The Wedding Pearls Page 8

  Her chin shot up in the air and she looked down her nose at Ivy. “You aren’t a bit of fun. I bet you drank beer when you was sixteen.”

  Ivy lowered her head and squinted until her eyes were nothing more than slits. “What I did or didn’t do when I was your age doesn’t have a thing to do with what you are going to drink tonight or any night while we’re on this trip. Go on in the room and crawl your scrawny little ass up on your bed and talk to your friends with your thumbs. I swear to God on a holy Bible that if someone were to break a teenager’s thumbs, they might as well shoot the kid in the head.”

  Tessa kept the giggle at bay until she and Lola were safely in their room. Then she threw herself back on the sofa and the laughter bounced off the walls. Tears streamed down her eyes, ruining every bit of the makeup that was left. Lola went to the bathroom, brought out a box of tissues and tossed them at her. She caught them midair and pulled half a dozen from the slot on the top.

  “What is so funny?” Lola sat down beside her on the sofa.

  “All of them. I should be writing a script of this whole trip. Lord, it would make a movie that would rival Fried Green Tomatoes. ‘Towanda!’” She raised one arm and giggled at the line in the movie.

  “You are way too young to remember that movie,” Lola said.

  “No, I’m not. My mama loves it and we’ve watched it together a dozen times,” she said.

  Lola’s smile faded and she grew serious. “Strange. I don’t ever remember watching a movie with my mama.”

  “Really? What did you do when you were a teenager?”

  Lola did one of her famous shrugs, both shoulders spiking up until they almost reached her ears. “Stayed out of their way, mostly.”

  Tessa straightened up. “Their?”

  The shoulders dropped but the expression on her face said that it was not a happy memory. “Mama and Daddy.”

  “Tell me about them,” Tessa said.

  “First I have to call in pizza. I need to holler at Branch and see what he wants, so you’ve got a minute to decide.” She picked up the hotel phone and hit the number for the room next door. “Hey, we’re ordering pizza and I’m about to call it in. What do you want?” She wrote on the hotel pad as she listened and then said, “It will be here in about twenty-five minutes. I’ll have it brought to your room since you’ve got the credit card, so holler when it gets there and I’ll pick up ours and the ones that go to Mama’s room.” Lola put the receiver back on the base and looked over at Tessa.

  “Taco,” Tessa answered the unasked question.

  Lola frowned. “Taco pizza?”

  “My new favorite,” Tessa answered. “Our pizza place started making them about a year ago and I fell in love with it.”

  “What’s it taste like?” Lola’s nose curled slightly.

  Tessa shrugged. “Tacos and pizza kinda mixed together, I guess. Don’t go judging it until you try it.”

  “If I order chicken and pineapple, can we share both?” Lola asked.

  “That’s my second favorite,” Tessa said. “So yes, ma’am, we can share. And maybe bread sticks and marinara?”

  “You got it, kiddo,” Lola said.

  Tessa liked that title. Not daughter or my child but kiddo! It fit both of them fine. She didn’t mind being Lola’s kiddo at all.

  Lola called in the order and then motioned for Tessa to move over on the sofa. Back against the padded arm, she sat with her feet crossed Indian style and took a deep breath.

  “So do you have a vision name?” Tessa turned and faced her, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

  Lola’s full mouth turned up in a crooked, mischievous smile. “What brought that on? Are you saying we should do a little pot smoking tonight?”

  “It’s the way you are sitting,” Tessa said.

  Looking down at her legs, she chuckled. “No, I don’t have a vision name, but my first love had a nickname for me so I guess it could be my vision name. I hadn’t thought of it in years.”

  One of Tessa’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you going to share?”

  “It started out as Lola Bunny and then he shortened it to Bunny and he bought me little rabbit things. All the other girls got teddy bears at Valentine’s. I got a rabbit of some kind or sort. I still have them all in the attic in a box with all my cards, letters, candy bar wrappers, and everything he gave me.”

  “Is that why you’ve got that bunny on your shoulder?” Tessa asked.

  Lola nodded. “Yes, it is. We got them together when we ran away from Boomtown and headed for the commune. And this one”—she pointed to the rose on the other shoulder—“is because I was going to name you Tessa Rose.”

  “I like that, but my name is Tessa Ruth.” Tessa let that name slide off her tongue silently a few times. She did like it, but not as well as her given name. Sophie had told her that it was a modern name with old-world charm, and that always made her feel important.

  Lola’s eyes misted. “My middle name is Ruth.”

  The empathy that Tessa didn’t realize she had made her eyes water a little, too. “I didn’t know where it came from until right now. I actually wondered if she’d gotten it from the Bible. She and Daddy are faithful churchgoers.”

  A pregnant pause filled the room, as if they were both waiting on the other to say something.

  Finally, Tessa swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “You were going to tell me about Frankie and my grandpa? But tell me about that other tat on your ankle first.”

  Lola pulled up her skirt tail. “This little symbol means happiness. I got it to remind me that happiness is not a destination but a day-by-day journey. We get up in the morning and we decide to be either bitter about the past or happy that we have an untainted future. I try to choose the latter every day,” she said.

  A hard rap on Branch’s door right next to theirs brought Lola into a standing position. “That will be our pizza, and he’s early. I’ll go on and get Mama’s and deliver it, then bring ours so we can have girl talk.”

  “I’d like that.” Tessa wasn’t sure if the warm flush sweeping through her was family love, curiosity, or acute hunger, but she wanted to know more. This was why she was on the trip, after all—to get to know her biological family.

  Deep in her own thoughts about Lola, she didn’t hear Branch push open the cracked door and enter the room. It wasn’t until he set three pizza boxes on the coffee table that she realized he was there. And then she squeaked like a mouse caught in a trap.

  “Hey, it’s only me. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Branch said.

  “I invited Branch to eat with us since he would be all alone,” Lola said on her way back into the room, letting the door shut behind her. “Besides, he’s got pepperoni and he offered to share.”

  Tessa’s eyes widened at the sight of so many big pizza boxes. “You bought large pizzas for all of us? And bread sticks and marinara?”

  “They were on special. Any size for only ten bucks, and the bread sticks were half-price if you ordered more than three pizzas. It was a great deal and we might as well get all the bang we can for Mama’s money. Besides, we can eat leftovers until we go to bed and I’m always hungry after a swim.” She opened the boxes and plopped down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. “Y’all can have the sofa. Maybe if my mouth is closer to the pizza I won’t drop half of a slice in my lap.”

  Branch sat down and opened three bottles of beer before he grabbed the first slice of pepperoni pizza. Tessa took a long draw from her beer and then set it down on the coffee table. The taco pizza looked scrumptious, but she was so damned clumsy and worried not only that she might drop half or all of it in her own lap, but that maybe she’d do one of those reaching maneuvers that would cause it to end up upside-down all over Branch. Her stomach growled, and still she didn’t want to pick it up.

  Branch pointed at her pizza. “What is that?”

  “Taco pizza,” Lola answered. “It sounded horrible when she ordered it, b
ut I’m thinking I might like it.”

  “Are you going to eat it or stare at it?” Branch asked.

  “First I’m going to cover my lap in napkins, and if you’d like to take yours to the desk chair or sit over by the door, it’s okay.” She set about picking up napkins from the stack that came with the pizza and arranging them on the skirt of her sundress.

  “I’m fine right here,” Branch said. “There’s not one part of me or these clothes that can’t be washed.”

  He bit into a slice of his pizza and chewed slowly.

  “Now, tell me, did y’all think Frankie looked really weary tonight? Do you think she’s really going to make it for a whole month?”

  “She will or she’ll die on the trip. She’s stubborn as an old Missouri mule,” Lola said. “Oops, there went the first chunk of pineapple right down into my bra. Hopefully, that’s all the mishaps for this evening.”

  Tessa picked up a slice and transported it from box to her mouth as carefully as if it had been a cup of tea in the finest china cup in the world. “Mmmm.” She made appreciative noises. “This is absolutely wonderful. Y’all have to try it.”

  Nodding his head, Branch finished the slice he was eating. “Okay, I will try both of those sissy pizzas.”

  “Sissy?” Lola and Tessa said at the same time and in the same tone.

  “Well, it damn sure isn’t a man’s pizza. We eat meat lovers’ and pepperoni and sausage or maybe sometimes we might have hamburger, but not chicken and pineapple or taco, for God’s sake,” he said gruffly.

  “Don’t pass judgment until you taste it, smart-ass. What’s the matter with you?” Tessa asked with a frown.

  “Smart, whatever!” he shot back.

  “Ass, whatever!” she smarted off. “What’s got your tighty-whities in a wad right now?”

  He held up a palm in defense. “I’m sorry, ladies. I got a phone call before I came in here that aggravated me. It had nothing to do with y’all and it wasn’t very nice of me to take it out on your sissy pizza. I’d be glad to have a slice of each, and y’all help yourselves to my man’s pizza.”

  Lola reached for a slice of his pizza. “Thank you. As unladylike as I am, I’ll be glad to partake of your peace offering. I can probably make as big a mess with it as I can mine.”

  “Me, too,” Tessa said.

  He reached toward the taco pizza and his arm brushed against Tessa’s. “Like mother, like daughter.”

  She gripped what was left of that pizza like it was a long-lost sister, digging her nails into it. If the heat generated from his touch had been able to escape through her fingertips, the poor crust would have broken into blazes.

  After eight months and nine days of celibacy, hell’s bells, any sexy cowboy’s touch would turn me into a melted pot of hot hormones. It’s not the man; it’s me needing a boyfriend. As soon as we get back home, I will find one and prove it, she thought.

  “We did it, kiddo!” Lola shouted.

  “We did what?” Tessa asked.

  “We didn’t get anything on us other than the tiny piece of pineapple that I fished out of my bra. We must be good for each other. If we are together, we aren’t as clumsy. Did you realize that we didn’t make a mess at supper last night or when we had barbecue for lunch today? That’s a miracle.”

  Tessa popped the last bite into her mouth and nodded. It was beyond miraculous. It was sheer magic.

  Branch took another bite. “Pretty damn good. I might change my mind about this. I bet my guys would love it on poker night,” he said. “I should be going, though. I’ve got about an hour’s worth of business to take care of on the computer before I can go to the pool. You reckon I could take a box back to my room with some of all three?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Tessa grabbed a pepperoni slice before Lola and Branch started divvying up the leftovers into two boxes.

  Yes, sir, she definitely had to start seriously looking for someone to date when she got home. She’d call her mama or text her later tonight and tell her that she might be ready to go out with that new youth director at her church. He wasn’t nearly as sexy as Branch, but her daddy said he was a good guy. Maybe a good guy was exactly what she needed.

  Tessa opened her journal that evening, picked up the pen from the nightstand, and started to write without hesitation.

  Day two—GUILT.

  She wrote the word in print and in all capital letters, then went over it three times to make it bold.

  That is my emotion for the day. I had so much fun with the whole bunch of them, but I shouldn’t, not this quickly. I owe it to Mama and Daddy, who took me when my own mother didn’t want me, to not get close to these people this fast. And yet I’ve let my guard down with all of them today and felt like I was with friends on a girls’ day out. Then tonight I was flirting with Branch as if something could ever come of this outrageous infatuation I have with him. Crap, Tessa Ruth! You’ve got to get control of yourself. Branch is only here because he has to be. Melody doesn’t want to be here. Lola could care less, and Frankie and Ivy have each other. You don’t really fit in.

  And yet, today I did. I was part of the whole thing. Lola helped me pick out the cream pitcher for my new collection and there was a thin bond there between us. I felt it, and now I feel guilty for it. Mama deserves my love and attention. She was the one who held my hand when I was sick, who cried with me when I could not dance, and who has been there for me.

  Add CONFUSION to the GUILT. Mama would be the first one in line to tell me that I shouldn’t feel guilty because I share genetics with two of these women and it’s all right to make new friends, no matter what their age is.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dark clouds drifted over the sky that morning when Mollybedamned left the hotel parking lot at ten o’clock. Day three of the trip had begun, and the next stop was around Gainesville, according to what Ivy and Frankie were already discussing in the backseat. The top was down to start the day, but the sky looked like it might dump cats and dogs and baby elephants down on them at any time. Branch pulled out onto the highway heading north, with plans to stop in Paris, Texas, for lunch in a couple of hours.

  “Clouds will make it cooler,” Ivy said. “But y’all better get out your sunblock if you didn’t already put it on this morning. Remember that sunburn you got back in ’59, Frankie.”

  Branch glanced in the rearview mirror to see Frankie nod. “I’ll never forget that damned thing. Me and Lester went on a drive the summer we got Mollybedamned. It was a day like this, and I spent a week flat on my stomach in bed with a bad burn on my shoulders and back. I was wearing one of those strapless dresses, but at least I did have on a great big old floppy hat and it saved my face from the same kind of blisters.”

  “You ever had a burn?” Branch asked Tessa.

  “Not one time. Mama bought sunblock lotion for me and her by the case. My Cajun cousins got brown as toast in the summer, but not me. I’ve always looked like I was soaked in buttermilk,” she answered. “How about you?”

  “I turn a little red and the next morning it’s brown. Could have some Cajun in me, too. Listen to them.” Branch tilted his head toward the backseat.

  “I love their stories.” Tessa smiled.

  The old girls were well into the remember when, remember what, and remember how stories when Branch tuned them out. Instead of listening, his thoughts went back to the old guy and his stories from yesterday.

  He glanced down at Tessa, who was intently listening to the stories coming from the backseat. Her shoulder and hip pressed against his, creating some kind of wild, hot electricity. She wasn’t his type, but something drew him to her. Maybe Herman had been right, but most likely what the old guy saw was nothing more than Branch going too damn long without a woman. Now his body was reacting to a woman’s touch, no matter who she was, and Tessa deserved a hell of a lot more than a quick romp in the sheets. And that’s all Branch had to offer after the mess Avery made of his heart.

  Lola reached into a
tote bag at her feet and brought out a piece of knitting attached to round needles. She wound the thin pink yarn around her fingers and went to work, humming some kind of lullaby that was barely audible from the other end of the wide bench seat.

  Tessa watched the process a few minutes before she finally asked, “What are you working on?”

  “Baby caps. I make them for the hospital down in Beaumont and the one in Houston to put on newborn baby girls,” she answered.

  “No baby boys?” Branch asked.

  “I like pink, and”—she glanced over her shoulder—“my therapist says it’s good for me. It takes me to my happy place, thinking about those baby girls wearing my little knitted hats. I am humming to keep the noises from the backseat out of my head. I left my music and earbuds in my suitcase. I’ve heard the stories they’re telling a million times.”

  “Will you teach me to do that? I’ve always wanted to crochet and knit both, but with my two left feet, I figured I might be all thumbs, too,” Tessa said.

  Branch kept both hands on the wheel, but he really wanted to throw an arm around Tessa and assure her that because she couldn’t do ballet dancing did not mean she couldn’t learn to two-step. Maybe someday he’d show her rather than tell her.

  “Sure, I’ll teach you.” Lola kept throwing the yarn over the needle and doing something with the other one and suddenly a stitch appeared. “If I can learn to do this, anyone can. I like making baby caps because they’re small, soft, and I can make two or three a week. It’s simple, basic knitting so I don’t have to learn anything like cable stitching. It’s mindless work where I can think about anything but what is going on around me. We can have our first lesson tonight. I’ve got extra needles and yarn.”

  Ivy touched Branch on the shoulder. “We got so wound up in remembering the past that we forgot our music. We can’t take a Caddy trip without listenin’ to Waylon, Willie, and the boys.”

  “Crap!” Melody’s earbuds and MP3 player came out of her purse.