Brown Eyed Girl (6 page)

Tiffany looked mortified. “You know about that?”

“
Yes, but I’d love to hear your version of the story.”

Tiffany filled Vivienne in on how Red had taken his sweet time to tell her about Tanner’s broken nose. “Red just wanted him to suffer. Of course, if he’d told me that Tanner had come on to Annie, I wouldn’t have slapped him.” Tiffany clenched both her hands into fists. “The thing is, I have all this pent up resentment for Tanner, you know?”

“
I’ll know if you tell me.”

She looked at Vivienne. “I’m so angry about my hair.”

“
What about your hair, Tiffany? You have lovely hair. It’s very...polished...sophisticated.”

Tiffany shook her head. “It’s not me. I do this for Tanner. He’s got this idea that any woman who doesn’t have straight, blonde hair is beneath him. So, I go every two weeks to have my roots done, and I waste an hour every morning straightening my hair. And I resent it...and
him
...the entire time I’m doing it. It’s sad that the man I’m supposed to marry doesn’t think I’m good enough the way I am.”

“
Are you telling me you have naturally, curly hair?” Vivienne asked in astonishment.

“
Yes ma’am—mousy brown, naturally curly hair,” she said. She pointed with both hands to her hair. “
This
is not me.”

Vivienne shook her head. “Why would you go to so much trouble for a man who shows so little respect for you?”

Tiffany shrugged. “I thought if I tried my hardest, one day we could find a way to be happy with each other. You know, he even tried to convince me to wear blue tinted contacts once to change the color of my eyes. I don’t even need contacts.”

“
Blonde hair and blue eyes—Who does he think he is, Hitler?” Vivienne said, sounding disgusted. “Find yourself, Tiffany. Not who anyone else wants you to be, but the person you’re meant to be. If the people who supposedly love you can’t accept that, then
c’est la vie—
that’s life.”

“
Should I call off my engagement?” Tiffany asked her.

Vivienne raised her hands. “I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. I don’t know Tanner. Do you think he’d change?”

Tiffany sighed. “I think even if he could, it’s too late. I’d never be able to trust him.”

“
Well, I’m old enough to know that time is precious, dear. It’s foolish to waste it on something that can’t be.”

Tiffany shook her head. “But my parents...”

“
They’ll accept it, eventually. I know this because my mother tried to marry me off to another man. Her ‘good catch’ was Marshall Baker. Good looking, conceited, and a perfectly awful dancer. But worse by far, was the fact that he loved flaunting his wealth. I’ve never been impressed by money.”

“
I’m not either, Mrs. Vivienne.”

“
Marshall asked me to go to a dance in town and I accepted because no one else asked me. I was seventeen years old, and I’ll never forget that night. Marshall had gone outside with his buddies, and there I sat on a bench with my shoes off. When Pete McAllister walked up and asked me to dance, I nearly turned him down because Marshall had been stepping on my feet all night long. Pete and I were both raised in the same small town so I knew who he was, but he was four years older and I’d never been that near him. I looked up into those blue eyes as he held his hand out to me. He said, ‘Come on, Vivi, give me a chance. I won’t hurt you, and I promise not to step on your toes.’ It turned out he was a wonderful dancer, and by the end of the song, I was smitten.”

“
What song was it?”

“
All I Have to Do is Dream
by the Everly Brothers. He told me later that he’d waited all night long for Marshall to leave me alone. As soon as he did, Pete went to the guy playing the records and paid him two dollars to play that song. Two bucks was a pretty good tip back then.”

“
That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Tiffany said.

“
It is, isn’t it? You see, Pete used to come to our farm to help my dad, because I didn’t have any brothers. One day dad asked him his opinion of Marshall Baker and Pete said he didn’t like him much. Dad told him, “You know, I’d sure hate to see my Vivi end up with him just because you’re too scared to do anything about it.” Up until then Pete thought my father wanted me with Marshall.”

“
How did your mother take the news?”

“
Oh, she fussed awhile then let it go. She knew the McAllister’s were good people. She just didn’t want to see me struggle as a farmer’s wife like she had. The first time I ever went to Pete’s house, and I saw how his parents treated each other, I knew he’d be a wonderful husband. Those old people were crazy about each other. That’s just how Pete and I feel. I told all my children never to settle for less, and so far, they’ve chosen well.” She smiled and placed her hand over Tiffany’s. “Are you feeling better now?”

“
Yes, ma’am, I’m okay,” Tiffany answered.

“
Good, I’m getting hungry and it’s time to eat.”

They were talking amiably as they re-entered the kitchen. Tiffany met Red’s gaze as he walked over to meet them.

“
Where’d you two go off to?” he asked.

“
We had to check out that pool of yours, son. It’s impressive, I must say,” Vivienne said.

“
It is, isn’t it? I swim every day now, when my other pool only got used half the year.”

“
Jackson told me once that you’d built the pool at your last home,” Tiffany said. “Is it true?”

“
It is…I like to relieve stress by working with my hands.”

“
I like to garden and run,” Tiffany said, watching his brow lift as though he were shocked at her admission.

“
You’re a jogger?” Red asked.

“
I don’t jog, I run. I have
a lot
of stress in my life.”

“
So, you
run
away from it?” he commented.

She eyed him warily. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Vivienne cleared her throat. “I’m starving; is it time to eat?” She took Tiffany’s arm and whisked her away from Red, but not before Tiffany saw her aim a glare in her son’s direction.

<>

Within seconds, everyone broke into action, setting the massive dining room table Red had purchased for family gatherings such as this one. Between the table, breakfast table, and island, he had seating for thirty people. Red waited for his sisters to serve and seat the children first, before asking his dad to give the blessing.

He watched Tiffany bow her head in silent prayer, slightly surprised when she crossed herself afterwards.
Tiffany’s Catholic?
He smiled, thinking that was one less thing to worry about.

As the formal dining table filled with adults, Red realized he was lacking one chair. He grabbed one from the breakfast table and placed it between his mom and Tiffany, winking at her curious look. “You know—he said, “—this table looked plenty big enough in the furniture store.”

Tiffany gave a low chuckle. “My parents throw dinner parties all the time and I think their table only seats sixteen.”

“
What if someone shows up unexpectedly?” Red asked.

She plastered an appalled look on her face. “That doesn’t happen at
those
kinds of dinner parties.”

Red laughed. “I guess not. Did you go to many of them?”

“
My brother and I were forced to attend many as we got older. They weren’t much fun, I assure you.”

He leaned close to her. “And…are you having fun today?”

“
I’m beginning to,” she said, with a shy smile.

“
Good.”

Tiffany served herself and took a bite of turkey. “Who baked the bird, Red? It’s perfect.”

“
That would be me,” Red told her.

“
You cook?” she asked.

Red gazed at her over his fork. “You seem surprised. What, I’m not the Neanderthal you thought I was, Tiffy?”

Her words belied her sugary sweet tone. “If you call me that again I might have to hurt you.”

He gave her a sly smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

“
You know, someone just told me I’m a lot tougher than I look,” she said, sending his mother a secretive smile before returning her gaze to his.

“
I don’t doubt that for one bit, but I’d still like to see you try.” Red forced his gaze from her, afraid she’d be able to see just how serious he was.

Red and his guests spent the next forty-five minutes dining on the delicious array of foods as laughter and discussions about everything from politics to sports filled the air.

“
Do you watch football?” Red asked her.

“
Of course I watch football,” she replied.

“
But when the Saints play the Cowboys—do you pull for Dallas?” Conversation came to a dead stop as all heads turned toward her.

Tiffany’s jaw dropped as she faced off with him. “That was low, Red—even for you.”

“
Hey, you being from Texas and all, I thought you might be a Dallas fan.” He smothered a grin as she balled her napkin in one hand.

“
You know,” she said, her tone hard and serious, “I’ve got roots in this state, too. My father was born and raised in Louisiana, and I’ve been a resident for half my life. That was totally uncalled for.”

He grinned smugly. “Just answer the question Tiffy.”

She wiped her mouth on the cloth napkin then threw it deliberately on the table as though challenging him. “Of course I pull for the Saints, and when I’m not pulling for the Saints I
bleed
L.S.U. purple and gold.” Everyone broke into applause.

“
She must have roots in Louisiana, because we’re seeing a little of that Ragin’ Cajun right now,” Pete commented.

“
It’s Red’s rudeness that brought it out,” Bailey added.

Red met the stares of everyone and put his hands up in self defense. “I had to ask!” he said amidst the chorus of boos and hisses.

Tiffany leaned closer to speak lowly into his ear. “They don’t like you much right now.”

“
Easy fix. Who wants dessert?” he shouted, winking at her as boos turned to cheers and hands flew up around the table. “You see? All you have to do is satisfy their sweet tooth and they’re your best friend.” Everyone got up to check out the array of pies, cookies, candies, and other desserts that were set out on the huge buffet.

“
Oh, where’s that pudding?” Giselle asked, reminding Red to get it out of the fridge. “My babies want pudding!”

“
What kind of pudding is this?” Kathleen asked, as she eyed the luscious looking concoction covered with whipped cream.

“
Ba-na-na...Our favorite, isn’t it twins?” Giselle said, patting her belly.

Jackson came back with a dessert bowl filled with it and handed it to her. She took a bite and her eyes widened. “This isn’t pudding from a box is it?” She licked her spoon. “It’s fantastic.”

Tiffany shook her head. “No, it’s homemade. I got the recipe from one of the nurses I work with. I made a double recipe, but I think I should have quadrupled it.”

After a few minutes of everyone scrambling to get pudding, Red began to worry. “Now, look here!” he announced. “This is my house, and I don’t mind having to squeeze a chair in from the kid’s table, but I’m telling ya’ll now, I want some of that pudding.”

“
Here, pass this to him,” Annie said, as she handed the casserole dish to pass around the table to Red.

“
Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” he said, reaching for the dish...the
empty
dish. “Oh, come on! Ya’ll know it’s my favorite.”

“
Here, you big baby,” Bailey said, as she passed him a dessert bowl containing some pudding. “We dished it out so everyone could have some.”

“
Thank you.” He took a bite and rolled his eyes in ecstasy. “Doc, this is excellent.”

“
Tiffany, anytime you come to our house for a meal, you’re designated to bring this for dessert,” Giselle added.

“
I can do that.” Tiffany sat down with a saucer filled with fudge, divinity, and a praline.

“
Didn’t you want pudding?” Red asked her.

“
I can make more of that,” she answered. “I don’t know how to make this stuff
.”

He leaned in closer. “Can I have your share?”

She turned slowly to face him, their noses nearly touching. “I don’t know, Red. What’s it worth to you?”

Their gazes locked and Red caught his breath at the look in her eyes. He gave her a sexy grin. “Name your price. I
really
love...your...banana pudding.”

Tiffany bit her lower lip and looked away. “Take it.”

He grinned at her, and got up to get the last remaining bowl of pudding. When he sat back down he laughed at the face she made as she bit into a praline. “Good, huh?”

“Sugar is my only vice.” She closed her eyes as if savoring the delectable treat.

“I can think of one other vice,” Red told her cryptically. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Hey, you better watch that. You’re getting older and it’ll only get harder to take off those unwanted pounds.”