"For heaven's sake, Francisca, this can't possibly work," her aunt said, turning from the window and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched Francisca unpack. Pookie, snuggled against the pillows piled high against an iron headboard, snored and wheezed.
"Why not?" Francisca surveyed her collection of new silk underwear. Definitely fit for a bride. And a honeymoon.
"You barely know each other."
Francisca smiles and stuffed the pastel underwear into the too drawer of an oak dresser. "We have our whole lives to do that."
"And that's another t. You are both soo... young."
She shrugged. "That doesn't matter."
Rose closed her eyes briefly, as if praying for something. "Did you meet those twin girlfriends of his?"
"Former girlfriends," Francisca countered, shoving the empty suitcase under the bed. Marty was happy to see them."
"Bobby wasn't."
"Aunt Rose," Francisca groaned, stepping around the bed to wrap her arms around the older woman's neck. "I do love you, but you really don't have any idea what it's like to be in love."
Rose's shoulders shook, so Francisca released her and began to stammer an apology.
"I didn't mean to make you feel bad-oh, you are laughing," she said, relieved. Francisca wouldn't have hurt her serious, responsible, dedicated aunt for anything in the world.
"You treat me as if I'm one hundred years old,"
Rose said, still smiling. "How do you know I don't have a man waiting for me on the Cape, some sex-crazed lobsterman counting the hours until I return to the dock and make his day?"
"Yeah, right," Francisca said, rolling her eyes. "You'd tell me if you'd met someone."
"I would?"
"You wouldn't?"
Her aunt gave her that mind-your-own-business look, the one she usually ignored. But tonight she decided she'd better leave well enough alone. Aunt Roro was here, in Texas, about to put her seal of approval on Francisca's marriage to a real cowboy. It wouldn't be smart to antagonize her.
"If you are finished, we should go downstairs and say good-night."
"Why?" Francisca asked.
"It's after nine, honey. And it's been a long day."
"it's barely nine, Aunt Roro," Francisca said, pushing in the front dresser to brush her hair. She'd washed off the dust and changed into white shorts and a pink T-shirt, so she was ready to see her fiancé again. "It's still early and we thought we'd head to town for a while. Bobby's going to teach me how to two-step." She headed for the door. "Should we leave pook up here?"
"I will put him in his bed in my room ," Rose said, scooping the dog off the blue quilted bed-spread.
"Bobby said Andrew would come, too."
Her aunt spun around. "Would come where?"
"Dancing with us," Francisca said, wondering if Aunt Roro was suffering from jet lag or something. "We are going to learn the two-step and drink beer in a real Texas bar."
"Francisca, I just don't..."
"Aunt Rose," Francisca said, leading her aunt out of the bedroom and across the hall. "You really have to learn how to relax. Besides, Andrew is nice-looking for an older guy. You could do worse."
"Yes," her aunt agreed in a strangled voice. "I could do worse."
"SHE'S BEAUTIFUL."
"She's trouble."
"Huh?"
"Not Francisca," Andrew said, hoping he was right about the young woman. He nodded toward Rose, who looked very serious as she sipped a glass of wine and surveyed the wall of Western paintings that decorated the living room. He hoped Mrs Martin had dusted the frames and polished the glass.
Nobody used the room since Bobby had installed a large-screen television and a satellite dish in the main bunkhouse. "Rose."
"Oh. the auntie." Bobby shrugged. "She's not so bad. I think she even likes me."
"How can you tell?" Genuinely interested in Bobby's answer, Andrew turned his gaze from Rose and studied the kid.
"Well, she is real polite."
"Yeah, and what else?"
"She hasn't said anything mean."
"I don't think she's the mean type," Andrew said,
"but I wouldn't be too sure of myself if i were you. I don't think she will give up her niece easily."
"Aw, she will come around. You are taking her off to see the sights tomorrow?"
"Yes, sir," Andrew said, hiding a smile.
Bobby lowered his voice. "You don't have to go with us tonight. Francisca said her aunt's tired and wants to go to the bed instead of out of the town."
"Suit yourself," Andrew said, knowing he wasn't going to sleep much tonight, not while knowing that Rose was only a few hundred yards away.
"You are not gonna get out of here without a chaperone, no matter how much you think the aunt likes you. Especially after that rolling-in-the-dirt stunt you pulled a while ago."
Bobby grinned. "It felt pretty damn good, too. That crazy Gus did me a favor."
Andrew couldn't help feeling a little bit jealous.
*****
CHECK OUT MY NEW STORY 'ANNIE'S PERFECT HUSBAND'
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