Just Her Luck (21 page)

He shook his head at me and sipped his beer.

"You're somethin' else, Miss Genevieve. Did you know that?"

"So I've been told," I muttered wryly, putting my elbows up on the table to prop my chin on my hands.

"Uncle Ten! Uncle Ten!" Calvin shouted excitedly, bouncing towards us in a cute little black cowboy hat and black denim jeans.

He had a black and white checked button down shirt on to complement it.

"What's up, sport?" Ten laughed, catching Calvin as he hopped up into his lap.

"Did you see me dancin' out there? Huh? Did ya? Did ya?"

"I sure did," he said easily, grinning at his nephew, "You gonna save a dance for your mama? I think she'd like that."

"Aw, naw," he waved his hand backwards towards the dance floor, sounding completely exasperated, "She's too busy playin' kissy face with Mr. Perkins. You'd think she never sees him!"

He looked completely disgusted with the fact, and I found myself laughing at his antics.

My laugh caught his attention and he looked over at me.

"Genevieve!" he cried, leaping off Ten's lap.

He hopped up on mine and immediately started playing with a corkscrew curled lock of my dark hair.

He pulled and released the springing strands, repeating the action several times, entranced by the springiness of my curling-ironed hair, giggling as it boing-ed and bounced for him.

"You came to the wedding too?" he asked happily, swinging his legs back and forth over the side of my chair, sitting sideways in my lap.

"I sure did," I smiled at him, "Are you having fun?"

"I am now," he grinned, giggling at me. "Are you here with Uncle Ten?" he asked slyly, "Are you his...
girlfriend?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no." I shook my head vigorously, squashing any misunderstandings.

"Oh," he stopped suddenly and sighed sadly, smile dying immediately.

He peeked up at me through his puppy dog eyes and pulled at another piece of my hair.

I glanced over at Ten, and he mouthed 'sorry', a curious look on his face whenever he glanced over at his nephew.

Probably wondering what the little turkey is up to.

He's a sharp little thing.

"You don't have a boyfriend though... do you?" Calvin queried, glancing between Ten and me.

"Calvin. You don't ask a lady if she has a boyfriend. It's rude."

"It is?" he asked loudly, surprised, "but Mr. Perkins asked Mama. She said 'no' and he said he'd like to be. Isn't that how it’s done?"

I watched Ten back himself into a corner, grinning when he tried to figure out what to say to that, mouth opening and closing as he started and stopped several times.

"Yeah, Uncle Ten?" I called sweetly, "Why isn't it?"

"Okay, fine. It's not. Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Genevieve?" Ten demanded curtly, smirking at me.

"No, and I don't need one," was my quick rejoinder.

"Then you can dance with Uncle Ten!" Calvin crowed.

We both looked down at little Calvin, our faces full of 'whuh?".

"Oh, I don't think..."

"Miss Genevieve doesn't want..."

"I'm baaa-aaacccckkk!" Ruthie called, walking towards me with two large drink glasses in her hands.

"Saved by Ruthie," I muttered gratefully under my breath.

"And who is this little gentleman?" Ruthie cooed, setting a large, jumbo sized drink down in front of me.

"What is that?" I asked worriedly, eyeing the leaning tower of drink.

"It's a long island iced tea." She grinned, nudging me, taking a huge gulp of hers.

"Auntie, I don't think..."

"They're virgin, so drink up! Up! UP! Up!" she cheered, motioning for me to swig.

"I'm Calvin," Calvin introduced himself, holding his hand out to Ruthie.

I took a long sip of my drink, pleasantly surprised.

Yum
, I thought, taking a deeper sip.

It was delicious, but I could swear it had alcohol in it.

Ruthie would have made sure it didn't though, she's never condoned drinking.

"What's a virgin?" Calvin asked over all the noise, calling everyone's attention to him.

I choked on my mouthful of drink, trying not to snort it up and out of my nose as it forced its way down the wrong tube.

Ruthie grinned at my reaction, chuckling as she patted me on the back.

"Calvin, honey," a thin, redhead called as she hurried up to us, "Who's your new friend?"

A bulky blonde man lumbered up behind her, arm possessively wrapping around her slender waist when he came to a stop at our table.

"This is Genevieve, she's my girlfriend," Calvin told her proudly.

"I am, huh?" I chuckled, enjoying how his little mind works.

"Oh..." his mom said uncertainly, trying to smile at that, but obviously unsure how she felt about it.

I wonder if she knows she's so transparent.

Her very expressive face is an open book.

"Uh-huh. Uncle Ten didn't want her, so I'm gonna snatch her up. Just like Mr. Perkins said he snatched you up."

Calvin's mom laughed and smiled at him tenderly, glancing over at her big behemoth, Mr. Perkins.

She turned three shades of pink when he grinned and winked at her, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Yup, sure did," the man said with a thick accent, "Knew the moment I saw ya mama, I was gonna make her mine."

Calvin just giggled.

"You know you can call him Leonard, honey. You don't have to call him Mr. Perkins anymore," Calvin's mom urged, eyes ping pong-ing back and forth between me, Calvin and Ten.

"I keep forgettin'." Calvin sighed, pulling off his cowboy hat and scratching at his head.

I wanted to roll my eyes at the snap judgment I saw Calvin's mom had already made about me, about as apparent as a big purple elephant waltzing into the room, but I held back.

I like Calvin, wouldn't do to insult his mom.

Ten must have seen it too, quickly making introductions.

"Sis, this is Miss Genevieve Ferguson," Ten introduced us, "Miss Genevieve, this is Tara, my sister and Calvin's mama."

"Pleased to meet you." I smiled, holding out my hand.

Tara hesitated as she stared at me, taking in my loud leopard print dress, piercings, and stubborn tilt to my chin.

I said I was gonna be nice, never said I wouldn't let her know I knew what she was thinking.

Ten gave her a look, and she quickly scooped up my hand.

"Uh... nice to meet you too," she said quietly, bangle bracelets tinkling as we shook hands.

"This is Genevieve's Aunt Ruthie. Ruthie, this is Tara, my sister."

"So nice to meet you, dearie. Don't mind Vieve any. She's always like that," she said gaily, getting a grin out of me, waving her hand around airily.

"You
did
say I take after you," I quipped, relaxing a little when Tara laughed at our bantering.

"The cheek from that girl!" Ruthie huffed, waving at a passing waiter.

"May we join you?" Leonard, Mr. Perkins, asked.

"The more the merrier," Ten offered, scooting out a chair.

"But first we gotta dance!" Calvin crowed, hopping up to tug me towards the dance floor.

"Come on, Uncle Ten! It's the chicken dance!"

Ten was about to bugger off, but I grabbed his shirt sleeve and yanked.

"Yeah,
Uncle Ten
. Or are you too chicken to dance?"

He burst out laughing, unfolding his long legs from the little white chair.

"Pfft, I'm the best chicken dancer in three counties," he bragged, grey eyes dancing with laughter, "Let’s go show her how it's done, sport!"

"Hooray!" Calvin crowed, running for the dance floor.

Little Cal out chicken danced both of us, putting us to shame, and we let him know as much.

He had a proud grin on his sweet little face all night.

Just This Side Of The Miss Is Tipsy

"I think there's alcohol in these drinks," I hiccupped, blinking down into my empty glass.

It was just Ruthie and me at the table now, Ten-
or Tennessee Percy as he informed me-
Calvin, his mother and her boyfriend having just left a few minutes ago.

"That Tennessee is quite the catch," Ruthie chuckled, nudging me.

I stared at my aunt, watching her, waiting.

"What?" she asked, owl-eyed, "I'm widowed,
not dead."

"Ruthie," I said quietly.

"I mean really, Vieve, did you..."

"Ruthie!"

"Yes, dear heart?" she said nervously, hands wringing her napkin.

"I'm done. No more games. You gave me spiked drinks. You won't let me go in to your appointments. You're... you're... acting weird! Even for you!"

"I..."

"NO!" I stopped her, "I'm not done yet. When I am done talking, you will explain yourself or I'm going to walk out of here and leave you to fend for yourself. You're keeping something from me, I just know it, and you've been acting funny about it. I'm in friggin' knots over this, Ruthie! So, I will ask you one last time, what the
hell
is going on?"

She sighed, smiling at me wanly, knowing I meant business. "Let's go into the other room and we'll talk. Alright?"

I got up and followed her, going into one of the small conference rooms they had next to the banquet hall.

We both sat down at one of the tables, and I waited, making no bones about my irritation and anxiety over everything, dropping my walls to show her the real me, the vulnerability underneath.

I could sense she was going to stall again and I glowered at her.

Rarely did I get nasty with her, I mean truly get riled by her.

Hell,
I practically let the woman walk all over me sometimes, but I do whatever it is she wants anyways.

And sometimes... I even do it with a smile
, I thought, remembering some of our sillier outings.

Like the time she wanted to go to a strip club, but was afraid to go by herself.

My twenty one, at the time, year old self had no problem embarrassing the crap out of her, paying a stripper to give her a lap dance.

I don't think she ever forgave me for that one...

Good times,
I smiled inwardly
, good
times.

But enough of that! There's time to laugh at the memories later.

I have to get to the bottom of things.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like another drink first?" she asked hopefully.

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest, stiletto-ed foot swinging in agitated aggression, crossed over my dragon wrapped tattoo covered leg.

"Okay, okay! I'll start with the alcohol," she began, gripping my hand. "I know how you get, hun, and I thought... I thought the alcohol would help. Maybe help get you ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" I jackknifed up in my seat, "Ruthie... what's wrong?" I begged, gripping her hand back, cupping her clammy fingers in both of mine, my muddy green eyes large and pleading in my solemn, serious face, "I thought we could tell each other anything..."

"I'm dying, dear heart," she finally admitted, giving me a watery smile, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just..." she choked, "I just... I didn't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I whispered, voice barely audible as I sat there, stunned, my mind going blank, trying desperately to digest what she'd just told me.

Gasping, I let go of her hand when I realized I was squeezing it too hard.

"But... but I thought..."

"I did too, Vieve. I did too. But they found a tumor last year and..."

"Last year!" I spluttered, "A tumor? But you said it was heart surgery?!"

"Please, Vieve. I didn't tell you because I know how you worry so. They thought it was minor and I had it removed. It was a very simple procedure."

She didn't tell me...

A tumor!

Removed?

I asked the next thought in my mind.

"Cancer?"

"Skin cancer, but they thought they'd gotten it all and it was very minor, so I didn't tell anyone," she rushed to add.

Okay. I can deal with this. I can,
I kept chanting over and over in my head.

I wanted to know, right? And now I do.

"You had cancer... and you didn't tell me?
Me
?" I blurted, chest aching, heavy at both the thought of her going through that all alone and the hurt of her not telling me.

"I thought that would be the end of it." She looked away for a moment, lost in thought suddenly.