Chapter 2 #2
“Yes, I do,” Audrey whispered. “He’s dating every woman Bernie can drag up, and she’s never asked if I’d like her to fix me up with anyone. She won’t even nod at me after church services, much less speak to me. Not that I want to go out with any of those Callahan brothers, but…”
“Who are you talking to?” Hettie asked as she backed out the door with a beer in one hand and what looked like a double whiskey sour in the other.
“Myself,” Audrey answered and took the beer from Hettie’s hand.
The elderly lady groaned when she sat down in the rocking chair. “Trying to talk yourself out of something or into something?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, be careful. When you are arguing with yourself, you are about to mess up. If you just sit back and wait, you’ll find that things usually work out the way you want.”
I don’t see that happening, Audrey thought, but she didn’t say anything.
***
Brodie took stock of the way everything was laid out in the room that was twice the size of his bedroom in the house that was now scattered over northern Texas and southern Oklahoma.
The bed was to his left, with a nightstand on one side and a chest of drawers on the other.
His new inexpensive shaving lotion and other toiletries were lined up on a dresser to his right.
He stood in the middle of the room and blinked several times.
Nothing disappeared so this was real, not a dream.
A very distinctive smell of marinara sauce and chocolate floated up the staircase.
His mother always said that everything looked better after a good, solid meal.
Thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall.
She had been born with not only a silver spoon but a huge trust fund that had been handed down from selling cotton in World War I.
Then she married the owner of an oil company, and together they invested well.
But down deep, Jolene Callahan was a country girl who didn’t care about money or prestige.
She was happiest when she was digging in the dirt and had passed that down to Brodie—along with a big inheritance.
He hung his new jeans and shirts in the closet and put away his underwear, then crossed the room to look out the French doors onto the balcony that surrounded three sides of the house.
He wondered which lady had lived in this room when the Paradise was a brothel and tried to imagine a time when Spanish Fort was actually a booming town that thrived on the cattle drives.
Tripp startled him when he said, “This is pretty dang nice living quarters.”
Brodie whipped around to see both of his brothers standing in the doorway. “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s not a forever thing.”
“Have you seen the rest of the house?” Knox asked. “I could so make this a forever thing.”
Tripp said, “Right now, we’d better go to supper. I smell something Italian cooking.”
“And chocolate,” Knox said with a nod.
“We’re acting like we really are homeless,” Tripp said.
“Maybe so,” Knox answered, “but this is a whole lot better than staying in my travel trailer with y’all two claiming floor space to put down sleeping bags.”
“What sleeping bags?” Brodie asked as he led the way out into the hallway and then started downstairs. “The tornado took those, too.”
“Then I guess you’d be sleeping on the floor with nothing,” Knox said.
“Yep, it’s better than that,” Tripp agreed. “And we get a hot meal here, too.”
Brodie and his brothers had been at the Paradise several times since they’d moved to Spanish Fort.
Sunday dinner was a family tradition, and the house was always full.
The vibe in the kitchen and dining room wasn’t the same as when the whole family was there on Sunday.
The noise level alone had dropped from eleven on a scale of one to ten to maybe a three.
Joe Clay came out of the living room and motioned the three of them to follow him to the dining room. “Come on in and have a seat. Tertia and Noah are about to put supper on the table, but Mary Jane has already poured the sweet tea, so have a swallow or two while we wait.”
“Thank you again for everything,” Brodie said as he took a seat.
“Yes,” Tripp and Knox said in unison.
Knox patted Joe Clay on the shoulder. “This is like a luxury hotel.”
Mary Jane came through the archway into the dining room with a basket of steaming-hot rolls in her hands.
“We’re glad you like your rooms. Make yourself at home.
You have been in and out, so you know where the laundry is.
Kitchen is always open to whoever wants to cook.
I’m in my writing cave five days a week, but I do take an hour lunch break, and Joe Clay brings me a cup of coffee at ten thirty if he’s free. ”
“We are very capable of taking care of ourselves, and we all know our way around the kitchen. We’d be glad to cook every morning,” Knox told her.
“We’re just grateful for a place to sleep.
Most days we’ll be gone right after breakfast unless it rains.
There’s a lot of clean up to be done at the farm. ”
Noah brought in a huge pan of lasagna. “We’ll pitch in and help when we can.”
“Thanks,” Brodie said, still in awe of the fact that such a huge, adopted family had come with his biological father.
Tertia, the sister with brown curly hair and aqua eyes, brought a tray with different kinds of cheese and pickles to the table, and Mary Jane followed her with a bowl of salad. When the two women took a chair, Mary Jane nodded toward Joe Clay.
Brodie had been around long enough to know what that meant, so he bowed his head. Joe Clay said a short grace, ending with, “Thank you, Lord, for keeping all our boys safe through the storm. Amen.”
“Amen,” Brodie muttered under his breath.
“Boys upstairs?” Tertia’s tone said she was teasing.
“For the first time,” Mary Jane said.
“When the girls were growing up, house rules said that no boys were allowed upstairs,” Joe Clay explained.
Bernie pushed open the back door and came inside like a whirlwind with her little chihuahua, Pepper, straining at his leash. “Am I in time for supper?”
“Yes, you are,” Mary Jane answered. “Turn Pepper loose and grab a plate.”
Brodie did not roll his eyes, but it took a lot of effort and determination. “Miz Bernie, you come on in and sit down. I’ll get another plate,” he said.
“Why, thank you, Brodie,” she said. “You’re the reason I came over tonight, besides the fact that I’m starving and Tertia makes wonderful lasagna.
I have set you up with Linda Massey for next Friday night.
I just know she’s the very woman for you.
She’ll make a good farmer’s wife. She’s already a vegan—”
“Well, Brodie is an organic farmer,” Knox butted in. “That is very different from vegan. And I’m sorry, Miz Bernie, but we’ll be working from daylight to dark out at the farm. We need Brodie every single day for the next few weeks.”
“Except Sunday?” Tertia said.
“Well, then, Sunday it is,” Bernie cocked her head to one side.
“I’ll talk to Linda and change the date to a week from this coming Sunday.
You can take her to church and dinner afterward.
Somewhere nice where they have vegan options on the menu.
And she did mention that she only ate organically grown food, so that’s what I was talking about. ”
With her red hair, smart-ass attitude and small build, Bernie reminded Brodie a little of Swoosie Kurtz, the actress who played a sassy, hippie-type lady in a couple of episodes of the television series Lethal Weapon .
“Well?” Aunt Bernie said in a no-nonsense tone and narrowed her eyes at Brodie when he stood up and held the chair for her.
“What he’s trying to tell you, Aunt Bernie, is that he isn’t interested in blind dates,” Tertia answered for him.
Bernie sat down and tipped her chin up a notch.
“Of course he is. He’s too busy to meet women on his own, so I’m helping him.
Linda is excited about going out with him.
She’s a good woman and a perfect fit for Brodie.
Everyone knows I’m the matchmaking guru of Montague County.
I found all you girls a suitable husband—”
“Thank you for that.” Noah’s brown eyes lit up when he grinned.
Bernie shot a half-mean look across the table. “I got y’all together with reverse psychology. Tertia never was one to listen to good advice. I forbade her to fall in love with you, and since she always did the opposite of what I said, it worked out beautifully.”
“She still doesn’t listen,” Noah teased and then leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek.
“You better be nice to me after that comment,” Tertia said.
Joe Clay passed the basket of bread around the table. “I got to admit that I was glad to have seven sons-in-law and then for you boys to show up at Christmas. For years, I felt like the only rooster at a coyote convention.”
Mary Jane patted him on the cheek. “Poor baby. Changing the subject now. Tripp, you’ve said that you work in leather, making saddles for the most part?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tripp answered. “I worked for an old guy in Bandera when I was growing up. He kind of mentored me in the art, and it’s more of a hobby right now.
I wanted to take over his business when he sold it, but my mother insisted I get a college degree and go to work for Dad in the oil company. ”
“The Johnsons are trying to sell their house just east of Luna and Shane’s convenience store.
It’s small. Just two bedrooms and one bath.
Probably less than a thousand square feet, and it’s got a lot of problems. You could tear it down if remodeling it would be too big a job, but the barn out back would make a wonderful place for you to do your work and sell your products.
It’s sturdy and has a good roof, but you’d have to do some work to turn it into a workspace and a store. ”
Knox took out a second helping of lasagna. “You’ve got a carpenter right here.”