Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Mom, Rita, and I gave Heather and Wyatt a hearty welcome when they arrived at the back door of my apartment. My mother hadn’t yet met “the boyfriend,” though she’d heard about “the grandson.” I doubt she knew how handsome and famous he was.
To my relief, Wyatt made a nice fuss about seeing Rita, his grandmother. “You look wonderful,” he gushed. “I’m so glad you were able to stay with Jodie prior to the festivities.”
She smiled, although I felt certain she thought No thanks to you. I could practically read her mind. “It’s been nice, Wyatt. We’re glad you came, too. Of course, we expected Heather because she’s in the bridal party.”
“I can hardly wait,” Heather exclaimed jubilantly.
I gave her a hug. “Me, either, my friend.”
We all chatted for a bit until I said, “I’ll show you and Wyatt to your room. You’ll be upstairs next to my parents.”
“That’s nice,” she replied, giving my mother an authentic smile. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to visit.”
“I thought the same thing,” Mom returned. “Anyway, when you get settled, we’re going over to Brad’s house for supper. It’s just too cramped in here to fit all of us.”
Heather chuckled, though it sounded like a snort. “I know what you mean. I couldn’t get rid of this place fast enough.” Wyatt caught her eye and they grinned as if in agreement.
Pulling one of their bags, I led them through the kitchen door and up the steps to the second floor. “Do you remember when we tossed the consignment clothes and shoes over the banister?” I asked her. “That was so much fun.”
“What a nightmare,” she noted, turning to Wyatt. “My aunt filled this place from top to bottom with old clothing and furniture. You just can’t imagine what it looked like.”
“Thank goodness you were able to dispose of that stuff,” he remarked. “There’s a bit of an odor up here.”
“We’re renovating,” I explained. “We’re adding an outdoor staircase and doorway, as in your grandmother’s shore home, with appliances for a kitchenette, laundry, and lounge. The TV’s set up in there if you’re in the mood to watch at night.”
Heather winked at me. “We’re busy with other things then, but we appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
I ignored that comment as I took them to their room, then told them I’d meet them downstairs. Glancing at my watch, I said, “We’ll see you at three-thirty in the kitchen.”
Heather replied nonchalantly, “Will my daughter be joining us for supper?”
“No, but she’ll be at the wedding on Saturday.” I refrained from mentioning Alicia’s total refusal to participate in all of the pre-wedding activities.
“That’s fine,” Heather said, shaking off her feelings. “Wyatt and I will be down in a few minutes.”
I left them, wondering what happened to my quirky friend who let the universe inspire her with joy and peace. This new side of her didn’t feel right to me.
My mother suggested that we prepare our meal in Brad’s kitchen, which he agreed was a great idea.
I had a key to his home but had never used it, so it felt weird to unlock his door while he was still at work.
It probably looked comical if anyone had seen me bending over the lock with four adults watching me.
Mom and I explored the cabinets to find the pots and pans we’d need for the pork roast and sides.
Rita instructed Wyatt and Heather about the setup for appetizers, since they’d used their car to take us and the food to Brad’s house.
Dad planned to arrive after he purchased the paint for the upstairs apartment.
“This place is cool,” Heather noted, looking around. “I don’t know why you haven’t moved here already.”
“I preferred to wait until my wedding night,” I said simply. She didn’t bother to reply.
Mom involved me in preparing the rub for the roast, and I appreciated knowing her secret recipe. At one point, she leaned in to whisper, “Let Rita handle Heather and her grandson.” I found it to be good advice.
With our roast and a savory bread dressing in the oven, I turned to our guests. “We have wine, beer, or sparkling water to offer. Which would you prefer?” Thank goodness, Brad had filled his refrigerator with all sorts of beverages.
My father and Brad arrived together, joining us in the living room for our happy hour. Dad already had splatters of paint in his hair. “It smells good in here,” my fiancé remarked, handing my father a beer.
“Wait until you taste my wife’s pork loin,” Dad noted with a grin. “It’s better than anything you can do on the grill.”
“I don’t know about that,” Brad countered.
I laughed, enjoying the banter between the two of them. It continued, even as Brad gave our guests a full tour of his home.
“You have to realize,” he noted, “My grandfather gave this piece of his property to my parents as a wedding gift, and plans for the house called for a smaller footprint yet a similar design. After my parents died, I used my spare time to remodel this place.”
“You’re pretty handy,” Dad told him.
Rita jumped in. “This is my first time here, although I knew of his talent because of the renovation he did in my bathroom. Doing this kind of work is his calling, not landscaping.”
“I’m sure he’s chosen a career that makes him happy,” Mom remarked, “and we needn’t interfere. Now, I’d like some help in the kitchen if we’re going to get supper on the table anytime soon.”
With the home’s open floor plan, those of us in the kitchen could participate in the conversation with those in the living room, and I liked that. In fact, while setting the table, I started to feel as if I belonged here. Could my mother have finagled my transition to married life?
I caught her eye and she winked at me.
Brad reached for the crystal wine glasses in the dining room hutch.
When I admired their intricate etched design, he leaned in to tell me they’d been his mother’s favorite wedding gift from her mother, not his dad’s mother.
“These were very special to Mom because her mother died when I was just a toddler. I’m happy you like them. ”
I reached to kiss him. “I’m glad you told me their history. That makes these glasses all the more special.”
I’d never asked him about his mother’s side of the family, yet didn’t know why. He usually spoke about his grandparents on his father’s side, but not the other grandparents. I tucked that thought aside until we could talk about them later.
With the wine poured, steaming side dishes arranged on the table, and the platter of sliced pork carried to the center, Mom called for everyone to take a seat. Brad insisted that Dad sit at the head of the table and the other six of us gathered around.
Conversation never lagged as we enjoyed a delicious meal, and it made me thankful that the important people in my life could have this time together in what would soon become my home.
Yes, we’d gather at a restaurant for supper after our rehearsal, and we’d celebrate at our reception, but this intimate gathering meant more to me than what lay ahead.
Dad clinked his glass for our attention, then raised it.
“Mom and I are so grateful to be with you and our future son-in-law this week, and we wrote a poem in honor of the occasion.” He pulled a sheet of note paper from his pocket and read: “Roses are red and hydrangeas are blue; Jodie made us happy when she chose you.”
With a flourish, he pointed at Brad, and we all laughed.
“Wait, I’m not finished yet. We wish you happy days ahead, and good health, and a successful business, and the joy of growing old together as your mother and I have.”
I smiled when everyone echoed a sing-song “Awww.” Brad took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Mom and Dad,” I said. “That meant a lot to me.”
“It has potential for the wedding day,” Rita noted, “but it might need a little work.”
Dad chuckled. “I’m sure the best man will come up with something better at the reception. We meant that poem for tonight and we thank each of you for being here with us.”
Brad raised his glass. “Peonies are red and hydrangeas are blue; I knew Jodie was right for me, but didn’t count on you, too.” His finger pointed to Mom and Dad. “Thank you for being my new parents.”
I could see that his words touched my mom and dad, and I loved him anew for that. My eyes captured their expressions better than a photograph, and it was ingrained in my head. They had needed for me to find love again, yet they wanted to be included.
How had I not known that? Brad knew, and I’d forever be grateful.