and paying enough attention to hear behind the words. “Are you all right, Bobby? You sound odd. You’re not sick or anything–”

“It would be pretty lousy of me to get sick on Christmas Eve, wouldn’t it now?” He laughed and forced–she thought–more lightness into his voice. “Don’t you worry about me, Vidalia. I’m gonna have the holiday of a lifetime. Now why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”

She smiled a little, despite the nagging worry that wouldn’t quite go away. “I was thinking that Christmas Day is gonna be bustling with your boys, my girls, their kids and their hubbies and whoever else shows up. Your boys have any women in their lives, Bobby Joe?”

“Besides their mother, no. Joey’s determined to stay free and easy as long as possible. Jason seems to be waiting for the perfect female to just fall into his arms, but isn’t very proactive about finding her. And Rob’s been burned badly and hasn’t healed enough to try again just yet. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “I was just thinking about the Haggerty sisters.”

“Why is that name familiar?”

“It’s the restaurant where we had lunch, over in Tucker Lake. It’s owned by five gorgeous sisters, all of whom are still single, and their grandmother, a woman I’ve always admired.”

“Betty Jean. I remember you talking with her.”

“Should I invite them to join us for something over the holidays? Maybe take Rob’s mind off his wounded heart?

“No. I mean...just no. I don’t think my boys would be even a little bit appreciative. And if they acted ungrateful I’d have to show them I could still kick their keisters. Not something I really want to do at holiday time.”

She smiled. He was sounding more like himself. Teasing and light. She could hear his smile in his voice, see the sparkle in his blue, blue eyes. “Well, that’s not what I was calling about anyway. I’m gonna be shockingly forward with you here, Bobby Joe, but um...I think we should have a Christmas for just the two of us.”

“Instead of–”

“No. I don’t ever do anything instead of my family. I was thinking in addition to. And I was thinking tonight would be the perfect time. Everyone else is busy with their last minute planning and baking and wrapping. The night before Christmas has been the quietest night of the year around my house since the last of those girls got married and moved out.”

His breath whispered into the phone. She imagined she felt its warmth caressing her ear. “That sounds a little sad, Vidalia.”

“Oh, no. Not sad at all. I turn off all the lights except for the ones on my Christmas tree. I put on soft holiday music and light candles. I pour myself a special drink and sit in the living room breathing in the pine and I kind of...reflect on the year gone by. Sometimes on the whole lifetime gone by. And to tell you the truth, Bobby Joe, there hasn’t been a single Christmas Eve that you haven’t been a part of that reflection.”

“You don’t say.” His voice sounded a little softer, maybe a little gruff too.

She shrugged as if he could see her. “It would be nice to have you actually here with me, instead of just whispering like a ghost through my mind.”

“I’ll be there. What can I bring?”

“Yourself. And my present. You did get me a present, didn’t you?” She had absolutely no doubt that he had, or she wouldn’t have asked. She’d got him something as well.

“You’ll just have to wait and see. What time should I arrive, sweet Vidalia?”

“Seven, if you can stand to wait for your dinner that long.”

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“Shush now. You just show up at seven, all right?”

“I will. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait that long, but–”

“It’s only eleven hours. That’s not so much more waiting, not after all these years. Besides, I have to get ready.” She hung up the phone before her suddenly tremulous vocal chords gave her away. Nervous as a prom date.

She went to her bedroom after that, opened her closets and stared in almost blindly. She even moved hangers around, and took a few things out, holding them in front of her and turning to face the mirror attached to her antique dresser.

And then she looked a little harder and moved a little closer, tipping her head to one side and seeing the lines at the corners of her eyes in a way she’d never seen them before. They’d been there. It wasn’t that she was unaware of them. If she looked closely, she could see the beginnings of lines across her forehead, too. Not deep, barely there, even. More like coming attractions. Her lashes and brows weren’t as lush and abundant as they had once been. Her lips, not as full. And she didn’t need to take off her clothes to remind her that her breasts were no longer as perky as they had been in her youth. Her waist, not as tiny, her tummy, not as flat. Her hips were wider, curving out from her waist.

“Mom? You up here?”

She grunted a reply and leaned nearer the mirror.

“Mom?” Maya was at the bedroom door, coming inside, taking in the clothes on the bed, and her mother’s close self-scrutiny, no doubt. “What’s going on, Mom?”

“I’m aging,” Vidalia said.

“You sound surprised.”

Tearing her gaze from the mirror, she managed to turn and face her firstborn. “I guess I shouldn’t be. I just haven’t been paying that much attention.”

“Mom, you’re fif–”

“I know how old I am. I just...didn’t know I looked it.” The mirror pulled her back until Maya stood beside her, leaning just as close, looking just as intently at their reflections.

“You don’t look your age. You look my age. I have more crow’s feet than you do.”

“Pssh,” Vidalia replied.

“I don’t think it’s that you never noticed before. I think it’s that you never cared before. What’s going on, Mom? Is it Bobby Joe?”

Vidalia had never been much for vanity. What the heck was getting into her? Sighing, she turned from the mirror and looked at her daughter. “Yes, it’s Bobby Joe. I um....” She looked at the floor. “I’m in love with him.”

Maya gasped. It was a soft sound, a surprised one, and Vidalia couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She just kept looking down. “I don’t think I realized it myself until just now, but the truth is, I’ve been in love with him for as long as I’ve known him. But things were....well, you know. Impossible then.”

“I had no idea,” Maya whispered.

“I’m going to tell him so. Tonight. I thought we could have Christmas Eve together, just the two of us, but–” She waved a hand, sort of indicating the clothes on the bed and the danged mirror all in one gesture.

“Oh, Mama. Oh, come here.”

Vidalia looked up with a frown, glimpsing tears on her daughter’s cheeks just before she found herself enveloped in a hug. “Well, you don’t need to be so emotional about it, daughter. It’s just–”

“I’ve wished this for you a thousand times,” Maya told her. “Maybe a million. We all have.” Sniffling, she stood back, hands on her mother’s shoulders, wet eyes meeting hers. “You just relax. I’m gonna call Edie and Kara and–”

“No. No, wait, this isn’t big announcement time or family meeting time, it’s just–”

“It’s just, let’s help Mom get ready for her romantic evening time. C’mon Mama. We owe you this. Let us help.”

She pursed her lips, glanced at the mirror again, and nodded. “To tell you the truth, I’d be lost without you. He’s important to me. And you’re important to me, and it just doesn’t seem right that those two things shouldn’t be all bundled up together.”

Maya grinned, dashed away her tears, and pulled out her cellphone. And Vidalia wondered if the enormity of the guilt on her shoulders could grow any larger. What would they think of her when they learned the truth?

Bobby Joe felt like a million bucks. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was in the peak of health as he got ready for his evening with Vidalia. He put the ring in his pocket. He couldn’t ask her until he told her the truth, of course, and he really didn’t want to tell her the truth until after Christmas, because it would ruin her holiday. But he didn’t know how things were going to go tonight, and he wanted to be prepared for anything.

He dressed nice. Wore a suit that accentuated his shape, which was still damn good, if he did say so himself. He added a bolo tie, because he thought she’d like that. And when he arrived, he didn’t show up empty handed. He brought a bottle of the best brandy he had—top-shelf stuff, remembering that she’d liked it—and a bouquet of Daisies he’d had to order from a town two hours away. It was not daisy season. But it was worth it when he saw them. Pretty white petals, around bright yellow centers, with fine mists of tiny blue forget me nots all in between.

He felt oddly nervous when he stood at her garland decked front door, facing a giant wreath, with his flowers in one hand, preparing to knock. He could smell whatever was cooking from outside, and it made his stomach rumble.

And then she opened the door, and he forgot everything else. She’d turned herself into a movie star, he thought. Makeup—just a little, but somehow it made her eyes sparkle and shine even more than usual, lined in black that way. And her hair, her riotous curls had been tamed into a long, sleek, gleaming style. She wore a long dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her lush cleavage, and a sparkling necklace of crystal snowflakes. And there was a slit up one side that showed peeks of thigh and made him tremble.

He released a long, slow whistle as his eyes devoured the high heeled, open toed shoes, and made their way back up to her face again. “Just when I didn’t think you could get any prettier. I guess you can gild a lily after all.”

She smiled, apparently approving of the compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself. Those boots make you almost too tall for me.”

“Then I’ll take ‘em off,” he said as he stepped inside, handing her the flowers and the brandy. “Two of your favorites, as I recall.”

“Thank you, Bobby Joe. You’ve got a good memory.”

“Not as good as I wish it was.” He winked at her.

She blushed, turning away to hide it and going to the sink for a vase and some water. She arranged the flowers, and unable to wait, he walked up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders. She bent her head sideways to run her soft cheek over one of those hands, and he thought he was the luckiest man alive, right now, tonight.

Setting the vase full of flowers aside, she turned in his arms, twisted hers around his neck, and standing up on tiptoe, kissed him in a way that whispered promises he knew better than to expect her to keep.

Then lowering down again, leaving his heart pounding like the hind foot of an alarmed jack rabbit, she turned and walked away. “Dinner’s ready. I thought we’d eat in front of the fireplace.”

“I thought I caught a whiff of wood smoke. That’ll be nice, Vidalia. Here, let me get that.” She was bending over the oven, removing two dinner plates, already loaded with food, and he waited until she straightened up to make his offer, because he was distracted by the view. He was polite, but he wasn’t crazy.

He took the plates from her, pot holders and all, and she said, “Go on in. I’ll get drinks. Wine with dinner okay with you?”