21. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
When I arrived at the hospital, Aunt Lu was dressed and waiting—impatiently—for the doctor to release her. I kissed her cheek. “You look well.”
She would forever be a beauty queen, whether she admitted it or not. Even in a hospital room, she exuded grace and elegance. I could only hope I’d age with half her poise.
I sat beside her and held her hand while we waited. She kept glancing at me with quiet interest. I could guess why.
“I suppose you got some phone calls this morning.”
She gave me a wry smile. “You’ve always had a knack for making people talk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bristled at the implication.
“You’re touchy this morning, sugar.”
I wasn’t touchy. I was trying to remember that the defining characteristic of humankind should be love. That resolve didn’t last long.
“Ella Lu, that’s not a bad thing. People have talked about you your whole life—how talented and beautiful you are. Of course, being with that Jackson boy only fans the flames. And having the Jackson boys sit with you at church today? What did you expect?”
“I knew there’d be talk. But just for your information, those Jackson boys planned that on their own.”
She gave me a hint of a smile. It gave me hope.
Then, more hesitantly she asked, “Tell me how dinner in hell was last night?”
I laughed even though last night was no joyride. Her phrasing was spot-on.
“Hellish,” I said. “That’s the word.”
She seemed pleased by that. Maybe she’d worried I had enjoyed myself. There was no chance of that.
I didn’t mention Brady’s daddy. I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure what that kind of revelation would do to her.
Dr. Sandstrom finally came in and released her. Still lying through his teeth for me, bless him.
He handed me a list of instructions and medications to fill, along with dietary guidelines he wanted us to follow.
Aunt Lu was not thrilled.
He tried to explain the importance of the changes—kindly, but firmly. I cut in before she could argue.
“We’ll follow the plan,” I said.
She gave me the look.
As the nurse wheeled her out, Dr. Sandstrom smiled. “Thank you for the books and dolls,” he said.
“You’re very welcome. It was well worth it,” I said quietly. I hoped I was covert enough. “You don’t know how appreciative I am of the staff here.”
He gave me a knowing grin. My aunt was not the easiest of patients.
He handed me his card. “If you ever need anything , please call me.”
There was something in his tone—an implication I couldn’t quite place. Odd, but I didn’t think much of it. At least, not at the time.
Aunt Lu fussed all the way to the car. She wasn’t happy they wouldn’t let her walk down. I tried to keep my snickering to a minimum.
She visibly relaxed once we reached the car. As soon as she settled into the seat, she took a deep breath. A week and a half in the hospital had clearly been her limit. I saw the shift in her countenance almost instantly.
I reached over and squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back. “Hurry home,” she said—then added with a sly smile, “I think that doctor was very taken with you.”
“Really? I thought he was married.”
“No, divorced.” She glanced at me. “So . . . what did you think of the handsome doctor?”
“I think he’s not Brady.” I smirked.
“No, he’s not,” she said, like that was a good thing.
“Aunt Lu, if you didn’t want Brady and me together, why did you help make it happen?”
She paused. “It’s not so much that boy. It’s his family.”
“Believe me, we’re in agreement about his family. But Brady isn’t going anywhere. I love him. And I want you to love him, too.”
I felt her gaze settle on me.
“I’m serious. Just give him a chance. He’s a good guy. Actually, he’s a great guy. And I think deep down, you know that. You wouldn’t have talked to him in the first place if you didn’t.”
She didn’t respond. But I knew she knew I was right.
When we got home, I got her settled in the family room, then went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. I also grabbed the new Christmas puzzle I’d bought her.
Growing up, we always did a puzzle during Christmas break. It had been years. But this felt like the right time to bring the tradition back.
When I came back down with the box in hand, she looked pleased. Which made me happy. For the first time in days, I felt like the holidays could finally begin.
I turned on some Christmas music using the ancient stereo—the one that only played CDs. I chose her favorite: Bing Crosby.
Then I set up the puzzle table in front of the couch.
We spent a lovely afternoon singing along to our favorite Christmas tunes and piecing together the puzzle. It felt like old times. It felt like peace.
As evening settled in, I lit the Christmas trees.
“Ella Lu,” Aunt Lu said pleased, “the trees look lovely this year.”
“Well, you can thank Brady and Caroline for that.”
She narrowed her beautiful brown eyes at me, clearly uneasy at the thought of Brady touching her beloved ornaments.
Before she could say anything, the doorbell rang.
I assumed it was someone from church bringing dinner. Brady wasn’t supposed to come until later.
I was half right.
It was dinner. But I couldn’t believe who brought it.
Standing at the door were all my favorite Jacksons: Brady, Kendra, Benjamin, and little Miss Caroline. All of them grinning like they’d just pulled off the best surprise of the season.
“Surprise!” they chorused.
“Oh, wow,” was all I could manage. I was so touched, I could barely speak. “Come in,” I choked out.
Brady reached me first, kissing my cheek. “We thought we could have a family dinner tonight.”
“I hope we’re not being too presumptuous by inviting ourselves,” Kendra added with a wink.
My heart was bursting. I placed a hand over it. “Nothing would make me happier.”
I welcomed them—and the trays of delicious-smelling food—inside.
We headed to the kitchen, which opened into the family room. We had a formal dining room, but I preferred the round table in the breakfast nook. It was cozy and warm. It matched how I felt at that moment.
Having them all there meant the world to me. I only hoped Aunt Lu would feel the same.
Unfortunately, her pinched expression when we walked in said otherwise.
I tensed, silently begging her to at least try to fake it.
But I didn’t have to worry—Caroline saved the day.
Without any coaxing, she marched straight up to Aunt Lu and handed her a card.
“I drew you a picture so you would feel better.”
She was adorable. So adorable, not even Aunt Lu could resist.
She took the card and opened it, doing her best not to fully smile. She was so stubborn. But she finally cracked.
“Well thank you, sugar,” she said. “I feel better already.”
Caroline giggled. “Miss Ellie calls me sugar sometimes, too.”
Aunt Lu looked up at me and smiled. Smiled —even with Brady’s arm around me.
She turned back to Caroline. “It must be because you’re so sweet.”
Caroline beamed.
Kendra and Benjamin sat on the couch and chatted with Aunt Lu for a bit. Brady and I took the safer route—setting the table and laying out the food.
It looked like Kendra had made grilled chicken with some kind of marinade, a fresh green salad, and homemade rolls. It smelled heavenly.
“Whose idea was it to bring dinner?” I whispered, placing the silverware just how Aunt Lu liked it.
“Kendra, of course. She and Benjamin wanted you to know they support us.”
It meant the world to me. And gave me hope.
I peeked over at them talking with my aunt. They seemed to be getting along famously.
Kendra was quickly becoming one of my favorite people. And I appreciated Benjamin more than I could say. This couldn’t be easy for him—especially knowing how much his mother hated me and my family.
So, I was more than surprised when he stood and held out his hand to Aunt Lu.
“May I escort you to the table?”
I held my breath.
She blinked, clearly taken aback. But slowly, she placed her manicured hand in his.
It was a miracle in and of itself. I wished I could’ve taken a picture—just for documentation.
Once we were all seated—Brady on one side of me, Aunt Lu on the other—we looked around the table, quietly acknowledging the moment.
We were making history in Kaysville. And we all knew it.
Aunt Lu asked me to bless the food. I tried, but I got choked up as I thanked God for the people around me.
Funny enough, both Brady and Aunt Lu reached out and touched me gently as I stumbled through the prayer.
I had a habit of crying when I was happy. And I couldn’t have been happier than I was right then.
After the blessing, Caroline looked up at me, confused.
“Why are you crying?”
“I cry when I’m happy, sugar.”
She tilted her head. “That’s funny.”
Her momma tapped her nose. “Someday, you’ll understand.”
Caroline shrugged.
Once the food was passed and plates were filled, Brady turned to Aunt Lu.
“How are you feeling this evening, Luanne?”
“I’m happy to be home,” Aunt Lu said stiffly.
But it was a response. And in my book, that counted as progress.
I kept catching Benjamin throwing covert glances Brady’s way—he knew this was uphill territory.
Still, tonight’s dinner was far and away better than the hellscape of the night before.
This was how I imagined big family dinners—laughter overlapping, hands held beneath the table, stories traded like heirlooms.
And one of the best parts? Benjamin had rescued my cake from his parents’ house, giving me the chance to serve dessert—a homemade dessert, no less, and one that tasted like heaven.
My aunt couldn’t believe I’d made it. She knew how deeply the kitchen-averse gene ran in our family.
Once everyone was delightfully stuffed, we moved to the music room. Brady had suggested I play. Everyone agreed—especially Aunt Lu. So, I went with it.
Benjamin, ever gallant, escorted my aunt again. I think Brady was a little jealous that his brother had such an easy rapport with her.
“Your time will come,” I whispered in his ear as we walked down the hall, feeling that after tonight, anything was possible.
“I hope so,” he whispered back.
Once we were all settled, I asked Caroline to pick her favorite Christmas song. She plopped down beside me on the piano bench. Brady sat near Aunt Lu. I could tell they were both a little stiff—but they were trying. And that meant everything.
Caroline chose “Jingle Bells.”
“Want to help me play it?” I asked.
“Yep!” she shouted.
I scooped her onto my lap and guided her tiny hand along the keys as we played the melody. We sang together, just the top line, hearts light and voices full.
When we finished, the room erupted into a standing ovation.
“We need to bow,” I instructed her.
“That’s silly,” she replied.
“That’s how all great pianists do it.”
We bowed dramatically. Our tiny audience clapped even louder. Brady beamed at me—I winked in return.
Aunt Lu turned and looked at Brady. I could see it in her eyes—she was trying to figure him out, wondering how this man might fit into our family.
Brady joined me at the piano.
Caroline hopped over to sit beside my aunt, who clearly preferred her new seatmate.
I chose “Breath of Heaven” for the next piece. Its lyrics were tender, and the accompaniment fit my range perfectly. Most importantly—Aunt Lu loved it.
“Can I sit on your lap?” Brady asked, low and cheeky.
“No, but I’ll sit on yours later,” I murmured back.
“Much better plan,” he groaned, just for me.
“Okay, lovebirds, knock it off and start the show,” Benjamin called.
Brady and I chuckled, and I began to play.
I’d forgotten how much I missed performing. And this—this was my favorite crowd.
When I finished, I glanced at Aunt Lu. She looked like the proud momma she always had been. She blew me a kiss—just like she did after every performance. Even tonight.
I loved it.
Caroline clapped like her tiny hands were powered by sugar. Her parents followed, just as enthusiastic.
Brady and I stood together. He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.
I couldn’t have been happier.
Or more hopeful.