Stevie did the math in her head, starting with the year that Betsy had graduated from high school, and figuring out that she was in her early forties. The woman was only a few years older than Stevie and already a grandmother. That little bit of revelation set Stevie’s biological clock to ticking so loudly that she could hardly hear the last of the song they were singing. Even if she had a child in the next couple of years, she most likely wouldn’t be a grandmother until she was in her sixties.
I never got to be one, her mother said very loudly in her head.
Stevie came back to the present with a little jerk when the preacher cleared his throat. Cody touched her on the arm and asked, “Are you cold? Do you need my jacket?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I was just woolgathering and you startled me.”
“Been there,” Cody said, “done that many times in church.”
The preacher said something about his sermon being about the fruits of the spirit from Galatians, but that was the last thing that Stevie heard. She went right back into her woolgathering and thought about all that had happened since her first tire went flat. In less than two weeks, she had gone from sitting on the back pew in church all alone because she couldn’t bear to sit where she and her mother had sat, to sharing space with the Ryan family. If someone had told her the last Sunday she was here that she would be sitting with Cody the next time she attended services, she would have told them what they were full of—and it would not have been the fruits of the spirit.
“Hey, everyone.” Mia came into the house holding Beau’s hand. “I want you to meet Beau Martin.” She made introductions, and he shook hands with each person, even little Sam and Taylor.
Stevie was just a tad bit jealous in that moment. She had never gotten to take a boyfriend home to meet her mother and father. She had attended her junior and senior proms as a single girl and had only stayed long enough to have her picture taken in front of the backdrop for the theme of the prom. Those were two of the pictures still hanging in the hallway of her house.
“Beau, you can go visit with the guys in the living room while I help Mama get dinner on the table. I hope you like ham,” Mia said.
“I love home-cooked anything, but ham is about my favorite dinner,” Beau said with a smile, “and don’t worry about me, Mia. I like to visit about ranching.” He sat down on the floor in front of the twins, who were still in their carriers. “Can I take one or both of them out and hold them? I’m really good with babies. I’ve got a niece who’s about this age, and a nephew who’s a little older. I’m their favorite uncle.”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “They’d love a little extra attention.”
“Wow!” Stevie whispered as she locked arms with Mia and the two of them headed toward the kitchen. “Is he real? Jesse already likes him.”
“How can you tell?” Mia asked.
“By his expression. His eyes are twinkling like yours do when you are playing with your little brothers,” Stevie said.
“I hope you’re right, because I really do like Beau.” Mia stepped away from her when they reached the kitchen and started setting the table.
“What can I do to help?” Stevie asked.
“You can take the ham out of the oven and slide in the sweet potato casserole,” Pearl said. “Then you can slice the ham. The electric knife is in the cabinet under the bar.”
Addy hip-bumped Mia. “Why haven’t you brought Beau home before now?”
“Because I’m not rushing into anything, ever again, amen,” Mia answered. “Not even with him, even though he seems like a really good guy. He’s the youngest of three kids, and his brother and sister are, like, ten years older than he is. I’m the oldest of three, and according to the internet, that’s supposed to be a perfect match. But I’m not taking any chances, not even when statistics say everything is fine and dandy.”
“Good girl,” Pearl said. “But, darlin’, you need to listen to your heart, not to the internet.”
“You are so right, Nana,” Mia agreed, “and my heart says to go slow, to build a friendship before a relationship.”
“Yep, that love stuff only lasts a little while every day, but friendship takes you through the tough times.” Pearl brought out a loaf of homemade bread and sliced it.
“Are you talking about love or lust?” Mia asked.
“Honey, you can call it whatever you want, but marriage is not another word for sex. Marriage is a sacred agreement between two people to live together and love each other through good times and bad and through poverty or riches. It’s about sticking together side by side even when you want to shoot him and throw his sorry carcass out for the coyotes’ supper,” Pearl told her.
“Nana!” Mia gasped. “You never felt like that about Poppa. Y’all have had a perfect marriage.”
Pearl stopped what she was doing and gave Mia a hug. “You just keep believing that. I wouldn’t burst that bubble for all the dirt in Texas.”
“She’s right,” Addy said, “and as much as I love your father, there are times when he’s lucky that he’s not breakfast for the coyotes.”
Mia’s blue eyes almost popped out of her head. “Mama! I thought you and Daddy never had a disagreement.”
“We don’t”—Addy took a bowl of cranberry salad from the refrigerator and put it on the table—“at least, not in front of the family. We settle our differences in the bedroom and then have amazing makeup…”
Mia stuck her fingers in her ears and started singing, “Fa-la-la-la.”
Stevie laughed so hard that she had to peel a paper towel from the roll and dry her eyes with it. “How do you…” She finally got control, then got the hiccups. “Think you got here, Mia? Parents do have sex.”
“I know all that, but I don’t want to hear about it from my mama”—she shot a look over at Pearl—“or from my nana. I want to think that they found their kids under a cabbage plant in the garden or else the stork brought them on a stormy night. And besides, this is a first date with Beau. I’m not going to marry him or anyone else next week.”
“Well, thank God for that!” Addy wiped her forehead in a dramatic gesture that was obviously fake. “I was worried about having to get a wedding planned in just seven days.”
That comment made Stevie’s thoughts go toward a wedding of her own. Would she want a long engagement, maybe live with a guy for six months or a year before they took that mile-long walk down the aisle? Would she even want the big dress and the wedding cake, or would she rather just take an hour out of the day and go to the courthouse?
“Oh, Mama,” Mia sighed. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. When I get married, I want the whole enchilada—the big dress, the flowers, and the cake. I want to have music and dance with my groom, and then with Daddy while you dance with the groom. I don’t want to elope, and believe me, I will give you a lot longer than a week to plan the wedding.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Addy said, “but for today, let’s get Sunday dinner on the table before those men start whining about starving to death.”