Chapter 2
Ninety percent of the church congregation seemed to be at the Paradise for Sunday dinner that day.
Willa Rose would never be able to put all the names with the faces.
She needed to figure out how to use that association game, but the sisters’ names were all so unusual it was impossible.
If she couldn’t talk her father out of moving, then she would come to visit him regularly, which would mean socializing with the family.
“They are either kin to each other or extended family,” she muttered to her reflection in the upstairs bathroom mirror.
“And there’s another generation coming on fast since all seven sisters have gotten married in the past couple of years, and the oldest brother, Brodie, has his wedding coming up soon.
I can remember Rae and Endora because they were at the house yesterday, but that’s about as far as it goes right now. ”
You always wanted brothers and sisters. Her mother’s voice popped into her head again.
She cautiously glanced over her shoulder, fully expecting to see Vada Thomas standing behind her, but she was alone in the huge bathroom. Her mother had been there. She had heard her voice loud and clear.
Why don’t you give the antique shop a try—at least for six months? That was something the two of us talked about for years, her mother asked.
“But Mama, you are in Poetry, not in this place,” she argued. “And all my friends are there, and our church family.”
I am wherever you are, my child. Distance has no bearing on anything anymore. I will always be with you right in your heart.
“Friends? Who am I kidding? I lost touch with most of them when Mama got sick,” Willa Rose muttered.
And the folks she had known in church her whole life would be changing soon since the preacher who had been there for more than twenty years had taken a job at a bigger church in San Antonio.
A new, younger one was taking over in two weeks.
“Who are you talking to?” Rae’s seven-year-old twin daughters rushed into the bathroom without knocking.
“The woman in the mirror.”
“That’s silly.” Heather giggled.
“Don’t you ever talk to yourself when you are brushing your teeth or fixing your hair?”
“Nope, I talk to Daisy them times.”
“Mama sent us to find you. Dinner is almost on the table, and we’re hungry, so if you are finished talking to whoever is in the mirror”—Daisy giggled—“then please go to the dining room so we can eat.”
“Thank you, ladies, for looking for me.”
“We ain’t ladies.” Daisy giggled again—or was it Heather that time? “Aunt Bernie is the queen, and we are princesses!”
The girls raced out of the bathroom and slid down the banister.
Willa Rose’s mind went back to when she was a child growing up in the only two-story house in Poetry and doing the very same thing.
She could hear her sister’s high, squeaky voice telling on her, and their mother fussing at both of them—Erica for tattling and Willa Rose for doing something dangerous.
Her thoughts were so real that she didn’t realize anyone was around until she looked down and saw Rae looking up at her from the bottom of the staircase.
“I see the girls found you. We were afraid you’d headed back south.”
“Not without Daddy,” Willa Rose said. “I’m sorry if I kept everyone waiting for dinner. Thanks for sending Daisy and Heather to find me. Those two are identical except for what they’re wearing.”
“You’ll get to where you can tell them apart before long. It took me a while, but if you look closely Heather has a freckle below her left ear. Endora said that you probably aren’t moving with your dad?”
“I haven’t made up my mind, but probably not.
If I do decide to make the move with him, Daddy has to promise not to sell our house for a year—just in case either of us changes our mind.
If I come with him, maybe we can rent it to the new preacher and his family, but I haven’t even discussed this idea with him yet. ”
“All of us in the family are hoping that Hank comes up to this part of the state to help Tripp. He’s working himself to death,” Rae said.
“Every time Daddy turns around, something reminds him of Mama, and he’s been trying to escape the grief that it brings. When he accepts that she is gone, he will want to go back home to Poetry where his roots are. That’s just my opinion, but I know him pretty well.”
“Well, if you decide to move with him, I guarantee that we’ll do our best to make you feel at home.”
“Thank you for that,” Willa Rose said.
But I won’t be coming back here ever again, and neither will Daddy after I get him fixed up with a leather shop at home.
“I understand that you only have one sister, but do you have cousins or an extended family in Poetry?” Rae asked and headed toward the way to the dining room.
“Nope,” Willa Rose answered. “It’s just me and Daddy.”
“I can’t imagine life without a big family, as you can well see by all this.” Rae motioned toward the dining room where several folding tables made a U. “When we have big crowds, we often do buffet, but Mama likes to serve things up family-style on Sunday.”
“But there’s got to be twenty or more,” Willa Rose gasped.
“You judged about right, and there would be a lot more, but Tertia and Noah have to be at their restaurant until midafternoon. If y’all could stick around for the evening service at the church, you could meet them too.”
No, thank you! I’m getting hives just looking at all these people.
“We had better get on the road right after we eat, but the aroma of fresh baked bread sure smells good.”
“I understand completely,” Rae said. “I teach at the Prairie Valley school. A couple of times a week the cooks make bread, and the scent of it baking fills the whole building. It’s a wonder any of us can even remember our names on those days.”
Mary Jane, the mother of the seven sisters, tapped on a glass to get everyone’s attention. “I think we are all here, so y’all claim a chair. We’d like to welcome Hank and Willa Rose to our family dinner. Soon as everyone is seated, Joe Clay will say grace.”
Rae sat down in a nearby chair and patted the back of the one beside her.
“You can sit by me. The twins always opt to sit on each side of Aunt Bernie.” She lowered her voice.
“Beware of that old gal. We all love her, but she is the self-proclaimed matchmaker of Montague County. You are a fresh face, and she would love to add a notch to her reputation by sending you down the aisle in a pretty white dress.”
“Noted.” Willa Rose felt Tripp Callahan’s presence even before he pulled out the chair right beside her and sat down, but like she had just told Rae, she did not have time for romance.
She was only twenty-eight and had plenty of years left to delve into relationships, even if the last one had left her both angry and heartbroken.
Right now, she had other more important things to take care of.
***
Tripp recognized the sparkle in Aunt Bernie’s eyes when he looked down the table and caught her staring at Willa Rose.
But when she shifted her gaze to him, she frowned, narrowed her eyes, and shook her head.
Could her expressions mean that she was willing to play matchmaker with Willa Rose, but not with him?
Hot dang!
The mistletoe was working. He might have the whole sprig bronzed and display it on the mantel above the fireplace.
If he misread Aunt Bernie’s facial expressions, or if she was trying to use reverse psychology on him like she did with Tertia and Noah, then she could use some eye drops and wash that twinkle right out because he was way too busy for relationships—not even with the cute brunette sitting beside him.
A miracle had happened when Hank had showed up in Spanish Fort, and that was enough holiday magic for him.
Willa Rose’s hand brushed against his when she passed the basket of hot rolls.
He argued with himself that what he felt was not a spark, but merely static electricity.
Aunt Bernie must have put the romantic notion in his mind by hanging mistletoe on his porch, but even if there was a mild attraction, he would simply practice mind over matter.
I will decide who I fall in love with, he thought. Aunt Bernie can keep her ideas to herself and stay out of my heart and life.
Willa Rose passed the big wooden bowl of salad to him, and this time the electricity was even more pronounced than before. He glanced across the table and Aunt Bernie frowned. Could she really have powers that could let her see the sparks that he felt?
“So, you are the middle son?” Willa Rose asked. “It’s hard to believe that you and Knox are twins.”
“We get that all the time, but technically, I’m the youngest. Knox was born five minutes before me,” he said.
“You are what?” Aunt Bernie’s gravelly voice went up a notch.
Tripp had been trying to get a rise out of Bernie for months, and he had finally succeeded. “Didn’t Knox ever tell y’all that he was born before me?”
“I was not!” Knox exclaimed. “According to the birth certificates, I came a few minutes after Tripp. He just doesn’t want to be the middle child.”
“Why?” Rae asked. “Tertia is technically the middle child among us, and she never minded.”
“Yes, she did,” Bo argued. “Ursula and Ophelia bossed all the rest of us around and never let us forget that they were the oldest. They told Tertia she was the middle child and closer to us sets of twins in age, so they had to help Mama raise all five of us.”
Ursula held up a palm. “Hey, now, I didn’t boss. I advised and guided.”
Tripp jerked his head around when Willa Rose chuckled. “What’s so funny?”
“You all,” she answered. “We didn’t have this kind of banter around the dinner table.”
“Bless your heart, and I mean that in a good way,” Endora said from across the table.
Tripp was glad the conversation had shifted over to something other than him and Knox. But when he glanced over at Aunt Bernie, she shook her head again.
And she doesn’t even know this woman, he thought. She could have a boyfriend in Poetry who will follow her up here. If that is so, I hope that Hank has already trained him in leather work. The way the business is going, I would hire a third hand tomorrow.
“How long have you lived in Spanish Fort?” Willa Rose asked.
Her question stopped Tripp’s woolgathering, and he turned to look at her. Dammit! Why did he have to be a sucker for brown eyes? “It will be a year at Christmas. We came here for Brodie to meet his father, Joe Clay, and wound up staying.”
“Have you had a leather shop that long?”
“No,” Tripp answered. “It took a while to get the old barn remodeled. I opened up for business last summer. I lived in the little apartment until Knox finished building my house. I only moved into it a few weeks ago.”
“Brodie has a farm, right?” she asked. “I’m having trouble keeping y’all straight.”
Tripp chuckled and nodded. “I still get confused sometimes, but I’ll answer any questions you might have.”
“Which one is Ursula?” Willa Rose lowered her voice. “I’ve read Mary Jane Simmons’s books for years, and I had a fan moment yesterday when I actually met her. Endora said that Ursula writes, too, and I’ve already ordered one of her books, but I’d like to put a face with the name.”
“The one sitting by Mary Jane is Ursula. Remy, her husband, is right beside her and holding their son, Clayton. He was a year old back in the fall. The family had a big party for him. This will be our first Thanksgiving here at the Paradise, but let me tell you, their celebrations are pretty awesome. You’ll have a great time,” Tripp explained between bites.
“But Daddy and I are not family, and I’ll come with him to help him get moved”—she lowered her voice—“but I won’t be moving away from Poetry.”
“If you change your mind, watch out for Aunt Bernie.”
“I’ve already been warned,” she whispered. “Do you really think she’ll try to set me up with someone? She doesn’t even know me.”
“That’s never stopped her before,” Tripp said out the side of his mouth.