“Well, shoot. Impeccable? What does that mean?”
“It means without flaw.”
“Oh no!” Bubba put his hands up. “I’m plenty flawed, trust me. But I appreciate your kind words. They mean a lot to me.”
Brock gave him a business card, which Bubba read with interest. “What’s this about?”
“My agent, Arlen Collins. One of the best in the business. I’ve already called him and told him all about you. There’s a new movie being cast next month in Los Angeles, and they need a singer. I think you’d be perfect.”
“W-what?” Bubba pressed the card back into Brock’s hand. “No way. I’m not leaving Texas. And I don’t sing.” His cheeks turned red. “I mean, I guess I do sing, but not for a living.” He shook his head and stammered, “Well, technically I guess I am getting paid for it now, but that doesn’t make me a professional.”
“If you’re getting paid for it, that makes you a professional.” Brock nodded. “And besides, Arlen is going to be looking for someone new, someone fresh. Best of all, this is a country-western movie, so all of the music would be right up your alley.”
“Man, I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’ll call Arlen. He’s been a real door opener for me.”
“Shoot.” Bubba repeated his favorite word, then pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve already got the best door opener of all. Don’t know why I need an agent.” When Brock quirked a brow, Bubba added, “Got the Lord on my side. He opens the doors that need opening.”
Brock sighed. “You people and God. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he lives in Texas.”
“He does,” I said with a grin. “Among other places.”
“Mm-hmm.” Brock walked back toward the house, muttering all the way. He turned for a moment and called out, “Think about what I’ve said!”
Sighing, I turned back to the Neeley brothers. “What are we going to do with him?”
“What do you mean?” D.J. gave me a funny look.
“I mean, God apparently sent him here for a reason. We’ve only got a few more days before the wedding, and he’s going to be gone on a boating trip for most of those. I just feel this . . . pressure to let him know that God loves him.”
“Bella.” D.J. drew in a breath as he shook his head. “You’re a wonderful, godly girl. Anyone who spends any time at all with you can see the love of Jesus in everything you do. Just be yourself. It’s pretty obvious Brock knows where you stand. Where we
all
stand, for that matter. The seeds have been planted. We have to trust God to do the real work.”
“Right.”
D.J.’s words made sense, of course. But what if Brock went back to Hollywood in the same spiritual condition he’d arrived in? A wave of sadness washed over me as I contemplated that possibility.
“Hey, are we going to move that Pinto or what?” Bubba yawned. “I’m beat. Can’t wait to fall into my bed and sleep straight through till tomorrow.”
“Sure. Let’s get ’er moved.” D.J. led the way to the car and used some sort of a long, skinny tool to try to get the door unlocked. For whatever reason, it wouldn’t budge. It did, however, set off the most annoying alarm I’d ever heard in my life.
“W-what is that?” Kind of sounded like the car was shouting something. I unplugged my ears and distinctively heard, “Back away from the car! The eyes of the Lord are upon you, and he knows where you live!”
“Did that car really say what I thought it said?” D.J. shook his head, looking like he didn’t quite believe it.
As if to answer his question, the car blurted out the same words again. This time I realized I was hearing Twila’s voice.
How did she do that?
“That car just said it knows where I live.” Bubba made a funny face. “It’s smarter than I am. I don’t even know where I live these days—Splendora or Galveston. It’s a toss-up.” He laughed. “But one thing’s for sure, I feel the wrath of the Lord when I touch this car, and that’s not a good thing. Twila can be pretty intimidating, even coated in pink paint.”
“I don’t care if she shouts at the top of her lungs. We’ve got to get this car moved,” I said. “The ladies aren’t coming back till next Sunday, and we can move it back before they get here. She’ll never know.”
Bubba groaned. “Okay, if you say so. But I’m holding you responsible.”
“I’ll sign on the dotted line, taking full responsibility. The Pinto’s gotta go.”
Minutes later, the poor old girl was on the wrecker, ready to be hauled to her new home at D.J.’s condominium. I smiled as I saw her disappear down Broadway. No, Sister Twila might not be happy about this, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t help the fact that she’d forgotten to leave her keys. Or that one of us had lost them. I still hadn’t figured out which one was more accurate.
Then again, who had time to think? I still had a wedding facility to organize, a program to print, and a castle to build. Better get to it!
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21
Between the Devil
and the Deep Blue Sea
The guy from Stages Set Design must not have gotten the memo about the incoming storm, because he arrived at the wedding facility on Thursday morning at 9:00, as planned. The huge moving trucks—three of them in all—lined Broadway. I stared in disbelief, wondering how or if we should move forward with this. According to the newscasters, we had only eight or nine hours until the outer bands of the storm came ashore. Until then, sunny skies reigned. But once the storm blew in, who knew what would happen? If the walls to my castle fell in, would I be held responsible?
Turned out Larry, the set-design guy, knew all about the storm. “Doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a big one,” he said with a wave of his hand. “So we’re better off getting the flooring and walls in beforehand. If we wait till after, the ground will be too wet. Not a good scenario. Trust me on this, okay?”
“Okay.” So I’d been right with my sinking-sand theory. Getting the foundation in place before the storm was the better bet. Still, I had to wonder what would come of all of his hard work when the winds got to blowing.
I watched Larry and his guys work for a couple of hours, mesmerized by both their speed and the prevalent sunlight overhead. Seemed like that’s how it always was—the sun seemed to shine brightest right before a big storm. What was up with that?
D.J. showed up at 11:30 to help with the castle construction. As I watched him work, my heart skipped a beat. Now this was a true knight in shining armor—always here when we needed him. And it didn’t hurt that the boy had muscles that went on forever.
At noon, a couple of guys from the Food Network arrived at our house with papers for all of us to sign. There were liability waivers, privacy forms, and even some legal mumbo jumbo about how we wouldn’t hold them responsible if something negative about our family aired on their program. That one gave me reason to pause, especially in light of all we were going through. I had no idea things could get this complicated.
As we signed the final form, Mama looked up at one of the men with a concerned look in her eyes. “So, you plan to move forward in spite of the storm? Is that right?”
“We’re hoping it’ll pass in time. Our main concern now is electricity.”
Good point. Sometimes we went without power for days or even weeks after a big storm. Still, I hoped that would not be the case this time around. I made a commitment to pray specifically about the power situation.
I prayed for something else too. As the skies overhead darkened, I prayed with every fiber of my being for Rob, Brock, and the others. Marian had managed to get through to Rob on her cell phone earlier this morning, and he’d given us an update. They were trying to race the storm home, just as Pop had predicted. But would they make it?
At 4:00 D.J. joined me inside since Larry and his crew were leaving for the day. Soon after, Marian showed up at my door with all of her bridesmaids in tow. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Bella.” She took a few steps into my house and threw her arms around me. “I haven’t heard from Rob in over three hours. He’s not answering my calls. You’ve got to help me. If something has happened to him, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
I ushered all of the ladies inside but kept my attention on Marian. “Deep breath, honey. The first thing we’re going to do is call the Coast Guard. They’ll know what to tell us. Likely they know just where the guys are.”
She nodded. “Rob’s dad is an experienced navigator. He’s made this trip dozens of times before and has fought a few storms. I’m not sure why this one has me so unnerved.”
“It’s only natural. And you have no control over things. That’s always hard.” I smiled before adding, “And, of course, there is that part about your wedding. Maybe you’re a little nervous about all of that.”
“You think?” A hint of a smile graced her lips, and I saw a sparkle in her eyes beyond the tears.
“I don’t know much about traveling in a yacht,” I said, “but I was there when they loaded up, and they’ve got plenty of supplies.”
“Yes. And I know Rob.” Marian looked a bit more confident now. “He’s always listening to the radio with the National Weather Service information. They drone on and on, but trust me, he hears what he needs to hear when he needs to hear it. And they’ve got the ship-to-shore radio in case of emergency.”
“Of course. And again, they’ve done this before.”
Within minutes we heard the first peal of thunder. The entire Rossi clan—along with Marian and her entourage— gathered together in the foyer, the only room in the house without windows. Well, unless you counted the window on the front door.
Settling down on the floor, I rested my head against D.J.’s shoulder, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too. I wouldn’t be any other place.” He kissed me on the top of the head. “But I have to admit, it’s a little different riding out a storm down here on the island. Splendora’s so far north that we usually don’t see much action.”
“I’m hoping it won’t be bad here either.”
The bridesmaids chattered incessantly, but their conversation slowed as those first few raindrops fell. I could sense the tension in the room but tried to relax. Tried to put my mind on other things.
Just when I’d almost accomplished my goal, someone pounded on the front door, startling us all.
“Who would be out in the middle of a storm?” Pop asked, making his way to the door.
“Someone pretty desperate,” Mama said.
Turned out it was someone pretty desperate—Tony, checking on Sophia. As he came rushing through the door—his clothes wet, his usually perfect hair in wet curls—my sister glanced up at him with a casual, “Oh, hey, Tony. What are you doing here?”
The whole Rossi clan released a collective sigh. When would she get it? After all these years of jumping from one boyfriend to another . . . after so many broken hearts . . . here stood a perfectly great guy—and handsome to boot— ready to pledge his love. Only she clearly didn’t get it. Or didn’t want to.
Strange how much had changed since Brock walked in the door. Two weeks ago, Sophia would’ve given her eyeteeth for Tony to show her this kind of attention. Now she didn’t seem to see that he existed at all.
Tony took a few steps in her direction, but Rosa stopped him in his tracks. “You’re dripping all over the rug, boy. Let me get you a towel.” She sprinted out of the room, then returned with a large beach towel, which he used right away. Then he turned in Sophia’s direction.
“Can I sit next to you?” he asked.
“What?” She looked up, appearing completely distracted. “Oh, sure. I guess so, Tony.”
Less than ten minutes later, the howl of the wind met the first sheets of rain in what sounded like a musical performance. D.J. looked up at the ceiling and whistled. “Whoa. Hope she holds.”
“She will,” Pop said. “This house has survived dozens of storms over the years, and she’s standing strong.”
“What do you expect?” Laz piped up. “She’s a Rossi! Of course she’s still standing!”
We all had a good laugh at that one. I glanced over at Marian, who hadn’t said a word since her call to the Coast Guard. She gripped her cell phone, waiting for that one call that would change everything for the better. Unfortunately, it never came. The bridesmaids more than made up for her silence, however. I’d never heard so much mindless chatter. You would think we’d all gathered together for a party, not a storm.
We sat huddled together for much of the evening, and I kept a watchful eye on Marian. As the storm raged, I held my shivering Yorkie-Poo in my arms. Several times she let out nervous whimpers. I didn’t blame her. I was scared too. Finally, as the winds slowed, she fell asleep in my arms, a comforted child.
Was this how God felt, perhaps, when I finally relinquished my fears and gave myself over to his protection during the storms of my life? Did he want to reach down and pat my head and say, “It’s gonna be okay, Bella. Just sleep.”
Likely.
At 6:45 the power went out. We were prepared with flashlights and candles. And, of course, Pop had an emergency generator. Not that he would use it. No, it would be reserved for tomorrow, if the power problems lingered.
I wondered about that for a moment. What if the storm passed but we were left without power for several days? Could we still hold the wedding?
Somehow thinking of that got me tickled. A true couple from the Renaissance era wouldn’t have had electricity anyway. So, if they could do it, we could do it! Somehow.
Glancing over at Joey and Norah, I had to smile. The two were a picture of peace and tranquility, curled up in each other’s arms. I’d never seen two people better suited to each other. Well, almost never. I reached up to give D.J. a kiss on the cheek, and he responded by drawing me close.
By 8:15 the worst of the storm had blown over. Most everyone in the room had dozed off, with the exception of Marian, D.J., and me. The winds eventually slowed. For that matter, so did my breathing. Again I realized just how anxious I had been. But now . . . well, the worst appeared to be behind us.
Or was it?
Suddenly our front yard came alive with lights.