Turnabout's Fair Play (43 page)

Zarah and Bobby arrived, and it wasn’t long before Bobby splashed them, too.

“We’ve decided we’re going to go to Italy in May next year as soon as school lets out.” Caylor took a sip of water and then dribbled some of it over her shoulders and arms.

Since money was limited—at least as far as Dylan was concerned, as he didn’t want Caylor paying for everything—they’d spent a few days in a cabin on the lake at Fall Creek Falls State Park after their wedding. But their dream honeymoon was Venice.

“It should be gorgeous in May—not yet oppressively hot.”

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the screen door, and Caylor went in to answer. Flannery followed.

Chae and Danny looked a little uncertain, but as soon as Caylor greeted them by name, their ready smiles appeared.

“I’d hug y’all, but I’m damp and covered in sunscreen.”

“We brought a couple of side dishes, as suggested.” Chae held forward a huge bowl of cut melons and another of berries.

Caylor took one, and Flannery took the other, leading Jamie’s friends through to the kitchen. Caylor showed them where they could change clothes, but they’d come prepared, with their swimsuits on under shorts and T-shirts.

With everyone having arrived and the weather too hot to stay out of the water, Flannery, Caylor, Zarah, and Chae risked entering it and were splashed and chased around for their bravery. But eventually they got a heated game of volleyball going—with the guys on the deep-end side of the net, of course.

As Jamie and Flannery had hoped, Danny and Chae fit in with the group perfectly—as if they’d always been around. Chae wasn’t afraid to speak her mind—a very important quality for someone in this group of big opinions and even bigger attitudes—even to the point of staring down Bobby and getting him to admit he’d touched the net when he spiked the ball. And since her conversation with Flannery after the dinner at the Seungs’ home, Chae acted much warmer and friendlier toward Jamie, as if she, too, could see the changes in Jamie that Flannery had seen.

At six, the guys made a big production of getting out of the pool so that they could “cook dinner for the ladies.”

“Of course, we’re the ones who’ll actually do all the work,” Zarah muttered, scrubbing at her wet hair with her colorful beach towel.

“As if you’ve ever complained about that before.” Caylor pushed Zarah’s shoulder.

“Well …” But Zarah conceded the point with a shrug.

After getting dried off and changed, they took over the kitchen, checking the potatoes baking in the oven (which, to Flannery, had been a revelation—she’d never seen a baked potato cooked anywhere but in a microwave oven in her life), finishing off side dishes, and setting out all the food.

Flannery and Chae were sent out to set the long table on the deck with a set of cute melamine dinnerware that one of Caylor’s fellow professors had given them as a wedding gift. The purple-and-turquoise wavy stripes on it recalled the colors from the wedding—Flannery was so glad her dress had been aqua, not lavender—and were perfect for poolside dining.

Everyone exclaimed over the tomatoes and squash from Cookie’s garden.

“Please, take some home with you. We’ve got more than enough already, and more ripening every day.” Jamie passed the platter around again.

Dinner lasted until well after dark, with no one wanting to leave the table even to go get the ice-cream-sundae bar set up.

Finally, Zarah started to get up. But Bobby stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and stood. “Guys, I think we should clear the table and go get dessert ready.”

Impressively, they managed to get everything in just two trips.

“Zarah, you’re the only one who can see around the corner into the house. You’ll have to tell us what they’re doing.” Caylor munched on a piece of ice from her glass.

Zarah tipped her chair back. “Looks like they’re washing dishes.”

“Amazing.” Chae tucked a stray napkin under the citronella candle in the middle of the table to keep it from blowing out into the yard. “I should probably go in and take pictures. I’ve never seen Danny do the dishes before.”

Talk turned to Chae and Danny—with Caylor and Zarah especially fascinated to learn that they’d met through a professional matchmaker. They exchanged smiles.

“We sort of had matchmakers, too, though not of the professional variety.” Both told how their grandmothers—as well as Bobby’s and Dylan’s—had done what they could to push them together.

“And you, Flannery? Did you have a matchmaking grandmother?”

Flannery shook her head.
“Grandfather
. Of course, it backfired on him.”

Chae frowned, concern obvious in her expression. “Oh? How?”

“He ended up marrying Jamie’s grandmother. When they were trying to plot how to get the two of us together, they ended up falling in love with each other. As Jamie put it, turnabout’s fair play.”

“How long is it going to take them to put out ice cream and toppings?” Zarah leaned back again to check their progress.

Caylor stood. “I’ll go see.” She disappeared around the corner into the house.

Moments later, the floodlights on the eaves of the back of the house blazed on. Flannery held her hand up and blinked against the blinding light.

A shuffling and clinking and rustling drew her attention to the main part of the deck up near the door.

“Um, y’all need to come see this,” Caylor called.

Flannery, Zarah, and Chae stood and hurried around the corner of the house—and Flannery’s knees almost gave out as soon as she cleared it.

Standing in the middle of the deck, in the spotlight created by the light on the corner of the house, stood …

She doubled over, trying to catch her breath. She’d seen the Sir Gawain costume in Jamie’s office, but she’d never thought she’d see him in it.

And behind him—three more knights in varying degrees of early medieval armor stood in a row.

The way Caylor held her digital camera, she was probably video-recording the whole thing.

Jamie stepped forward; then, amid protesting costume pieces, he went down onto one knee in front of Flannery. “My lady. I humble myself before you, a poor, lowly knight, laying my honor at your feet, to beseech thee for a favor from your great magnanimity.”

Flannery pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from laughing aloud at Jamie’s nonsensical speech. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and dropped her hands to her side. “What favor might this lowly knight ask of me?”

He grinned up at her for playing along. “My lady would do this lowly knight the greatest honor by granting him the boon of her hand in marriage.”

Now that, she hadn’t been expecting. Her voice died in her throat, along with her ability to breathe.

He shifted, his costume creaking and clicking. “Flan…will you marry me?” He lifted up his hand, and the small, dark object in his hand caught the light—which flickered and flared off the diamond ring inside it.

She cleared her throat. “Aye, Sir Knight. I will grant thee the boon of my hand in marriage.” And before he could launch into any more ridiculous speeches, she bent over, grabbed him, and kissed him. “And it took you long enough to get around to asking,” she whispered.

“What can I say? I’m not the smooth operator your grandfather is.” He stood, and after using his teeth to remove one of his gloves, he put the ring on her finger. “So seriously, it’s yes?”

“Seriously, it’s yes.” She threw her arms around his neck—and regretted it when the costume bit into her skin.

He kissed her again then turned. “Um…do y’all mind giving us a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk to Flan about.”

The guys, already pulling off the hot, heavy costumes, didn’t protest, and the girls went in to put out the sundae fixings.

As soon as the sliding door closed behind Caylor, Jamie pulled off the top half of his costume, to reveal his T-shirt beneath. “Now, I know you aren’t really keen on the idea of becoming Flannery O’Connor when we get married.”

“Jamie, I don’t mind it, really.”

“Well, I do. I don’t want you to have to go through the rest of your life with people commenting on your name—it’s bad enough they do it with just the same first name.”

“I’ve thought about that, too; but Jamie, as much as I’m attached to my family’s name, I want people to know that we’re a family, too, because we share the same name.”

“I know. I feel the same way. But something you said awhile back has really made me think a lot about family and about what my family identity is.” Jamie took her hand and led her to the deck chairs, where they sat, facing each other.

“What did I say?”

“About how I felt like I was having to choose between my birth father and my stepfather in making my career choice. And you were right. I was. I was having to choose between a father who was demanding and unforgiving and a father who’s shown me nothing but acceptance and unconditional love. And I want to show that acceptance and unconditional love back toward Don. Flannery, when we get married, I want both of us to change our last name to Don’s.”

Flannery chewed her bottom lip. At least by changing her name to O’Connor, she still kept her Irish identity. “What’s Don’s last name?”

Jamie grinned. “Murphy.”

“Murphy…but that’s—”

“Irish, I know.”

Flannery flung her arms around his neck again, so relieved she wouldn’t have to be Flannery O’Connor
or
give up having an Irish last name. She sat back and wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Could today get any more perfect?

“So, you see, it’s like a reverse adoption—I refused to allow Don to adopt me when I was a teenager, so now I’m adopting him by officially taking his last name.”

She ran the backs of her fingers along his jaw. “You’re a good son.”

“He’s a good father.”

Flannery leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you, my knight in shining armor.”

“I love you, my princess.”

Epilogue

M
aureen blotted her cheeks with a handkerchief as she carried the white rose to the front of the chapel. Just over five months since her wedding, and now, here she was again.

She looked up and thanked the young man who’d escorted her up the aisle, then took her seat on the groom’s side of the room. Kirby winked at her from his place on the platform. Soon Jackie and Don joined her, and Jackie took hold of her hand. Maureen handed her the handkerchief to dry her tears, too.

Their boy was getting married.

The chapel turned out to be the perfect size for the Christmastime wedding. Flannery looked stunning in her simple white gown, and Jamie, more handsome than ever in his suit. Their ceremony lasted a little longer than hers and Kirby’s had—but they had a preacher, not a retired judge. And Kirby had a pretty good wind in the pulpit. Fortunately, Flannery had talked him out of “sermonizing” on the history of marriage. And by asking her grandfather to officiate the wedding, she’d solved the problem of which side to seat him and Maureen on—or whether to separate them and have one on each side.

Soon, Kirby pronounced them husband and wife, and Jamie kissed Flannery. And kept kissing her to the point where the crowd began to titter and giggle. And then he kissed her again, just for good measure, apparently. Everyone cheered and clapped when Jamie turned and pumped his arms up in the air in a victory gesture. Flannery took him by the hand and made him leave the chapel.

All the pictures had been taken beforehand, so everyone headed across the cold courtyard to the community center for the reception—a simple affair that seemed more like a Christmas party, especially with people taking turns on the stage at the far end singing all manner of holiday songs with accompaniment from musicians from Caylor’s school.

Maureen had barely had time to congratulate her grandson and granddaughter-in-law—twice over—when she found herself surrounded by her four dearest friends in the world.

“It’s hard to believe that it’s only been sixteen months since we stood right here”—Trina Breitinger paused—“well, over there in the worship center, and bemoaned the fact that none of us had married grandchildren.”

“And look at us now.” Perty Bradley beamed up toward the stage, where Caylor had dragged Dylan, Zarah, and Bobby up to sing “White Christmas” with her.

“All of us with at least one grandchild married—and we got Maureen married off in the process, too.” Lindy Patterson gave Maureen a one-armed squeeze.

“I would say, all in all, we make pretty successful matchmakers.” Sassy Evans squinted toward the stage and smiled and waved at her granddaughter and grandson-in-law.

“I agree.” Maureen raised her glass of cranberry-flavored punch. “To the matchmakers. May we make many more successful matches for our—well,
your
—grandchildren.”

“Hear, hear!” cheered the others.

After taking a sip, Trina set her glass down and took Lindy’s hand. Lindy did the same, taking Maureen’s hand; and soon all five had joined hands in a circle. Trina bowed her head. “Lord, I know we probably didn’t set about this with the best of intentions, but You blessed our meddling, matchmaking efforts anyway. Now, we ask that You bless our grandchildren with happy, healthy lives and homes, and guide them in Your pathways. Amen.”