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“Mama, they aren’t even expectin’ dessert. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
She nods. “You’re right. I just don’t like people goin’ without.”
We get out of the car, and I grab the muffins then follow behind her. The temperature is perfect, and the sky is blue without a cloud in sight as we walk across the parking lot toward the entrance. Making sure to be a gentleman, I open the door for her, and she walks in. The room is packed full, and people yell, “Surprise,” just as balloons fall from the ceiling. At first, Mama is confused because she really believed the lie, then she immediately puts the pieces together. She never really makes a big deal about her birthday, and over the years we haven’t either, so it’s bound to be a shock to her for so many people to care. Covering her mouth with her hands, her emotions take hold, and she holds back tears of joy as Benita, Patsy, and Charlotte all walk up and tell her happy birthday.
“I shoulda known you three were up to somethin’,” Mama tells them with hugs. “But I have to admit, you got me. I even made muffins!” She turns and points at the containers I’m holding. I smile, and Benita takes them from my hands and carries them to the kitchen.
Across the room, I see River is laughin’ to the point of tears and sitting next to her is Jackson who’s obviously running his mouth. Whatever he’s saying to her is probably about me and embarrassing as fuck. By how John keeps rolling his eyes, I know it is.
I walk toward them, trying to break up whatever is goin’ on, but it doesn’t really work. As soon as I make it to the table, River swallows down her laughter, but the big smile on her face doesn’t falter. Honestly, Jackson can keep talking, especially if whatever he said makes her this happy.
“What’s so funny?” I lift an eyebrow at her, and she snorts.
“Nothing, cow patty,” Jackson says with a smirk. Now I know why John had that reaction. It’s the story that’ll never die, apparently.
“And he walked around with cow shit on his ass all day and had no idea. He looked like he shit himself. Even went to town like that.” Jackson pats his leg, overly amused with himself.
“River, if you keep encouraging him, he’ll never stop talking!”
“There was another time Alex decided he was gonna be a big rodeo star,” he continues.
I walk over to River, grab her hand, and pull her away.
“Wait, I wanted to hear that story,” she says with a grin.
Mama walks up to us, and I give her a big hug. “Love you, Mama. Happy Birthday!”
“Happy Birthday, Mrs. Rose,” River says.
Unexpectedly, Mama pulls her into a hug. “Thank you, hon. Thanks for helping set up too. Benita told me. It’s beautiful. The decorations. Everything.”
“You’re welcome.” River hugs her back while looking at me over Mama’s shoulder with wide eyes. I give her a wink and a grin. It may have taken a little while for Mama to start coming around to the idea of us being together and River having my baby, but I think everything’s gonna be just fine.
Soon Aunt Patsy announces it’s time to eat and everyone starts lining up and grabbing plates. I take it as my opportunity to introduce River to aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends. Considering there are so many people here, and our family is so large, I don’t imagine she’ll be remembering anyone’s names, which is okay. We fill our plates with food and grab big glasses of sweet tea, then sit with Benita, Aaron, and Dylan.
River instantly starts chatting with Dylan like they’re old friends. “Not been in any large bodies of water lately, right?” River kids.
“No, ma’am. I’m staying away from all beaches and lakes unless I’m in a boat.” Dylan laughs, continuing to make small talk.
Just as Dylan starts talking about Key West to Benita, River takes a huge gulp of sweet tea and starts coughing. “What the hell!”
“What?” I ask, sipping my tea.
“How do you drink that? It tastes like overly sweetened toilet water.”
The three of us burst into laughter. “No, it doesn’t. It tastes like a delicious honey drink.” I clink my glass with Dylan’s, and we drink it down like it’s the sweetest nectar in the south. She pretends to throw up in her mouth a little.
“You better get used to it, River. Us Southerners drink sweet tea by the gallons,” Dylan tells her.
“I’d throw up because apparently, I don’t have the taste buds for it. Can you get me a bottle of water, pretty please?” River turns and asks me sweetly.
Dylan looks at me like I’m whipped, and maybe I am, but I don’t hesitate to get up and grab a bottle of water. When I sit back down, River’s laughing at Benita’s twins who are too busy playing with their food instead of eating it.
