Best Laid Plans Page 15

  The three men were on the ground, groaning and seeming not to know which to clutch first, their bellies, or their balls, or their noses.

  “These candy-assed pissants thought they should stop the wedding.”

  “What…” One of the men gurgled through the blood that dripped from his nose into his mouth and glowered at Mr. Jackson the best he could. “What you’re doin’s ungodly, and you’re gonna burn in hell for it!”

  “Yeah, it’s our duty as Christians to put a stop to all this ungodliness,” another one managed to get out through clenched teeth. “Your daddy’s against it.”

  All the third one could do was roll from side to side and groan, “What they said!”

  Mr. Jackson’s face turned dark red. “I should have known that bigoted old man wouldn’t keep out of this.”

  “How could you, Jack? He’s always loved Thaddeus.” JT went to him and patted his shoulder, then grimaced.

  “Have you broken your hand?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll have Hal check it when he gets here. Meanwhile, call the sheriff’s office.”

  “Tom, they could press charges.” Mr. Andy looked concerned.

  “Not likely. They’d have to admit a homo beat the shit out of them. They won’t press charges.”

  “But I will.” Mr. Jackson was royally pissed off. Mopp couldn’t remember ever seeing him so furious, not even when he’d caught one of his men selling off building supplies. “They’re on private property, and they weren’t invited. When I learn who let them past the gates… Oh, thanks, Andy.” His brother had handed him a cellphone.

  The phone call was brief and to the point, and Mr. Jackson was looking a little less pissed when he hung up.

  “There’s a cruiser in the vicinity. They should be here in about five minutes.” He looked around. “Mopp, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure, Mr. Jackson. Whatever you need. Want me to get your shotgun? The big one?” There really wasn’t one, but Mopp wanted to throw a scare into the men who had finally stopped rolling around and were staggering to their knees. They made him ashamed to be a Baptist.

  “Thanks for the offer, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want Tad and Rush to find out about this. It’s the last thing they need on their wedding day. Make sure they don’t come out here. Better yet, make sure they stay in their room.”

  Mopp turned bright scarlet. “Um… I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  Mr. Jackson looked amused. “Practicing for their honeymoon, are they?”

  Mopp ducked his head, thankful he didn’t have to come up with an excuse, and hurried into the house.

  Chapter 6

  MOPP WASN’T SUPPOSED to be part of the wedding party, but since Mr. Jackson was the father of a groom, JT was the best man, and Tad and Rush were the grooms, they were short men to escort the ladies down the aisle, and so he was recruited to be an usher. He grabbed up his tux jacket, slid his arms into the sleeves, and fastened a button. After watching how Mr. Cooper did it, Mopp held out his arm for JT’s sister to take.

  Fortunately, the walk down the aisle wasn’t long, because the lady intimidated the heck out of him. It was hard to believe she and JT were twins.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t. JT had intimidated him too when they’d first met.

  Mopp saw her to her seat before hurrying back up the aisle, asking the next lady, “Groom or Groom?”

  Finally, everyone was seated. The ceremony wasn’t supposed to start until a quarter of twelve. Tad and Rush had practiced…. Predictably, Mopp felt himself blushing.

  They’d rehearsed until they were sure they’d say their vows on the stroke of midnight.

  Until that time, JT played soft, romantic music, and the guests chatted quietly.

  JT had changed into a white tux, and fortunately, no one seemed aware of the brawl that had taken place earlier. Everyone thought it was just a matter of taste that he wore white while Mr. Jackson wore black.

  “Psst! Mopp!” Tad poked his head around the door and motioned him to join them. Rush was standing beside him, and so was Mr. Cooper. “Look, we need you to give us a hand.”

  “Sure.”

  “Becca is keeping JT distracted.”

  Mopp glanced toward the alcove. She was leaning against the piano, turning the pages of the sheet music, and murmuring softly to JT.

  “Okay. Why?”

  “We don’t want him to see this until we’re ready. It’s a surprise for him. Tad and I have it all worked out.”

  Rush glanced at his watch, and swallowed nervously. “This canopy has to be set up in front of the rabbi. Right…” He looked like he was counting down something. “… now!” He reached for Tad’s hand and gripped it tightly.

  “It’s okay, babe.” Tad gave him a quick kiss. He seemed to have recovered from his upset earlier. “Just remember, I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Or maybe he just had better things to occupy his mind.

  “Let’s go, Mopp.”

  “Okay, Mr. Cooper.” They each grabbed a set of legs and hurried down the aisle. “But what’s this all about?”

  “Tad and Rush are going to say their vows under the Chuppah, the Jewish marriage canopy. They’re doing this to honor Tom.”

  Mopp blinked rapidly and sniffled. “They’re wonderful.”

  “Tom thinks so. So do I.”

  “This is a great family.”

  “You’re pretty great yourself, Mopp.”

  Mopp looked up and grinned, super pleased to hear such a nice man like Mr. Cooper thought well of him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Okay, we’ve got to hurry before Tom gets suspicious.”

  Within minutes the canopy was set up, the rabbi whispering just how it should be placed.

  Finally he nodded in satisfaction. “Now, if you gentlemen will step to the side?” He signaled Miss Becca.

  She said something to JT, kissed his cheek, and hurried to sit between Miss Abby and Miss Lizzie.

  JT smiled at the guests and played a fanfare, then rose and pressed a button on the CD player. “The Wedding Song” poured from hidden speakers. By the time he turned around, Tad was standing beneath the canopy, waiting for Rush to join him.

  “Oh!” Tears began to stream down JT’s cheeks. “Oh!”

  Chapter 7

  THE WEDDING WAS over, the reception was over, and Tad and Rush had left for their honeymoon at a hotel in the historic district of Savannah.

  The guests had left as well, and the adults—oh, chronologically Mopp knew he was an adult, but he meant the real adults: Mr. Jackson, JT, Miss Abby, Miss Lizzie—they all had gone to bed.

  Miz Babe had seemed a little nervous, which didn’t surprise him. It had taken her a month or so to warm up to everyone at the ranch, and she didn’t know any of these people. She’d stayed long enough to put together a platter of food for her son, who wore a cute little tux, and dance with a few men, himself included. But then she’d given a tight smile and hustled Denny off to bed and hadn’t returned.

  Mopp sat sprawled comfortably on one of the folding chairs, smiling. He knew his smile was on the wasted side, but he was feeling so good he didn’t care. In his hand was a plastic cup with about an inch of champagne punch in it, along with the remains of a couple of strawberries.

  He’d never had champagne before, and he found he liked it. It had given him the courage to dance with all the ladies, and even to flirt a bit, although he was careful not to be obvious. He didn’t want to upset Jan. He knew how badly she’d been hurt by that Nick guy, who she’d been so serious about.

  He frowned. That was like something Jim Bob, his oldest brother, would do, make a girl fall in love with him, and then treat her like dirt. Well, look how he treated Carrie Ann, his wife. Jim Bob was either out drinking with his redneck buddies or sitting on the couch
at Daddy and Momma’s. Even tonight, Christmas Eve—well, it was Christmas Day now—he was there instead of with his wife and all the kids he’d given her.

  Jim Bob was a jerk.

  Mopp tried to fish a strawberry out of his cup, but it kept eluding him. Finally, he decided on a pincer attack.

  “Aha!” Success! He popped it in his mouth and licked the combination of juice, champagne, and some other alcohol from his fingers.

  “’Night, Mopp.”

  “Hmm? Oh, g’night, Miss Becca.” He squinted as he watched her leave the room. She was so pretty, in a dress of blue velvet that matched her eyes. Not as pretty as his Jan, of course, but—

  “C’mon, Billy Bob. Let’s go to bed.”

  He smiled up at his girlfriend, who was standing before him, her hand extended. He blinked. “Why’re you swaying back and forth?” He wished she’d stop. It was starting to make him seasick.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Nope. ’m never drunk.”

  “Well, you’re sure givin’ a good impression of it. I’m goin’ to bed. You can come or not, that’s up to you.” She must have had a bit too much to drink as well. She was losing her g’s, something she was always careful about.

  “But….” He stared after her as she flounced out of the room. “What’d I do?” he asked plaintively.

  “You didn’t do anything, Mopp.”

  He looked up to see Mr. Cooper standing there, gazing into the cup of punch he held.

  “I must’ve done something.”

  Mr. Cooper smiled into his eyes. “No. Women can be like that sometimes.”

  “If you say so.” He tipped his cup back, sticking out his tongue to catch the last drops. “This was a really nice wedding, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes it was.”

  “Tad and Rush looked so happy.”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “I want a wedding like this.” Only he’d never be able to afford it. Not for years an’ years an’ years….

  “Come on, Mopp.” Mr. Cooper took his arm and helped him to his feet, steadying him as he wobbled.

  “Thanks, Josh.”

  Mr. Cooper went still for a moment, but then he said, “You’re welcome.”

  “Where’d JT and Mr. Jackson go?”

  “To bed, don’t you remember? That’s where all good little boys should be. Morning will be here before we know it.” Mr. Cooper put his arm around Mopp’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  “Um… where’re we going?”

  “To bed.”

  “Mr. Cooper! I ain’t that kinda boy!” Then he spoiled his righteous words by giggling and leaning against him.

  “Believe me, I know. You’re going to your bed, and I’m going to mine, and never the twain shall meet. Now, you know Santa won’t come while a single soul is awake, don’t you?”

  “There’s no such person as Santa Claus.”

  “Mopp?”

  “The pastor at Momma’s church didn’t hold with such nonsense, and while Daddy and Momma saw we had presents”—he wasn’t going to tell Mr. Cooper the sorts of presents he and his siblings had actually received—“they made sure we knew they were from them and not from some make-believe fat man in a red suit who had nothing better to do than break into god-fearing people’s houses in the middle of the night.”

  A muscle in Mr. Cooper’s jaw twitched, and Mopp stared at it, fascinated. He raised his hand to touch it, but for some reason he couldn’t make contact with it. He stared at his hand in frustration.

  “Never mind, Mopp. Let’s go.”

  “Didn’t you already say that?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Okay. I thought you did. I just wanted to be sure.”

  “And Jan is waiting for you. You don’t want to keep the lady waiting, do you?”

  Mr. Cooper was just the best. “No, I don’t.”

  “All right, then. Let’s—”

  Mopp began to giggle. “—go!”

  The door to Jan’s room was locked.

  “Uh oh. I don’t think she was happy I had some champagne.”

  “I have a feeling what made her unhappy was that you danced with Miz Babe.”

  “But I danced with a lot of the ladies. And I didn’t dance that many times with Miz Babe.”

  “Sorry, Mopp. I’m gay. I have no idea what goes on in a woman’s mind. Now come along. I’ll see you get home to the bunkhouse in one piece.”

  Chapter 8

  LIFE WAS AWESOME, Mopp thought, almost giddily.

  The wedding had been awesome; Christmas had been awesome—once he’d taken an aspirin for his headache—but most awesome of all was this New Year’s Eve party.

  Jan had excused herself to go to the kitchen to help Miss Becca with some of the munchies that had to be nuked or heated in the oven.

  For a change, Mopp didn’t feel awkward, even though he didn’t know most of this crowd. They were friends of Tad and Miss Becca and Jan.

  It was too bad Miz Babe didn’t want to celebrate the arrival of 2002, but for the past couple of days she’d been tense and edgy, making sure Denny wasn’t far from her.

  Come to think of it, Jan had been a little anxious lately too.

  Mopp sat in a corner, sipping soda from the can—after the way his head had almost exploded from all the champagne punch he’d drunk on Christmas, he’d sworn off anything alcoholic—and listened while Mr. Cooper and JT talked about the possibility of him going to college.

  “Daddy’s not gonna be happy.”

  “Why not?”

  “He feels getting a college education is putting on airs.”

  JT shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Mopp couldn’t exactly make it out, but he had a feeling it wasn’t complimentary to his daddy.

  “Look, Billy Bob. All our kids go to college.”

  “But I’m not your kid.”

  JT gave him a look. “You live here, yes? You eat at our table, yes? Then you’re our kid.”

  Oh! To have someone come out and say that… It made him feel more a part of this family in just the nine months he’d lived here than in the twenty years he’d lived with Momma and Daddy.

  “You want to go, don’t you?” JT asked.

  “More than anything, JT.” He’d always wanted to. “But my grades….” They could have been a lot better.

  “You can take some tests to see where you are. If you need, there are remedial classes, and I’ll tutor you.”

  “Would you help too, Mr. Cooper?”

  He looked surprised that Mopp would ask him. So did JT, if it came to that, but Mopp had always liked Mr. Cooper a lot.

  Finally, Mr. Cooper smiled. “I will.”

  “Thank you.” Mopp had another thought. “But my job….”

  “Jack isn’t a slave driver. He’ll give you a few hours off in the afternoon, and you’ve got Saturdays and Sundays. You can go part-time to start with.”

  “But Jan….” Of course he was dazzled by the idea of actually going to college, of being more than a helper on a jobsite, or the perennial apprentice, but his girlfriend seemed to like him the way he was.

  “That’s right. You’re forgetting Miss January, Tommy,” Mr. Cooper said. “She’s going to want to be squired around town by her fella.”

  “If she cares as much about Billy Bob as she says, then she should be encouraging him to expand his horizons.”

  Of course she cared about him. He didn’t doubt that for an instant. “But….”

  “Mopp, if all you’re going to do is object, I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

  “No, JT. I was just going to say I have no idea what I’d want to study.”

  “Then you agree to try it?”

  “I’d like to, but I don’t know what subjects to t
ake.”

  “That’s what freshman year in college is all about. Trying various courses. Discovering where your interests lie.”

  “I’d surely like to do that.”

  “Do what, Billy Bob?” Jan asked, offering him a platter of mini pizza bagels.

  “Thank you.” He took one. “I’m gonna go to college!”

  “What?”

  “Isn’t that great?”

  “No, it’s not great!”

  “Jan?”

  “How are we supposed to get married if you’re in college?”

  Now it was Mopp’s turn to say, “What?”

  JT looked startled. “You’re getting married?”

  “No.”

  “You have to marry me, Billy Bob.” Her voice had become shrill, rising over the sounds of the party.

  “What?”

  Mr. Cooper looked disappointed, and so did JT. “I thought you knew better, Billy Bob.”

  “Excuse me? You think I’d refuse to marry Jan if she was pregnant? That’s not fair. Of course we’d get married. But she’s not pregnant.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Mopp gave Mr. Cooper an exasperated look. “How do you think I’d know?” When all he got was a blank look in response, he blushed and muttered, “She’s had her period this past week.”

  “Of course I’m not pregnant,” Jan snapped. “But I think it’s time Billy Bob and I got married.”

  “This is hardly the time—”

  “Stay out of this, JT. This has nothing to do with you. It’s between me and Billy Bob.”

  “Look, Jan. If I thought I could comfortably support the two of us, I’d agree with you. But I’m barely making enough to support myself.”

  JT looked startled. “Billy Bob, I do the books. I know what Jack pays you. Where is your money going?”

  “I give most of it to my momma. Daddy’s job doesn’t pay well, and there are so many kids…” And a lot of his paycheck that didn’t go to Momma went to buy the shirts and pants and shoes that Jan insisted he had to wear if he was dating her. And they all seemed to cost a fortune. Although I can probably use them for college, he mused.

  “It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Jan accused.