Scrapping Plans Page 3

  Kendra’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not that I don’t want to, T. It’s that I don’t know how. Short of telling Zelda we don’t want her to get serious with Daddy—which we know won’t work—or telling Daddy none of us are ready for this—which isn’t really fair to him—I don’t know of a way to make sure they don’t fall in love.”

  Tandy’s heart stopped. “You think he loves her?”

  “If he’s been letting her sit in Momma’s seat for a month, yeah, I’d say he loves her.”

  Tandy dropped onto a stool, defeat falling on her like a storm cloud. “How did we miss that?”

  “You just got married.” Kendra shrugged. “You’re busy starting your own home. And my whole world is bridesmaids’ dresses and boutonnieres right now.”

  “But I shouldn’t be losing touch with my old home just because I’m starting my new one.”

  “Isn’t that the ‘leave and cleave’ part of marriage?”

  Tandy bit her tongue and turned her gaze to the layout now spilled out all over her side of the table. A sharp retort would help, but Kendra had a point there. Her marriage to Clay should be her priority, and it had been ever since their wedding. But letting herself focus on Clay to the detriment of Daddy? Was that really what marriage was supposed to be?

  Clay would tell her Zelda wasn’t a detriment to anything good in the world. And he might be right. Keeping Momma’s memory alive, though, meant a lot. And how could they do that with Zelda in Momma’s kitchen cooking breakfast and in her laundry room doing the wash and in her living room rocking in Momma’s rocker? They wouldn’t even be able to talk about Momma in the house, probably, because it would make Zelda uncomfortable!

  Tandy picked up a photo and began organizing the mess before her. “Look, Ken, if you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. But I’m not going to stand by silently while Daddy gets rid of all trace of Momma from this house and our lives because he’s found someone new to love.”

  “You think he’d do that?”

  “I don’t think he’d mean to, but I can’t see anything else being fair to Zelda. She’s not going to live forever in a house that reminds her of her husband’s first wife. I wouldn’t expect her to. Would you?”

  “I guess not.” Kendra slid a blade across a photo, cutting off the extra part of it. “But, T, are we absolutely certain that the blue hairs are right? That Daddy’s thinking of popping the question?”

  “No, I’m never sure of anything those women say.”

  “Well, I think we need to know if there’s a situation to deal with before we take steps to address it, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Tandy stood up. “Let’s go see.”

  Kendra hurried to follow Tandy down the stairs. “See what?”

  “See if Daddy’s thinking about marrying Zelda.”

  “What are we going to do? Ask him?”

  “No.” Tandy turned and marched into her parents’ bedroom. “We’re going to ask his stuff.”

  “Oh, Tandy, you can’t be serious. We’re going through Daddy’s things? That’s a huge invasion of his privacy!”

  Tandy spun on her heel and stared Kendra down. “Remember when we came home from school and Daddy and Momma were sitting on your bed with your journal in their hands?”

  Kendra nodded. “Yeah, they found out I’d been sneaking out with Tyrel Parks, and I got grounded for three months from everything but church.”

  “And what did they say when you yelled at them for invading your privacy by reading your journal?”

  “They said they were doing what had to be done to make sure I was taken care of, safe, and making wise judgments.”

  “Yep.” Tandy walked over and yanked open the top drawer of an old mahogany chest that had sat in this same spot for thirty years. “And that’s precisely what we’re doing. If we’re right and Daddy’s in love with Zelda,” she riffled through the folded white undershirts, “then he’s not in the right frame of mind to be making wise judgments. We’re just making sure he’s taken care of.”

  Kendra hesitated for a second longer. With a shake of her spiral curls, she huffed and strode over to the chest’s matching dresser. “I’m not sure I buy your logic, sister, but I’ve never deserted you before and I’m not about to now.”

  “Thanks, Ken.” Tandy slammed the drawer shut and moved quickly to the one below it.

  “Thank me when we’re done and out of here without Daddy being any the wiser.”

  Tandy shut her mouth and searched as fast as her fingers could fly.

  Five

  The rose bushes in my back garden look dead. Every plant out there does. Leafless trees and brown grass. No color at all. I should have put evergreens or pansies within view of this window. Instead I’m left with death staring toward my bedroom. A death created by my own hands.

  I’ve never loved anyone as deeply as I love Scott Lasky. Is it possible to hate someone even while you love them? Because I hate him now. I love him, of course. I’ll always love him. But I hate him too. I hate how stubborn he is. I hate how sure he is. I hate how unsure he is. I hate how silent he is. I hate how scared he is.

  I hate that most.

  I know he’s scared. Does he think I don’t know? That I could have lived with him for years, made his meals, ordered his house, shared his bed, and not know when he’s scared?

  I just can’t decide if he is more scared that the problem is me or that it’s him. If I’m the one keeping us from getting pregnant, then he might not be able to love me. I can be honest about that. Scott’s accustomed to getting what he wants. He’s always believed that if he works hard enough and follows the appropriate steps, he can attain the goal he has set.

  We share that vision.

  Pregnancy isn’t falling into line, though. It relies on body parts outside of our control. And even a certain amount of magic, I think. Or miracle.

  Yes, miracle.

  Miracles don’t come from hard work. They come from prayer and from the will of a God with whom we’re not allowed to reason. A God whose character or motivation I cannot fully grasp. I thought God wanted us all to be happy. But if that’s the case, we would be pregnant by now.

  Meg said our life’s purpose isn’t to be happy; it’s to bring glory to God.

  Didn’t God tell us to be fruitful and multiply? How can I be faithful to His command, glorify Him in my obedience, if He’s given me a womb that doesn’t work?

  Then again, the problem could be Scott. I don’t know if he’d survive that knowledge. If he could comprehend being unable to do what he wants. If he’s the problem, I’ll bet he finds a solution. Scott wouldn’t rest until he’d found a way to overcome whatever issue life presented.

  I love that about him.

  * * *

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE this, Tandy.” Kendra unwound her purple, red, yellow, and orange striped scarf, tossing it atop the desk on which she sat. She clicked the switch on a leopard print lamp at her side. The feathered finish around the edges left no question as to whose desk this was, sitting proudly in all its eclectic glory in the Sisters, Ink office.

  “Me, either.” Tandy wore a shell-shocked expression— eyes glazed over, fixed on nothing in particular, but fixed nonetheless. Her own brass lamp with green hood and short gold pull cord testified to previous days spent slaving over briefs in an Orlando law office.

  Kendra leaned forward and snapped her fingers. “Hey, Earth to sister. Come in, sister.”

  Tandy blinked and turned her head. “I just can’t believe this.”

  Kendra wrinkled her forehead. “Weren’t you the one telling me ‘Daddy’s in love with her’ and all that jazz? Why are you so surprised?”

  “I guess I hoped I was wrong.” Tandy leaned back in her desk chair and steepled her fingers, looking for all the world like the attorney she had once been. “You know? Saying it out loud sounded so ridiculous that it just had to be wrong.”

  “Well, news flash. That box means he’s not only planning to pop the question, he�
��s not scrimping on the diamond. And he went to Lindell Jewelers. They’re in Brentwood. That’s where Darin designed my ring. And their diamonds don’t come with a small price tag or an everyday setting.”

  “So he’s been planning this for a while.”

  “If he went to Lindell, I’m betting he’s done what Darin did and designed the ring himself. So yeah, he’s been planning this a while.”

  “How did we miss this?”

  Kendra slapped her hands on her jean-clad thighs. “Beats me. Who cares? What’s done is done. He’s in love. He’s bought a ring, and he may even have plans to give it soon. If we’re stopping this train, it’s time to throw ourselves on the tracks.”

  Tandy stood and headed toward the back.

  “Where are you going?” Kendra hopped down from the desk and trailed after her sister. “We’re having a conversation here!”

  “I know, but my hands need to move so I can think. I did my best strategizing in Orlando in the files room.”

  “Bet the paralegals loved you.”

  Tandy gave a wry smile and entered their storage room. Boxes of products bearing the Sisters, Ink logo nearly filled the room. T-shirts, pens, scrapbooking tools and embellishments, club identification cards, and the usual office supplies of stationery and envelopes crammed every shelf. Tandy attacked the jumble in front of her, pulling rubber bands from pens and staples. Kendra chewed a fingernail while Tandy quickly created a rubber-band ball.

  “This can’t happen, Ken. Daddy can’t get married.”

  “Agreed. Now what do we do to keep that ring off Zelda’s finger?”

  Tandy snapped a rubber band. “We’ve got to get ruthless.”

  “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I thought you were only in this to support me.”

  “Let’s just say the sight of a jeweler’s receipt in Daddy’s nightstand drawer was enough to bring home the reality.”

  Tandy nodded. “Okay then. If we can’t find something in Zelda’s past to make Daddy break up with her, then we’ll just have to find something in Daddy’s to make Zelda break up with him.”

  “What in the world does Daddy have in his past that anybody would care about?”

  “Nothing that we know of. But we also didn’t know he’d bought a ring. Maybe there are other things we don’t know.”

  Kendra shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s going to work. Daddy’s been a straight arrow ever since we’ve known him. Short of killing somebody in his teenage years, we’re not going to find anything bad enough to make Zelda walk away. Besides, like you said before, they’ve probably already talked through their pasts.”

  “So we go with your plan.”

  “What plan?”

  “We’ll stop being nice.”

  “You mean the plan you hated?”

  “I hated it in its first stage. We’re going to escalate to a stage that works.”

  “Based on your reaction the first time we talked about this, I’m betting that’s about stage twenty.”

  “Exactly. Not only will we stop being nice, we’re going to be downright rude.”

  “Meg will never go for this.”

  “She doesn’t have to. Two of us being rude to Zelda will probably be enough.”

  “Maybe, but it’d be more effective if all four of us sent the message.”

  “Then we’ll do whatever it takes to convince Meg and Joy that the right thing here is to be rude.”

  “Good luck with that. I’m pretty sure Joy equates rude with the seven deadly sins.”

  “And we wouldn’t want Joy to go against her principles.”

  Tandy and Kendra spun around at the new voice.

  “Zelda!” Tandy dropped her rubber-band ball. It bounced lightly, then rolled across the commercial carpet to stop at Zelda’s boots.

  “Hello, girls.” Zelda retrieved the ball, then straightened.

  “H–how are you? We didn’t hear you come in.” Kendra pushed her hair behind her ears.

  “I guess not. Though I’ll say your rude campaign is off to a great start.”

  “Oh, we didn’t—”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Tandy put her hands on her hips. “Was there something you needed or do you always go around butting into people’s private conversations?”

  Zelda smiled while the feeble storage room light glinted off her red spiky hair. “Yes, I’d say you would have done well at this campaign.”

  Tandy raised an eyebrow. “Would have?”

  Zelda shook her head and her big silver jewelry clanked. “You can call it off.”

  “I don’t think so.” Tandy took a step toward Zelda and pointed. “So long as you’re around, you should know there’s no more nice daughter for you. Daddy’s having a friend to hang out with is fine. Shoot, even grocery shopping together is fine. But we have a mother, and we certainly don’t need some red-haired marine widow walking in here and trying to take Momma’s place just because she’s gone home to heaven.”

  Zelda’s face hardened, and Kendra saw the strength of a military wife shine through. “The very fact that you’d think I’d try,” her voice could have cut glass, “is enough for me to know this won’t work. I told Jack we should keep things casual. That you girls weren’t ready for anything else. But from the sound of things, he didn’t listen.”

  Tandy sneered. “Oh, sure. Getting married is all Daddy’s idea. You haven’t thought a bit about living in our house or enjoying your status as the preacher’s wife, right? Don’t try to sell me that line. You’ve been sitting in Momma’s seat for a month now. And that’s another thing that’s about to change. Don’t even think about trying it this Sunday. We’re on to you. We’ll put up with your presence in Daddy’s life. But your little plan for marriage is over right now. Got it?”

  Zelda stared at Tandy, tension tightening the distance between them. Kendra’s gaze darted back and forth.

  A brawl at the Sisters, Ink office wouldn’t go unnoticed by townsfolk.

  “Look, ladies—”

  “No, Kendra.” Zelda held up a small hand, exhaustion lowering her tone. “Don’t bother. I care a lot about your daddy. Enough to know that being with me isn’t worth hurting his relationship with his daughters.” She moved to go, then turned back and tossed the rubber-band ball. Tandy caught it in reflex. “I’ll be gone by tomorrow, Tandy. Tell your daddy whatever you want about why.”

  “Wait, Zelda.” Kendra stepped forward. “Where are you going?”

  Her smile held sadness and the remembrance of familiar heartache. “Somewhere quiet, Kendra. Somewhere my presence doesn’t cause so much pain.”

  The thud of her boots receded, punctuating Kendra’s racing thoughts. Had they done the right thing? Would Daddy be mad? Well, of course he’d be mad. But how long would it take for him to see they’d done this because they were looking out for him?

  Kendra thought back to Tyrel Parks. She didn’t get over that for a month. And that had been a high school crush two weeks in the making. Daddy and Zelda had been together for almost a year now. She’d been at Tandy’s wedding.

  Shoot, she’s on the guest list for my wedding.

  Kendra turned to find that same shell-shocked expression on Tandy’s face.

  “Should we go after her?” Kendra’s whisper barely covered the space between them.

  Tandy shook her head. “I don’t think so. Just be grateful she’s gone and things can get back to normal.”

  Normal? What did that mean?

  One look at her sister’s face convinced Kendra it was better not to ask.

  Six

  Meg popped an aspirin and washed it down with a swig from the bottled water in her cupholder. If I spent more time drinking water, I wouldn’t get dehydration headaches. She checked her face in the rearview mirror, decided there wasn’t much to be done about it, and stepped out of the van.

  Joy’s cobblestone driveway looked as it always had— immaculate and historical. Meg�
��s loafers slid a bit on the moss lightly coating the bricks.

  Moss? When had that been allowed to take root?

  No matter. Whatever had invaded Joy’s life to cause these lapses in memory or character, Meg would talk to Joy about them and, together, they’d fix whatever was wrong. Nothing on earth couldn’t be defeated by the power of Sinclair sisterhood. Through all kinds of craziness, the sisterhood hung together. They held each other up when life’s waves pounded mercilessly. They threw punches when one went down. They spoke when one lost her words. They prayed when one lost her faith. Hadn’t they held true to that promise for nearly three decades now?

  Meg reached the top of the stairway and squared her shoulders to Joy’s massive wooden door. No matter what lay on the other side, they’d face it. Together.

  The wind kicked up, and Meg shivered as dead leaves rustled.

  Dead leaves?

  She turned to see brown leaves bunched up in the corners of the flower beds on either side of the stairs. Moss and dead leaves. Meg took a deep breath and pushed the doorbell like a warrior sounding a battle cry.

  A light rain began falling, and Meg huddled closer to the door. Why didn’t someone answer? She pushed the doorbell again, hearing its muffled signal on the other side of the wood. Joy had to be home. When Meg dropped by the salon, the receptionist informed her that Joy had taken a sick day.

  A sick day. Moss. Dead leaves. Meg rubbed her temple and prayed for relief from the incessant throbbing. She needed to think. What could have rocked Joy’s world so hard that she’d skip work and let the grounds go?

  Finally the door opened a crack. Meg tried not to gasp at the sight of Joy but failed.

  “Hi, Meg.” Joy’s beautiful blue eyes were glued to the floor. Faint purple moons hung below her black lashes.

  “Hey, Joy.” Meg stepped into the house, pushing fear to the back of her mind. A pall hung in the air, as if someone were sick or dying. “I stopped by Styles, and they said you’d called in sick. Everything okay?”

  Joy lifted a tiny shoulder and looked at the corner of the room. “Sure.”