AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s just, let’s help Mom get ready for her romantic evening time. C’mon Mama. We owe you this. Let us help.”
She pursed her lips, glanced at the mirror again, and nodded. “To tell you the truth, I’d be lost without you. He’s important to me. And you’re important to me, and it just doesn’t seem right that those two things shouldn’t be all bundled up together.”
Maya grinned, dashed away her tears, and pulled out her cellphone. And Vidalia wondered if the enormity of the guilt on her shoulders could grow any larger. What would they think of her when they learned the truth?
* * *
Bobby Joe felt like a million bucks. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was in the peak of health as he got ready for his evening with Vidalia. He put the ring in his pocket. He couldn’t ask her until he told her the truth, of course, and he really didn’t want to tell her the truth until after Christmas, because it would ruin her holiday. But he didn’t know how things were going to go tonight, and he wanted to be prepared for anything.
He dressed nice. Wore a suit that accentuated his shape, which was still damn good, if he did say so himself. He added a bolo tie, because he thought she’d like that. And when he arrived, he didn’t show up empty handed. He brought a bottle of the best brandy he had—top-shelf stuff, remembering that she’d liked it—and a bouquet of Daisies he’d had to order from a town two hours away. It was not daisy season. But it was worth it when he saw them. Pretty white petals, around bright yellow centers, with fine mists of tiny blue forget me nots all in between.
He felt oddly nervous when he stood at her garland decked front door, facing a giant wreath, with his flowers in one hand, preparing to knock. He could smell whatever was cooking from outside, and it made his stomach rumble.
And then she opened the door, and he forgot everything else. She’d turned herself into a movie star, he thought. Makeup—just a little, but somehow it made her eyes sparkle and shine even more than usual, lined in black that way. And her hair, her riotous curls had been tamed into a long, sleek, gleaming style. She wore a long dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her lush cleavage, and a sparkling necklace of crystal snowflakes. And there was a slit up one side that showed peeks of thigh and made him tremble.
He released a long, slow whistle as his eyes devoured the high heeled, open toed shoes, and made their way back up to her face again. “Just when I didn’t think you could get any prettier. I guess you can gild a lily after all.”
She smiled, apparently approving of the compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself. Those boots make you almost too tall for me.”
“Then I’ll take ‘em off,” he said as he stepped inside, handing her the flowers and the brandy. “Two of your favorites, as I recall.”
“Thank you, Bobby Joe. You’ve got a good memory.”
“Not as good as I wish it was.” He winked at her.
She blushed, turning away to hide it and going to the sink for a vase and some water. She arranged the flowers, and unable to wait, he walked up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders. She bent her head sideways to run her soft cheek over one of those hands, and he thought he was the luckiest man alive, right now, tonight.
Setting the vase full of flowers aside, she turned in his arms, twisted hers around his neck, and standing up on tiptoe, kissed him in a way that whispered promises he knew better than to expect her to keep.
Then lowering down again, leaving his heart pounding like the hind foot of an alarmed jack rabbit, she turned and walked away. “Dinner’s ready. I thought we’d eat in front of the fireplace.”
“I thought I caught a whiff of wood smoke. That’ll be nice, Vidalia. Here, let me get that.” She was bending over the oven, removing two dinner plates, already loaded with food, and he waited until she straightened up to make his offer, because he was distracted by the view. He was polite, but he wasn’t crazy.
He took the plates from her, pot holders and all, and she said, “Go on in. I’ll get drinks. Wine with dinner okay with you?”
“And brandy with dessert,” he said.
She got wine glasses down while he carried their meals into the living room, and then he stood there for a moment, taking it all in. He’d had houses. Big ones that could be called mansions, though he hated the term. Smaller ones too, vacation places he bought and sold as the whim took him. There had been a beach house on the Gulf and a summer place up in the mountains of Tennessee that he’d kept but hadn’t visited in ages. He’d had a great big stately plantation style house in Dallas. Judith got that in the divorce. After that he’d moved into a modern architectural wonder with uneven peaks and as much glass as wood.
But this wasn’t a just house. This was a home. The living room was wide and warm. The furniture was arranged so it all sort of faced each other and the fireplace and the Christmas tree that stood in the corner to the right of it. The sofa was huge and soft, and it had a twin. Two double width recliners had been squeezed in there as well. He supposed with a family as big as hers, there needed to be plenty of places to sit. He went to one of the dual recliners, because the coffee table was in front of it, already set with a red and green checked cloth napkins with napkin rings that looked like holiday wreaths holding them, two sets of silverware already laid out, and tall glasses of ice water too.
He set the plates down, waiting for her to sit before he did. Then he joined her, nodding in appreciation as he did. That tree of hers had so many homemade ornaments there was hardly room for the few store-bought ones she’d added. Popsicle stick and yarn God’s eyes in every color combination you could think of. Tiny pewter frames with newborns all pink and wrinkly held within. Styrofoam balls lovingly painted by tiny hands. Pine cones dipped in glue, then rolled in glitter, dangling from strings. Every Christmas project of five young women and three grandkids decked that tree, and he thought it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, next to Vidalia herself.
“You like my ragtag mishmash of ornaments?” she asked.
He nodded. “I love it.” And I love you, he thought, but he didn’t say it just then. He didn’t want to keep putting pressure on her to reply in kind, and he thought every time he said it, that was probably what he was doing, intentionally or not.
The fireplace was brick, and three stockings hung from it, each with a different name spelled out in glitter. The grandkids. Tyler, Dahlia and CC.
Behind them the fire snapped and cracked and filled the room with warmth and holiday cheer. And the entire mantle was lined with holiday decorations, trees and Santas, a sleigh and reindeer, photos of the kids on Santa’s knee.
As he turned his attention to the plate of food in front of him, which included a T-bone steak that had apparently been sawed off a T-Rex, a baked potato already loaded with melting sour cream, a slice of warm homemade bread melting with butter, a mound of asparagus, and some glazed carrots, he wondered how he was going to eat it all.
“Don’t even start,” Vidalia said. “You’ve lost weight just since you’ve been here.”
“Have I?”
“Yeah, and you need to put some back on if you want me to be seen in public with you. I’m not going to walk around next to a guy who makes me feel chubby.”
