Chapter 11
Willa Rose opened her eyes the next morning and thought she was at home in Poetry.
She focused on the ceiling, then looked over to the window only to find someone had replaced it with French doors.
Whoever put them up had forgotten to take the film off the glass because everything looked blurry outside.
She groaned loudly, and everything flooded back to remind her where she was.
Thank goodness for the sister who left things behind, she thought as she removed Bo’s nightshirt and dressed for the day. When she stepped out into the hallway, she came face-to-face with Tripp .
“Good morning to you,” he said.
“Right back at you,” she said.
“I believe that Hank was right.”
“About what?” Willa Rose covered a yawn with her hand. “That it’s going to snow forever? I’ve already checked outside, and it hasn’t let up yet.”
Tripp stepped to one side of the steps leading down to the foyer. “No, about you sleeping through a tornado. Ladies first.”
“Aren’t you going to carry me down?” she teased.
“No, ma’am,” Tripp answered. “Aunt Bernie gets up at the crack of dawn and is probably already having coffee. She’ll catch on if we keep lying to her.”
“Did I hear my name?” Bernie said as she came out of a room behind them. Pepper tugged at the leash so hard that it was hard to know which one of them was leading the other. “That was quite a night, wasn’t it?”
“What makes you…” Willa Rose stopped and then cocked her head to one side when she heard a strange sound coming out of one of the bedrooms. Was that a kitten or a puppy? Did that big mama cat that roamed around the house and tormented Pepper have babies last night?
“The whole household was topsy-turvy last night,” Bernie said. “We’ve all been up since midnight waiting for the babies. I’m surprised that you didn’t hear Endora cussing at Parker and telling him that he would be having the next baby.”
“Endora cussed?” Willa Rose gasped.
“She did, but Parker has forgiven her. Still, in amongst all the carrying water up and down the stairs, and Endora trying to walk the babies out of her body, how did you sleep?”
“I really do sleep like the dead. I can’t believe someone”—she cut her eyes around at Tripp—“didn’t wake me up.”
“You are awake,” Mary Jane called out from behind them. “Do you want to come see the babies?”
“They came into the world at one o’clock this morning,” Bernie said.
“You should have wakened me,” Willa Rose scolded Tripp.
“If a tornado couldn’t do the job, how could I?” he asked.
***
Bernie gave Tripp a gentle shove. “Go on with her. You know you are itchin’ to see them again, but we need to talk—alone—sometime this morning. And, besides, Pepper needs to get outside or he’s going to burst.”
“Want me to take him out?” he asked.
“No, and now that Willa Rose is out of hearing, I’ll say what I’ve got to say.”
“Okay,” Tripp answered. “Shoot!”
“I still don’t think that woman is right for you,” she said in a low tone, “and I intend to work harder at finding a suitable woman for you. I’m willing to let you get your heart broken, but don’t come cryin’ to me when it happens because I will tell you, ‘I told you so.’”
“That’s mighty nice of you.” Tripp chuckled. “She’s only been here a week. I don’t know if I would ask her out if I had your blessing, but I will remember that you are saving that ‘I told you so’ especially just for me.”
But a little harmless flirting and banter is more fun than I remember, he thought.
“Fair enough,” Bernie said. “The bets are still on. If God spoke from the clouds and told her to make her home here, I don’t think she would listen to Him. But I see the way she looks at you, and I can predict that she will ask you to leave with her, and that will break Mary Jane’s heart.”
“Not going to happen,” Tripp said. “I’m happy here.”
Bernie started down the stairs. “For now, but what about six months from now?”
“Can’t predict the future,” Tripp muttered and headed back to Endora’s room.
Willa Rose slipped out into the hallway before he had taken two steps.
“Yasmin is still here and helping Endora with breast-feeding techniques for twins. It’s less stressful without a room full of people.
She’s even sent Parker off to have some breakfast and then bring up a tray for Endora. They are so beautiful, Tripp.”
Tripp motioned again for her to go ahead of him. “How many newborn babies have you seen?”
“Plenty,” she answered. “Sometimes Mama and I kept the nursery at our church. How about you?”
“No more than five or six, and they all look just alike to me,” he answered.
“They do not!” she argued. “Endora’s girls do not look a thing like Luna’s son did when he was born.”
“How do you know what Garrett looked like then? You weren’t around these parts in October.”
“Ever heard of pictures ?” she smarted off. “Folks use their phones to take them these days. I’ll teach you how to use yours for that purpose after breakfast. It’s so easy that even a monkey could master the skill.”
“Could a monkey carry you from truck to house?” he countered.
She kept walking toward the kitchen and dining area. “Possibly, if he was trained.” She stepped aside to let Parker pass through with a tray laden with food.
“Y’all check your phones in about two minutes. When I get back to the room, there’s going to be pictures, and an announcement made. We’re doing it this way so the whole family gets the news at the same time,” he said with a broad smile.
“Can you give us a little hint?” Tripp asked.
“Just listen for the ping. Endora has set up a group that includes the whole family. She included you and Hank on it, too, Willa Rose.”
“Thank you, but…”
“No buts. You and Hank are now family,” he said as he disappeared up the stairs.
“If we are family, then that means you might have some monkey DNA in you, too,” Tripp teased.
“I did not call you a monkey,” she protested. “I said that one could be trained to take pictures with a phone.”
“Close enough.” He grinned.
Ivy was setting a pan of fresh biscuits on the counter when he and Willa Rose arrived in the kitchen. People were either at the table or standing in line for the buffet.
“Hey, does anyone know what this message thing is all about?” Tripp asked.
“I imagine since the rest of her siblings can’t be here, Endora is about to announce the birth of her girls,” Mary Jane answered.
“Has she named them yet?” Willa Rose got in line behind Luna.
“She’s had them named since she found out they were twin girls,” Luna answered, “but she wouldn’t even tell me, which is just downright not right. I told her Garrett’s name the day I found out I was having a boy. She and I are identical twins. We are supposed to share everything.”
***
Willa Rose was standing next to Ivy when her phone pinged.
She pulled it out of her hip pocket, touched the screen, and held it out so Ivy could see too.
A picture of Endora and Parker each holding a baby showed up, and then a birth announcement: Sarah Jane Martin and Stella Jo Martin, born December 4, each weighing exactly six pounds.
Sarah means “happy” and Stella means “star,” and they’re named after Mama and Daddy.
We can’t wait for everyone to meet them.
A special thanks to Yasmin for her help.
Willa Rose heard a sniffle and glanced over to see tears streaming down Mary Jane’s cheeks. Joe Clay pulled her close to his chest and buried his face in her hair. Willa Rose clicked on the camera icon and took pictures of the expressions on everyone’s faces and then sent them to Endora.
“That was so sweet.” Ivy’s voice cracked. “When Grandpa was alive, I felt like we had a family with our carnival folks. Not so much anymore. I know there are bets going on about whether you should go back to your hometown, but I think you should stay here.”
“Why?” Willa Rose went back to the message and looked at the pictures of the newborns once again. Tripp was wrong about all babies, and if she could have one, she wouldn’t care what it came out looking like.
“Number one”—Ivy held up a finger—“because of the way Tripp’s eyes light up when he looks at you. Number two”—another finger went up—“because of the same thing happening when you realize he’s in the room. And number three”—a third finger shot up—“because you would be crazy to leave all this love.”
“Maybe there’s love back in my hometown,” Willa Rose said.
“Nobody has that kind of luck, to have a setup like this in two places,” Ivy told her.
Luna nudged Willa Rose on the arm. “Those babies are darling, and I love that they named them after Mama and Daddy, but we were in line for food.”
“You go on ahead of me. I’ll just take one more peek at them,” Willa Rose said.
“Are you getting baby fever?”
Willa Rose slipped the phone back into her hip pocket. “Of course not.”
She didn’t lie. She wasn’t getting the yearning for a child of her own.
She’d had it since last year when she found out that she could never have a child.
That’s what broke her and her ex up. He wanted and needed a son to carry on the family name since he was the last male in the Holton line.
She had never told her father the real reason that their relationship ended, because he wanted grandchildren so much.
Erica had bragged when she came to Vada’s funeral that she didn’t intend to ever have a child. According to her, all they did was tie a person down, and she intended to be free until the day she died. Besides, any kids she produced wouldn’t be Hank’s kin anyway.
When Tripp sat down beside her, his shoulder brushed against hers. Sparks that flew around them were so hot that it was a miracle the folks at the table didn’t see them—or at the very least feel the heat off them.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you that your face could freeze that way?” he asked.
“What way?”
“Like you are having a mental argument with someone, or maybe trying to work out a big problem?” he answered. “Pass the picante sauce, please. It makes scrambled eggs so much better.”
She forced a smile and held up the half-full jar. “This picante?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tripp answered. “Knox makes that stuff, and it’s better than anything you can buy at the store.”
“Are you sure you want this picante?” she teased.
He reached for it. “Yes, I do.”
Ivy sat down across the table. “Those babies are so, so cute. Yasmin has only helped deliver one set of twins before these.”
Willa Rose held the jar out toward her. “Tripp tells me this is really good on eggs. Want to try some?”
“I was just about to ask you to pass it to me,” Ivy answered. “I had it yesterday, and he’s right. It is good. Mary Jane told me that Knox makes it by the gallon and keeps her supplied.”
Tripp leaned over and whispered, “I hope your face does freeze.”
“It almost did yesterday, but a knight in…” She paused as his warm breath on her neck caused her to forget her own name.
“In shining armor,” Ivy finished for her. “What did Tripp do?”
“He saved me from freezing to death,” Willa Rose answered. “But he didn’t ride out in the snow on a white horse.”
Ivy poured sauce over her eggs and then set the jar back in the middle of the table.
“Grandpa watched old western movies late at night when we were home in Oklahoma. I never understood why. From the first scene in the show, the bad guys’ horses and hats were black.
The hero always had a white horse and hat.
Why not just see what color horse they rode and what hat they wore and then go watch something more modern?
After all, the man with the white hat would be the hero in the end. ”
Tripp reached for the jar at the same time Willa Rose did. His hand closed around hers.
Dammit! Why is he such a big temptation? she wondered.
“Well?” Ivy asked.
“Because knowing the end isn’t the important thing. It’s the journey and what happens between the first scene and the last that matters,” Willa Rose answered.
“So, this flirting y’all are doing is just the journey?” Ivy asked.
“We’re not flirting,” Tripp argued. “We are arguing, and I concede, Willa Rose. A gentleman lets the ladies go first. So, you go ahead and put a couple of spoonsful of Knox’s picante sauce on your eggs.”
Ivy giggled. “Y’all are so funny. Why aren’t you dating? Life would never be dull if you did.”
“I thought teenagers called it something different,” Willa Rose said.
Ivy shrugged. “I watch Toks, but y’all are too old to go through all the talking, then sleeping together, and then dating. Just get with the program and admit that you like each other.”
“Just how old do you think we are?” Tripp asked.
“Maybe about as old as my mama would be if she was alive.”
“Aren’t you sixteen?” Willa Rose asked. “If I was your mother, I would have had a baby when I was twelve.”
“Then I guess you are about twenty-eight. It’s way past time that you did more than flirt,” Ivy said.
“Like I said, we aren’t flirting.” Willa Rose gasped. “We are bantering or maybe even arguing.”
“Same difference,” Ivy told her and set about eating her breakfast.