The Matchmakers of Butternut Creek (13 page)

“We’ll work things out together,” Adam said. “Once you know more about the prognosis, we’ll work it out.”

“What about that mess at home?” George sat up suddenly. “The blood all over?”

“Miss Birdie will take care of that. Don’t worry about the house now.” He spoke calmly and clearly. “George, the doctors know what they are doing, and their training guided their hands. You and Ouida have friends and family who love you and will be with you. We all hope Ouida will soon be home healthy and whole, in the best possible health.” His words were actually those he used in prayers before surgery, but without what George would consider the spiritual stuff.

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you.” George nodded and settled back again, but he didn’t look as miserable as he had before that stealth prayer.

Two hours later, the surgeon approached to talk with them, pretty much repeating what the ER doctor had said. After that, George spoke with the clerk from social services, who said Ouida would be in the hospital for a few days, then taken to a skilled nursing facility. Adam requested she look into a place close to Butternut Creek.

Later, they went to the room assigned to Ouida. When the bed was wheeled in, she had her hand wound in bandages, her arm bound to her side, and her leg in a cast and hanging in traction. Looking pale and groggy, she waved weakly with her good arm. Immediately a nurse threw the men out so he could hook Ouida up to some machines.

As they waited, Adam’s cell vibrated. He clicked on a text message and read it.

“Hector’s here with my car,” he said. “With Ouida back and probably sleeping, I’m going to take off. Will you be okay to drive your car home?”

George nodded. “I think I’ll go to the office and get some work done.”

“No,” Adam stated. “You need to stay here with Ouida, then you have to go home. You have two little girls who need to know their mother is okay and have their father at home with them. They need that security.”

George sighed. “I’m not very good with this father stuff, but, you’re right. I’ll stay with Ouida for a couple of hours, then go home.”

“I’ll come back again tomorrow.” Adam shook George’s hand, then headed for the elevator.

“How’s she doing, Pops?” Hector waited in the cafeteria, his calculus book open on a table in front of him.

Adam shrugged. “Okay. She’ll be here for a while.”

“Oh, man.” Hector closed his book and stood. “You can’t drive that wreck into Austin every day to see her. That’s dangerous.”

“Too far to walk,” Adam said. “Come on. Let’s go. I want to stop and get some breakfast or lunch. Where’s Janey?”

“The Olivers down the block are taking care of Carol and Gretchen. She’s helping.”

As tired as he was, Adam let Hector drive. When they pulled up at the speaker at Sonic, Hector lowered the window. When he finished with the order he mashed the button to put the window up, but it didn’t move. The sound of grinding came from inside the door. Never a good sign.

“Great. One more problem with the car. Can’t close the window on this side.” Hector turned to frown at Adam.

“I had this happen in another car. Grab that edge of the window, the glass you can still see, and pull it up.”

“You had this happen on another car?” Hector shook his head. “Have you even had a car that had all its parts and ran well?” As the waitress skated to the car, he handed her a bill, took the change, and handed it to Adam before taking the food. “And isn’t your father rich? Can’t he buy you a car.”

“I like to make it on my own.”

“Man, you’re crazy. And if you keep driving this car, you’re goin’ to be dead.”

When they’d finished, Hector backed the car out, opened the door, got out, and tugged on the window to close it.

“Remind me not to open it again,” he said when he got inside.

When Adam entered Ouida’s hospital room the next evening, she was alone and snoring. On the windowsill sat a vase of tulips and baby’s breath. A potted plant stood on a shelf.

He didn’t want to wake her up. He reached in his pocket to pull out a card and a pen to write a note.

“Adam?” Ouida mumbled as she opened her eyes.

“Hey.” He took her hand. “I came by to let you know everyone at church is…thinking of you.”

“You can say they’re praying. I don’t mind.” She squeezed his fingers and smiled. “I sent George back home. He’s not comfortable in a hospital.”

George didn’t feel comfortable anyplace away from work, Adam guessed, but he didn’t say that.

“He won’t feel more comfortable at home, either,” she said.

“The girls will be glad to have him around.” He settled in a chair. “How are you feeling?”

“I hurt. Guess that’s expected. They are managing the pain. Even started physical therapy already, moving my fingers around and lifting my arm a little.” She shifted in the bed. “Could you get me a glass of water? Help me drink it?”

That action reminded him how incapacitated she was. Couldn’t even pour or drink water with only one arm. She faced a long rehabilitation. How would George handle that?

“What’s next?” he asked after she’d taken a few sips.

But she fell back to sleep before he’d finished the question.

On the drive home, Adam had to slow down for four or five vultures to fly away from the corpse of a deer in the middle of the highway. Texas offered up a variety of roadkill. Lots of deer, armadillos, and the occasional rabbit, possum, or raccoon.

He gave a sigh of relief and a silent prayer when his old car made it back to the parsonage. He needed a car to drive into Austin without asking Rex to lay healing hands on it before every trip.

Maybe it was time to buy a new car or a less used one, but he had no money. What he had left over from his salary after utilities and food—which had increased about one hundred dollars a month since Hector arrived—went into the little extras for Janey and clothes for Hector, who seemed to grow several inches a week. Adam could see his legs getting longer if he watched for a few minutes.

He’d allowed Hector to drive Old Blue around town, but, for the kid, this was a strictly inside-the-city-limits vehicle. Yes, Adam needed to put aside a little bit, save fifty dollars per paycheck. But fifty dollars a month added up to only six hundred dollars in a year. What kind of car could he buy with that?

That Sunday after the service, Adam stood in front of the church and watched the cars pass on the highway. Janey had gone back to the parsonage while Hector had sprinted out with Bobby to change and hit the basketball court.

Those kids had a lot more energy than Adam. Driving back and forth to visit an improving but frustrated Ouida, working with the Widows to make sure the girls were okay, and attempting to do the other church work and come up with the passable sermon had worn him out. He wanted nothing more than a good nap.

Well, one thing more. He also wanted to avoid Sam. Sounding more and more like a matchmaker, Sam had asked him about Gussie as he left church. When Adam saw Sam’s car still in the parking lot, he started to run toward the parsonage.

“Hey, Preacher.”

The voice didn’t surprise him. He’d heard Sam’s uneven footsteps behind him as well as the sibilant sounds of the boys shushing each other, but it did foil his escape.

“I thought if I ignored you, you’d go away,” Adam said, still keeping his back to Sam. Sort of like magical thinking. Didn’t work.

“Let’s talk about Gussie.”

Adam took a few steps away.

“Okay, now I understand why you didn’t take advantage of that week of camp. You weren’t there, but buddy, what are you doing now?” Sam moved to stand in front of Adam and studied him as a marine captain would scrutinize a raw recruit.

Adam should’ve known Sam was unignorable. As an ex-​marine, he homed in on his objective and kept up his attack until the target had been won.

“Tell me something, Adam. Have you ever dated a woman?”

“Of course I have. I was even engaged.” He deked and took a step toward the parsonage, but Sam’s voice and his smoothly executed military turn cut off that route.

“Tell me about them. How many, when?”

“Ummm.” Adam thought back over the past ten years. “Not that many. A couple of girls in high school, a few in college, then I asked Laurel to marry me when we graduated.”

“What happened with this Laurel?”

“She didn’t want to marry a minister. Said she wasn’t into teas and good works.”

“And the others? Did you have to pursue them?”

“No, we were friends first, then began to date.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t know a thing about courting a woman?”

“No, they always just threw themselves at me.”

Sam’s glare told Adam both that he didn’t believe those words and that humor did not fit here.

“All right,” Adam confirmed. “I know nothing about this. I dated women I already knew and was attracted to and comfortable with.”

“Then we’re starting with the basics.” Sam straightened. Not that Adam had seen his posture sag in the least, but he’d pulled himself up so he looked even taller and tougher. “Welcome to boot camp for the romantically challenged.”

No escape. The parking lot had emptied out. Willow waited in the car, reading. Even Leo and Nick had headed toward the grass behind the parking lot. Looking for dead animals, maybe. Not that any of that family’d be of assistance in any way. Adam bet they didn’t interfere or interrupt when Sam addressed the troops.

“Phase one: If you don’t have a plan,” Sam lectured, “you cannot execute it. Phase two: If you want Gussie, you can’t be some passive grunt who lets life go past him. Take action. Man up.”

“Man up,” Nick shouted from the lawn. Sam glanced at his sons, pointed, and watched the kids move several yards farther away before he turned his iron gaze back at Adam.

“Yes, sir,” Adam said, but he refused to stand at attention, even though that’s what Sam’s voice and posture demanded.

“I don’t care what you do or what your plan is, but you have to get started. Take charge. Boot camp is over.” With that, Sam turned, motioned toward the kids, and all three marched toward the yellow Mustang. Adam almost saluted.

After they drove off, Adam was left alone in the parking lot. He knew Sam was right. He walked back toward the parsonage contemplating the situation. What to do? How to approach this relationship problem?

Maybe he should pick up a copy of a men’s magazine and read a few articles, but he thought of at least two arguments against that. To preserve anonymity, he’d have to drive all the way into Austin. Butternut Creek’s only bookstore consisted of a rack at the H-E-B. At the bookstore in Marble Falls, those kind of magazines were kept behind the counter and had to be requested. If he went there, he was sure to run into someone who knew him and would spread news of his purchase all over the county. Ministers didn’t and shouldn’t read racy magazines was the consensus of parishioners.

Second, many—okay, all—of those magazines were way too steamy for him, past his depth. He wasn’t looking for pointers on how to…well, those activities covered in risqué magazines were written for people with far more experience than him.

Maybe he’d look for help online.

That evening, he searched for “What do women want?” The experience both amazed him and opened his eyes to another world. He discovered women wanted many things he’d never thought they’d openly discuss.

Then he Googled “How to get the woman you want.” The first topic he explored listed ways to get a woman into bed within fourteen minutes of meeting her. Not what he was looking for. Finally he found a couple of very helpful lists and made notes. He pondered the pages, reread them, underlined a few ideas, and put stars in the margin on others. Oh, Sam might tell him to man up, and he was fixin’ to, once he decided exactly how to do that.

But first he had to drive to Austin.

Wednesday morning, Adam and Blossom and her housekeeper, Evelyn, knocked at the Kowalskis’ front door. When George opened it, his hair stood straight up, almost as if he were a punk accountant—if such people even existed—who’d used too much gel.

“Good morning.” He opened the door and waved them inside.

“Did you get much sleep?” Adam asked.

“Oh, a few hours. After Carol finally fell asleep about midnight, I slept until Gretchen got in my bed at, oh, maybe four thirty.”

“She probably wanted some attention,” Adam said. “Having her mother away from home is frightening for a child.”

“No, she wanted breakfast. I convinced her to wait and she fell asleep.” He paused. “I’m not certain, but I may have promised her a puppy to get her to let me sleep. The kids have wanted a puppy forever.”

“Puppies can be messy,” Blossom said.

George sighed. When he did, Adam wanted to shout,
Man up
. He didn’t, of course. Wouldn’t be neighborly or Christian, and he couldn’t carry it off like Sam, but George needed to take control of the situation.

A judgment easily made by a man with no children.

With a glance at Adam as if she’d read his mind, Blossom said in a voice as soothing as a pat on the hand, “George, let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee.”

“I don’t know where it is,” George mumbled. “There is no order to the way Ouida stores things. If I’d planned the kitchen, I’d put it over the coffeemaker, but…”

“I have some, a lovely blend from Costa Rica.” She pulled a thermos from her purse and headed to the kitchen with George following like a puppy.

But the man wasn’t a puppy and he needed to…okay, maybe for now, for a few minutes, he needed to be treated like a puppy because finding his wife in a heap had been a shock. He’d been taking care of the children and the house for only two days.

Still, he should have adapted by now. Shouldn’t he? But, no, as Miss Birdie had said, they’d all coddled George. That was why Blossom had come. She excelled at coddling, and George had begged Adam never to set Miss Birdie loose on him again.

However, with Ouida being released soon from the hospital to the nursing facility a few blocks away, George would have to perform the tasks ahead of him. Even when she came home, she’d be laid up for eight weeks. Blossom couldn’t pamper him forever.