He turned toward her with a look of surprise, as if he were just returning from a faraway country and couldn’t believe she was there waiting for him. “If I invite Larry over for dinner here, will you come down and eat with us?”
“I’m not good company.”
“You don’t have to be good company. In fact, you don’t even have to make conversation. I’d just like for you to spend some time with the man who is going to be your brother-in-law.”
His long silence was bound to be no. She scratched her mosquito bite again, waiting.
When her brother finally shrugged and said, “Okay,” Emily felt as if she’d successfully led an expedition to the North Pole.
She left him heading toward the bathroom to shave, and went downstairs to call Larry. When she got to the telephone in the kitchen, she lost some of her resolve. Should she discuss the revised dinner plans with Beulah and Sis first? But what if Larry said no, and then she’d have to tell them he wasn’t coming?
“Emily?” Sis was suddenly standing in the doorway, holding the hand of a dirty little urchin after an enthusiastic excavation of the backyard.
“Good Lord, Sis, you startled me.”
“What’s up, Em? You look like a scared rabbit.”
“Mommy, what’s a scared rabbit?”
“Go wash your hands and face, Andy,” she told her son. “I’ll explain later.”
As he marched off, she told Sis about her plans to invite Larry over for dinner and how it might turn out to be a wonderful ploy to get their brother out of his bedroom.
“That’s great, Em!”
“I thought I could find something in the pantry to fix.”
“Good Lord, Emily. Beulah always cooks enough to feed an invasion of Martians. And don’t you worry about Sweet Mama.”
“Are the Martians coming?” Andy was back, standing in the doorway bouncing up on his toes in his excitement.
“No, the Martians are not coming.” Emily studied the level of dirt still on her son. “You forgot to wash behind your ears. I could build a frog house with that leftover dirt.”
“’K.”
As her son raced off once more and her sister puttered around the kitchen—washing her hands, pouring herself a glass of iced tea—Emily felt herself settle down. Apart from her family and Sweet Mama’s café, she sometimes felt a bit out of her element, as if she’d taken a wrong turn on the road and ended up in an unfamiliar place.
“Okay, then.” She smiled as Sis settled into a kitchen chair with her tea. “That settles everything.”
“It’s a good idea, Em. Larry needs to learn more about the family he’s marrying into.”
The way her sister’s eyes gleamed, it seemed to Emily the shoe was on the other foot: Sis was the one who wanted to find out about the man Emily would soon be calling her own. Still, as she picked up the kitchen phone and dialed Larry’s work number, she even felt a small sense of accomplishment.
When she said, “Hello, Larry,” and he called her darling, she saw her future unfold as a series of Hallmark cards, each scene a perfect depiction of a happy family.
Words spilled out of her so fast, she got tangled up and had to start over. By the time she’d finished telling him about the change of plans, she was flushed as if she’d been running.
There was a deep silence at the other end of the line.
“Larry? Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Oh, thank goodness. For a minute, I thought we’d been cut off.”
“No, I was thinking...how could you just change plans without even discussing it with me?”
“Well, of course I should have. I know that.” She bit her lip, feeling somehow inadequate and wondering what she’d done that was so wrong. “Still, my brother is just home from the war, and he’s feeling so alone right now, I thought it would be nice if you could come over and cheer him up.”
Why didn’t Larry say something?
“You know, a little man-to-man talk in a house full of women?” She waited, nervous, and still Larry said nothing. “Of course, there’s Andy, but I’m afraid his conversation runs to frog houses and rocket ships.”
Emily twisted the phone cord around her fingers, and a little pulse started pounding in her temple.
“Larry? Are you still there?” She put a hand to her forehead and silently counted to three. “Say something. Please.”
Sis set down her glass in that slow, deliberate manner she had when she was getting ready to wade into the middle of a situation gone bad. Even worse, she pushed back her chair. Emily frantically signaled her sister to sit back down.
When Larry finally decided to talk to her again, she was so flustered she nearly dropped the receiver.
“You said you’d make spaghetti and meatballs, Emily.” He was breathing hard, like somebody having a heart attack.
“Larry? Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. Just disappointed, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry, Larry.” She looked down at her engagement ring and twisted it on her finger. “I was just... I don’t know what I was doing.” She squinted at her ring. “I was just trying to be helpful, that’s all.”
Sis was scowling so hard it seemed to Emily the whole room had gone dark.
“I was looking forward to your spaghetti, Emily,” Larry told her.
“I promise you I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs the next time. And listen, Beulah is one of the best cooks on the Gulf Coast. I know you’re going to enjoy having dinner with my family.”
“I even told my boss I was eating spaghetti my fiancée made.”
“I’m sorry, Larry. I really, really am.”
She couldn’t even look at Sis. She knew what she’d see: a sister getting ready to explode.
Emily frantically searched for a way to salvage the situation. It was too late to fix spaghetti from scratch and still have dinner at her house at a decent hour. But she could pick up some spaghetti sauce on her way home and doctor it up so Larry wouldn’t be able to tell it from the real thing.
“Listen, Larry. Just forget I even mentioned dinner at Sweet Mama’s. I’ll hurry on home to cook and see you in a little while. Okay?”
His sigh was as dramatic as Andy’s when he’d been told he had to take a bath before going to bed.
“I forgive you, sweetheart. And I’ll come to Sweet Mama’s for dinner. But next time, discuss plans with me first, okay?”
“Of course. I will.”
Sis was out of her chair before Emily had even hung up the phone.
“That rat! What did he say to you?”
“He was disappointed about the spaghetti, Sis, that’s all.”
“Disappointed, my hind foot. It looks like he put you through the wringer.” Sis stomped over to the sink and dumped the rest of her iced tea so hard ice cubes bounced over the lip of the sink and rattled to the floor. “I’d like to slap some sense into him. And if he gives me half a chance, I will.”
“We have to all get along.”
“If he wants to get along with me, he’d better start treating my sister right.”
“He treats me just fine. Really, he does.”