CHAPTER TWO

 

 

HIS MOM had vanished back into the kitchen. No “open concept” for her. The kitchen was a room where women worked. Marie Ballew had her ideas and was happy to share them. Devoutly religious, devoted wife, and fierce protector of her children, she thought of herself as a “traditional woman.” Yeah, a traditional woman set on world domination. Billy loved her, and she scared the shit out of him.

He pushed open the swinging door. Whoa. The smell of ham, chicken, potatoes, and who knew what else assailed him. His stomach growled. “Hey, ladies.” Sure enough, Teresa and Aunt Clarice bustled around his mom, who was dumping asparagus into a serving dish. He tried to smile. “Can I help?”

His mother wiped her forehead on her shoulder as the steam rose. Very tall and almost sixty, she’d been a raving beauty in her youth, with black hair that now grayed at the temples and expressive blue eyes. “No, dear. You can help clean up later.” She looked him up and down. “Billy, it’s your sister’s event. Couldn’t you have made a little effort?”

He shrugged. “I’ll dress up for the wedding.”

“You certainly will. I’ll not have you embarrassing this family in front of Rhonda’s new in-laws. I should think that Annie would be training you better.”

Silence. He stared at his faded, baggy jeans.

“Where is Annie?”

“Home, I guess.”

“What do you mean, home?”

“We broke up. She broke up with me.”

More silence. Even Teresa and Clarice didn’t move. Jesus.

But his mother didn’t yell. She just sighed, which was ten times worse. She shook her head and turned toward a dish of mashed potatoes. “I wish I knew what you wanted out of life, Billy. I just wish I knew.”

Shit, when he found out, he’d tell her second.

She handed him the potatoes and looked away. They weighed about five hundred pounds, buttered with guilt. He should have carried them on his back. Bumping the door with his shoulder, he lugged the dish and his cross into the dining room. Rhonda looked up and gave him a half smile. Yeah, she knew.

The swinging door opened, and Teresa came through carrying two dishes of steaming vegetables. She placed them carefully, stuck the potholders in her apron pocket, and walked over to Billy. Grasping his shoulders, she kissed his cheek even though she had to pull his head down to do it. Teresa looked more like their dad. She hadn’t gotten the height like he and Rhonda from their mother’s side. “Hey, baby, I’m so sorry. I know you really liked her.”

“Yeah.” He had liked Annie.

“Don’t let Mom beat you down. Annie just wasn’t the one.”

“Thanks, sis.” He loved Teresa so much. She’d always been closest to him even though they were farther apart in age. Rhonda was not quite two years older than him at twenty-seven, but Teresa was almost thirty-five and had been his second mom growing up. He shook his head. “But like Mom says, I wish I knew who was the one.”

She put a hand on his cheek and gazed up at him. He and Rhonda had gotten the blue eyes but Teresa’s were brown like his dad’s. She was great-looking, though nowhere near the beauty that Rhonda was. “I think you should look harder, little brother. Open your eyes wider. Stop listening to other people’s opinions.” She grinned. “Even mine.”

He snorted. “I’m so clueless, I don’t even know what you mean.”

“Don’t worry. Just think about it when you have a minute. What do you really want?”

“I want people to quit asking me that question.” He smiled so it didn’t seem like he was getting on her.

She laughed and smacked the cheek she’d been holding. “Smartass.”

“Now I get to spend all night watching Mom shoot me daggers.”

She grinned. “Not daggers. Long-suffering sighs.”

“Worse. Much worse.”

“It’s an art form I have yet to perfect, though I’m practicing on the kids.”

He lowered his voice. “Yeah, well, Rhonda seems good at it. She tries it out on Mitch quite a bit.”

Teresa glanced toward her sister, then looked back at Billy. “He doesn’t seem to mind. I think Mitch kind of likes a firm hand.”

Billy chuckled. “Naughty girl.”

The door to the kitchen burst open, and his mother emerged with a platter of ham already carved. Clarice followed with three roasted chickens surrounded by baked tomatoes and other vegetables.

Teresa patted his arm. “Mom’s feeding the multitudes again—with one crust of bread.” She walked over and took the platter from Clarice and placed it next to the ham on the table.

His dad and Austin followed their noses into the dining room while his mother started directing everyone where to sit. She ended with “Billy, you and Sissy sit over here.”

Him and Sissy? When in the hell did there become a “Billy and Sissy”? He knew the answer to that. When he showed up without Annie.

He held the chair for the beautiful blonde, which got an approving smirk from his mother and a big smile from the girl. His stomach clenched. He’d just leaped out of the damned frying pan and everyone wanted to push him into the fire. Could he just get up and leave? His eyes strayed to his mother’s face.

Okay, think about this. They just sat him next to a pretty girl who seemed to like him and he was bitching. He shivered, picked up the mashed potatoes, and offered them to Sissy.

She shook her head. “No thanks. Too many carbs.”

He glanced at her body that was way too skinny for the size of her boobs. “Doesn’t look like you ever ate a carb in your life.”

She giggled. “Thanks.”

Was that a compliment? “So, are you in the wedding?” He passed the ham, and she took a sliver. He loaded two slabs on his plate.

“Oh yeah. I’m a bridesmaid. I guess Rhonda and Mitch swapped. He got you and she got me.” She giggled. “So I think we’ll be walking down the aisle together.”

“Oh, got it.” He looked up and waited while his mom got settled.

She looked around the table. “Let’s bow our heads in prayer.”

Sissy glanced up, surprised, but then elaborately bowed her head.

His mother’s voice filled the space. “Thank you, Lord, for this bounty which we are about to receive and for the gift of family. May each of those present be blessed for their contributions to your fine world—and the children they bring to the next generation.”

Dear God, kill me now.

Teresa’s voice cut in. “And may we each find our own way in accordance with your divine plan.”

You could feel everyone holding their breath. Teresa had always had the most guts. Interestingly, she also got the most respect from their mother.

Billy stared at the tablecloth. Finally his mother said, “Thank you, Teresa. Will you pass the chicken?”

The collective sigh was audible.

Billy passed some more dishes and grabbed a few bites in between. He was hungry, but his mom’s usually great food tasted like sand.

His mother gave Sissy a look like she was weighing her for market. “So Sissy, what do you do for a living?”

She smiled and patted her lips. “I’m in fashion.”

“Oh really? How interesting. What do you do in fashion exactly?”

“I work for a stylist in LA. Alexander Longstory. He’s very famous. We pick out all the latest styles for movie stars and singers and people like that. We help choose their hairstyles, and, you know, their overall look. When you see them on the red carpets?” She waved her fork. “That was me. Or at least, I had something to do with it.”

Rhonda chimed in. “Sissy told me about my wedding stylist and helped me pick him.”

His mom raised an eyebrow. “Wedding stylist?”

Sissy beamed. “Oh yes, she chose Shaz—Chase Phillips! There’s nobody better. And he was the perfect choice because the man is a total diva and won’t leave Laguna Beach. He makes all his clients come to him, which they do gladly, believe me! But anyway, he’s more convenient for Rhonda than going to LA, and I was thrilled when he agreed to work with her.”

“And what does this man do for you, Rhonda?” His mother’s lips compressed. Even though Mitch and his family were paying for most of the wedding, his mother never approved of what she perceived as waste.

Rhonda’s eyes sparkled. “He’s incredible. He chose all the bridesmaids’ dresses and managed to pick something that doesn’t look like every old dress. You know, you saw them. He chose the tuxes for the groomsmen, and he’s doing all the color themes. Plus he’ll be doing the hair and makeup for the wedding. Not him personally, you understand, but his staff. You’ll all be seeing him very soon. He’s going to do a big consultation for the whole wedding party. He’s a total love. You’ll adore him.”

Billy frowned. “Not the guys.”

His mother glanced at him. “What?”

“I was saying to Rhonda, this diva of hers isn’t styling the guys, right?”

Rhonda smiled. “Oh yes. He’ll be doing everyone.”

“That seems kind of weird.”

Sissy grabbed his arm. “Oh no, you’ll love it. Like totally pampering, you know? You’ll hardly know yourself when he gets finished with you.”

That’s what he was afraid of. He looked up and caught his mother and Rhonda having a silent conversation with their significant looks. Shit. Never good.

He tried to talk to Sissy and he tried to eat, but he felt too hot and the room kept closing in tighter. At least the focus returned to Rhonda and Mitch. Everyone talked. He pretended to listen and kept shifting in his seat until his mother gave him a sharp glance.

As soon as it looked like people had finished, he jumped up and started clearing dishes. When he got one armload to the sink, his dad and Austin came in with more, so Billy rinsed and filled the dishwasher, then started on the pots and pans. Standing at the sink, he finally caught a breath.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He just wanted to go home. This day was crap and he was done with it.

By the time the last dish went in the machine, he’d finished the pots. He stared into the sink and the stainless steel winked back at him. Why the hell couldn’t he go home if he wanted to?

Carefully he wiped his hands, then marched out of the kitchen. Most of the people had moved into the living room, but his mom and Rhonda were huddled in the archway between the rooms, clearly plotting and probably against him.

Be bold. With a plastered-on smile, he marched up to the two women. “Hey guys, sorry to clean up and run. Uh, I have to be somewhere later, so I’ll say good night.”

His mother frowned. “Where do you have to be later? You just broke up with your girlfriend.”

Count to ten. “I need to get home. I’ve been working since 6:00 a.m. and came straight here after. Well, after I had coffee and ‘thanks but no thanks’ from Annie. I’m going.”

“If you lived at home instead of paying for that expensive apartment, you could afford to dress better.”

His eyes widened. What the fuck? She was really going to go there when he gave half of what he made to his parents? Well, damn. He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t. He just stared at her and saw the recognition in her eyes.

She looked away. “Besides, your sister and I want to talk to you. We have some thoughts.”

Rhonda smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Yeah, sweetie. We want to talk to you for a minute, then you can go home.”

His eyes met his sister’s. He’d been working since he was sixteen to help put her through college. No. He shook his head. “Sorry, I have to go now. Call me tomorrow.” He turned and started walking toward the door.

Rhonda called, “But Billy, wait—”

No, damn it. As he opened the front door, he heard his mother say, “He must be more upset about Annie than we realized.”