Authors: Rhonda Dennis
“Am I sure I want to do what?” she asks, her head still bobbing around inside the door.
“Get married here. Have a small wedding. Minimal fuss.”
She knocks the door closed with her hip and sets the bottles that are laced between her fingers onto the kitchen cabinet. She’s looking me dead in the eye when she says, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“It’s just… I’ve seen the wedding folder, and Lizzy, this isn’t it. In fact, it’s the opposite of the wedding folder.”
“I know,” she says with a smile. “That folder is full of things I thought I wanted, but now I know they’re not that important. I’m getting married to the man, who I feel with all my heart, is my soul mate. This marriage is for me and Ben. It’s not so we can entertain three hundred guests. He loves me, and I love him, and we want to be together forever. The only people who need to witness that are the ones who are closest to us. The ones who will truly support us, to guide us, and to be there for us.”
“Lizzy,” I start softly. “What happened to you?”
She laughs heartily. “I grew the hell up! That’s what happened.”
“Are you sure you’re happy, and that this is truly what you want?”
“Do you have any reason to doubt it?”
After pondering the question, I shake my head. “I’m happy for you, and I wish you the best.”
Lizzy snatches me in for a bear hug, and I try fighting her off. She just hugs me tighter. “You have to stop this nonsense. Humans crave touch. There’s nothing wrong with a hug, or a kiss, or anything else.” She starts planting kiss after kiss all over me while making “muah” sounds. If she weren’t so much taller than me, I’d have wriggled away faster, but her darned long arms and legs wrap around me like an octopus, and I find myself stuck.
“Cut… it…. out…,” I manage to say in between her barrage of kisses. It’s not until the guys join us inside that she finally stops. Both of us share the same deer in headlights look, while the men simply look confused. Lizzy unfurls herself from around me, and I start wiping away at my face.
“Do you want to know?” Ben asks Fletcher.
“I’m not sure. Aren’t you curious?” Fletcher asks Ben.
Lizzy snatches the bottles off the counter and starts handing them out. “Oh, hush! We were just playing around. I was trying to get Savannah to loosen up some.”
“You women get away with some weird stuff, you know that?” Ben asks.
“What do you mean?” Lizzy inquires.
“Imagine two guys playing around like that. Awkward…”
“Are you jealous that you don’t get to play around with your guy friends like that?” she teases.
“No, I’ll leave that to you girls, babe. Fletch and I, we don’t have to go to those extremes. Check it.” He moves closer towards Fletcher, points his chin upward, and mumbles, “Sup? You good, bro?”
Fletcher mimics his gesture, and mumbles, “Yeah, man. All good here.”
Lizzy plants her hands on her hips. “How in the hell does that cheer him up?”
Ben looks her way. “Oh, if I want to cheer him up I fart, or if I can’t bust one out, I just tell a fart joke. Watch.” He cocks his leg to the side and a rumble roars from his pants. Lizzy looks mortified, Fletcher is busting a gut, and I find myself amused, as well. It’s so cliché, but damn it, it’s funny watching Lizzy fan her face once the aroma wafts her way. I give myself permission to belly laugh, and I feel more of my sadness drift away. I could possibly get used to this new sensation—maybe happiness isn’t such a bad thing. Well, at least until it’s ripped away from you. I fight thoughts like these for most of the night, but ultimately, it turns out to be one of the best days of my life.
Thank you so much for helping me to see the light, Grampy.
It’s another quiet, lonely Saturday afternoon, and I’m halfway through a TV movie when the phone rings.
“Are you busy?” Fletcher asks.
“Not really. Why do you ask?”
“We never had that dinner and movie date that we scheduled.”
“I guess we haven’t. So?”
“So, I want to take you out tonight.”
From habit more than lack of desire, I start making excuses, but Fletcher stops me. “I’m going to pick you up at five. Dress casual.” He ends the call before I can argue. Unsure of how I just let that happen, I glance at the clock to check the time. It’s four, so I jump from the sofa and into the shower. I’ve become less self-conscious about the scars on my legs since Fletcher pointed out that they really aren’t that noticeable. I’d worn shorts several times since to places like the grocery store or to run errands, and never even received as much as a sideways glance. I wonder if the scars appear more pronounced to me because I know their history, or if people just truly don’t care about them. Either way, it feels good to wear shorts and skirts again, especially in the heat of summer. So, after I dress in my usual wardrobe of shorts, t-shirt, and sneakers, I sit and wait for Fletcher to arrive. He’s right on time.
“Are you nervous about this evening?” he asks when I crack the apartment door.
“No, not at all. I’m… Yes,” I admit.
He pulls a bouquet of multi-colored daisies from behind his back. “Does this make you less nervous?”
I smile. “Maybe a little.”
He reaches to his right and pulls Molly into my field of vision. “I brought a chaperone. Does this make you less nervous?” Molly is nothing but a big toothy smile as her uncle pats her lightly on the head. I can’t help but laugh.
“Chaperone, huh? You up for that, Molly?” I ask, opening the door all of the way.
“Yep! Uncle Fletcher said that if I don’t mess this one up, there’s an extra twenty in it for me,” she says with a giggle.
Fletcher feigns disgust, “You just ruined it! Kiss that twenty bucks goodbye, missy.” Molly is giggling so hard that she can barely catch her breath. Fletcher shakes his head and points in her direction. “I told her to say that. That’s why she’s giggling so much.” He pulls a bill free from the stack in his pocket. “Here’s a ten. Don’t mess anything else up tonight, and I’ll slip you the other ten.”
“Okay, Uncle Fletcher,” she says, still giggling.
“Y’all come in while I put these in water,” I say, taking the bouquet from Fletcher. Molly looks around the apartment, and she stops in front of Lucas’ picture.
“Oh, what a cute baby! What’s his name?”
I’m not sure if it’s because the question came from someone so young, or if I was finally making breakthroughs in dealing with his loss, but that stabbing knife sensation that normally cripples me when he’s brought up didn’t happen this time. Instead, it’s almost a peaceful sensation that flows through my body. Though his life was short, he’s still important, and by letting others know about how special he is to me serves to preserve his memory. Keeping him out of sight and out of mind helps me to ignore the pain, but it in no way provides any justice to Lucas’ memory.
Fletcher turns to look where Molly is looking, and I can tell he’s about to say something, but I raise my hand to stop him.
“His name is Lucas. He died when he was a year and a half old. He was my little boy.”
“Oh! How sad. What happened?” Molly asks. Again, I stop Fletcher before he stops Molly’s questions.
“A very bad man gave him some illegal drugs.”
“Is that man in jail?”
“Yes, he’ll be in prison for a very long time.”
In an act that leaves me absolutely startled, Molly encircles her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly. “I’m so sorry that your baby died, Miss Savannah.”
Stunned, I slowly allow my arms to fall around her, and I gently hug her back. Her hair smells like fresh strawberries, and is soft as silk.
Is this what it’s like to have a little girl?
I tighten the embrace.
“Thank you, Molly.” Gently kissing the top of her head, I finally release her from the embrace. “So, where are we going tonight?”
“Uncle Fletcher says that I get to pick the movie and you get to pick where we eat. That’s the deal we came up with, anyway.”
“You two seem to have some pretty interesting conversations,” I comment.
“Oh, we do,” Molly says, sounding way older than her twelve years.
“What movie are we seeing?” I ask.
“
Buzz Saw Massacre
!” Molly says, excitedly.
“No,” Fletcher says.
“
College Dorm Party III
?”
“Nope. Try again.”
Molly huffs a sigh. “You know, I’m not a little kid anymore, Uncle Fletcher. I’m practically a teenager.”
“Practically, and actually being a teenager are two different things. Plus, even if you were of age, I wouldn’t be the person you’d watch those movies with.”
“Well, since Uncle Fletcher has fallen a gigantic notch in my cool people rankings, I guess we’ll have to see
Secret Princess
.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ve wanted to see that movie for a while, but I didn’t have anyone to go with,” I comment.
“Really?”
“Yep, I’m really glad you picked that one.” I move closer to whisper in her ear, “Plus, imagine how funny Uncle Fletcher is going to look watching a princess movie with a bunch of girls.”
Molly laughs while nodding emphatically, and Fletcher sends me a questioning look. I simply shrug my shoulders and move towards the door. “Ready to go?” I ask.
“Sure, but I’m not really liking the fact that I’m outnumbered here,” Fletcher jokes.
“Oh, you’ll get over it. How about we get pizza for dinner?” I ask.
“Pizza! Yay! My favorite!” Molly sings.
“Then pizza it is,” Fletcher says, shutting the door behind us. “I want to know what you two were whispering about later,” he softly mentions as we walk down the hallway together.
“No way. It’s a girl thing,” I say, picking up my pace to match Molly’s. Fletcher’s laughter resonates from behind us.
I smile more on this day than I probably have in my entire lifetime. We laugh through dinner, we’re amused by the movie, and we spend the ride home discussing our next possible adventure. I don’t want it to end, so when Fletcher asks if I’d prefer to be dropped off first or if I’d like to ride with him to Julia’s to bring Molly home, I opt to go with him to Julia’s. Big mistake.
There are huge smiles on our faces when we arrive at the quaint brick house with a neatly manicured yard. The smiles instantly dissolve when a scowling Julia opens the front door. “You’re later than you said you’d be,” she fusses, opening the door wide enough for us to pass through.
“We had such a good time, Momma! Uncle Fletcher and Miss Savannah took me to eat pizza, and we saw
Secret Princess
, and then we played games at the arcade. That’s why we’re a little late. I kept winning!! Uncle Fletcher said I had to stop though, because we had to get home. I really wish I could have stayed longer. Look at all of the stuff I got!” She holds her bag of candy and trinkets high in the air as if she’s showcasing the world’s finest jewels.
“That’s nice, Molly. Go get ready for bed,” Julia says in monotone. Fletcher remains stone-faced, while I feel incredibly awkward and out of place.
“Can Uncle Fletcher tuck me in? Please, Momma? Please?”
Julia sighs heavily. “I suppose, Molly. Go on, now.”
“I’ll be right back,” Fletcher says with an uncomfortable smile. I nod, unsure of what to do.
Should I sit in the truck? Just stand here and wait for him?
“You want some coffee?” Julia asks. It is a general statement thrown out in the air, so I’m unsure if she is speaking to me. When I realize she is, I accept.
“Only, if it’s no trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. Follow me.”
We walk down a hallway filled with photographs, some the same as the ones Fletcher displays at his place. Julia jostles a few things around, and once the coffee is brewing, she offers me a seat at the kitchen table. I accept it, and nervously begin twiddling my thumbs.
“I know I come off as cold,” Julia starts. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about, and Fletcher and I… well, let’s just say that our relationship as siblings is pretty tense right now.”
“Okay,” I mutter, unsure of what my response should be.
“Does he talk to you about Brody?”
“He told me they were friends from childhood, and that you eventually married him. He’s Molly’s dad, and unfortunately he passed away.”
Julia nods. “Does Fletcher tell you anything about himself? About his time in the army?”
“I know he has scars all over his back because he was in a vehicle that caught on fire due to an explosion.”
“Figures you’d know that part.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A big handsome guy like Fletcher. A pretty woman like you looking to score. It’s not rocket science.”
I put a warning finger in her face. “Look, you don’t know me. You know nothing about me. If you want to jump to conclusions about things that, if I’m being honest, don’t even involve you, then you do it on your own time. I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not about to sit here and let you imply that I’m loose, a floozy, or anything of the sort. Fletcher has been nothing but a gentleman since the day I met him, and he’s so good with your daughter. You should be grateful instead of fussing or scowling at him all of the time.”
“There are things about him that you don’t know.”
“And likewise for me. There are things about me, about my past, that he doesn’t know yet. I’m no angel, but I’m not a bad person. Fletcher has done nothing to make me believe that he is anything but an honorable man, and believe me, I speak from experience when I say I know the difference.”
“Brody was driving when the bomb detonated. It killed him instantly.”
“What?”
“He and Brody enlisted together. They deployed together. They went on that patrol together.”
“Is that why you’re so mean to him? Do you blame Fletcher for Brody’s death?”
“No!” Julia snaps. “Never.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Listen. It’s too long of a story to get into, plus, it’s technically Fletcher’s story to tell. Just promise me that if you truly care for him that you’ll be kind to him. Also promise that you’ll let me know right away if you start to notice him acting strangely. Please, promise me.”
Though I’m a little freaked out, I nod. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship, Julia. Not anytime soon anyway, so you can relax.”
“I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.” She rubs her face with her palms. “I worry too much. I worry about Fletcher. I worry about Molly…”
“I can understand that, but I’m not a bad person with an agenda. I promise.”
Julia releases a pent up breath. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Cream and sugar, if you have it.”
“Milk okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” She stands near the sink getting our mugs ready, and I see her in a different light. She’s not a snooty, bitter hag; she’s a tired, worried woman with a lot on her mind. I should have picked up on that sooner, but regardless, it’s a fresh start now. She places the mug in front of me, and I carefully draw a sip from the brim.
“I know about Fletcher’s scars because he showed them to me so I’d be less self-conscious about mine. My legs are full of them from a childhood accident, so I refused to wear shorts in public. He came to check on me after my grandfather died, and I was wearing them. I wanted to keep them covered, but... Anyway, I appreciate that he did that for me.”
Julia nods. “Fletcher’s a great man, and I wasn’t trying to scare you off. I often say things without thinking them through. Your grandfather, he died recently? I’m sorry for your loss.”
I nod. “Yeah, he was old and very sick, so it wasn’t a shock, but he was my closest family member. Fletcher helped me a lot. He stayed with me at the facility and remained with me until he knew I was okay.”
“Sounds like Fletcher,” she says with a smile.
“What’s going on in here? I heard my name,” Fletcher cautiously inquires.
“Nothing. Just drinking some coffee. You want some?” Julia asks.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“And I’m finished with mine. Thank you, Julia. It was great.” I rise from my seat and place the mug in the kitchen sink.
Julia leaves hers on the table so she can walk us to the door. “You’re welcome, Savannah. Fletcher, thank you for taking Molly tonight. She loves spending time with you.”
“Anytime, Julia. I’m here for her, and you, anytime.”
Julia gives a half smile as she gently closes the door behind us. “What happened in there?” Fletcher asks once we’re in his truck. “Did you put holy water in her coffee?”