Chapter 32
“ B oo, will you get the door?”
“Sure, Mama. Probably somebody wanting to buy something.”
Dalia wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, straightened her apron, and started to leave the kitchen. But she caught her mother and daughter tittering over some kind of secret.
“What is it?” she asked.
“More like ‘who’ is it.” Her mama looked like a Cheshire cat.
Rose jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement.
“What are you up to?” Dalia shook her head, went through the living room, and flung open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Brody McIntyre all spiffed up in neat jeans and a tucked in button down shirt, open at the collar. He held a bouquet of pink roses.
“Hello, Dalia.”
The unexpected sight of him, the smell of his cologne, the look in his eyes – Dalia thought she might faint. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Well, hello. This is a surprise.”
“I believe that’s the way Rose planned it.”
“Rose?”
More tittering came from behind her, and she turned to find two conspirators holding hands in glee. Rose ran to their guest.
“Hello Mr. Mac-Tyre!”
“Hello, Rose. These are for you.” He handed her the flowers.
Her little mouth broke into a giant circle of delight. “Grammy! Look! They’re for me!”
“I see that,” Mamie said. “How about we invite our guest inside?”
“Oh. Oh, of course,” Dalia stammered. “Please come in.”
“In case you’re wondering,” he said as he stepped over the threshold and drank in his lover’s face, “while you were busy at market today, Rose invited me over for supper. I suggested she ask her grandmother if it was okay, and here I am.”
“Of course I agreed. Welcome to our home. Let’s go into the kitchen.
” Mamie waved at them to follow her. “Have a seat while Dalia and I finish fixing supper. Rose, honey, hand me your roses and I’ll put them in a vase.
We’ll set them right on the table where you can see them. That was so thoughtful of you, Brody.”
Rose agreed. “Yes. That was very thoughtful o’ you.”
Dalia watched as great big Brody McIntyre melted when her little girl addressed him.
She could tell Rose still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced he was okay, but the fact that she invited him over meant she was willing to test him out.
Dalia had no idea how the man normally behaved around children, but the pink roses were a hit. So far, so good.
Rose and Brody sat at the table while Dalia went back to tossing the salad she’d been working on.
“So,” she said, “this is why Mama insisted I comb my hair and put on a clean blouse after market today. I figured she didn’t want to eat with a slob.
I should’ve become suspicious when Rose suggested I put on some red lipstick. ”
Mamie arranged the roses in a pretty vase and set them on the table next to Rose. The little one giggled, looking up at Brody and innocently blinking flirtatiously.
When Mamie pulled a pan of lasagna out of the oven and set it on the stove, its steam rose to fill the room with the aromatic smell of Italian seasonings. She fanned it with a hot pad.
“Oh my word, that smells amazing.” Brody inhaled the heavenly scent. “Can I do anything to help?”
“No,” Rose insisted. “Grammy and Mommy like to do it their way.” She wasn’t willing to give up her new, albeit not entirely familiar, companion. “I helped set the table. I put down the plates. I did the spoons, too.” She held up her spoon as proof.
“Wow. You did an excellent job.”
“Thanks.” Rose guffawed as if embarrassed at the compliment. She still didn’t quite know what to make of this man.
There were only three place settings, so Mamie put out a fourth for Brody.
“We didn’t want Dalia to know anyone was coming,” she explained.
“There is one thing you can do, Brody.” She took a bottle of wine off the counter and handed it to him with a wine opener.
“Would you do us the honors, please?” She set out three wine glasses, too.
Wine poured for the adults, a glass of milk for the little one, and salad and garlic bread on the table, they all dug in as if they hadn’t eaten in a week.
When they finished their salads, Mamie placed the lasagna on a hot pad in the middle of the table and scooped it out in generous helpings.
“I hope you like spinach,” she said to Brody.
“It has a layer that adds a touch of zip.”
After one bite, Brody insisted it was the best lasagna he’d ever eaten. Dalia would have thought him merely placating her mother if she didn’t agree. Her mama’s cooking couldn’t be beat. Try as she might, she doubted she’d ever be as good.
Rose kept her vase of roses beside her, unwilling to let them get too far away.
Rover lay at her feet, ready for the inevitable morsel she’d drop his way.
From time to time, he’d get up and smell Brody’s shoes suspiciously, then, after deciding he could trust the dude, he’d go back to lie down by his girl.
The conversation revolved around the farm, the upcoming bakery, and being a deputy sheriff in a small town.
They learned that Brody had come to Farmdale because no deputy jobs had been available in the city where he’d always thought he’d work like the other men in his family.
The original plan was to work in Farmdale then move back home when a job opened up there.
But after only a short time, he’d fallen in love with small town life.
And he was only an hour away from his family.
Enjoying this lifestyle had been a surprise to him.
Dalia couldn’t help but wonder if she might have something to do with that enjoyment.
When they finished their meal, he insisted on helping clean up. “With three boys and a husband in the house,” he explained, “my mom had strict rules about us doing our part. We were taught we weren’t ‘helping’ because we were boys, we were doing our fair share.”
“Sounds like my kind of mother,” Mamie said.
“Yeah,” Dalia noted, “because that’s just like you.”
The mood was light, fun. Mamie turned on the radio and they washed and dried dishes to her favorite oldies but goodies soul music.
When she started to sway to the Temptations singing My Girl, Brody took the dish towel out of her hand and danced her around the room.
Mamie Blackburn floated in the young man’s arms, sheer joy on her face.
Dalia took Rose’s hands in hers and they danced, too.
Rover hopped around as happy as a puppy.
Throwing her head back and laughing when the song ended, Mamie picked up her towel and cheerfully swatted Brody. “Young man, that’s the most fun I’ve had dancing in ages,” she declared.
“Me, too,” he insisted.
Looking at him impishly, she said, “Well, we’re done here. It’s so much fun having a man in the house again. But Rose, love, it’s time for you to go to bed. And it’s my turn to read your bedtime story.”
Neither Dalia nor Brody missed the blatant set-up. Obviously, Dalia’s mother had evaluated this suiter over dinner and decided she wanted her daughter to have some private time with him, like an old-time courting arrangement.
“Um, Grammy, I, ah, don’t think so,” Rose said, faltering as her mind spun trying to make up an excuse. “It’s, ah, not my bedtime yet, I don’t think.”
“Little boo, look at the clock on the wall. Where is the little hand?”
“Um, it’s on the eight?”
“Correct. Where is the big hand?”
Rose sighed hopelessly. “It’s straight up.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ah, bedtime?”
“Say good night to our guest.”
“Good night, Mr. Mac-Tyre. Thank you for the roses.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Brody stooped down to her. “Oh. May I call you that?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Hey! You wanna see my bedroom? It’s pink like my roses. We can bring my roses, too.”
Brody glanced from mother to grandmother for permission. Each nodded okay.
“You can carry my roses, please.” Rose pointed and Brody did as instructed. The two of them trotted out of the room and up the stairs.
Mamie called out, “I’ll be up in a minute.”
Mother and daughter stared each other down as they stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“Mama, that was a bald-faced set-up.”
“I know.”
“You told Rose to ask him to dinner, didn’t you?”
“Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.” Mamie’s sing-song tone said she enjoyed this.
“Do you think I need that much help getting a date?”
“Seems like it to me.”
“You’re hopeless, do you know that?”
“Not hopeless, boo. A believer in hope. A believer in true love.”
Dalia dried the last pot as she thought about that. “Mama, you know I want to believe, too. But I’ve been terribly hurt in the past. I couldn’t take that again.”
Her mama put an arm around her shoulders. “I know. Boo dear, that’s all the more reason you deserve true love this time.”
“Well, I’m not saying I’m in love. But I will tell you that Brody and I are closer than you think. At least, so far. We still have a long way to go to truly know one another.”
“I know. That’s why spending some time with your family is important. It was time for him to get to know this side of your life, don’t you think?”
“It’s only been days since he and I have had an interest in each other. I’m not sure what it’s time for but thank you for this. It’s been a fun evening.”
“You’re welcome. And remember, I fell in love with your father the moment I laid eyes on him when I was eighteen years old.
Sometimes it doesn’t take long. Besides, the hormones bouncing around between you two are almost visible.
” Mamie chuckled and shook her head, then became serious.
“Boo, you two are so attuned to each other, it’s as if the mists of your souls mingle to become one. ”
Dumbfounded, Dalia gawked at her mama. She had to swallow before responding. “Okay, okay. Go read to your granddaughter before she tells my new boyfriend it’s okay to kiss me without red lipstick.”
“I’m on my way. Why don’t you go put on some red lipstick, eh?” Mamie went upstairs, leaving Dalia alone in the kitchen.
She looked around. It’d been an enchanting evening.
But would it last if they were all together every evening?
For the first time, a tough reality clicked in her brain.
If she did ever marry again, would her husband want to live here on the farm with his mother-in-law?
She couldn’t imagine leaving her mama out here alone and she couldn’t imagine her mother ever leaving here.
That was far too complicated to contemplate, so she shoved it from her mind. At least for the time being.
Mickey Gilley started singing You Don’t Know Me on the radio.
She loved that song and turned it up. Humming as she put dishes away in the cupboards, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
Their hips swayed together in time to the music.
She turned around to land in Brody’s arms and they danced, slowly, seductively, lost in one another.
He kissed her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder.
When she lifted her face to his, their kiss with its taste of sweet wine lasted until Mickey faded away and Sam Cooke crooned You Send Me.
The rhythmic mellow beat, Sam’s smooth voice, and the message itself enwrapped them in sexual desire so intense it was Brody who put a few inches between them and said, “Dalia. Oh Dalia. I can’t…
I mean, we’re in your house with your mom and your daughter and I need to back away. ”
He did just that, letting go of her. But she didn’t let go, moving back into him for a quick kiss. She took his hand. “Come,” she said, pulling him toward the back door.
“Ah, sweetheart, that’s the problem.”
Coquettishly, she led him across the yard and out to the barn. “The weather is so beautiful the sheep are in the pasture for the night. We have it all to ourselves.” She shoved open one side of the heavy barn doors.
They stepped inside and he couldn’t get the door closed fast enough.
Within seconds they lay upon a pile of fresh hay, moonbeams filtering in through thin slats between the wallboards to stripe the lovers in misty blue light.
He palmed her breast with one hand while balancing himself over her with the other.
She cupped his hard buns in her soft hands and pushed him harder and harder with each thrust. He paused for a split second as if considering trying to slow down, but it was far too late.
They reached their climaxes in unison, the rush of ecstasy overpowering them.
The full weight of his body fell on her and she reveled in the feel of him, all of him, as their bodies became as one. He rolled over to lie on his back beside her so as not to crush her to death. She hated his leaving but breathing was good, too.
They looked at one another and started to laugh.
“Damn.” He clapped a palm to his forehead in disbelief. “How long did that take? Thirty seconds?”
“Oh no. It was at least forty-five.”
“Under a minute, I’m sure.”
They couldn’t help but laugh as they rolled onto their sides to face one another, their hands instinctively going to each other’s bodies. She ran a hand down his hip. He took her breast in hand and stroked it as delicately as if it might break.
“Dalia, I’m in love with you.”
Taken aback, she became stock-still, unsure of what to say to that. They’d known each other for such a short time. But then a tide of desire and need and happiness rolled over her like an exhilarating ocean wave, lifting her up to look up into the light of love.
“I love you, too.” And she did, a realization that surprised her as much as it delighted her.
Brody took a sharp breath, kissed his beloved, and made love to her again until deep into the night. This time he went slowly, deliberately savoring every inch of her, every scent of her, every sight of her.
Dalia had fallen into a fairytale dream, she reckoned, because real life couldn’t possibly be this good. Or could it? What was it her mother had said when she’d said she was afraid of being hurt again?
“Boo dear, that’s all the more reason you deserve true love this time.”