The Wedding Pearls Page 9

  “You go on and listen to that shit that you young people call music,” Ivy told her. “Someday when you grow up, you might recognize the good stuff, but first you got to grow up.”

  Branch turned the dial and found a country station. He kept time with the music with his thumbs on the steering wheel as Rascal Flatts sang “Bless the Broken Road.”

  “You’re pretty serious this morning,” Tessa said.

  “Just listening to this song. You ever traveled down broken roads like they’re talking about?” he asked.

  “None as broken as the one I’m traveling right now,” she said. “How about you?”

  “Ditto,” he answered. “I’ve known Frankie, Lola, and Ivy most of my life. I can’t begin to imagine how overwhelmed you must be or why you agreed to this.”

  “My mama and daddy thought it would be good for me,” she said softly. “If I know the people that I share a bloodline with, well, then I wouldn’t feel like . . . never mind.”

  Branch frowned. “I could never understand what you are feeling, Tessa. It’s way too deep for me, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. Do you live with your parents?”

  Tessa’s pretty full lips almost turned up in a smile, but it didn’t materialize. “Thank you, but this is all so raw and new I wouldn’t know how to put it in words. And, no, I haven’t lived with my parents since I graduated high school and went to college. I have my own apartment. Do you live with your folks?”

  Branch shook his head. “I have my own ranch out east of Beaumont. Just one section of land, but it’s got a couple of oil wells and a hundred head of the best Angus cattle in the state on it.”

  The sun peeked out from behind the clouds and caught her bright smile. “And who is running all that while you are gone? I love animals and always wanted to live outside of town. Do you have cats and dogs as well as cows?”

  Branch’s heart threw in an extra beat. Could Herman have really known something, after all? “I do have cats and dogs, and my foreman, Corky, is taking care of things for me. He stayed on when I bought the place and I’m lucky to have him. Who’s running the travel agency?”

  “My partner and cousin, Clint. He got home from a four-week holiday in Europe and thinks I’ve lost my mind to waste my whole year’s worth of vacation time on this trip. Offered to send me to a therapist,” she said.

  “I wish my father would have given me that option.” Branch chuckled.

  “Whoa, hosses,” Lola yelled and pointed. “Mama, did you see that?”

  Tessa had been so deep in her own thoughts about how she would describe her feelings to Branch that when Lola shouted, it startled her. She jumped and Branch laid a hand on her knee.

  “Whoa there, Miz Tess! You were about to bust that seat belt and fly,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Her heart settled somewhat, but her pulse still thumped like a drum against her wrist. “I was a million miles away,” she said softly.

  “You scared the shit out of me, girl. For a minute I thought Jesus was coming down through the opening in those clouds to get me,” Frankie said.

  Lola put her knitting away. “Oh, hush that talk. I told you that you’re going to live to be a hundred and we’re going to have a big festival in Boomtown to celebrate and you’re going to ride down Main Street in Mollybedamned that day.”

  “Well, then what were you talkin’ about?” Frankie asked. “We ate a big dinner in Paris an hour ago. Are you already thinkin’ about ice cream?”

  “I saw a little sign back there stuck on a barbed-wire fence. Turn right where those balloons are waving in the air, Branch,” Lola said. “It’s a big church bazaar festival and yard sale, about five miles up this road.”

  “Hot damn!” Frankie said. “Me and Ivy love bazaars, and you might find something for the shop. And I thought you disappeared into a foggy place where you don’t see jack shit when you pick up that pink yarn.”

  “I hate yard sales. I’m not getting out of the car.” Melody leaned her head back on the seat. “When do we get to the hotel? Does it, like, have a pool?”

  “This is our trip and we love junk, so get used to it. You’ve been so quiet all day that I thought maybe you’d gone into a stupor,” Ivy said.

  She put up a palm and closed her eyes. “I’m, like, in mourning, and my music is the only thing that can console me.”

  Branch made the turn onto a two-lane road and drove north, and Tessa read the signs tied to the fences along the way.

  “I hope it’s not all gone,” Frankie said. “The folks who go to these things are there at the crack of dawn, so we might be gettin’ the leftovers.”

  “You’re all, like, in a basket load of trouble if you think you can use a credit card at this place,” Melody said. “My mama helps with the one at our church and, like, it is cash only.”

  Ivy pulled an earbud from one of Melody’s ears, leaned over, and yelled, “Honey, these two old gals don’t leave home without a full flask, a cooler of Dr Pepper, a couple of cartons of cigarettes, and enough money to buy any damn thing we want.”

  “Well, I’m staying in the car and mourning,” Melody said.

  That was twice she’d mentioned the word in less than five minutes. Tessa made a mental note to talk to her that evening and offer a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, or a sounding board to cuss at. Being sixteen was tough in any world, but the poor little lamb was enduring a lot on this trip—even if she shouldn’t have been smoking pot.

  “Look at all that stuff—and I smell chili.” Frankie opened the door before the car had fully stopped. “I am going to buy a jar to take to the hotel room for our supper. We’ll stop and get paper plates and bowls and have a feast in the room.”

  “I only have about two quarts of chili left. Want me to get it ready for you?” the lady behind the table spread with baked goods and food asked.

  Frankie nodded. “Yes, I do. Set it back along with whatever that is I smell that has cinnamon in it.”

  Tessa left Ivy and Frankie with the lady in charge of the food and followed Lola to a table on the other side of the church parking lot. She picked up a cream pitcher from the end of a table holding several lamps. “This is pretty. Is it an antique?”

  “Not really but it’s not modern, either,” Lola answered. “It’s in good shape. Two bucks is cheap for it. Back in the early part of the last century, that stuff was what they gave away at carnivals. Most of it is an orange and yellow swirly mix or else purple and blue.”

  Tessa kept it in her hand and picked up a small dish. “Like this?”

  “No, that one is a rarer piece. It’s called black amethyst. See those swirls of black and purple with a hint of a weird shade of green? It’s a steal, kiddo. In the store, I’d mark it at twenty dollars. I thought you were going to limit your purchases to cream pitchers.” Lola ran a hand over a white hobnail glass cake dish.

  “I was, but it’s only fifty cents and . . .” Tessa let the sentence drop.

  “And that’s why I own a store.” Lola laughed. “I started with a carnival glass compote that I found at a garage sale and in a year I had to rent a storage unit and then Mama said my addiction had to have an outlet so we put up the building and I really went to work.”

  “So is this the beginning of a second job, Miz Tess?” Branch asked.

  She liked that nickname every bit as much as she liked that Lola called her kiddo. “I don’t think so, but I’m still buying this cute little bowl. I’ll put it on my dresser to catch bobby pins and ponytail holders.”

  “Want me to find a place in the trunk for those?” Branch asked.

  “No, I’ll pay for them and they’re small enough to fit in my purse until we find the place to mail them,” she answered.

  A pretty yellow-and-black butterfly caught her attention as it flew past and straight toward the food table. “Looks like they are selling sweet tea by the glass. Y’all interested? I’ll get them when I go pay for these two things.”

  “I’m shopping some
more,” Lola said. “Y’all go on and sit under the shade tree if you are finished, though. Right now I want both hands free to pick things up.”

  Branch pointed at an empty picnic table under a big pecan tree. “I’ll wait right there, and I’d love a glass of sweet tea.”

  The lady took her money and poured up two big disposable cups of tea. “I’ve also got lemonade, but it’s that instant stuff, not the real thing,” she said.

  Tessa put the change from the ten-dollar bill in her purse. “This is fine. We were afraid we might get here too late to get anything.”

  “Oh, honey, you got here at exactly the right time. We opened up at noon and most of our crowd was here to eat then. They’ll come back after work to browse. We planned on having this on Saturday, but it’s supposed to rain that day so we moved it up two days. We were gettin’ bored so we’re real glad y’all stopped by. You got one mighty handsome boyfriend sittin’ down there waitin’ on you.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Tessa said quickly.

  “Oh, your husband? I didn’t see a wedding ring so I assumed you were dating.” The middle-aged lady blushed.

  Tessa matched the crimson dots on the woman’s face with her own high color. “Not that, either. I haven’t known him a week.”

  The lady smiled and lowered her voice. “Well, honey, the way those dreamy eyes of his have followed your every move since y’all got out of that big old Caddy tells me he might be your boyfriend before long.” She patted her on the forearm. “Take my advice. Don’t close the door until you are sure you don’t like what’s behind it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tessa carried the red plastic cups to the table and set one in front of Branch.

  “Thank you. I owe you,” he said.

  She pulled the cream pitcher and the little bowl from her purse and set them on the table between them. “Does it hurt your little manly pride for a woman to buy you a sweet tea?”

  “A little bit,” he answered. “But not enough to push it aside and not drink it.”

  She sipped the tea. “Mmm, the perfect amount of sugar, and it hasn’t been boiled. See how light it is? That means it was steeped, like tea should be. And about that pride thing, you can buy me a vending-machine coke tonight at the hotel and we will be even.”

  “Deal.” He stuck his hand out.

  She shook it and blamed the heat on the day and the bright sun that had broken through the clouds. It couldn’t be anything else, could it?

  “So why did you buy those two pieces in particular?” He dropped her hand and nodded toward the cream pitcher and bowl.

  She picked up the bowl and imagined it full of hairpins and ponytail holders. Maybe when she bought a real house, she’d furnish it around the items she bought on this trip. “I liked them. I wanted something to remember each event on the trip and decided I’d buy cream pitchers. I’m writing a journal about what we do each day and the things I learn about my birth family.”

  “And the bowl?” he asked.

  “Just because I liked it,” she said. “No reason other than that. Why?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him or anyone else that the strange shade of green reminded her of his eyes and that’s what she intended to write in her journal that evening.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tessa was deep in thought for the second time that day when Frankie let out a squeal from the backseat and Branch had to hold her down again. Lord have mercy, it took more than a few seconds for her soul to settle back inside her body.

  “What?” Lola’s head whipped around.

  “Look at that sign,” Frankie said.

  “WinStar Casino a mile over the line in Oklahoma.” Ivy pointed. “Y’all can have a feast in the room. We’re going to the casino, aren’t we, Frankie?”

  “Mama!” Lola scolded.

  Using her finger, Frankie made the sign of a cross over her heart. “I promise I won’t get caught again counting cards. I swear to God, it looks to me like I should be able to use all that bookkeeping shit I learned to play a little poker,” she said.

  “Ivy?” Lola kept staring.

  “Okay, okay, I won’t get caught, either,” Ivy said.

  “That doesn’t mean they won’t do it,” Branch said softly out of the side of his mouth. “It means they won’t get caught.”

  Ivy and Frankie could hardly wait to get out of the car when Branch parked Mollybedamned under the awning in front of the hotel. They marched right up to the desk to talk to the clerk about a limo for the evening. And as luck would have it, the hotel had a service on speed dial—for a fee, of course—but Frankie didn’t bat an eye at how much it would cost. When Lola said she would go with them, they declared that they didn’t need or want anyone’s company. According to Ivy, it would mess up their juju at the blackjack tables.

  By four thirty, they were both dressed in white dress slacks and flowing tops with enough dazzling sparkle to light up a moonless night. They wore too much perfume, too much jewelry, and their cute little purses probably held more money than Tessa made in a year at the travel agency. But it was Frankie’s bucket list trip and she was making memories, so Tessa hugged them both and wished them lots of luck.

  “Be home before twelve. That limo out there turns into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight,” she warned. “And if you do get caught doin’ something you aren’t supposed to do, then call me and I’ll come get you. You do have your cell phones and they are charged, right?”

  “Yes.” Ivy giggled. “But we won’t be takin’ calls from none of y’all. Not unless you call three times within three minutes, and then we’ll know it’s an emergency.”

  “And”—Frankie held up a hand with enough big diamonds to put Tiffany to shame—“you’d better damn well have broken bones or blood if you call us.”

  “Why aren’t you takin’ the fancy car instead of a limo?” Melody asked.

  “Because someone might key her or hurt her in a parking lot that big,” Frankie said. “If I win a lot of money, we’ll stop tomorrow at the mall in Wichita Falls and you can spend a hundred dollars on anything you want to get you out of your mourning.”

  Melody threw her hand over her forehead in a true Scarlett O’Hara gesture. “Retail therapy won’t even, like, work. I may never wear anything but, like, black again.”

  Ivy patted her on the shoulder. “Maybe you’ll change your mind by the time we get to the shopping mall.”

  Tessa looped her arm through Melody’s as they watched the limo pull away from the hotel. “Want to go for a swim or maybe even a jog?”

  “Yes to a jog. I feel like my body is molded into the shape of the backseat of that car over there.” Melody nodded toward the Caddy. “Mourning doesn’t, like, mean I’m going to get fat and ugly. Having red hair and freckles is enough. I have to, like, protect my body.”

  “Hey, now, you are putting down one of my newest friends, and I don’t let people talk about my friends,” Tessa said quickly. “Your hair is lovely and your freckles make you irresistible. Want to join us, Lola?”

  Both her palms went up defensively. “No, ma’am. Jogging is not for me. I’ll take a swim later to get the kinks out of my spine. Y’all go on and have a sweatin’ good time. I’m going to Skype with Inez about the lamps.”

  Melody glanced at Branch, who shook his head. “Not today, ladies. I’ve got some lawyer work to do. Maybe we’ll meet up later at the pool.”

  “Then I guess it’s me and you, kid,” Tessa said.

  “Meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”

  Tessa dressed in hot pink running shorts, a matching tank top, and her favorite shoes. She waited on the bench in front of the hotel for Melody, who showed up less than a minute later, wearing a hangdog expression that matched her black shorts, tank top, and shoes.

  “You ready or do you need to stretch?” she asked Melody.

  “Let’s go,” she said and took off. “We can go slower if you get winded.”

  Tessa’s lips curled in a smile. “I’m not
thirty yet, girl.”

  “That’s ancient.”

  “How about eighty? What’s that?” Tessa asked.

  “That’s petrified, and I know who you are talking about. Don’t tell them, but I like those two old girls. I want to grow up to be like them. Dolling up in ridiculous outfits, hiring a limo, and, like, going to casinos. I want to live every day like it was my last and, like, never look back,” Melody said softly.

  “Then why are you in mourning? You’re wasting precious time letting some stupid boy ruin your days to live.”

  Melody stopped and fell back on the grass, hands to her sides and eyes straight up at the big white puffy clouds. “That stupid boy can kiss my freakin’ ass. He got what he wanted. Talked me into, like, smoking pot with him and then right into my pants. Then I smoked it in the bathroom so I wouldn’t be afraid to, like, have sex with him again and got caught.”

  “Well, now, that puts a new light on everything,” Tessa said.

  Melody shut her eyes tightly. “You’re not going to yell at me for having sex with him?”

  Tessa’s heart went out to the girl. She’d given away a precious gift and some smart-ass kid hadn’t been mature enough to appreciate it. “No, it’s done and can’t be undone.”

  “Are you going to tell Aunt Ivy?”

  Tessa sat down beside her, drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. “No, I am not. Did you make him use protection?”

  “Duh!” Melody slapped her head. “I’m, like, young. I’m not dumb.”

  “Okay, then, the way I see it was that it was your decision, although I think we should castrate him for getting you high so you’d say yes,” Tessa said.

  Melody giggled. “Now, he’s already dating another girl, Tessa. He’s the quarterback of the football team and she says that the head cheerleader is, like, supposed to date the quarterback, that it’s, like, tradition.”

  Tessa lay back in the grass still wet from when the sprinklers did their job earlier. “How many girls are in your little clique of friends? Tell me about them. Who’s the most popular? Are you cheerleaders?”