Every Girl Gets Confused (8 page)

“I won't say a word, I promise.” The idea of Joni and Levi as a couple seemed strange at best. They didn't seem to have much in common. Interesting.

“All this talk about folks falling in love is making me hungry.” Alva glanced at the register. “I'm going to eat my weight in chicken strips, fries, and ice cream. If they ever get my order filled, I mean. I'd better go find out what's keeping them.”

“Might as well order, myself.” Bessie May scooted to the edge of the bench and attempted to stand. Alva tried to give her a hand but nearly took a tumble in the process. Then Ophelia joined them and they all headed over to the register.

“I'm sorry about all of that, Katie,” Lori-Lou said.

“All of what?”

“That misunderstanding about Brady proposing.”

“Oh, no biggie.” With a wave of my hand I did my best to dismiss any concerns.

She gave me a sympathetic look. “You and Brady are a match made in heaven. He'll pop the question soon.”

“You think?” I considered her words. “You used to say that about Casey too, remember? In fact, it was less than six months ago. I was sitting in my car, right out there . . .” I pointed out the plate-glass window to the parking lot beyond.

At that very moment the door of Dairy Queen opened and a man stepped inside.

A familiar man.

Casey Lawson.

If it's true that men are such beasts, this must account for the fact that most women are animal lovers.

Doris Day

K
atie?” Casey approached our booth and stared at me, a smile curling up the edges of his lips—those same lips I'd kissed a thousand times. “You're back in town?”

I could've asked him the very same question. Instead, I nodded. “Yeah. We're planning Queenie's bridal shower.”
Didn't
I just tell you all of this when we talked
on the phone?

“Ah.” He glanced down at our table. The table where we'd talked about our hopes, our dreams, our aspirations. The table
where we'd held hands, dipped French fries in ketchup, and talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up.

Only, now we
were
grown up. And he was no longer at the table. That idea should've suited me just fine, especially since I had the best guy in the world waiting for me back in Dallas, but for some reason I couldn't seem to see past the familiar boyfriend—er, ex-boyfriend—standing right in front of me.

Alva walked up with my basket of food in her hand, which she plopped on the table in front of me. It looked and smelled amazing, the crispy fries tantalizing me at once and the chicken strips the perfect shade of golden brown. Behind her, Bessie May and Ophelia arrived with food in hand as well. They all took their seats and dove right in.

Casey glanced down and smiled. “You're eating the chicken strips. Might've guessed.”

“I ordered you an M&M Blizzard too, Katie.” Alva gave me a knowing look. “It'll be ready as soon as you're done with the chicken.”

“M&M?” Casey looked shocked. “You always had the Oreo.”

“Things change, Casey.” I gave him a piercing look and hoped he would take the hint. “
Preferences
change.”

“Ah. Got it. Well, you ladies have a nice day. I need to go order my Blizzard and burger. I'm in town for the whole weekend.” He paused as if waiting for me to respond in some way. I didn't. I just offered him a polite smile and got busy eating my chicken strips.

I couldn't help but watch as he sauntered to the register and ordered the Oreo Blizzard. I knew he would, of course. He'd always had the Oreo. His tastes obviously hadn't changed. I tried not to read too much into that notion.

Even after Queenie arrived, my thoughts kept traveling back
to Casey. I did my best to push them aside as I greeted my grandmother.

Now, I'd obviously known Queenie all my life, but I had never seen her this happy. Truly, the past few months had transformed her, not just internally but externally as well. For a woman of eighty-two, she looked blissfully young.

For that matter, so did the young woman who'd come with her. Joni. The once-tough softball player had apparently softened around the edges. She looked downright feminine. And peaceful. I'd rarely seen her looking this at ease.

Alva pulled baby Joshie out of the high chair and nudged it away from the table. Queenie and Joni pulled a couple of chairs into the spot and settled into place. Alva bounced the baby up and down on her knee and spoke in baby talk to him. Until he slobbered all over her blouse. Then she passed him to his mother.

Yep. We were definitely ready for our meeting. And with so many women seated at the end of our table, I could barely see past them to Casey. Not that I wanted to see Casey, exactly.

“Okay, let's get this show on the road. I've got a long day ahead of me.” Queenie put her hands on the table. “Lots of work to get done.”

Joni pulled an iPad out of her bag and fired it up. “Everything's under control. No worries.” She'd condensed everything into a spreadsheet, which she handled with grace and ease. All the while she kept us laughing and smiling, not an easy task with Ophelia hollering, “Eh? What'd you say? I left my hearing aid at home, girl!”

“Queenie and I have worked out the logistics of the event, and invitations have gone out,” Joni explained. “The ceremony will be at ten in the morning. Bridesmaids will be Alva, Bessie May, Ophelia, and Prissy Moyer—who, by the way, is sorry she couldn't be with us today.”

“All WOP-pers but Alva,” Bessie May said, the pride in her voice evident. “And we're making her an honorary WOP-per.”

“Gee, thanks.” Alva continued to wipe the spit-up off her blouse. “I feel so special.”

I flinched a little when my name wasn't listed as a bridesmaid, until I realized all of the bridesmaids were over the age of seventy. Perhaps it was a blessing not to be added to that group just yet, though I did feel myself aging as Bessie May went off on a tangent about how she hoped her irritable bowel syndrome wouldn't prove to be problematic on the big day. Lovely. At the next table Gilly and Mariela took to fighting over the colors. They both wanted red.

“I'll be seeing red if those two keep it up,” Ophelia muttered. “Could someone please do something about them?”

Naturally, this offended Lori-Lou, who snapped at the kids and then focused on her phone instead of the meeting.

Joni finally managed to pull the conversation back on track. I gave her an admiring look, pausing to gaze at her lovely makeup job. The Joni I'd known hadn't worn makeup. Or smelled like perfume. Sure, she was still taller than most of the other girls I knew. And yes, her shoulders were broader too, possibly from all of that softball playing. But I was looking at a woman transformed. Fascinating.

Joni's face lit into a smile as she noticed Casey across the room. “Hey, look who's back in town.”

I glanced over and sighed as I realized his eyes were still on me. Ack. “Yeah. I've already talked to him.” I kept my attention on the to-do list, unwilling to let myself get caught in Casey's gaze once more.

“I haven't yet. If you ladies don't mind, I'm going to order some food and say hello.”

“Don't mind a bit,” I said. I watched as she walked over to Casey's table and stood next to him.

“Isn't she the sweetest thing?” Queenie gave her an admiring look. “I daresay she's one of the most talented girls in town. And kindhearted too. Sweeter than peaches.”

“I say we nominate her for Peach Queen this spring,” Ophelia said. “What do you think of them apples?”

“I'd say you're a few years too late, Ophelia,” Bessie May said. “You have obviously forgotten that Ms. Peach has to be no older than nineteen years of age. Joni is older than that.”

“She graduated the year before me,” I said. “So she's probably a little too old. But other than that she sure seems like a shoo-in.” I watched her easygoing conversation with Casey. “Looks like she's won Casey over, and that's not easy these days.”

“She's got a way about her.” Queenie smiled. “It just goes to show you a little love goes a long, long way. It wasn't that long ago—a few months, really—when Joni was on the fringes. No friends. No social life. I believe she was in a depression, if you want the truth of it. But thanks to Levi Nash—God bless that sweet boy—she found her place. And there's no turning back.”

“Right.”

Laughter rang out from Joni and Casey, who appeared to be sharing some sort of joke. I watched them with interest. I realized I'd judged her unfairly in the past, mostly because of physical appearance and mannerisms. She might be a little, er, manly. A little rough around the edges. But something had softened her. As I saw her with Casey, watching the crinkles around her eyes when she laughed, she looked beautiful.

“So, tell me what we're lacking, Queenie.” I turned my attention back to my grandmother. “How can I help with the wedding?”

“I can't think of a thing, sweet girl. The whole town has swept in around me to fill every need, right down to the chicken finger appetizers at the reception.” She gave a nod to the Dairy Queen manager, who tipped his hat at her.

“Is he providing Blizzards too?” I asked.

My grandmother chuckled. “Well, no, but that's a lovely idea. Do you think I should ask him?”

“Nah, that wasn't my point.” I laughed. “But you are truly the most loved woman I've ever known. Everyone wants your day to be special, and that does my heart good.”

“You don't know the half of it, Katie. Ginger Harris has offered to loan me all of the tablecloths she bought for her daughter's wedding. And Ophelia here is making my cake—each of the four tiers a different flavor.”

Ophelia looked up from her chicken finger basket. “White with strawberry filling. Chocolate with caramel filling. Italian cream cake and . . . what's the fourth one again, Queenie?”

“Lemon raspberry.”

“Yes. Lemon raspberry.” Ophelia took another bite of chicken and a look of satisfaction came over her. “Though I personally don't think as many people will eat the lemon.”

“I heard you were making the cake, Ophelia,” I said. “I've been wondering how you planned to transport it to the church.”

“Oh, I'm bringing it in layers. Bessie May is swinging by to pick me up in her SUV. I believe we'll have enough space for all four tiers. I just hope it's enough cake for all of the guests we're expecting. This is going to be the shindig of the year.”

“The year?” Queenie laughed. “The decade is more like it.”

“True. Anyone who's anyone'll be there,” Bessie May interjected. “The invitations just went out a few days ago and we've already had more than 80 percent of the potential guests RSVP.”

“You're well loved for sure, Queenie.” Lori-Lou fished around in her purse for lipstick.

“But don't you worry about how I'll put the cake together, Katie,” Ophelia said. “I'll assemble it at the church and then add the trim work. And if it looks like the crowd is growing, I'll add a fifth tier. I'll make it a marbled cake. Folks love that.”

“She's really a wonder, Katie,” my grandmother said. “You'd be surprised at how gifted some of us golden-years ladies are.”

“Oh, not surprised by that at all,” I said. “I hope to be half the woman you are when I'm your age.”

“Not much chance of that if you keep swallowing down those chicken strips.” Bessie May pursed her lips. “But what were we talking about?”

“Talking about how well loved I am,” Queenie said. “Katie's brothers are going to help set up the tables in the reception hall, and her father is giving me away.”

“I'm sure he feels so honored to be able to do that,” I said.

“Maybe. From what your mother told me a while back, he's put on so much weight from their cruises that he barely fits into his suit anymore.”

“Oh, I can get him fitted with a tuxedo.” I scribbled that down on my paper so I wouldn't forget. “No problem.”

“Your father in a tuxedo? That'll be the day. Anyway, everything's coming together and I couldn't be happier.” She released a contented sigh. “I really mean that. I don't recall being happier in my entire life.”

“I'm so glad, Queenie.”

She leaned forward and gave me a compassionate look. “I want the same for you, honey-bun. I want you to marry Brady and let us lavish you with blessings too.”

“Oh, I . . . well . . .”

“I know, I know. But he's going to propose soon.”

“That's what we all said about Casey too, remember?” I caught a glimpse of my ex out of the corner of my eye, still laughing and talking with Joni, who had apparently forgotten the reason she'd come to Dairy Queen in the first place.

“Yes, well . . .” With a wave of her hand Queenie dismissed that idea. “I never thought the two of you were much of a match.”

I lowered my voice to keep from being overheard. “You could have mentioned that at any time during the many years we were dating.”

“Would it have done any good? You were blinded by love.” Queenie's nose wrinkled. “Or you were blinded by the idea of being
in
love. It doesn't hurt your feelings if I say it like that, does it, Katie?”

I shrugged. “I think I really loved Casey. He's a great guy. Just not
the
guy.”

“And now you've found
the
guy?” Bessie May gave me a curious look. “That football fella? The one with the broken arm?”

“Basketball,” Alva said. “Knee.”

“Yeah, I've been having trouble with my knee all week,” Ophelia said. “But it has nothing to do with basketball.”

I sighed. “Just keep praying for Brady, Queenie. He's in so much pain with his knee. I know you know what that's like. But I think there's a lot going on in his head that he's not sharing with me.”

“He's disappointed that he's unable to go back to playing basketball, you mean.”

“I guess. A couple of months back he seemed reconciled to the idea, so I'm kind of confused that it's suddenly bugging him so much again. But it is.”

“He can always go back to football,” Bessie May said.
“Though I never understood why those fellas felt the need to run around the field in those tight pants. Just seems so . . . girlie. Patting one another on the fannies and such.” She fanned herself with her napkin. “Strange behaviors.”

Joni picked that exact moment to return to our table, food in hand. “What did I miss?”

“You don't want to know.” Lori-Lou looked up from her phone. “But it was interesting, to say the least.”

Moments later Casey rose from his table and walked our direction. “Great to see you ladies again.” He offered my grandmother a warm smile. “And congratulations, Queenie. I'm so happy for you. We all are.”

“Why, thank you, Casey. That means a lot.”

“You still working in Tulsa, Casey?” Ophelia licked the chicken finger crumbs from her fingers.

“Yes. For now, anyway. Not sure how long that'll last, though. I might end up back in Fairfield. My father needs help on the property and I really miss everyone.” He gave me a piercing look. “Kind of feels like I left pieces of my heart back here. You know?”