Lone Star Holiday

Maggie grabbed the bowl and headed to the grill, ordering Lorrie Ann to make the tea while rubbing Celeste’s head. A few breaths later, a knock on the door announced the arrival of John and Rachel.

“Hello?” John walked through the screen door then stood with his back holding it open and flashed a grin. “She insists on walking without my help.”

The sound of Rachel’s shuffling feet and the thump of the crutches came with agonizing slowness as they waited for her to make an appearance. When she finally made it to the door, John reached out to help her over the threshold.

“I have it, Daddy.” With an awkward movement, she adjusted the crutch and managed to step up as her tongue stuck out in concentration.

John turned his face to Lorrie Ann, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She can be a bit stubborn.” He shot her a wink. “Gets it from her mom.”

Celeste scooted a red step stool by the sink and started pulling out plates from overhead. “I’m stubborn, too, just like Mom. Grandpa says so.”

“Celeste, get down from there! Wait until I can help you.” One of John’s hands stayed on the door as he tried to reach for his younger daughter with the other.

Lorrie Ann moved to Celeste. “Here, let me help you.”

“Rachel always sets the table, but now I get to do it.” The stack of thick milk-glass plates wobbled over her head.

Lorrie Ann reached up behind her to balance the plates and lower them to the counter.

Rachel twisted toward her father. “She can’t do my job.”

“Rachel, she just wants to help.” His large hand covered her entire shoulder. “With the crutches, how would you carry the plates?”

“How about setting the silverware?” Lorrie Ann pointed to the table. “The basket’s already there.”

“Thanks,” John whispered close to her ear as he walked past her to help Celeste carry plates and glasses. “I see you’re back to your L.A. gear and artificial height?”

Standing in the kitchen with John, her decision to change made her feel shallow. She gave him the same weak line. “I wanted to wear something special for my first family dinner.”

With his arms braced behind him, John leaned against the sink and watched the girls set the long table. “You looked nice this morning.”

She shrugged and flipped another tortilla.

“Oh, you look so pretty, Miss Yolanda,” Rachel suddenly called out.

Lorrie Ann turned and saw the perfect example of feminine refinement walk into the kitchen. Her cousin wore a soft green dress with a faint floral print. It swirled around her knees and complemented the low-heeled sandals on her feet. Her thick brown hair now floated in waves just below her shoulders. Lorrie Ann straightened her spine and repeated her mantra, Smile, stand tall, fake it if you have to.

“Daddy, I want to dress up!” Celeste jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Can I have some pirate boots like Miss Lorrie Ann?”

He laughed as he caught the six-year-old up in his arms. “I’m not sure a ranch is the best place for pirate boots.”

Yolanda opened the cabinet door next to John. “L.A. did always love costumes.”

Lorrie Ann felt like growling as she watched her cousin bat those incredibly long lashes at John. Instead, she repeated her mantra a few more times.

Yolanda continued in her soft Texas drawl, “Good evening, Pastor John. How did the trip to the doctor go today?”

“All went well. It was a clean break.”

Celeste slipped out of his arms and ran off to get the napkins. Turning back to Lorrie Ann, he reached for the sugar as she poured boiling water over the tea bags.

He held out the container for her. “I want to thank you again for keeping Celeste. She went on and on about the plans you had today.”

Taking the sugar from him, Lorrie Ann smiled. “To tell you the truth, I looked forward to it myself.” She looked up and was struck by the gentleness in his light brown eyes. For a moment she studied the gold flakes that radiated warmth. Oh, what had she been saying? “Um...she’s a great kid.”

“Please, let me know if she becomes too much.”

Yolanda came up and laid her hand on his sleeve. “You know I can watch the girls whenever you need help.”

Before he could reply, Aunt Maggie and Uncle Billy brought in the fajitas and grilled vegetables.

“Is the table set? Ice in the glasses?” Maggie set the platter of meat and bell peppers on the table and smiled. “Looks nice, girls.”

“I got the plates and glasses, Aunt Maggie.” Celeste ran from the table to the refrigerator. “I can get the ice, too!”

In a voice too prim for a young girl, Rachel yelled after her sister. “Celeste Rebecca Levi, you need to sit down.” She lowered her voice and squinted. “You’re going to give Daddy a headache.”

John’s rich laughter filled the room as he lightly pulled Rachel close to his side. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I think I’ll survive.”

Uncle Billy got the ice instead. After bringing out the rest of the food, Aunt Maggie sat down next to her husband. “Come on, everyone. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Lorrie Ann reached for her old chair and collided with John’s hand. They both yanked back.

“That’s Daddy’s chair,” Rachel informed her. “He always sits there next to me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, you take it.” His now-familiar grin made her forget about dinner. “We don’t have assigned seating—just creatures of habit.” He looked over at Rachel. “It’s good to shake up our routine.”

Uncle Billy’s gruff voice snapped the air. “Can y’all sit down so I can pray?”

“Yes, sir,” they answered at the same time. She slid a glance to her right and found Rachel glaring at her. To the left, John had his head bowed. Everyone joined hands. The words of her uncle’s prayer slid into her heart. She had missed being part of this family worship.

As soon as the prayer finished, Aunt Maggie jumped right in. “So, Pastor John, have you had any ideas about the Christmas pageant? With Martha out of town, I don’t know how we’re going to get it all done. It is the hundredth anniversary, so it needs to be big.”

Dread slipped through Lorrie Ann. She carefully put her filled tortilla back on her plate. “Aunt Maggie, please don’t.”

“Oh, mija, it’s perfect.” She handed a warm tortilla to her husband, never taking her gaze off John. “What about Lorrie Ann?”

She had to stop her aunt before she went any further. “No way.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think she’s interested, Maggie.” Filling his tortilla with meat and avocado, he shrugged his shoulders. “Vickie said she’d do it.”

Yolanda snorted “Vickie? She’s an awesome seamstress, but organizing and directing? She doesn’t know the first thing about music.”

Lorrie Ann thought of any suggestions she could make. “What about Mrs. Callaway, the high-school drama teacher? I remember her directing the pageant when I sang.”

“That is Martha.” Yolanda made it sound as if she should have known Mrs. Callaway’s first name. “Her sister’s having health problems, so she went to Houston to stay with her.”