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He stops spraying and stares at me. “You and Evie have gotten close,” he says, and it’s a statement, not a question.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, and I reach up and tug on the collar of my t-shirt. We’d changed out of our dress clothes after the service.
“You in love with her?” he asks plainly, as if he’s asking me if I like the barbecue chicken.
I heave in a breath and let it out slowly. “Pretty sure I am, yes,” I admit.
He smiles softly and shakes his head. “I remember when her mama and I were dating. God, that woman could turn me inside out. She liked nothing more than to gripe at me.” He grins even bigger. “And I loved every second of it. Never a dull moment with that one. Still isn’t,” he adds almost reverently. “She still floats my boat.”
“My mom and dad are the same way.” I grew up watching them love one another. That was never in doubt. I never fully understood how they made it all work. My dad worked long hours and my mom kept busy with me and school and sports and her civic duties. After I left for college, they became people I didn’t know as well anymore, and that was okay. They were still my parents, but they were suddenly people too. And that part was the kicker.
“I don’t think that young men still go and ask the father’s permission to ask for their daughter’s hand, do they?” He starts to spray the chairs again. “I think those days are over.”
“Did you go and ask for your wife’s father’s permission?”
He snorts out a laugh. “I did, actually. I nearly shit myself in the process.” He chuckles at the memory. “Her dad didn’t make it easy. He wanted to know how I’d support her, where we’d live, and what our plans were for the future.”
“Did you know all that at the time?” I ask.
“Didn’t have a clue,” he says honestly. “But we made it all work out.” He stops spraying. “You ever think about getting married?”
I didn’t until Evie came back to town. Now it’s all I can think about. “Sometimes,” I admit timidly. I scratch the end of my nose. “I’m not sure Evie is quite ready to marry me,” I add.
“You won’t know until you ask,” he says baldly, his gaze direct.
“If…ah… If I were to want to ask her…” I cough into my fist. “Do you think you and your wife would approve?” I’ve never felt quite so exposed. It’s like I’m standing here in my underpants, right in front of a man I’ve respected and admired for decades.
“I’d approve of anybody Evie said yes to,” he answers. “Evie knows her own mind. She doesn’t need me butting in.” He heaves out a breath. “She did have one young man come and see me. He brought a ring and showed it to me, and he asked for my permission.”
“And what happened?”
“I said yes. Evie said no.” He snorts out a laugh. “Apparently, he wasn’t the right one.” He picks up a few of the now-clean chairs and hands me the sprayer. “You keep spraying, and I’ll take these and set them up.”
I nod my head as I go get a few more chairs from the shed and hose those down too. A man walks around the corner carrying a few towels. “Heard you need some help,” he says. He starts to towel off the chairs. “I’m Bobby,” he says after a minute or two.
“Friend or family?” I ask. I know a lot of the people here, a lot more than I thought I would. I’ve met them through the years at Ms. Markie’s house.
“Both, I guess. I’m Cathy’s first husband. Her daughter’s father.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Grady,” I say.
He wipes the chairs off one by one after I spray them.
“So, you and Evie, huh?” he says with a grin.
I nod, not sure what he’s asking.
“Out of all the nieces and nephews, that one reminds me the most of my Cathy,” he says almost reverently. “She’s full of piss and vinegar.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“I wasn’t strong enough to be a good partner for Cathy,” he says. “That’s why she moved on. I couldn’t keep up with her. She was always on me about something or other, and I just wanted a quiet life. Being with Cathy was like being on my toes all the time. I always felt like Evie was a lot like that.” He shakes his head. “It’ll take a strong man to corral that one. I never could fence Cathy in.”
That’s the thing. I don’t want to fence Evie in. I like how wild she is. I like how strongly she feels things, and I like how strongly she lets me know how she feels about…well, about everything.
“I wish you the best with that one.”
“Thanks. So tell me, why didn’t it work out with you and Cathy?” I ask. Because maybe I can learn something from this man, at least enough to not make the same mistakes, perhaps.
