"It's official," Francisca said, wriggling her fingers.
"Now that you have met him and everything, I said YES."
"Said yes," Rose echoed, still holding the quilt to her despite the heat of the afternoon sun. They'd been gone for hours, because it had taken her such a long time to make up her mind between the flower garden, double wedding ring and appliquéd pansy quilts. Blue, pink, pale green or lavender... none of the choices were easy. "Said yes to what?"
"Marriage Aunt Roro," Francisca announced and, ignoring the bundle of fabric, threw herself into her aunt's arms. "I knew you'd love him."
"Oh, dear." It was the only thing Rose could think of to say. She looked past Francisca's shoulder to the young cowboy. He grinned uncertainly. "Congratulations," Rose told him. Maybe it would be a long engagement, long enough for them both to come to their senses.
"When?" Andrew asked, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else.
"We're getting married on the fourth of July," Bobby announced.
*"This year?"*
"Yes ma'am."
Andrew caught the quilt as it dropped, leaving Rose free to finally notice the sparkling diamond engagement ring on Francisca's finger. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, Aunt Roro, really sure."
Rose looked over toward Andrew, who was busy shaking Bobby's hand. He turned to meet her gaze, but instead of looking sympathetic or triumphant he stood there, her quilt bundled up underneath his arm, and met her gaze.
"You want to go out for dinner?" Andrew asked, as if he understood her urge to escape. He even went to the passenger door and opened it for her.
"Sure," Rose heard herself reply.
"But Aunt Roro, we've got to plan a wedding!' Francisca wailed. "You can't leave now."
She didn't want to plan a wedding. She wanted to have dinner with the cowboy and pretend that she was getting on a plane. Maybe she really would get on a plane. Rose turned away from her niece as returned to Bobby's wide, comfortable, air conditioned Cadillac. Andrew tossed the quilt in her lap, then shut the door.
Rose remember to wave goodbye.
"IT'S LIKE THIS," Andrew began, after taking a good long of cold beer. To his surprise Rose had ordered one, too, and seemed happy to be drinking it.
The steak barn wasn't crowded late Sunday afternoon, but the waitress had seated them at a small table in the corner anyway, which suited Andrew just fine. He shifted in his chair and accidentally brushed Rose's knees with his own, and it sent shock waves right to his groin. He tried not to wince, but it wasn't easy. looking at her wasn't easy. Smelling her perfume-he thought it might be lavender but he wasn't sure-wasn't easy, either.
Remembering making love to her wasn't real easy, either.
"What's like what?" she asked.
She was looking at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. For a moment he forgot what he was talking about. "This wedding thing." He cleared his throat. "Bobby's never wanted to get married until now, and I have to tell you that we are all pretty damn pleased that he wants to settle down." Andrew took another drink. "What i want to know is why you are so against it?"
"They are too young."
"Lots of couples are. What else?"
"I don't think Francisca knows what she's getting into." She leaned back to allow the waitress to deposit a basket of tortilla chips and a crock of salsa in the middle of the table.
"Does anyone?"
Rose didn't appear to have an answer for that one, so Andrew took advantage of her silence. "Bobby's in love."
"And so, probably, is Francisca. But it's not enough."
He frowned "Why not?"
"They're too different. How on earth is Francisca supposed to be a ranch wife?"
"What's wrong with being a ranch wife?"
"Nothing, if you have some idea what it's going to entail."
"Which is?"
"Cleaning and cooking and living far away from town and babies and..."
"You have something against babies?"
"No, of course not, but..."
"There are housekeepers for the rest of it, you know, and Bobby can afford to hire 'em." He didn't tell her that Bobby couldn't hang onto them, but that would change after the wedding, too. "And there are cars and trucks to take you to town, which is only about thirty minutes from here, forty if you drive the speed limit."
"So, if this is all so easy, why haven't you married?"
Andrew couldn't think of one good reason. Expect the truth. "I've been busy taking care of the Dead Horse ranch, that's why. And as soon as Bobby settles down, he can take care of it himself."
"But then what will you do?"
"I have a place nearby. And I sure wouldn't mind spending my time working it." He helped himself to a tortilla chip dipped in the hottest salsa in the country and wondered what Rose would say if he asked her again to come home with him.
"Instead of baby-sitting Bobby Calhoun," She said, coming to the right conclusion.
"Yep. Be careful with the salsa. It's probably hotter than you are used to," he warned, taking a quick drink of beer to cool his throat. If he could cool off the rest of him he'd be in better shape. He noticed she took his advice. The waitress came to the table to take their order, so Andrew waited until she scurried off to the kitchen before getting back to the subject of their conversation. "Look," he said. "I know you don't want the kids to get married, but I don't think there's much you can do to stop it."
"Accept the inevitable, you mean."
"Yep."
"In the past couple of years my niece has thought she was an artist, which meant living in Italy, and then she was sure she was meant to be an actress. Don't even ask me what Los Angeles is like," Rose said, pausing to take a sip of her drink. "Last February Francisca had become involved with a rock band that left her broke and stranded in the middle of Illinois, which was how I ended up in Chicago airport."
"Lucky for me," he interjected. But Rose didn't seem to have heard him.
"And now she pictures herself as a cowgirl. Do you see the problem here?"
*****
CHECK OUT MY NEW STORY 'ANNIE'S PERFECT HUSBAND'
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