WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Viva La Valentine Edition by D. D. Scott

motion. Jan wanted to warn her to
be gentle or she might destroy the layers, but she reconsidered and
addressed Ruth’s unspoken question.
    “I’ll be forty-seven this year, eleven years
older than Mac.”
    Ruth took a few seconds to compose herself
before she lay the spatula down and revealed her true feelings.
“I’m sorry if I seem shocked, Jan, but Mac didn’t mention your age
difference and, to tell you the truth, I never would’ve guessed.
You look much younger. My son is obviously in love with you. It’s
just that –,” she stopped and seemed to weigh her words carefully.
“It’s just that John and I were looking forward to having
grandchildren. That’s not part of the plan, is it?”
    “Honestly, Ruth? No it isn’t. I’ve been
there, done that and don’t want to go back. Mac understands how I
feel.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that. He’d be a wonderful
father.” The sadness in the older woman’s voice was palpable. A
painful silence lingered between them for a few minutes then Jan
excused herself.
    She found Mac and Grant busily hooking up the
stereo as Pat finished taping colorful plastic tablecloths under
the corners of the long tables arranged around the yard. John
attended to a variety of meats on the grill.
    “Can you take a break for a minute?” she
asked taking Mac by the elbow.
    “I’ve got this,” Grant volunteered. “Go
ahead, man.”
    Jan steered Mac toward the covered swing on
the side of the house, sat and patted the seat for him to sit
beside her.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Your mother and I just had the
talk .”
    “What talk?”
    “The oh my God, you’re eleven years older
than my baby talk.
    “How’d that come up?”
    “She asked me how old my girls are, and one
thing led to another. Now the cat’s out of the bag.”
    “Stop it, Jan. You’re talking like your age
is a CIA secret or something.”
    “Her knowing my age doesn’t bother me. It’s
just that she seemed so disappointed.”
    “Disappointed?” Mac’s face crinkled into an
offended frown. “What could she possibly be disappointed
about?”
    “Grandchildren.” Jan let the word hang in the
air.
    “Oh,” Mac groaned. “I should have known this
was coming.” He put his arm around her and drew her into his chest.
“Don’t let it upset you. She’ll get used to the idea
eventually.”
    “It’s not her I’m worried about, Mac. It’s
you. Your mother is right. You would make a wonderful
father. I don’t want to be responsible for cheating you out of that
chance.”
    “Baby, how many times have we gone over this?
I meant it when I said I want you more than I want kids. What more
can I say to convince you?” Mac rubbed slow circles on her back.
“Don’t let her upset you. She’ll get used to the idea and sooner or
later get over it.”
    “Maybe.” Jan glanced up at the kitchen window
where Ruth was watching them. “Maybe not.”
    The guests began streaming onto the
Sinclair’s property right around Noon. Each one carried a pan or
bowl of something and gradually the food tables groaned under their
weight. Grant served disk jockey and cranked up the sound system as
loud as he could without getting the evil eye from his father.
Several of the younger guests ordained the patio as the official
dance floor. Most of the older men watched the girls dance and
congregated around a makeshift bar where one of Mac’s uncles served
as bartender. The older women found seats in the shade of the
cottonwood trees dotting the property eyeing their husbands
pretending they weren’t eyeing the girls. Mac introduced Jan to a
myriad of boisterous, friendly aunts, uncles, cousins and
neighbors, none of whose names she’d remember once the day was
over. Jan felt at ease even when one of Mac’s cousins made a big
fuss over her engagement ring.
    “Ooh, will y’all look at this rock! What are
you trying to do Mac, give Jay-Z a run for his money?” she shouted.
The entire female contingency of guests crowded