Count on Me
Page 50
She barked a laugh. “Sure. Day-drinking while on vacation with your girlfriends clearly paves the road to dancing until four in the morning, or skinny-dipping. Though to be totally fair, I’m fine blaming skinny-dipping on four margaritas by two in the afternoon.”
“I think I need to go with you on this vacation. Keep an eye on all this action.”
“Ha. Nope.”
She freshened her lipstick after kissing him quickly. Her hair was held back with a headband. Her grandmother approved of headbands rather than her hair being loose. She also liked to put it in a bun, but Caroline had a love bite at the back of her neck. Right at her hairline.
“Should I bring something for your aunt? I can run to town and come right back.”
He rolled his eyes. “No. This is just us stopping by on our way out. Fifteen minutes at the most.”
Their house was on the other side of the land the farm sat on. A big, pale yellow farmhouse. His grandfather had built the house for his grandmother. Then his uncle had taken over when his brother—the day drinker and layabout—got married to Royal’s mother and it was clear the older Watson boy was too wrapped up in his bride to get anything done.
Uncle Bob painted it pale yellow because Denver loved yellow. They’d made that big yellow house a home for Royal. His parents had lived in the original building Royal’s grandparents had used while the house was being built. One of the two bedrooms there was Royal’s.
But he’d slept in the big yellow house. In a room that was his. Where he’d kept his books and his clothes. Denver and Bob’s table he sat at four days a week or more.
It was home.
He pulled up and got her door, taking her hand as they headed in.
“Don’t slam that screen door,” a woman called out.
“I haven’t let it slam since I was fourteen or so. She still says it,” Royal said in an undertone as they went inside.
“Seems to me it works then. Her telling you not to do it.” Caroline shrugged. “That’s a success story right there, Royal.”
“Oh, I like her. She’s smart.” A woman Caroline’s size came into view as they walked into the kitchen. “Royal, you were telling the truth. You’re short like me. Which is nice because now I’m not alone.”
Caroline held her hands out. “I’m Caroline. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
Denver grinned. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve been pestering Royal for weeks now to bring you by so we can meet you. I’m glad he finally obeyed. You hungry?”
“Aunt Denver, I told you, we’re going to lunch at the Lassiters.”
Denver did this thing with her mouth that made Caroline snicker.
“Aunt Denver, can we not?”
Caroline waved a hand. “Oh it’s fine. She didn’t actually say anything. Her expression, I probably wouldn’t have even caught it if I wasn’t trained to judge people’s facial expressions all the time.”
“Your grandmother has a good heart. She’s always a huge contributor when we do the food drives in the spring and winter. She just has a very specific idea of how things should work and an audacity to believe she should be able to set rules for everyone else based on her ideas. She’s great at brainstorming fundraising ideas, for instance.”
“But maybe no one likes to work with her because she’s not much of a team player.”
Denver thought that was hilarious. “Yes.” She sobered. “But she loved your mother. And she loves your siblings too. She brags about you. She’s not all bad.”
“You’re a straight shooter, aren’t you?”
“Hell yes, I am. What on earth is the point of pu**yfooting around stuff?”
“My grandparents are good people. I love them and I respect them. What happened to them when my mother was murdered, well, it changed them, all of us, forever.”
“Sure. And I feel for her. Losing a child is a terrible thing to bear. But wrongs on top of wrongs doesn’t make the pile smaller, does it?”
Royal grabbed control and changed the subject. “And on that note. Where’s Uncle Bob?”
“He’s in his shop. Go get him so he can meet Caroline. She’ll stay here with me while you go.”
Royal rolled his eyes, but he said his yes, ma’am and moved to do as she’d asked.
“Lord above I thought he’d never go and I’d have to keep on pretending I have good manners.” Denver snorted. “Want some hot tea? Water’s still hot.”
“Yes, please.”
“Sit. I’ll bring it over.” Denver waved Caroline over to the table so she went.
“We have about five minutes, maybe seven, before Royal and Bob come back. Bob’s in the middle of some woodworking project. It’s his new hobby since Royal fully took over. Which is fine with me because it keeps him out from under my feet. Anyway he’ll draw Royal into some long conversation about how great this or that whatsit he’s making is. So, I hear Garrett Mosby gave you some trouble. He was in my Sunday school class when he was in middle school. I can’t imagine he’s improved much. Handsome though. I guess he and your sister will have pretty babies.”
“He’s…can I be direct with you?”
“I’d dislike you otherwise.”
“He’s one of those men who isn’t very strong or bright or even that nice. He’s handsome enough. He finds women like my sister and my grandmother, and he latches on. You know like he’s protecting them when really he’s just building himself a little bully pulpit so he can keep his women in line. As far as he’s concerned, everything women get upset over is an overreaction. No issues women face are as important as what men do. He’s the guy at the next table over at a restaurant who will explain to you how you feel about something he’s overheard you talking about.”
“I think I need to go with you on this vacation. Keep an eye on all this action.”
“Ha. Nope.”
She freshened her lipstick after kissing him quickly. Her hair was held back with a headband. Her grandmother approved of headbands rather than her hair being loose. She also liked to put it in a bun, but Caroline had a love bite at the back of her neck. Right at her hairline.
“Should I bring something for your aunt? I can run to town and come right back.”
He rolled his eyes. “No. This is just us stopping by on our way out. Fifteen minutes at the most.”
Their house was on the other side of the land the farm sat on. A big, pale yellow farmhouse. His grandfather had built the house for his grandmother. Then his uncle had taken over when his brother—the day drinker and layabout—got married to Royal’s mother and it was clear the older Watson boy was too wrapped up in his bride to get anything done.
Uncle Bob painted it pale yellow because Denver loved yellow. They’d made that big yellow house a home for Royal. His parents had lived in the original building Royal’s grandparents had used while the house was being built. One of the two bedrooms there was Royal’s.
But he’d slept in the big yellow house. In a room that was his. Where he’d kept his books and his clothes. Denver and Bob’s table he sat at four days a week or more.
It was home.
He pulled up and got her door, taking her hand as they headed in.
“Don’t slam that screen door,” a woman called out.
“I haven’t let it slam since I was fourteen or so. She still says it,” Royal said in an undertone as they went inside.
“Seems to me it works then. Her telling you not to do it.” Caroline shrugged. “That’s a success story right there, Royal.”
“Oh, I like her. She’s smart.” A woman Caroline’s size came into view as they walked into the kitchen. “Royal, you were telling the truth. You’re short like me. Which is nice because now I’m not alone.”
Caroline held her hands out. “I’m Caroline. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
Denver grinned. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve been pestering Royal for weeks now to bring you by so we can meet you. I’m glad he finally obeyed. You hungry?”
“Aunt Denver, I told you, we’re going to lunch at the Lassiters.”
Denver did this thing with her mouth that made Caroline snicker.
“Aunt Denver, can we not?”
Caroline waved a hand. “Oh it’s fine. She didn’t actually say anything. Her expression, I probably wouldn’t have even caught it if I wasn’t trained to judge people’s facial expressions all the time.”
“Your grandmother has a good heart. She’s always a huge contributor when we do the food drives in the spring and winter. She just has a very specific idea of how things should work and an audacity to believe she should be able to set rules for everyone else based on her ideas. She’s great at brainstorming fundraising ideas, for instance.”
“But maybe no one likes to work with her because she’s not much of a team player.”
Denver thought that was hilarious. “Yes.” She sobered. “But she loved your mother. And she loves your siblings too. She brags about you. She’s not all bad.”
“You’re a straight shooter, aren’t you?”
“Hell yes, I am. What on earth is the point of pu**yfooting around stuff?”
“My grandparents are good people. I love them and I respect them. What happened to them when my mother was murdered, well, it changed them, all of us, forever.”
“Sure. And I feel for her. Losing a child is a terrible thing to bear. But wrongs on top of wrongs doesn’t make the pile smaller, does it?”
Royal grabbed control and changed the subject. “And on that note. Where’s Uncle Bob?”
“He’s in his shop. Go get him so he can meet Caroline. She’ll stay here with me while you go.”
Royal rolled his eyes, but he said his yes, ma’am and moved to do as she’d asked.
“Lord above I thought he’d never go and I’d have to keep on pretending I have good manners.” Denver snorted. “Want some hot tea? Water’s still hot.”
“Yes, please.”
“Sit. I’ll bring it over.” Denver waved Caroline over to the table so she went.
“We have about five minutes, maybe seven, before Royal and Bob come back. Bob’s in the middle of some woodworking project. It’s his new hobby since Royal fully took over. Which is fine with me because it keeps him out from under my feet. Anyway he’ll draw Royal into some long conversation about how great this or that whatsit he’s making is. So, I hear Garrett Mosby gave you some trouble. He was in my Sunday school class when he was in middle school. I can’t imagine he’s improved much. Handsome though. I guess he and your sister will have pretty babies.”
“He’s…can I be direct with you?”
“I’d dislike you otherwise.”
“He’s one of those men who isn’t very strong or bright or even that nice. He’s handsome enough. He finds women like my sister and my grandmother, and he latches on. You know like he’s protecting them when really he’s just building himself a little bully pulpit so he can keep his women in line. As far as he’s concerned, everything women get upset over is an overreaction. No issues women face are as important as what men do. He’s the guy at the next table over at a restaurant who will explain to you how you feel about something he’s overheard you talking about.”
