22. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
We were on the countdown to Christmas—ten days to go. And I still didn’t know what to get Brady. I knew what he wanted , but we kept coming up empty during Sunday dinner.
My aunt still refused to call him Brady. At least she hadn’t referred to him as that Jackson boy lately. Her new tactic seemed to be avoiding his name altogether, expecting he’d just know when she was talking to him. I supposed that was something.
She was happy to be home. But she didn’t like me fussing over her. She wanted to be independent again—still the caretaker, not the one being cared for.
So, I let Doris tend to her. That seemed to strike the right balance. It didn’t impinge on her dignity, and she got to feel like herself.
We spent our afternoons working on puzzles and writing Christmas cards. She also helped with my fan mail, which now came to her house. I think it gave her real joy to read those treasured notes and help me respond.
She signed every letter Aunt Calliope.
Tuesday was show-and-tell. Brady met me at Caroline’s school—which happened to be our old grade school.
Brady and I met in the parking lot and walked in together. On the way, we reminisced about our own days there—the days we weren’t allowed to speak to each other, let alone be in the same class.
It sounded ridiculous. Because it was. Hate had done so much damage to this town.
We checked in at the front office, and lo-and-behold, Mrs. Rhodes was still manning the desk—same hair, same glasses, same tight-lipped curiosity. She gave us a look. I wasn’t sure if it was disapproval or confusion. Either way, we just smiled politely and kept moving.
I was still trying to follow Brady’s lead—no flinching at stares, no reacting to whispers. But if I had to guess, we’d be the talk of the teacher’s lounge before recess.
We picked up our name tags and walked hand in hand to Caroline’s classroom.
As soon as we stepped inside, Caroline jumped out of her seat with the kind of excitement that could power a small town. She darted straight for us, wrapping herself around me without hesitation.
Her teacher, Miss Ferrell, greeted us as well, with a polite smile fixed in place.
Brady didn’t seem bothered that Caroline came to me first—in fact, he looked pleased. It reminded me of his “Aunt Ellie” comment, and how much I wanted that title to be real someday. But after this weekend, his momma was out for blood. Mine, specifically.
Miss Ferrell gathered the students into a semi-circle on the carpet, their squirmy energy buzzing all around. Caroline stayed pressed beside me as the introductions began.
A few faces lit up when they recognized me. I caught whispers about the lady on the backs of their books, and a couple of shy waves.
I waved back, touched and a little surprised.
Once the class was settled—as still as five-year-olds ever get—Miss Ferrell turned it over to Caroline.
Caroline proudly stood in front of her class. “This is Miss Ellie,” she announced with flair. “She writes the Aunt Calliope and Jane books. She even read them to me one night—and I got to slide on her floor.”
She pointed to Brady. “This is my Uncle Brady. He loves Miss Ellie, and they’re going to get married.”
She plopped down like she hadn’t dropped any bombshells at all, even as giggles rippled through the room.
Brady squeezed my hand and gave me a knowing smile. What were we going to do with that girl?
Miss Ferrell clapped her hands to settle everyone down, her expression somewhere between amused and mildly panicked.
Brady and I took our spots at the front of the room.
I began reading. Brady played sidekick—complete with sound effects and silly movements—which quickly became the crowd favorite.
His performance earned a thunderous round of applause.
He was a natural with kids, and seeing that lit something bright inside me.
Afterward, the class asked questions about Jane’s adventures. Then came the surprise—copies of the book for each child.
Their faces lit up. That was why I loved my job. But the proud look on Brady’s face? That was why I loved my life. And why I loved him.
Just before we parted ways in the parking lot—him heading back to the bank, me off to lunch with Kendra—he turned to me. “Will you come to Atlanta with me on Friday?”
“Sure.” I smiled. “What’s the occasion?”
“Benjamin put out some feelers for me, and a bank there is interested in me for the position of VP of Lending.”
I was so touched by his willingness to move away from Kaysville, and a job that I think he really liked, and his house that he loved. I put my hand over my heart. “Brady Jackson, I love you.”
He smiled. “So, is it a date?”
“I think Doris can spend the day with my aunt, so yes.”
He kissed me goodbye. “Have a great time with Kendra. I’ll see you tonight. I have a feeling tonight’s the night your aunt is calling me Brady.”
I shook my head at him. I wasn’t sure I could agree with his assessment. He had tried almost desperately the night before, but to no avail. I loved Brady’s optimism, and I inwardly hoped she would too, but I knew her, and I had a feeling she knew about our little bargain.
I met Kendra at Macie’s. Figured I might as well give the town something more to talk about. If I’d been feeling truly devilish, I would’ve told her to wear an Auburn shirt and worn one myself. The looks we’d get? Legendary. Then again, we stirred up enough attention as it was.
Sunday had kicked a hornet’s nest. It wasn’t all bad—there were some who appeared ready to finally accept Brady and me—but for a lot of folks, it was unsettling. Change always seemed to rattle this town. It’d been entrenched in its ways for decades.
The ones struggling the most? Mrs. Jackson’s loyal court. A few of those dears were lunching nearby, serving up a buffet of vile looks. Kendra, bless her, took it like Brady—smiled through it and let it roll off her back.
I tried. But it was hard.
This right here was why I never came back to Kaysville—because I didn’t want to face this kind of behavior again. Those women made Atlanta sound better by the bite.
Maybe Brady’s interview would go well. He didn’t need a job to make the move, but I knew him—being a breadwinner mattered, and I’d never even dream of suggesting otherwise.
Kendra and I grabbed a table as far from the main area as we could manage. I had a feeling she came armed with juicy details about her mother-in-law. And I couldn’t help but wonder: was it possible to marry Brady and somehow . . . skip the in-laws?
We ordered our food, and before the waitress even left, Kendra gave me a sly smile. “The big guns have been called in,” she said. “Beau and Booker—and their families—will be here for Christmas. Thanks to you.”
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t they come for Christmas anyway?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, no, this was their year for Thanksgiving. They were just here. But under the circumstances, plans have changed.”
“What circumstances?”
“Oh, honey. I’ve never seen Elizabeth this out of sorts. She’s beside herself over the impending nuptials and the possibility of Brady moving away. And Isaac refuses to talk Brady out of it, which is only driving her crazier.”
I let out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. Why did she care so much? It wasn’t like I was asking Brady to choose between me and his family.
She was doing that.
“Does Brady know?” I asked.
Kendra folded her hands. “Yes. And . . . Brady told us about Saturday night. His suspicions. As much as it pains Benjamin, he agrees. They’ve both come to believe their parents’ marriage lacked love. But what kid wants to admit that?”
“Kendra, I’d hate to think that’s true. But if it is—why did they ever get married?” I paused. “I mean, aside from the fact that she was pregnant.”
She shrugged. “Benjamin said they’ve never been an overly affectionate family. Their daddy’s always been guarded with his emotions. I think it was just . . . a different time. A different kind of expectation.”
“So, what does she hope to accomplish by having Beau and Booker here?”
“I think she’s hoping they’ll do what they did last time—convince Brady he’s making a mistake. That blood is thicker than water.”
My face went cold.
Kendra reached for my hands. “Don’t worry, Ellie. Brady’s not going anywhere. And Benjamin’s been trying to talk some sense into his older brothers—and their momma.”
“Any luck?”
She gave a half-hearted smile.
“I knew it was too much to hope for.”
“Ellie, who cares what they think? Seriously. Benjamin says they just need to get to know you. Everything they’ve heard is secondhand—from Elizabeth.”
“Hmm. I don’t exactly see them inviting me over for tea while they’re in town,” I laughed, but I was serious. I paused. “Well, unless they think they can get away with poisoning me.”
Kendra grinned. “Oh, come on. You know wicked witches use apples.”
We burst into laughter, the kind that clears the air. And in that moment, I knew—Kendra and I were going to be the best of friends.
I left the restaurant in quite a mood.
On one hand, I felt great—Kendra was hilarious, and there was nothing like girl talk over lunch to lift your spirits. But her news about Brady’s family had me worried and more than a little annoyed. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? What did they think I was going to do—hex their bloodline?
I was so stirred up, I drove straight to the bank instead of heading home. I needed to see Brady.
My walk through the bank lobby drew plenty of glances. Margaret, the teller manager who’d been so delightfully rude to me before, got a smug little smirk from me as I passed.
Brady’s executive assistant, thankfully, was sweet and ushered me right in.
Brady looked surprised—but delighted—when I walked through the door. That delight shifted to concern the second he saw my face. I wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine.
As soon as the door clicked shut, he wrapped me in his arms.
“Darlin’, what’s wrong?”