Authors: Gayle Roper
Dan took the popcorn from her and snapped the lid on. He rested his arms on the railing beside her and waited to see if she’d say more. He counted fifteen waves breaking before she spoke.
“I think a lot of my problem comes from being the youngest. The brothers were always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, teasing me, making my life fun and miserable in equal measures. And they were always so big!”
Dan imagined a little blond girl, ponytail flying, trying to keep up with the big boys, trying to measure up to their standards.
She wrapped her hands around the railing and leaned back, her arms stretched straight. “We were all athletic, playing any sport we could. I was one of the first girls to play in the local Little League. The brothers always told me I was as good as the boys my age or better.” She shrugged. “That was true most of the time because I was always so big, so developed, especially in junior high where the girls mature faster than the guys.”
Now Dan saw a lithesome blonde, legs stretching to the sky, racing down a basketball court, shooting over the heads of the short guys and barreling over the slight ones.
“I hated being so big.” Again, if Dan hadn’t been listening carefully, the words would have been lost, this time in the muted roar of the sea. “If I’d been thin like a model, it might not have been so bad, but I was built then like I am now.”
“What’s wrong with the way you are now?”
She slanted her eyes at him but didn’t answer.
“I happen to like the way you are now,” he said. “I probably would have liked the way you were then, even if I’d needed a stepladder to talk to you.”
“What?”
“I was a runt,” he said. “I hated that. My memory of junior high is turning around and bumping into all the girls’ knees, I was so little.”
Cass stepped back and looked at him in disbelief.
He raised his hand. “True, so help me.”
“Well, you certainly caught up.”
“But not until my senior year in high school. I was five four in September and six two by June. That whole year I never had any clothes that fit, and my legs ached all the time. And I was so skinny they could have put me in one of those pictures for starving children. All I needed was a fly sitting in the corner of my eye. That was undoubtedly the year my mother said I was eating her out of house and home.”
“Did they make fun of you?” she asked in a tone that let him know they’d made fun of her.
“Did they ever.
Runt
was one of the kinder names.”
“BB
was mine.”
He nodded. “Your brother called you that on Sunday. What does it stand for?”
She looked out at the ocean again and cleared her throat before she spoke. “Big Bottom.”
He flinched. “Ouch.”
“Double ouch. My brothers started calling me that when I was about eight. They wouldn’t tell me what it meant for years. They finally confessed when I was thirteen. Thirteen! I was devastated.”
Still are, Dan thought, and he couldn’t blame her. “Next time one of them uses those initials, think of them meaning Beautiful Blonde.”
“Right.” Her tone was dry.
He grinned. “If that won’t work, then tell them to stop.”
Her look was pure incredulity. “My brothers? Stop?”
“Cass, they’re not going to stop seeing you as their little sister until you make them. You’ve got to speak up for yourself.”
She snorted. “A lot you know.” She turned back to the boardwalk and home. “Can I have some popcorn, please?” She took the tub and started walking, the tub tucked under her arm like a football.
He walked beside her, thinking about the intricacies of family.
A
S
THE WEEK
progressed, Cass became so sick of hearing about Derrick she could scream. On the plus side, Jenn seemed to have accepted the restrictions imposed on the date. She smiled a lot, did whatever Cass asked with nary a complaint, and was a genuine pleasure to have around. These signs of what Jenn might become as an adult made all the Derrick gushing bearable.
“Derrick looked so nice today in that bright blue sweater that made his eyes sooo blue,” Jenn burbled as she set the dinner table Thursday. “And he walked me home, Aunt Cassandra! All the way to my corner, and he lives in the opposite direction!”
Cass tried to look properly impressed and was certain she was failing. Jenn didn’t seem to notice, thank goodness.
And Friday evening as she looked at herself in the small mirror hanging on the inside of the door to Cass’s understairs bedroom, Jenn said, “Derrick passed me a note in the hall, and it said I looked pretty today!”
Cass nodded. “You always look pretty, sweetheart.”
Jenn nodded absently as she leaned in to check her impeccable eye makeup. “Thanks, but you’re supposed to say that. You’re my aunt. But Derrick.” The sentence dwindled away as Jenn’s eyes lost focus over thoughts of the object of her affections.
“When do I get to meet this wonderful person?” Cass watched with interest as Jenn blanched.
After a minute of what could only be described as panic, Jenn blurted, “I’ve gotta go up and do my homework. Bye!”
“On a Friday?” Cass called after her.
The bell on the registration desk rang, and Cass put her innkeeper’s welcoming smile back on. She pushed open the door, and there was Dan, luggage in hand, making small talk with the couple waiting to register. He was looking up as he spoke, an experience that must be very unusual for him. The woman was at least four inches taller than his six-four and several pounds heavier. The man was bigger still, though not fat by any means. Just BIG.
“Mr. and Mrs. Patchett,” Dan said to Cass.
The Patchetts smiled sweetly at Cass, their faces open and excited.
“We’ve been looking forward to this weekend for a very long time,” Mrs. Patchett said. “We heard such wonderful things about SeaSong that we waited until we could afford the very best.”
“We’re so glad you can be with us.” Cass returned their smiles, took their credit information, and gave them their keys, all the while disoriented at feeling like a pygmy, and an underfed one at that. “If there is anything we can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Cass pointed to the binder resting on the breakfront in the common room. “That’s the notebook listing all the local restaurants and activities that are open this time of the year.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Patchett said. “Your husband has already been telling us about all the things here in Seaside.” He nodded at Dan who looked only slightly surprised at his elevation to husband status.
Cass smiled through her blush, knowing an explanation of her relationship with Dan would embarrass the Patchetts more than Dan and her. “Yes, he enjoys helping folks.” Besides, how was she to explain a guest who played bellhop?
As the Patchetts turned toward the stairs, Dan looked at her, startled by her comment. “I do?”
“Sure you do,” she said softly. “You’re always helping around here.”
He shook his head like he was having trouble with the idea.
“And I thought I was just bored.”
“Well, there’s no denying that, too, but lots of bored people never help. They gripe. They turn griping into an art form. You don’t gripe. You help. You’ve got the gift of helping.”
He still looked shell-shocked at the thought. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” She grinned. “It means that others weren’t as perceptive as I am.”
He grinned back. “Maybe.” He grabbed the two large duffels and trailed the giants upstairs.
As Cass watched the Patchetts ascend the steps, both of them turning their feet sideways to fit on the treads, she felt something close to panic. These people, nice as they were, were too big for the beds. Even one of them was too big, let alone both of them. All SeaSong beds were queen-sized; none of the rooms was large enough for a king. How would the Patchetts ever fit? How would they ever manage to sleep? How would the beds ever make it through the night?
Reminder: Pray all night that nothing breaks
.
Dan came downstairs, a bemused expression on his face. “I have never as an adult felt so small.”
“Did they like their room?” Cass asked anxiously. “Were they expecting a larger bed? The website says queens. So do the flyers.”
“They seemed very pleased. She said the room was beautiful, even lovelier than the pictures. She sat on the bed and said it was very comfortable.”
Cass shook her head. “Dan, you know I’m sensitive to size, being so big myself, and I’m sure the Patchetts are lovely people, but—”
“You don’t think they’ll fit,” Dan finished for her. “I often have that trouble myself.”
“Yes. That’s it exactly. They’re longer than the bed is. They’re wider than the bed is, especially together.” Another terrible thought crossed her mind. “Will the tub and the toilet hold them? What if they crash through the floor and get hurt? What if their weight somehow causes a water line to rupture? What—”
She slid to a stop for two reasons. Dan was laughing so hard his eyes were tearing, and four weekend guests came through the door. After the Patchetts, they seemed like Lilliputians, though
Cass was fairly certain they were regular-sized people.
Cass felt great relief when she awoke the next morning and realized the Patchetts had passed the night without any unfortunate situations developing. As she prepared breakfast, she made half again as much coffee cake as she’d planned, and she automatically gave the Patchetts two orders each of eggs Benedict drenched in her own famous hollandaise sauce. All through the meal she kept listening for the thunder of a dining room chair giving way, causing a Patchett to tumble. The idea of such an accident upset Cass for several reasons, the primary one being the potential embarrassment or hurt to her oversize guests.
When Brenna reported an empty dining room, meaning breakfast was over, Cass sighed. She collapsed into her own chair for coffee and eggs Benedict with Dan and the kids.
“Only eight more hours,” Jenn said dreamily.
Cass started. She had actually forgotten about Derrick for a time. For that alone, she ought to offer the Patchetts a free weekend.
Brenna looked at Jenn’s fatuous expression. “Jenn, don’t be so obvious. It’s not a good move. Don’t fall into his arms too easily. Let him think he’s got to work for you.”
Don’t fall into his arms at all!
Cass thought as she chewed her last bite of eggs.
Please. I don’t think I could take it. I’m not used to this mothering stuff
.
Jenn looked at Brenna with great interest. “Did you make Mike work for you?”
Brenna nodded. “We were friends for three or four months before I agreed to date him.”
Jenn looked horrified. “Three or four months? That’s forever!”
“Important decisions need time,” Brenna said. “And sometimes you still wonder if you did right.” She said the last quietly and to her plate.
“What?” Jenn squeaked, her acute hearing having no trouble with Brenna’s muttered comment. Her Seaside green and gold fingernail pointed at Brenna. “Of course you did right! I know you did.”
Brenna looked amused. “You do, huh?”
Jenn grabbed Brenna’s hand. “Tell me you’re not thinking of breaking up with Mike. You can’t! He loves you.”
Brenna studied Jenn with interest. “Why do you say that?”
Cass rested her chin in her palm, fascinated by the girls’ conversation. Even Dan awaited the answer to the last question.
Jenn looked stumped for a minute, but only a minute. “He looks at you.”
Brenna leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “He
looks
at me?”
“Yeah, you know. Like he follows you with his eyes.”
Brenna frowned.
“At Aunt Cassandra’s party, whenever you got up from the table, he watched you the whole time. It’s like he can’t let you out of his sight. It’s so romantic! And he’s always touching you, holding your hand, putting his arm around your shoulders, patting your leg.” Jenn sighed. “It’s wonderful.”
More than once Cass felt like rolling her eyes at Jenn’s overly romanticized view of love, but she had to agree that Mike did watch Brenna. He did touch her all the time. That Sunday when the pair had sat in front of her in church, Cass had noticed his preoccupation with Brenna, his attention to her rather than the Word. Did all this caring mean affection or an unhealthy desire to control? Or maybe he was just concerned over her recent melancholy, much as Cass herself was, and he showed it in his own way.
“It’s wonderful,” Jenn repeated dreamily.
Brenna fell quiet at Jenn’s words, her face a study of conflicting emotions. She began to rub her arms like she was chilled in spite of the denim shirt and navy cardigan she wore with her khakis.
Suddenly Dan spoke. “He’s a very nice young man, Brenna, but don’t stay with him if you’re not certain.”
All three females turned to him as one. He looked from one to the other, obviously unnerved by the unanticipated scrutiny. “Well, marriage is forever. If she doesn’t love him, now’s the time to bail.” His voice was mildly defensive.
“But he loves her,” Jenn wailed.
Dan shrugged. “The question is: Does she love him?”
They all turned to Brenna who looked as unnerved under the stares as Dan had.
Cass decided it was time to change the topic before Brenna felt pilloried. “Brenna, I wrote your work assignments down. I think the paper is lying on the counter by the refrigerator.”
Brenna jumped from her chair and hurried to grab the list.
“Start with the Patchetts’ room,” Cass continued. Brenna smiled though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “They’re such nice people. When I served them, they were always thanking me. When they weren’t thanking me or eating, they were staring at each other.”
Jenn bounced with enthusiasm. “Like Mike stares at you! Like I hope Derrick will look at me.”
Cass shuddered at the thought, though she wasn’t against a few such stares for herself from Dan.
“Do you think they’re on their honeymoon or something?” Brenna asked.
“Well, I think they’re just lucky to have found someone their own size,” Jenn said as she grabbed all the dishes from the table, slapped them in the dishwasher, added detergent, and banged the door shut. The muted rush of water into the machine sounded. With a furtive glance at her aunt, she dashed upstairs before Cass could give her any more jobs.