“Did you have fun at your dinner out with your friends last weekend?”
“Yes.” It had not been a fancy meal. They had—kids, babies, and all—gone down to Birmingham for a big, loud, messy Mexican meal. Kirby, who was home for winter break, had joined them. He had a girl with him, who the women grilled and the men tried to rescue. “After we had dinner, we drove around in a caravan and looked at Christmas lights. Missy declared it a success so it must have been. She says it’s our new Christmas tradition. Of course, Missy declares a new tradition about as often as the wind changes direction.”
“Still,” Big Mama said, “tradition is nice. History . . . a feeling of belonging. You are all lucky that Missy has appointed herself the gatekeeper for your friendships and traditions.”
“You’ve got that right. She’s the gatekeeper. She decides who gets in and nobody gets out.”
He regretted it as soon as he said it. Big Mama laughed but there was a little sadness hanging around in the background. Big Mama had been the gatekeeper for their family, but he’d been the gate crasher. And now, she was probably wondering if she would ever have another holiday season like this one, or if he’d be off in New England, New Orleans, or Timbuktu, where he might or might not allow her and Charles to meet him at a restaurant on Christmas Day.
It was time. “Big Mama,” he said quietly, “You are the first to hear this. I have told no one else, not even Dad. A long time ago you told me that when the time came, I could choose an engagement ring from the family jewelry. That time has come. Is that promise still good?”
“Well—” He had never seen Caroline Brantley look so befuddled; come to think of it, he’d never seen her look befuddled at all. And her face had gone white. “Well, darling, of course. Yes. But—”
“But what?”
“But who, Brantley?”
She was kidding, right? “Who? Lucy, of course. Who did you think?”
She put her hands up palms out and closed her eyes. “I didn’t think. I mean to say, it’s been such a short time with you and Lucy, that I was afraid . . . I mean, I thought it was possible that . . .”
Even after all this time, she would not say it, would not criticize his choices.
But he would. He crossed to where she sat and settled on the ottoman. “I am not going to marry Rita May, Big Mama. I am never going back to Rita May. I have not heard from her, seen her, or thought about her. It’s all Lucy.”
She didn’t look much happier. “I see.”
Oh, hell, no. Rita May was one thing. She deserved to be disliked; she got up in the morning begging for it. But Lucy was another. “I thought you liked Lucy,” he said coldly.
She looked up, shocked. “Like Lucy? My darling, I love Lucy. So does your father. We adore her. It’s just that it’s been such a short time. Are you sure?”
“Not so short,” he said. “I know we haven’t been strictly involved long, but we’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s not like I met her last month.”
Caroline was nodding now, getting some of her color back. “And Lucy is open to this? You aren’t rushing her?”
Rushing her? “No. I know my mind and I know Lucy’s.”
He was on the verge of asking if he was getting a ring or wasn’t he? Though it wasn’t really a question of getting a ring. Because he was getting a ring. Today. Asa Reed would sell him any ring he wanted without all these questions. He just wasn’t sure if he was getting a family ring. And if Caroline couldn’t be on board one hundred percent, he didn’t want one.
“Well, all right then,” she said. “As long as you are both sure. That said, I cannot begin to tell you how happy this makes me.” And she did look happy. Finally. She leaned over to embrace him. “And I know Charles will feel the same. Of course, you will have any ring you want, save the one on my finger. And that will come soon enough.” She held out her hand where she still wore the engagement and wedding rings that Papa had given her.
“Not soon,” Brantley said. “You’re going to be around a long time. And,” he said slowly, “I am going to be here with you. In Merritt. When the Brantley Building is finished, I will have to set up my office, of course. I’ll need a place. I know you said you were going to use Papa’s old office, but I thought—”
And she began to cry. “No. I don’t need an office. I never needed an office. Of course, you will have it. Brantley, this is just the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me. Lucy, you staying here, the office . . . oh, and the wedding!”
Okay. Enough. “First things first,” he said. “About that ring . . .”
She wiped her tears and looked thoughtful. “Yes. About that. Brantley, have you thought of—”
Oh, what now? “Of what?”
“Have you thought of your mother’s rings?”
Oh, damn. Oh, hell. Did not see that coming. His heart began to race and his head spun. Sweating now. Breathe. Didn’t see it coming at all.
And Big Mama wasn’t seeing it. “Eva had such lovely rings. I don’t know if you ever paid much attention. Charles bought the antique Edwardian setting and had it set with the rubies and diamonds.” She went on talking about rose gold, the quality of the stones, Lucy’s taste, and how pleased Charles would be.
And he went on sweating. Deep breaths. Chills and heat.
And there was no Lucy here to save him, to calm him, to make him not crazy.
Breathe. Pretend it’s not happening. Show it who’s boss.
Finally, he found his voice. “I had really thought a diamond ring. Not colored stones.” Surely, there was a ring like that in that stash.
Big Mama smiled brightly. “Then let’s go to the bank. Just let me get my key to the safe deposit box.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucy smoothed her green velvet tunic and found her assigned place in the parade lineup. Besides the three of them, Lanie had drafted ten others to give out the candy; they were to march at staggered intervals along the parade route and hand the lollipops directly to the children, one per child. They were also to skip and smile. If they could kick up their toes and ring the bells on their shoes, that would be even better.
Lanie had allowed Missy to make the rules and instruct the volunteers. Lanie had, however, denied her a bullhorn.
Lucy practiced a little skip step and put a bell ringing motion in it. Not bad. Now with the other foot.
Strong arms caught her from behind. “How about a little elven magic?”
And that warm caramel voice poured over her, melting her into nothing. And nothing would be what she’d be left with next year. She had given up trying to protect herself, had decided that Christmas was magic, and she was just going to let the magic happen. Determined to not let thoughts of next year ruin this year, she turned in his arms.
“What have you been up to today?” She hadn’t heard from him since early this morning, when he’d woken her with his tongue applied just so . . .
“Oh, this and that.” He whistled a little and turned his face up, pretending to study the night sky.
That probably meant he’d been shopping for a Christmas gift for her. In addition to the photo album she’d made for him, she had found a set of antique drafting tools. They would look neat hanging on the wall, if he ever settled down.
“This and that? You’ve been busy.” She toyed with a button on his shirt. “I might have expected this or that. Never both.”
He laughed. “See, here’s the trick. Schedule it in your DayRunner and it happens. I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Brantley!” Missy was barreling toward them with a clipboard in hand and the bell on her pointed elf hat ringing. “Let her go! It’s time for the parade to start. Get up there on that sidewalk!” And she ran past, no doubt, to lay down the law to the rest of the elves.