Stuck in the Middle (23 page)

Actually, Joan had another reason for not wanting to go to Lexington tonight for a Sanderson Sister Sleepover, but she felt hesitant to mention it. She wasn’t sure how Tori and Allie would react when she told them she wanted to be home in time for Sunday school in the morning.

“Maybe we could do it next Saturday, and that way we can make some plans.”

Tori’s voice held a faint touch of criticism. “You can’t plan your entire life. Be impulsive! Be reckless! Let something spur-of-the-moment disrupt your schedule every now and then.”

Joan’s legs went wobbly, and she dropped into a chair. Did Tori just use the word
disrupt
, the very word Gram used two nights ago to describe the miracles Mrs. Sachs talked about? Surely that word choice was a coincidence. God wouldn’t arrange something as trivial and unreligious as a Sanderson Sister Sleepover just to introduce a little disruption into Joan’s life.

Would he?

Why did she feel suddenly like God was watching, waiting to see what she would do? Clutching the receiver, she steadfastly refused to look toward the ceiling, which, of course, was stupid. God wasn’t up there peeking through a peephole in the roof. That was beyond stupid, just like the notion of God putting the idea of a sleepover into Tori’s brain. To think her materialistic little sister could be a messenger from heaven was laughable. Tori never even talked about God, and she refused to go out with Ken because he did.

Joan’s head swam. Maybe a night with her sisters wasn’t a bad idea after all. Heart pounding, and still avoiding the ceiling, she schooled her voice to remain calm. “You’re right. I’ll be there.”

“Terrific!” Tori’s giggle sounded in her ear. “Allie’s expecting you to pick her up at 7:30. She’s bringing a bunch of DVDs, and I’ll go to the store and stock up on Doritos and Dr Pepper.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tonight.”

Joan replaced the receiver and sat listening to her pulse pound in her ears. What a totally ludicrous thought that God would want her to choose a sleepover with her sisters over Sunday school. An evening of Doritos and Dr Pepper? Nothing even remotely religious about that. She risked an upward glance. Nothing up there but the ceiling, and the feeling of being watched was gone. A ridiculous notion, anyway. She was letting her imagination get the best of her.

“I love this place.” Allie waltzed through Tori’s front door and executed a 360 as she admired the spacious living room. “You’re so lucky, Tori.”

Joan followed, an overnight bag slung on each shoulder. While Tori closed the door behind them, she looked at the entertainment center that dominated an entire wall, and ran a hand across the top of a big flat-screen television set. “This is new, isn’t it?”

“I’ve had it about a month.” Tori caught her in a hug, her grin so wide double dimples punctuated her cheeks. “I’m so glad you guys are here.”

Allie pulled a stack of DVDs out of the plastic sack she carried and held them up with a flourish. “We’re going to have a Hugh-fest tonight.”

“Hugh-fest?” Joan asked.

“Hugh Jackman and Hugh Grant.”

Tori grabbed
Kate & Leopold
and clutched it to her chest. “I love this movie! Let’s watch it first.”

She whirled and dropped to her knees to put the disc into a DVD player.

“I’m starved.” Allie turned toward the kitchen. “What’s there to eat?”

“I ordered pizza about ten minutes ago. It’ll be here soon.”

“Where are we sleeping?” Joan patted hers and Allie’s overnight bags. “I’ll put these away.”

Tori jumped to her feet and grabbed the bags from her. “I don’t have any furniture in the second bedroom yet, so I’ll put them in my room. But it won’t matter,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hallway. “Nobody’s sleeping tonight anyway.”

“Maybe not,” Allie said, coming out of the kitchen with a handful of Doritos, “but I’m going to get comfortable in my PJs and slippers.”

Joan snatched a chip from Allie’s hand, chuckling. Nobody ever slept at a sleepover. They’d eat and laugh and watch movies all night long. They’d be tired and cranky in the morning, and they’d probably be in bed by six o’clock tomorrow night.

Tori came back into the room carrying the open Doritos bag and a can of bean dip, which she put on the coffee table. She dropped into a chair while Allie positioned herself on the sofa within easy reach of the dip. Joan sat on the other side.

“So what’s up with the religious nut?” A chip poised before her mouth, Tori pierced Joan with a blue stare.

Joan gave a bewildered shrug. “I haven’t seen any sign of him in a week.”

Actually, she hadn’t even thought about Ken much for the past couple of days. Instead, her thoughts had revolved around Mrs. Sachs and her ice cream story, and Thursday night’s conversation with Mom.

“I’m totally shocked,” Tori said. “The way he was checking you out last Sunday, I was sure he would call you.”

“Me too,” chimed in Allie. “Especially after his sister told Joan he was interested in her.”

“What?” Tori’s eyelids narrowed. “You met his sister? What did she say?”

Joan searched her little sister’s face but saw no sign of jealousy there. One thing about Tori, when she decided to move on, she didn’t hold any grudges. There wasn’t a resentful bone in her dainty little body.

But there was something else there, something that made Joan uneasy. Disdain, maybe? Ken’s outspokenness about his faith had apparently left a bad taste in Tori’s mouth. That worried Joan who suddenly realized she would feel weird dating a guy her sister disliked.

But for that to happen, Ken would have to actually be interested enough in her to ask her out on a date. And so far Karen appeared to be wrong.

She shrugged again. “She said she thought he liked me, but if he does, he has a funny way of showing it.”

“Men are weird.” Allie scooped bean dip on a chip. “Take Eric, for instance. Do you know what he wants to name our baby?” She paused for effect, looking first Joan and then Tori in the eye. “Wilhelmina.”

Tori threw back her head and laughed, while Joan raised an eyebrow. “Wilhelmina? Is it, like, a family name or something?”

Allie shook her head. “No, he just heard it somewhere. And that’s not all. He wants to call her Willie.”

She bit into the chip as Tori exclaimed, “Willie? What is he trying to do, destroy the poor child’s life? The kids at school will terrorize her.”

“Don’t worry.” Allie chomped a few times and swallowed. “I won’t let that happen. I’ve gone through life as Alana Grace, remember? No weird names for my kid.”

Joan turned a surprised stare on her older sister. “What’s wrong with Alana Grace? I’ve always thought your name was beautiful.”

Sheer disbelief stole over Allie’s features. “You’ve got to be kidding. Whoever heard of Alana? It sounds like something out of Greek mythology. I swear Mom and Daddy were high on something when they came up with that one.”

“But it’s unique, it’s special.”

“It’s weird.” Allie grimaced, and then patted her belly protectively. “My daughter’s going to have a normal name.” Tori leaned forward and fished a chip out of the bag. “And no nicknames, please. Don’t do that to a poor innocent baby.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t.”

Joan’s head swiveled from her younger to her older sister, even more stunned. “What’s wrong with nicknames?”

“They’re embarrassing, that’s what,” Tori said.

Allie nodded. “For the first week of every school year, before the teacher learns your nickname, they call you by your real name in front of everyone. I was mortified. I hated starting school because of that.”

“C’mon, I’m sure that happened to a lot of kids. Nobody noticed.”

Tori tilted her head, thinking. “Nope. I’m sure I was the only one in my class who suffered that public humiliation. And yes, the other kids did notice.” She shuddered. “I’ll never forget Rodney Black’s voice when he teased me. ‘Vic-TOOOO-ree-uh.’ And do you know how many Queen Victoria jabs I put up with?”

“At least Victoria is a name somebody heard of,” Allie complained. “In fourth grade Mrs. Vaughan didn’t pronounce mine right. The kids used to call me Alana Banana on the playground.”

Joan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had no idea her sisters felt this way. She’d always considered their names beautiful, unlike her own. “But nicknames are cool,” she insisted. “They’re a term of endearment. Not like my name.”

Tori cocked her head. “What are you talking about? Joan is a great name.”

“Oh puh-lease!” Joan scoffed to hide a rising resentment. “It’s so . . . plain. You guys got the good names, the ones with personality. Who was I named after? Some old dead aunt.”

“She died of breast cancer when Mom was pregnant with you.” Tori’s voice held a hint of reprimand. “She was Gram’s only sister, and everyone said she was a really neat lady.”

“Maybe she was,” Joan admitted, grudgingly. “But she had a boring name. Did you ever notice that nobody called me by a nickname? I was always just plain old Joan.”

“You just don’t remember,” Allie told her. “Daddy had a nickname for you.”

Joan swiveled toward her older sister. “He did?”

“Sure. When you were little he called you Buggie.”

Joan stared at Allie as forgotten memories resurfaced and washed over her. Her throat threatened to close up. She could see Daddy catching her up in his arms, swinging her high in the air and saying, “How’s my little Buggie today?”

“I remember that,” Tori said, smiling. “I always wondered where it came from.”

Allie smirked. “When she was about three, she ate a June bug.”

“Eeewwww, disgusting!” Tori made gagging noises.

“Daddy told her she couldn’t eat bugs or she would turn into one. He teased her by calling her his little Joan Bug, and then it got shortened to Buggie.”

Joan managed a smile. “You’re right. I had forgotten.” The doorbell sounded, and Tori jumped up. “There’s the pizza.”

“Thank goodness.” Allie settled back into the cushion. “I’m starving.”

Joan went into the kitchen and filled three glasses with ice and Dr Pepper while Tori settled up with the pizza guy. They watched
Kate & Leopold
while they ate. Tori’s big television screen made Joan feel almost like they were at the movies. They sighed over Hugh Jackman’s sexy good looks and poked fun at Meg Ryan’s ragged haircut in loud voices that would surely have gotten them evicted from a theater.

When the movie ended, Tori replaced it in the machine with
Notting Hill
.

“Ah.” Allie gazed dreamily at the DVD cover. “I just love Hugh Grant.”

Tori giggled. “Bad boys are the most fun, aren’t they?”

Joan thought of Ken. Definitely not a bad boy. Was he fun? She didn’t know. And the way things were going, she probably wouldn’t have an opportunity to find out.

“Not for marrying,” Allie said. “You girls need to find a decent man to marry, like I did.”

Tori returned to her chair and picked up the remote control. “I don’t think I’m going to get married.”

Joan looked at her. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to take a chance.” She picked up an uneaten pizza crust and used it to emphasize her words. “The divorce rate is too high these days.”

“It’s scary,” agreed Allie. “But some things are worth the risk. You know what they say, ‘’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”

Tori turned a sharp look her way. “Do you think Mom feels that way?”

A blast of disgust burst from Joan’s lips, drawing surprised stares from both her sisters. “I highly doubt it.”

“Why do you say that?” Tori nibbled at the crust.

“Well . . .” Joan looked from her to Allie. “Obviously she’s not pining over lost love. She’s the one who chose divorce. She kicked Daddy out.”

Allie’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you serious?”

Why did she have such a look of disbelief on her face? Joan swept her gaze to include both sisters. “Well, that’s what happened.”

“So you would have let him stay? You would put up with a pot-smoking husband who slept with every woman he knew, including your best friend?”

Joan’s jaw dropped. No! That wasn’t true. Not Daddy. He didn’t sleep around. He couldn’t have. Surely she would have known something like that. And yes, she remembered that he smoked, but pot?

“Daddy fooled around on Mom?” Tori’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“Constantly.” Allie peeled a piece of pepperoni off a slice of lukewarm pizza and popped it into her mouth. “Once when I was about thirteen, I came around the corner of the house and caught him kissing Jessie Nelson’s mother.”

“I remember her,” Tori said. “She lived down the street at our old house.”

Joan remembered her too. And she remembered that although Mom was always kind to Jessie when she came over to play, she didn’t like Mrs. Nelson and wouldn’t speak to her. Joan gulped. She also remembered coming home from school one day to find Mom standing in the front yard with her best friend, Patti Keller. Mrs. Keller stood beside her car, crying, and Mom’s face had been full of anguish. They wouldn’t look at each other when she ran up to give Mom a hug. Something terrible had happened, but when she asked what was wrong, Mom told her to go inside the house. She never saw Mrs. Keller again.