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“I really should have seen that coming,” I told Dick as we paired up at the altar and headed down the aisle.
“I don’t think anyone could have seen that coming,” Dick told me. We were ushered straight to the reception tables as Zeb and Jolene de-berged.
Gabriel’s smile could not be contained as he bent over my hand and kissed it. “You’re a vision.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Like the kind you see after a healthy dose of peyote?”
“No, you know, it sort of looks like something some of the more promiscuous girls might have worn in my day,” Gabriel said.
“On what planet is that a compliment?” I demanded as Dick laughed.
After a completely unnecessary number of photos, I pulled the happy couple aside and pulled an envelope out of a pocket in my skirt. (Oh, yeah, the “Ruffles and Dreams” came with pockets.)
“I have something for you,” I said. “It’s not six hundred dollars’ worth of pots and pans, but I think you’ll like it.”
“You’ve already done enough, Janie,” Zeb assured me.
Nonetheless, I handed Jolene an envelope. She raised an eyebrow at the paper contained within. “It’s a deed.”
“To a piece of land about halfway between Gabriel’s place and mine, in the back fifty acres. There’s also a check in there to cover the construction costs of a brand-new house.”
And that, combined with estimated costs of renovating and restocking the shop, would still leave me with quite a bit of money, which was disconcerting. I now felt the need actually to do something for myself but had no idea what that might be. It was like being held hostage by a retirement plan.
“That’s really sweet,” Zeb said. “But we just got out of a situation where we felt obligated—”
“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift.”
“We would really like to make our own way,” he said.
“Fine. Give me a dollar,” I said.
“What?”
“Just give me a dollar,” I said.
“I didn’t really think of putting my wallet in these pants,” he said.
Dick rolled his eyes and fished out his own wallet, an exact replica of Jules Winnfield’s from Pulp Fiction.
“I’ve never seen you so eager to give away money,” Gabriel told Dick.
“I want in,” Dick said. “All I got them was one of those George Foreman grills.”
Dick handed the bill to Zeb, who handed it over to me. In return, I handed him the envelope. “There, you have just purchased a plot of my land for one dollar.”
“I can’t—”
“Zeb,” I said in a warning tone.
“Fine, but I can’t take the check.”
“Think of it as a gift certificate, a really big gift certificate,” I told him. He began the protest. “Think of it as a gift certificate, or I’ll kick your ass at your own wedding reception.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t take anything you say seriously when you’re dressed like that,” Zeb said.
“I think we should do what she says,” Jolene whispered when I gave him the burning vampire stare of doom.
“Thanks, Jane,” Zeb said, hugging me fiercely.
