Riverbend Reunion(56)

“I need to put some oil on those chains,” Oscar said.

“The creaking is talking to me. They’re singing one of Mama’s favorite hymns this morning,” Mary Nell said with a smile.

“Whatever it’s singing, it’s not on key.” Oscar chuckled. “I kind of recognize the tune, though. Can’t remember the name of the hymn, but it talked about being free as a bird.”

“That’s the one,” she said.

Oscar tilted his head to one side. “I think they might be singing ‘Danny Boy.’ Think they’re trying to tell us something?”

Mary Nell began to sing the lyrics to the old Irish song in her alto voice.

Oscar pulled a red bandanna from the bib pocket of his faded blue overalls and wiped his eyes. “You sound just like my sweet Nellie when you sing, and she loved that song. You should have been the one to try to get a toe in the door in Nashville. Kevin didn’t have what you’ve got.”

“What makes you think that?” Mary Nell took the bandanna from him and wiped the tears from her own cheeks and handed it back to him. “You know I can’t ever let anyone cry alone, especially if it brings back memories of Mama.”

“Memories of her are all we have left, so we have to cherish them whether they make us sad or happy.” He stuffed the bandanna back into his pocket. “And I said that about your singing because Kevin can carry a tune and stay on key, but he doesn’t sing from the heart and soul like you do. You feel every word that comes out of your mouth.”

“On some songs, maybe.” Mary Nell took a sip of her coffee and remembered thinking that every song on the radio was meant for her as she made the twelve-hour drive back to Riverbend from Nashville. She had sung along with some of them, cussed with others, and cried with a lot, but they had helped put distance between her and Kevin.

“I like Danny’s Place,” Oscar said. “It’s got a nice ring to it, and it doesn’t sound like a honky-tonk as much as something like the Rusty Spur or Longhorn Bar. That’s what I’m going to vote on this morning.”

“Me too,” Mary Nell agreed, “and I don’t think we need to add bar and grill under the name. Just plain old Danny’s Place.”

“Honey, there won’t be anything plain about our bar and grill,” Oscar said with another chuckle. “It’s going to be the best place to eat as well as get a drink or a beer and do some dancing in Burnet County.”

“What if things get rowdy?” Mary Nell asked.

Oscar stood up and flexed his muscles. “Then I get to be a bouncer. But we’ve thwarted a peaceful demonstration with cookies and entertainment, so maybe the twins could be bouncers instead.”

“I don’t think rowdy soldiers will respond to homemade cookies.” Mary Nell started into the house.

“Maybe not.” Her father got that twinkle in his eyes. “But one of them rowdy soldiers might be someone that you could . . .”

Mary Nell held up a palm. “Don’t go there, Daddy. I’m thirty-eight and most of those guys will be in their teens or twenties. If I ever get involved with a guy again, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will take a lot of time to get to know him, and . . .”

“And,” Oscar butted in, “he has to pass my inspection, and be as good a man as Wade.”

“Don’t go there, either,” Mary Nell said. “I’m going to get dressed. Risa said she was making waffles this morning. I can almost smell them cooking. There are no sparks with Wade, Daddy, and I want electricity and chemistry and someone who makes me feel like a queen. And if I can’t have the whole enchilada, then I’ll just be an old-maid aunt to Risa’s twins.”

“That’s exactly what a father wants for his baby girl—the whole nine yards, but not to be an old-maid aunt. You have such a big heart that you deserve a family,” Oscar said with a nod.



Haley ate some crackers, drank some sweet tea, and lay very still until the nausea passed that morning. She wondered whether her sister or mother—or whatever she was supposed to call the woman who birthed her—had morning sickness when she was pregnant. Or whether maybe the birth had been so horrific for a fifteen-year-old that she made a vow to never, ever have another baby. Frannie had eloped with an older man when she was past thirty, and they had never had children, much to Nadine’s, Haley’s mother-slash-grandmother’s, dismay. And then a couple of years ago, Frannie had died with a sudden heart attack, the same thing that had taken Haley’s mother from her recently. She wondered if she would go the same way sometime in the future, but the thought disappeared when her stomach rolled again. She might die of nausea and not even live to see forty.

Everything was so confusing, especially at six o’clock in the morning, when her stomach was even rebelling against tea and crackers. But having Risa and the girls in the house helped her not to feel so alone. Lying there and trying not to move even an eyelid, she realized that she would never be alone again. She would have a child to take care of, to love and watch grow up, and she would have friends who were willing to be part of the village that everyone talked about when it came to raising children.

Someone rapped softly on her door, and then the hinges squeaked. Risa poked her head inside and asked, “How’s the sickness this morning?”