Bluegrass Dawn: Bluegrass Single #2 (Bluegrass Singles) (8 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Marcy woke up with a start. It was Christmas! She pried Jake’s hand from her bare breast and rolled quietly out of bed. She slipped on her robe and hurried downstairs to start breakfast and Jake’s coffee. By the time the bacon was done frying, Jake was already in his robe and coming down the stairs.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Jake said as he planted a lingering kiss on her lips. His hands slipped into her robe and Marcy sighed with pleasure. If she could start the morning like this everyday, then she’d be a happy woman.

“Merry Christmas. Breakfast is ready. I can’t wait for you to open my gift!” Marcy said excitedly. She’d thought about it for months and saved up for it. It was the perfect gift.

“Me, too,” Jake said as he bit into a piece of bacon.

“Okay, breakfast can wait!” Marcy laughed as she dragged Jake out of the chair and into the living room. They had a small tree set up in the corner with some of the Davies family bulbs on it. Underneath it were presents from the Rose sisters, Betsy and William, the one from Jake, and the ones Marcy had gotten for him.

They opened the gifts from their friends first and laughed as Lily sent them baby booties, Daisy sent them a baby blanket, and Violet sent them a baby bonnet. “I think they may be trying to tell us something.”

“Too bad they have to wait for us to use them,” Jake shook his head as he laughed. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”

“Me neither. In three years, well, that’s another story. I’ll probably be sick of you by then,” Marcy joked.

Jake leaned over from where they sat on the floor and kissed her deeply. “Are you sure about that?”

“Keep that up and I’ll never want to share you. Here, open the gift from William and Betsy.”

Jake ripped into it and Marcy gasped. It was an oil painting of their farm. It showed green rolling hills dotted with cows and a white farmhouse with two people holding hands as they stood on the porch looking out at the land.

“It’s beautiful,” Marcy said softly as she ran her hand over it. “I had wondered why Betsy would sit in her car in front of our house for so long when she came to visit.”

She would have to thank her friend for such a heartfelt gift. It would hang in their house forever. Marcy stood and walked over to the living room wall. She took down a decorative mirror and hung up the painting, smiling as she looked at it.

“Now it’s time for your gift!” Marcy said as she turned around. She pulled out the big box and pushed it to him.

Jake tore into the paper. “A record player! Oh, this is great, Marcy. You know how much I love music. Thank you so much.”

Marcy couldn’t stop grinning. “And don’t forget this.” She handed him a big square box. She couldn’t contain her excitement. She knew he’d love it.

He opened the box and stared at the records. “Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Merle Haggard. Wow,” he said in awe. “Dolly Parton?”

Marcy shrugged her shoulders. “That one is for me. Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it! I can’t believe you got all my favorite records. How did you afford a record player?”

“I worked at the café at night to save up money while you were gone. I knew how much you liked music and thought you could take it out to the barn while you worked and that we could dance in the living room at night.”

Jake leapt up and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I love it. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Here, open mine.”

Jake handed Marcy the heavy rectangular box. Marcy smiled giddily at him and slid her finger under the tape and slowly unwrapped it. He knew she would love it. Every couple of days since he got back, he’d heard her complaining about her old one.

“A new iron?” she asked slowly as she pulled it out of the box.

“That’s right. So you don’t have to complain about the old one. I know it was giving you…”

Thunk
.

Jake batted his eyes and rubbed his head. Did his wife just hit him in the head with her Christmas gift?

“You got me an iron for our first Christmas? An iron!”

“But, you hated the old one.”

“It’s an iron, Jake!”

Jake rubbed his head again. “It’s an expensive, top-of-the-line iron,” he said defensively.

“Good! Then you can use it when you iron your clothes.”

“Me? I don’t know how to iron clothes. That’s not fun.”

“No kidding! Do you think I enjoy doing it?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Men!” Marcy threw up her arms and stomped from the room.

“Does this mean I don’t get any apple pie tonight?”

Marcy pushed open the swinging door and glared at him. “You won’t be getting apple pie from me for a very long time, Jake Davies!”

The door swung shut and Jake was left sitting on the floor with an iron by his feet, a bump on his head, and an angry wife in the kitchen. Where had he gone wrong?

“You got her an iron? For your first Christmas together?” Beauford Wyatt drawled.

“Yes,” Jake whispered into the phone. He didn’t know whom else to call. Beauford had been good friends with his father and had been married for a while. If anyone could help him, it was Beauford.

Jake could hear him trying not to laugh. “Son, that was quite possibly the stupidest thing you could have done.”

“But…”

“No buts about it. You don’t give your wife a gift like that for Christmas or her birthday. That’s a random day kind of thing. And it’s never a gift. It’s like, ’Oh, I picked this up today‘ type thing. Christmas needs to be romantic and thoughtful. While you put some thought into the iron, it wasn’t
thoughtful
. You basically told her you appreciate her as a maid.”

“Oh,” Jake frowned. “I didn’t think about it like that. What do I do now?”

“You need a Christmas miracle, son.”

Jake hung up the phone and sat quietly on the couch. What was he going to do? He’d messed up big time. Thoughtful. Romantic. Oh boy. He was in trouble. Jake got up and started pacing. He heard Marcy banging pots and pans around in the kitchen and decided it would be wise if he stayed out of there for now.

Romantic. The only romantic thing they’d done together was stay at the bed-and-breakfast. Wait! They’d never had a honeymoon! But, how was he going to pull that off on Christmas day?

Jake reached for the phone again. If anyone could help it, it was Santa.

Marcy slammed the pot onto the stove and grumbled. “Stupid, stupid man. Who does he think I am? The little lady of the house who can’t wait to iron his stupid boxers?”

She turned on the stove and reached for the cast-iron skillet to make some rolls. “I’m just the little lady of the house making Christmas dinner.”

There was a soft knock on the kitchen door and she turned with the skillet still in hand. Jake’s head slowly appeared. When she didn’t bash him with the heavy pan, he stepped the rest of the way into the kitchen. Marcy’s breath caught as she saw the two suitcases he set down.

“You’re leaving me?” she gasped.

“
We’re
leaving. Turn off the stove.” Jake walked slowly into the kitchen and hesitantly reached for the skillet. He took it from her hands and put it away.

Marcy just stood there as he wrapped up food and put it in the freezer. He dumped the pot of water, dried it, and put it away. “What’s going on?”

Jake locked the door and turned off the kitchen lights. He took her hand in his and led her from the room. He stopped only to pick up the suitcases. “Go get dressed, Marcy.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“That would ruin my apology. Now, go get dressed.”

Marcy took a deep breath. An apology was good. “Fine.” She hurried up the stairs and pulled out some slacks and a blouse. Maybe he was taking her to a romantic day out and then to dinner at a fancy restaurant, but that wouldn’t explain the suitcases.

She hurried back downstairs. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Jake locked the door behind them and escorted her to the truck. Maybe a night at the bed-and-breakfast. But then they drove passed it and toward Lexington. Oh! Maybe a night at one of the fancy hotels downtown. But, then he turned before they got to downtown.

“The airport?” Marcy guessed as they turned onto Parkers Mill Road.

“You’ll just have to see.”

Jake parked the car and Marcy started feeling giddy. This was so exciting. Where were they going? She’d never been on a plane before.

Jake led her into the small Bluegrass Airport terminal and set her on a plastic chair. “Wait here.”

She watched as he went to the ticket counter and then came back with two tickets. “Where are we going?” Marcy asked with unabashed giddiness.

“Nowhere until you forgive me. I’m so sorry I was such a dunce. This is our first Christmas together and you put so much thought into your present and I just got the first thing I heard you say you wanted. It didn’t occur to me that it’s not a very romantic gift. I know you’re not my maid and to prove it, will you please teach me to iron?”

Marcy laughed and shook her head. “Yes, I’ll teach you to iron. With pleasure!”

“Since I’m on a roll, will you forgive me for being such a nincompoop?”

“Yes, I’ll forgive you. It seems you’ve more than made up for it.
Now,
will you tell me where we are going?”

“Nope,” Jake grinned and her knees turned wobbly.

Jake held out his hand and they walked through the terminal. She passed each gate wondering if this was the one they would be going to. So many places all over the world were at the tip of her fingers.

“Now boarding for Fort Lauderdale,” a gate attendant said into the loudspeaker.

“Are we going there?” Marcy asked with barely contained excitement as they approached the gate where the stewardess was dressed as a cute Mrs. Claus.

“Yes, it is,” Jake said with a worried smile. “Is it okay?”

“I love you!” Marcy yelled as she jumped onto him. Jake caught her and laughed as she squealed with delight.

The stewardess smiled at them and took the tickets from Jake.

“I’ve never been to the beach. I can’t believe it. You can get me household appliances anytime if this is how you make up for it. I can’t wait to swim in the ocean,” Marcy said as she dragged Jake toward the plane.

“Unfortunately, they require bathing suits at the ocean,” Jake said with a dramatic sigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to make that up to you,” Marcy whispered as they boarded the plane.

“Maybe I will get you a mixer for our anniversary if this is what I get when I do something to make up for it,” Jake grinned.

“Jake Davies! You better not get me a mixer!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson and you have a lifetime of reminding me I got you an iron.”

“We learn something new about each other every day. It makes marriage exciting,” Marcy said as she took her seat by the window.

The stewardess brought over some chocolate and champagne for the few people flying on Christmas day.

Jake raised his glass. “To our marriage. May we love each other a little more every year.”

“And may we take the ups and the downs in stride, always growing closer as we do.”

“And to the beginning of many Christmases together. They may change as we add children to our family, but I will always remember you in that robe, the iron, and the best make-up sex we'll ever have.”

“Well, cheers to that,” Marcy quipped as they clicked glasses and flew toward their future.

EPILOGUE

Keeneston, Kentucky

Christmas Day many years later…

Marcy looked over the dining room table to where Jake sat at the other end. His shoulders were still broad. He still wore flannel shirts with worn blue jeans. His cowboy hat still hung on the peg by the kitchen door. And they still loved each other more every day. Only his wrinkles and gray hair were different from their first Christmas together.

Of course, she didn’t look the same either. Her hair had turned white years ago. Her hands had spots on them. Her breasts were a little lower. Okay, a lot lower, but her husband didn’t seem to mind so she decided not to either. It wasn’t like he was
all
the same either. But they had decided to enjoy growing old together and they weren’t done yet. In fact, after a round of grandbaby birthdays in January, they were headed to the beach—clothing optional. They would never tell their kids that, though!  She loved the shocked expression on her sons’ faces and the gasps from her daughter when they caught her and Jake getting frisky in the kitchen.

Way down at the other end of the table, Jake sat with a glass of wine in hand. The table had been expanded twice over the years. For Davies family get-togethers, it now stretched well into the living room. Her children still sat in the same places at the table as they did growing up. But now they had spouses and children filling up the spaces between them.

It was clear to Marcy that the older girl cousins—Piper, Sydney, Reagan, Riley, Layne, and Sophie—couldn’t wait to escape the younger boys. Piper, being the eldest of Pierce and Tammy’s four kids, tried to ignore her younger siblings and talk to her cousin, Sophie, Cade and Annie’s oldest. At seventeen, Sophie was the leader of the girl cousins and was telling them all about being a senior in high school.

“Grandma, did you make apple pie for Christmas?”

Marcy looked down at the round face of the youngest grandchild. Cassidy, Pierce and Tammy’s youngest, was only six years old. She looked the most like Helen out of the whole group and had found a way to wiggle into a deeper part of Marcy’s heart.

“Yes, dear. Do you think Dylan will share with you?”

Cassidy wrinkled her nose and shook her head. At twelve, her older brother Dylan was taking after his uncles Miles and Marshall. He had muscles and was over five feet tall already. Dylan didn’t share food—he inhaled it. Poor Tammy had had no idea how hard it would be to keep the house in food. Paige, with her two older sons, and Katelyn, with fourteen-year-old Wyatt, had quickly filled her in that it would only get worse.

“But Jace might,” Cassidy said of her nine-year old brother. Jace was so kind-hearted that Marcy didn’t doubt it for a minute.

“Jaaaace?” Cassidy said with a mischievous little smile. “If you don’t finish your pie and I finish mine, can I have what’s left over?”

Jace smiled at his little sister. “Sure, squirt.” Marcy’s heart melted as she knew Jace would purposely leave a couple of bites for his little sister.

The sound of a spoon clinking on a glass got everyone’s attention. Jake stood smiling at his family. He moved his eyes over seventeen grandchildren, his sons, his daughter, and their spouses, now as dear to him as his own children. He caught the eye of Cole, who was still such a quiet observer after all these years, and then to his Marcy.

Marcy was still as beautiful as the day they married almost fifty-eight years ago. She smiled as she cut slice after slice of apple pie. Their love had never wavered in all their years together. It had only grown stronger and deeper.

Jake raised his wine glass. “Marcy and I are so glad you could all join us today to celebrate Christmas.” Jake put his hand to his head. There was a dull ache. It would snow tonight. “Having you here is better than any Christmas present. I hope as the years continue, and as Ryan and Sophie head off to college next year, we continue to do Christmas as we’ve done for the past fifty-eight years—together. This holiday is all about family and we are blessed to have such a large and caring one.”

Marshall and Katelyn’s Wyatt nudged his sister Sydney and smiled. For a younger brother, he was very proud and protective of his sixteen-year-old sister. She’d just been asked to be on the cover of
Teen For Me
magazine. Marshall and Katelyn were still discussing if they’d let her. But considering they asked if Katelyn would be on it with her, and if they’d wear two of Paige’s hats, Jake was pretty sure they’d say yes.

“Merry Christmas to our dear family!” Jake ended as the toast was met with laughter, teasing, clinking glasses, and excited pleas for apple pie.

As customary, Marcy began serving the pie and Jake walked into the dining room to give her a kiss before stealing the first piece. Being the husband did have some benefits—even Cassidy’s wide begging eyes couldn’t trump his wife’s apple pie and the kiss he got along with it.

Soon the tables were filled with silence as everyone ate apple pie. Jace smiled at his little sister. “Wow. I’m stuffed. Cassidy, can you eat this last part for me?”

His sister’s eyes got as big as the grin on her face. “Sure can. Thanks, Jace. You’re the best big brother ever.”

“Hey. What about me?” Dylan asked.

“Don't you bribe her with pie,” Piper teased.

Tammy and Pierce looked over the heads of their children and smiled at each other. They were their own little Davies family now. They’d done a lot over the years, but nothing was as impressive as the four kids sitting between them, not even the Cropbot or the new irrigation system Pierce had developed over the past five years.

Paige looked across the table at her youngest brother and thought about pegging him with a dinner roll like he used to do to her, but she was afraid Greer and Jackson would happily join in and start a food fight. Ryan was trying to be too cool for things like that, but she’d caught him giving Greer a piggyback ride the other day.

Cole and Paige’s older boys, seventeen-year-old Ryan and fourteen-year-old Jackson, thought their nine-year-old sister was pretty cool. They didn’t think that way until this summer though. Greer had picked up Jackson’s bow and arrow, and with a little help from Paige, could now outshoot them in target practice.

After having trouble conceiving, Annie and Cade had all but given up trying. That’s when they got Colton who was turning nine next week and less than a year later, they welcomed Landon.

Not wanting to break the pattern they started so many Christmases ago, Paige gave birth to her only girl, Greer, on the same day Annie had Colton. Over the years, Ryan and Sophie, who both had Christmas birthdays, had tried to tell Greer and Colton how cool it was to share a birthday with their cousin. But Colton didn’t want to share it with a
girl
at his age.

“You think Katelyn will let Sydney be on that cover?” Cole asked quietly.

“She will. She’s already talked to me about the hats,” Paige whispered back. Her hat business had grown over the years. Cole was still happy at the FBI in Lexington and they didn’t have any plans to change, although she was having a hard time accepting Ryan was heading off to college next year.

“Dad. Talk to Mom, please?” Sydney begged.

“This is between you and your mother. You know I hate the idea. It’s bad enough your mom let you start dating this year. Thank goodness I still have a gun. If you and your mom get on that magazine cover, I’ll have hordes of pimply squeaky boys at my door,” Marshall told her.

Sydney rolled her eyes and Wyatt snickered. “What are you laughing at? You’re a pimply squeaker yourself.”

“At least I don’t make faces in the mirror all afternoon.”

“I’m practicing!”

“Practicing looking silly,” Wyatt snorted.

“Okay, you two. That’s enough. Wyatt, support your sister. Sydney, don’t torture your brother.” Katelyn said even though she was talking to Morgan. Marshall just shook his head. He didn’t know how she knew all that was going on while carrying on a conversation with someone else. It was some magical mom power.

“Don’t laugh, Miles,” Katelyn said to her brother-in-law. “Look at Layne. It won’t be long before you get to deal with this, too.”

Miles sat with his fifteen-year-old daughter, Layne, between him and his wife, Morgan. Layne, as well as all of the grandchildren, had inherited Jake and Helen’s hazel eyes. Layne’s glowed in anger at her twin eight-year-old boy cousins, Porter and Parker. Cy and Gemma’s second set of twins were harassing her about cutting her jet-black hair to impress some boy.

“I did not!” Layne yelled across the table.

“Layne has a boooyfrrrriend,” they taunted before their fifteen-year-old twin sisters, Reagan and Riley, smacked the back of their heads.

“It looks great, Layne. Don’t listen to those brats.”

“Reagan, don’t say mean things about your brothers. Someday you’ll love them,” Gemma said for the hundredth time.

Miles shook his head. His brown hair had gray at the temples now. He’d gotten it when he turned fifty a couple of years back. “Nope. I got a plan for that. I’m locking her in the basement until she’s thirty.”

Katelyn, Morgan, and Layne all rolled their eyes at him. They all thought he was joking. He had been until a boy had called the house the other day wanting to talk to Layne.

“Don’t worry, Layne. Your aunts and I will make sure he’ll let you out once or twice a year,” Morgan teased.

Over the years together, she and Miles had become centered. They’d done that to each other. The anxiety and demons of the past had been buried. Now there was laughter and happiness. Even when they’d been unable to have any more children, it had only brought them closer as a family. Now that Morgan was also on the other side of fifty, they accepted it was just the three of them. Layne was their light and they were at every sporting event, every debate, and every choir performance. They loved every moment. They wouldn’t change their life for anything.

Cy tossed an anxious look to Gemma. “You’ll visit me in jail, right?”

Gemma looked up from where she was telling Porter and Parker to eat their pie rather than smear it on each other. “Cy, we’ve talked about this. It’s no big deal. You did it when you where their age.”

“I know,” Cy grumbled, “Which is why I know Reagan and Riley should be in the basement with Layne.”

Gemma just shook her head as their daughters groaned, “Dad.”

“Honey, are you happy? Have you eaten your pie?”

“Yes,” Cy answered contentedly.

“Good. I’ve agreed to let the twins go out with a bunch of other kids to the movies next week,” Gemma said calmly.

“What?!” Cy shot up from the table. “Give me their names, social security numbers—no, never mind, I don’t need social security numbers. Names and birthdates, now!”

“Cyland Davies!” Marcy scolded. “Your daughters are more than capable of going out in a group." Turning to her granddaughters, Marcy asked,  "Reagan, what do you do if a boy pushes for a kiss that you don’t want?”

“Tell him no,” Reagan said around a bite of pie.

“And if he doesn’t take no for an answer?” Marcy pressed.

“Kick him in the balls,” Reagan responded.

“Right. And if he really won’t take no for an answer or you can’t kick him in the balls, what do you do, Riley?”

“Knock him out with a well-placed punch to the jaw, temple, or back of the head,” Riley answered as Aunt Annie gave her a thumbs-up.

“Layne, if someone is doing something you’re not comfortable with, what do you do?” Marcy continued to ask.

“Call my dad. If he’s not home, my mom. And if I can’t get them, then you and Grandpa or any of my aunts and uncles. But I’d probably call Uncle Ahmed first. The kids are scared of him the most.”

“They’re more scared of him than me?” Cy asked, slightly wounded.

Layne nodded. “And Aunt Annie. She scares them. They heard rumors of the things she used to do with Aunt Bridget.”

Annie looked proud as Miles and Cy looked resigned. The cousins looked at each other with triumph in their eyes. They had won the first dating battle.

The conversation around Annie took over. The group talked about dating, boys, girls, teenagers, and driving. Gone were the days where it was talk of dark things such as drugs, dog fighting, and terrorists. A part of her longed to kick a little ass, but she was secure in the fact that she’d taught Sophie everything she knew.

Annie leaned over to Cade and he put his arm around her. Annie grinned to herself. Predictable. He thought she wanted to snuggle. Instead, Annie stabbed her fork into his pie and ate a huge piece.

“Sucker,” she said as she chewed.

“You think after almost eighteen years I haven’t caught on to your tricks? Isn’t that cute?” Cade laughed as his wife wrinkled her nose.

“Ew. I bet they’re going to kiss again,” Colton said to Landon.

Sophie wrinkled her nose just like her mother. “Not again!”

The brothers and Cole all shared an amused look and then kissed their wives soundly to the sound of their kids’ disgust.