8. Chapter 8
8
Chapter 8
Don
Don glanced around his bungalow as Sean finished replacing the armchair with the love seat by the piano—Wayne and Sandy would be here any moment for Sandy’s birthday linner, as Sandy called it. Don liked to eat no later than five, and Sandy and Wayne liked to eat much later in the night, so they’d compromised with a late lunch/early dinner. It’d been a few days since he’d invited Bluebell, and he was all nerves.
“What do you think?” Sean asked, wiping his brow before fluffing a pillow on the love seat, which now blocked half the piano.
Don stood in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips, staring at the new seating arrangement and frowned. “Nope. Move it back.”
Sean let out a long breath. “Okay, no. I got you.”
A knock sounded from the back door. “Come in!” Don barked.
“Don?” Polly stepped inside with Rosa close behind her. They scanned his bungalow, their eyes going wide as their gazes darted from one birthday decoration to the next.
Don had hung bubble garlands and twinkle lights from the ceiling across the open floor plan, there was a pink, white, and silver balloon arch by the front window, with more balloons scattered ankle-deep across the floor, and the table was draped in a white table cloth he’d covered in pink, sparkly confetti, had a bouquet of different pink flowers, more balloons but smaller than those on the floor, his carefully crafted strawberry shortcake, along with white chocolate and pink sprinkles drizzled popcorn, tacos, and a light-up number 30. Women didn’t like talking about their real ages—especially not once they crossed fifty, even less sixty.
And finally, he’d covered the piano in two-layered clothes, a bright pink and then pale pink one, and had placed his two gifts there, next to Amelia’s shoebox, that had been perfectly wrapped in pink paper with silver string by Samantha. Bless the girl. He’d also placed a plate of strawberry beignets on the piano. Sandy loved strawberry pastries. And Don couldn’t say he minded the scent of strawberries and cream that filled the bungalow.
Don waved them in as Sean huffed and puffed behind him as he moved the furniture.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Polly shook her head and pursed her red-painted lips.
Rosa’s eyes lit up. “ Que maravillosa . This is better than a quinceanera .”
“Do you think?” Don asked.
“ ?Si! ”
“You don’t think I need more confetti?” Don scratched his head. How much was too much glitter?
Rosa clasped her hands in front of her. “No, it’s perfecto .”
“It’s loco ,” Polly said. She’d given up whispering her thoughts in the last few days.
“Hey, ladies.” From his hunched-over position pushing the couch, Sean waved at the visitors.
“What are you doing?” Polly asked.
“Putting the loveseat back,” Sean said. He stood and let out a long breath before stepping forward.
“You’re all red in the face.” Rosa blinked.
Boy was a little sweaty to boot, but he looked nice in jeans, whole ones without holes in them like the ones Axel preferred, and a light blue Henley Don had told him to wear. Don recalled Bluebell liked the color on Sean. Though he worried the boy wasn’t getting enough exercise.
Don waved a hand through the air. “He’s been eating too many pastries, put on a few pounds.” Truth be told, it was part of the reason why Don had him moving furniture.
Sean rested a hand on his stomach. “Hey.” He sounded dejected. A little stomach pudge could do that to a man. He’d have him go jogging with him and the retirees in the morning all next week. That’d fix him up.
Moving closer to Polly and Rosa, Don lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be heard over the sound of Sean shuffling through a thousand balloons. “Bluebell’s coming.” A balloon popped, and Don looked over his shoulder.
Sean was still completely oblivious as he shouldered the furniture around.
“We know, that’s why we’re here,” Polly said, her eyebrows lowering into a firm glare. “We don’t break up engaged people.”
Rosa glanced up at her with big, round eyes. “Unless he’s horrible .”
Don wanted to hug the pocket-sized woman.
A balloon popped making Rosa, Polly, and Sean jump.
“Careful, son!”
“Sorry, Gramps—the chair tipped on a balloon.” Sean picked up the large chair and carried it the rest the way—kicking balloons as he shuffled.
Don ushered the ladies into the kitchen. “Listen, Bluebell’s fiancé is coming too. I figured if he came, we could evaluate the two of them together and make an informed decision.”
“Don—” Polly ran a hand over her eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t used to her being this exasperated. “I’m not worried about Jonah. I’m worried about you.”
Rosa touched Don’s arm. “We all are.”
“Why?” Don frowned. He was fine. Peachy. A-okay. Was that smudge on his stove? He rushed over and wiped it with the towel hanging from the stove’s handle.
Polly threw her arms up.
The doorbell rang, and a moment later, people were pushing in.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Don told Polly and Rosa. “She’ll be here soon, and I want your opinions.”
Rosa wrung her hands and nodded. Polly folded her arms over her chest.
A gasp sounded behind him in the direction of the door, stealing his attention. First inside were Wayne and Sandy. Don headed their way.
Wayne was wearing jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a knee-length tweed coat that made Don want to roll his eyes. His son dressed like he wanted to be a rock star right along with Axel, shaggy hair, and all, which he emphasized by tossing his head to get it out of his eyes. What kind of sixty-five-year-old man did that?
Sandy looked nice as always. She had her blond hair, peppered with white streaks, pulled up in a twist, had on white pants, and a pink button-up shirt with a sweater.
“Wow!” Sandy said, clasping her hands over her mouth. “This is amazing. You did this for me?”
Don gave them each a hug. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
Sandy hugged him tight. “Thank you, Don. This is wonderful.” A swell of emotion filled Don’s chest for his son’s wife. She’d always loved Don for who he was, despite what Wayne thought, just as she loved her husband for who he was. She’d always been a good mediator between them.
The second of Wayne’s boys was through the door next—Johnny’d managed to dress down today in a pair of gray checkered dress pants and a long-sleeved, V-neck sweater with black Oxfords—no socks. This time, Don did roll his eyes.
Johnny scanned the room with a hard, expectant gaze like he was preparing to head into battle. He hugged Don. “No Samantha today?”
“If it’d been my birthday, she’d be here,” Don said. “But I figured your mother would want you here for her party.”
Johnny’s jaw dropped at his implication that he’d pick Samantha over Johnny. “Gramps!”
Axel came up behind Johnny, holding Kate’s hand. He pushed an indignant Johnny out of the way. “I told you to be nicer to her.”
“I’m plenty nice to her,” Johnny grumbled. “She’s the one with the attitude.”
Stepping up to Don, Kate gave him a big hug. “You better get used to her attitude. She’s my best friend. She’s going to be around.”
Johnny quirked a grin at Kate. “Since you’re marrying my brother, I guess I can forgive you your poor taste in friends.”
Axel slugged Johnny in the arm, and Johnny flinched away with a dramatic lift of his leg.
Kate smiled at Don, then glanced around the bungalow, her eyes growing wider as she took everything in. “Oh, wow! This place looks . . .”
“Mental?” Johnny said under his breath.
Wayne whacked him upside the head. “Behave.”
“Nice!” Kate squeaked as her face turned red. Axel leaned in and kissed her on her temple.
“Thank you.” The tension that’d been growing in Don’s chest eased some more. Now that he had the approval of the birthday girl and Kate, he felt better. Polly and Rosa acted like he was out of control or something. Couldn’t a man do nice things for the women in his life?
Kate took off her jean jacket, showing a t-shirt with Bigfoot on it that read, “Believe in yourself, even when no one else does” under a large sweater. Okay . . . “How long did it take you to do all this?”
From his place in the newly moved armchair, Sean said, “We’ve been at it since the crack of dawn.”
From behind Kate and Axel came one sharp bark. Axel and Kate stepped apart—not releasing their hold on one another’s hands to let Bear and Sweetie through. The Palms’ mascots wore what looked like old-fashioned costumes.
Kate sighed the sigh of a woman who wasn’t at all upset but knew her charge had broken the rules. “They’re supposed to stay outside,” she said.
Sweetie made her way into the balloons on the floor, disappearing under them, the swishing of her tail knocking them left and right as she went, and Bear followed on his tether, doing knee-high steps to avoid balloons as they went.
Axel pulled Kate close again, and the sight warmed Don’s insides. He’d helped arrange the perfect happy ever after for one of his grandsons, surely he could manage it two more times. He glanced at Sean. And he was sure Bluebell was the girl for him. Then he looked at Johnny. He’d spread out on the couch already, arms over the armrest and the back, ankle over his knee, trying to look cool. Don shook his head. Johnny was a problem for another time.
“Who are they supposed to be?” Wayne asked pointing to the two creatures burrowing through the balloons like gophers and having a grand time of it.
Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. They just showed up at the library like that this morning.”
“Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth,” Polly said, sounding not at all happy. “Persuasion.”
Kate perked up. “I love a good Austen reference.”
Rosa had stars in her eyes. “To turn down the love of your life means to never have love at all.”
Sean cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling.
Don hadn’t helped Winnie dress them today, so he didn’t know much about these Austen characters, but based on Polly’s response, he was starting to think that maybe Winnie was on his side about Bluebell.
“If that isn’t the cutest thing?” Sandy said, watching the best friends go.
The balloons finally stopped moving where Sweetie was and Bear took a seat by Sean, who reached over the armrest to give Bear loves. He even dropped a hand below the balloons to pet Sweetie. “Who’s a good girl?” Bear barked. “And boy.” Sean asked, patting Bear again.
Bear wagged his tail back and forth, with loud resounding thuds on the hardwood floor sending more balloons flying.
The group made their way into the room, weaving through the decorations and being careful not to step on Sweetie or Bear’s tail as they placed their gifts on the piano next to Don’s.
“Hey Polly, Rosa,” Axel said, taking a seat on the sofa with Kate cuddled up to one side of him and Johnny spreading out on the other. “Where’s the rest of the group?”
“Busy today,” Rosa said. “Happy birthday, Sandy.”
Polly stepped forward with a little package and placed it on the piano. “This is from me, Rosa, Nancy, and Winnie.”
“Really?” Sandy smiled at them. “That’s so nice of you.”
Wayne clamped a hand down on Don’s shoulder and squeezed. “How are you doing, Dad?”
“Fine, fine,” he said.
“Are you sure because—” He darted a glance in Rosa and Polly’s direction.
“Of course I’m sure,” Don said. Why was everyone so worried about him? He stepped forward, pushing aside bubble garlands and twinkle lights hanging from the ceiling.
“Dad,” Wayne persisted. “You’re not okay. I’m mean look at this place.”
“Wayne,” Sandy warned.
“Got any popcorn, Gramps?” Johnny asked with a bewildering twinkle in his eye.
Kate reached across Axel and swatted Johnny.
Sean popped up. “I’ll get it.”
“Why is everyone hitting me?” Johnny asked.
“Because you’re asking for it,” Axel replied.
Don glanced around at the decorations. He thought it looked pretty good. “What’s wrong with it?” He’d spent hours on this.
“In all the years Sandy and I have been married, you’ve never put up so much as one balloon.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Now there’s an arch of them.”
“That’s for pictures!” Don barked.
Wayne rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Completely missing the point.”
Sean came back in with the bowl of white chocolate drizzled popcorn and sat on the armrest next to Johnny. The two dug in.
Don placed his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like the decorations, they’re not for you.”
“That’s not what I said.” Wayne pointed at Don. “You know what, never mind.” He threw both palms in the air.
Sandy placed a hand on Wayne’s arm. “Honey.”
Wayne signaled to Don with his whole hand, fingers together. “He’s not ready for it.”
“If you have something to say, son, say it.” Don arched a brow.
Wayne leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I have two patients, a married couple, who are extremely passive-aggressive. I got a flat tire on my way to work once and ended up being five minutes late. They spent our entire session angrily telling me they were fine.”
Don glanced back at Wayne as Wayne sat on the love seat next to Sandy. “What’s your point?”
“I’d take the passive-aggressives over your version of in denial—Fort Knox of denial,” Wayne said.
Johnny snorted.
“Exactly,” Polly replied.
Don snapped his gaze to her.
“Thank you, Polly,” Wayne said. Rosa had a hand on her arm.
The doorbell rang again, and a soft voice called from out the door. “Hello?”
Don spun just in time to see Bluebell walk in holding a little gold and pink-wrapped package. A big, blond guy came up behind her. Polly and Rosa came up behind Don, crowding behind him, and then glancing around him.
“Oh, good,” Bluebell sighed. “This is the right place.”
“We found it?” the guy with her asked, a wide smile crossing his face and showing his sheet-white teeth. Don could’ve sworn they sparkled. Mr. Sparkles wrapped one arm around Bluebell’s waist.
“ Santa María ,” Rosa said, eyes bulging as she looked at the door. “ Esta papacito .”
“ Si .” Polly murmured in agreement as she fanned her face.
And he was. Even Don could see that. The man was gorgeous. Tall, broad-shouldered, strong-jawed, good lean muscles and Don supposed those baby blue eyes of his didn’t hurt with the ladies. He even dressed well. Manly. He wore khaki pants and a flannel shirt.
A not-so-manly yelp came from the direction of the couch and popcorn went flying.
Don glanced that way just as Sean disappeared under a pile of balloons.
“My popcorn!” Johnny cried out.
“Hi, there,” Mr. Sparkles said, extending his hand. “I’m the new guy.”
“Well . . . doggone blinking heck fish sticks.” Don frowned.
Rosa gasped. “Watch your mouth.”
He couldn’t. He had to keep one eye on the freaking Adonis that’d just walked through his door and the other on his grandson dog-crawling through balloons.