Simple Gone South (Crimson Romance) (18 page)

What if he stayed here? What if he could put this family back together? Then, maybe he could confess what he had done and they would forgive him.

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that now.

“I know right where the ice cream maker is at home,” Charles said. “We’ll stop by there first.”

Annelle Meade Interiors was the only shop in Merritt that had no Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving. Maybe even Halloween. It was one of Annelle’s many eccentricities. The holly and the glitter would come out the day after Thanksgiving and not one second before.

Consequently, Black Friday started in a whirl and way too early for Lucy. She, Annelle, and Pam hit the ground running at five
A.M.
so they could decorate in time for the ten o’clock opening. Over the years, Annelle had become known for her unconventional attitude about the timing of her decorations as well as her unique approach. Just because she refused to decorate until after Thanksgiving didn’t mean she had not been working on her secret design for months. At the appointed time, people would pour into the shop for refreshments and to purchase the baskets of ornaments and rolls of ribbon that were duplicates of what Annelle used for her creations.

Annelle had gotten the idea for the Christmas Wedding theme last December when Tolly and Nathan had sprung on everyone, with three weeks notice, that they were getting married two days before Christmas. It had nearly killed all concerned, but the wedding had been a crystalline and velvet dream with the bride wearing her grandmother’s dress, the groom beside himself with joy, and three very tired attendants. Much of the work had fallen to Lucy since Missy had just given birth to Lulu and Lanie was very pregnant with John Luke. But it had been fun, though Lucy had wondered at the time if she would ever have a wedding of her own.

And she wondered it now, as she decorated the mantle with antique wedding veils, tiny white lights, silver bells, and gossamer ribbon.

In fact, it seemed even more improbable now. She knew that Brantley was no more a possibility than he had ever been, but now marrying anyone else seemed unthinkable. Because, God help her, she loved him, had loved him since her fifteenth summer. But that didn’t change anything. She just needed for her head to keep reminding her heart that this was temporary. She’d known that going in. But she was in deep. If she hadn’t been before yesterday, she would be now. Thanksgiving had been such
fun
and the capper was when Charles and Brantley came back with that ice cream maker, bags of ice, and rock salt. Annelle had left shortly after lunch to work on nosegays for today, but Lucy had watched football until almost midnight with Brantley, Charles, and Miss Caroline. She’d even given in and cuddled under a throw with him while they ate ice cream. And there had been nothing like it with his arms around her and the taste of happy vanilla childhood in her mouth.

She rearranged a bit of ribbon and aged ivory lace.

Annelle came up behind her. “Beautiful, Lucy. Absolutely magical.”

“It’s lacking something.” Lucy stood back. “I had thought to put nosegays at three strategic points but it’s too much. What do you think of this instead?” She randomly scattered little bunches of dried baby’s breath on the mantle shelf.

“Perfect,” Annelle said. “I think these are the prettiest decorations we’ve ever had.”

It was true. Lucy surveyed the shop. The trees, wreaths, and garlands were covered in little bridal bouquets, lace hearts, tiny top hats, silver doves, gold rings, blown glass wedding cakes, and sparkling snowflakes. White poinsettias were covered in crystalline glitter and their bases wrapped in white tulle. The refreshments for the open house were individual exquisitely frosted wedding cakes, and Champagne served in old-fashioned punch cups. Those cups made some of the older women nostalgic for their weddings from the days before everyone abandoned punch cups for wine glasses.

Lucy put the finishing touches on the mantle and arranged a dozen veils on a chair nearby. She would put baskets of the ribbon, lights, bells, and baby’s breath near the veils so that everything to recreate that mantle would be in one place. She carried her ladder to the storeroom. They opened in twenty-three minutes and she also still needed to set up the display of beeswax Christmas candles and lace gloves.

Missy came in as soon as the doors opened. “Annelle’s a genius,” Missy said, clutching a basket of merchandise.

“I used to doubt it,” Lucy said. “But by now, everybody’s tired of everything else in town. They are ready to see something new.”

“At this rate, there won’t be a thing left by five o’clock,” Missy said, glancing at the line at the counter.

“Don’t kid yourself,” Lucy said. “There’s more where this came from. She just doesn’t like for everyone to know how plentiful it is.”

“I’ve got to go,” Missy said. “I’ve got to get started on my food for tomorrow. Speaking of . . .” She shifted her basket to her other arm. “I expect you to declare your loyalty a little better than you have in years past.”

Missy did not think the crimson headband with ROLL TIDE stitched across the top showed enthusiastically enough that Lucy rooted for the University of Alabama over Auburn in the annual grudge match.

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Lucy said without conviction. When she got off work, all she intended to remedy was how tired she was. And it wasn’t even 10:30
A.M.

Business was hectic. By noon, they had not only replenished the ornament baskets twice, but had sold three large pieces of furniture, five rugs, and a fair amount of other odds and ends. Lucy was just about to replenish the refreshment table when Lanie and her sister-in-law came in.

“Arabelle!” Lucy gave her a hug. “It’s so good to see you.” It had been over a year. After finishing her residency, Arabelle had spent a year in Africa as part of the Doctors Without Borders program. Where was it Lanie had said she was working now? Virginia? Georgia? “Welcome home.”

“It’s good to be home,” Arabelle said.

“We came to rescue you for lunch,” Lanie said with a laugh. “Emma and John Luke are with their grandparents at the farm. Arabelle and I are going to eat, shop, drink some wine, and shop some more.”

“Well, you can start with the shopping and eating here. We even have Champagne.” She gestured to the refreshment table. “But I can’t go to lunch.”

Pam crept up and waited for Lucy to meet her eyes.

“Mrs. Gilchrist wants your help with some pillows,” Pam said.

Barbara Gilchrist was known for dropping hundreds of dollars at a time for small items—and then redecorating a whole room to match them.

“Oops.” Lucy gave Lanie and Arabelle brief hugs. “Got to go, but I’ll see you at Missy’s party tomorrow?”

On her way to Mrs. Gilchrist, two other people stopped her to ask a question. And so it went the rest of the day.

• • •

Brantley was at loose ends. He’d done a little research, but there was only so much he could do on the Brantley Building until the tenants were out. He’d talked to Will Garrett while he was putting the finishing touches on the kitchen cabinets. Then he’d watched television until he got hungry. He called Lucy to see if she wanted to get lunch, but her phone went to voicemail.

No surprise. He’d already called four times and her phone had gone to voicemail every time. He’d lost count of the texts he’d sent and she had not answered a single one. He considered going to the Big Starr to buy some food to put in those new cabinets, but discarded the notion. He was hungry now.

Finally, he put on his shoes and went up to the big house. No sign of Evelyn. No sign of anyone, but the kitchen was shipshape. He pulled turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, and pie out of the refrigerator and took it to the pristine kitchen table that had been far from pristine last night.

Last night, he and Lucy had put what they could in the dishwasher and rinsed what wasn’t dishwasher safe. Lucy had been mortified to leave a mess and he’d had to explain to her that if they did much more there would be hell to pay with Evelyn.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d told her, as he dried the roasting pan she’d just washed. “If you want to get along in this family, don’t cross Evelyn. Don’t mess in her domain. As a matter of fact, washing this pan might be over the line. She’ll forgive you, as you are not yet acquainted with the ways of our clan.”

She laughed. “You have
ways
, do you?”

“Oh, yeah. We do. Let’s see,” he said. “Come to the table as soon as you’re called. Don’t talk after entering the sanctuary or make faces at your friends. If you find yourself where you ought not to be, even if it was your bad judgment and poor planning that got you there, call Dad. He’ll come get you. Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain. And for the love of God and all that is holy, do
not
sass Mama.” He was remembering an incident from his teen years and it came out of his mouth before he thought, but it felt good to mention her. Lucy was looking at him eagerly. Maybe he would just carry on. “If you must sass Mama, don’t do it in front of Dad unless you want to spend the entire month of July with no car keys and no privileges. In case you’re not clear on what a privilege is, it’s anything except eating, going to church, reading the Bible or something from your summer book list, or being on the golf course for any reason except to tote somebody else’s clubs and say, ‘Yes, sir.’ Also, you can’t answer the phone unless you’re the only one in the house and then you are only allowed one of two responses. One: ‘I am not allowed to talk on the phone. Good-bye.’ Or two, ‘Yes, I will be happy to take a message for the people in this house who are allowed to have a social life and are not being held prisoner for an unfortunate slip of the tongue.’” He’d learned from that incident, but not well enough. The next time he’d sassed her it had cost more than a July under house arrest. It had cost a family.

He shook it off; he could because Lucy was looking at him, bright-eyed and happy.

“What happens if you sass Big Mama?” Lucy asked around her sweet smile.

The very thought of that gave him a chill. “Well, I don’t rightly know. I’ll tell you when I get back from joining the circus because one thing is about as likely to happen as the other. I suspect those in charge of handing down the punishment would just kill you. Or more like, Big Mama would look at you until you died of shame.”

As Brantley located the bread and mayonnaise for his sandwich, Big Mama came in the back door with an armload of bags. He turned to take them from her. She laughed and twisted away from him.

“No. You can’t see. I’ve been Christmas shopping!” She carried her packages to the laundry room and came out with Lucy’s casserole dish and basket.

Oh, Christ. Christmas. Yeah. That was the point. He laughed a little but only in his head.

“I cannot believe you have been out in that mess of Black Friday,” he said. “Couldn’t pay me to go out there.”

“It was fun. I had lunch with some of my bridge club. I intended to go to Annelle’s shop, but I forgot to take Lucy’s casserole dish with me when I left this morning.”

“You mean to tell me that all that kerosene fruit got eaten?” He had eaten a small bit yesterday and he’d put on a happy face about it, but it was clear that whoever married Lucy was going to have to be able to cook—or hire a cook. That was the worst stuff in the history of food.

“Brantley!” Big Mama said. “I believe the word you are looking for is
curried
, not
kerosene
. And there was a little left. Evelyn put it in a smaller container. I plan to eat it later. It was delicious.”

“It was noxious.” He continued to build his sandwich.

Big Mama set the dish on the table and sat down across from him. “You are making a sandwich from turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, and mayonnaise and you have the nerve to call that lovely fruit noxious. I hope you didn’t say that to her.”

“I’ve got
some
sense. I just wish y’all hadn’t bragged on it so much. She might bring it Christmas.” And she had to come for Christmas. It was the only way he’d get through it.

Big Mama looked extremely pleased and he suspected it had nothing to do with that fruit. “Have you considered that perhaps it could have been a very high quality dish, but you just don’t happen to like curried fruit?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side. I cannot believe you are defending my own girlfriend against me.”

“Oh, is that what she is?”

“Maybe,” he said. He had never considered anyone a girlfriend he hadn’t slept with, at least not since he was twenty. But if she wasn’t, she would be soon.

“I am on your side, darling.” She plucked the sunglasses from where she had pushed them to the top of her head. “Completely and eternally.” She rose. “I’m going now. I’ve heard Annelle has outdone herself this year with her decorations.”

Yeah, and robbed me of Lucy’s company.
He hadn’t been in that shop since the summer everything went bad, when he and Missy would go in to see Lucy when she was working.

“Big Mama,” he said. “If you can wait until I finish my sandwich, I’ll go with you.”

It was three o’clock before the crowd thinned—just in time for Brantley and Miss Caroline to walk in the door.

Miss Caroline clapped her hands in front of her and looked from Annelle to Lucy. “Gorgeous! I had heard, but it’s even better than I imagined.” She picked up one of the small wicker shopping baskets. “I’m going to have to have some of this!”

Brantley smiled and sauntered toward Lucy. “She’s going to have to have some of this. Because, you know, she hasn’t got any stuff.”

“A woman can’t have too much stuff.” Lord, her feet hurt but seeing him soothed everything else.

“I am beginning to think Lucy Mead doesn’t have a cell phone anymore.”

She patted her pocket. “I must have left it in my office. Sorry. I guess you called?”

“A few times,” he said. “I brought back your basket, your leaf thing, and your orange pot. It’s in my car. I could just bring it over tonight.”

“Maybe,” she said. Truth was, even as tired as she was, as much as she needed to go to bed as soon as she got home, she wanted him to come over. It scared her how much she wanted that. “I had a late night and early morning. I will definitely need a nap. I can’t promise I won’t sleep straight through.”