Brenda Jackson - Best Laid Plans

“Dad! Look who’s here,” Granite said with excitement in voice.

Jake Madaris smiled at his son. “I see. Nolan, what a nice surprise,” Jake said, leaving the doorway to give his grandnephew a huge bear hug. “What brings you to Whispering Pines in the middle of a weekday?”

Nolan didn’t hesitate in answering. “Mama Laverne.”

Jake, Nolan noted, couldn’t hide the humor in his eyes when he said, “Must be serious.”

“It is.”

There was no need to tell Jake anything. Everyone was still shaking their heads in amazement as to how Mama Laverne had outsmarted Lee and pulled off his marriage to Carly. And everyone knew that he was next on the list.

“Come on in. She’s out back on the patio shelling peas.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

BY THE TIME Ivy was finishing up making the sandwiches, Nana entered the kitchen and said, “Today is a beautiful day. I hope there will be many more like it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Ivy decided to keep her answer short. She really didn’t have much to say by way of small talk until her grandmother explained a few things.

It didn’t take long for Nana to make the tea. Ivy put the plates with the sandwiches on the table. When she’d arrived, she hadn’t thought about eating, but when Nana had mentioned she’d made some chicken salad, Ivy couldn’t prevent her stomach from reminding her she’d missed breakfast. The reminder of why she’d done so brought everything, especially why she was here, back to the forefront.

She waited until Nana was seated and had said grace for the both of them before asking, “Nana, why would you think Nolan Madaris and I would make a good couple?”

“Because you will.”

Ivy shook her head. “No, we won’t. There is nothing about the man that interests me.”

“Then you need to take a second look. I haven’t seen him recently, but last time I looked he was stopping feminine hearts all over the place.”

“Well, he won’t be stopping mine. Nana, you read the newspapers like I do. I’m sure you’re aware every time Nolan’s name appears in print, which is quite a bit. Usually it’s the society column detailing his latest conquest—usually a debutante or some sophisticated lady. I have enough sense to know I am not his type.”

“Of course you are.”

Ivy tried to rein in her temper that had never, ever been directed at her grandmother before. She bit into her sandwich and then took a sip of her tea before asking, “Do you think I’m so lacking that I can’t find anyone on my own, Nana? That you have to invite men to call me?”

“No. And we’re not talking about any man, Ivy. We are talking about a man who I believe will one day be your husband.”

“He will not be my husband. Have you forgotten that I never, ever plan to get married?”

“We will see.”

Ivy couldn’t do anything but stare at her grandmother. She’d never known Helen Chapman to be so illogical. Deciding to try another tactic, she took her grandmother’s hand and said in a softer tone, “Look at me, Nana. Nolan is used to dating real pretty girls. Girls with capital Gs printed on their foreheads for gorgeous. I’m not chopped liver but I know my limitations.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Nana pulled her hand away, picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Then she took a sip of her drink before saying, “The only limitations you have are the ones you place on yourself, Ivy. Regardless of what you think, you are pretty. You are gorgeous. Contrary to what you evidently believe, being smart and intelligent doesn’t make you unattractive.”

“Yes, but it makes me oblivious to stuff most women find important. Like their looks and clothes. I like who I am just fine.”

“And you should. Earlier you asked if I thought you lack something and I told you no. What I didn’t say was that I think because of that Damien fellow, you’re denying yourself a chance to meet a nice guy. One who will think you’re beautiful, both inside and out, and who you’d want to marry.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Even if I was the least bit interested in ever getting married, which I am not, why would I want to marry a man like Nolan Madaris? A better question to ask is why would he want to marry a woman like me?”

“Because you were made for each other. Why can’t you see that?”

“And why can’t you see that we aren’t and that I’m not his type?”

“Quite the contrary. Laverne and I think you and young Madaris are a perfect match.”

A perfect match? She had to be kidding. “Nana, I want you to promise me that you will drop this whole thing. If you only knew how embarrassed I was after going into his office to give him those flowers back, only to discover he hadn’t sent them at all. And then to find out he thought I’d been sending those notes to him. You can’t imagine how humiliated I felt.”

“There was no reason for you to feel humiliated about anything. Our goal was to finally get the two of you to meet and we were successful in doing that.”

Ivy took a sip of her tea. Yes, they’d been successful in achieving that. But she had no intentions of seeing Nolan Madaris again and there was no doubt in her mind he had no intentions of ever looking her up either.

Ivy decided she would no longer argue that point with her grandmother because she could see it would be a total waste of her time. She figured when Nana and Ms. Laverne saw their antics had failed, they would soon realize that as well.

* * *

NOLAN FOUND HIS great-grandmother just where Jake said she would be. On the patio, shelling peas. She looked up the moment he stepped through the French doors, which as far as he was concerned, dispelled the notion that she had a hearing problem. Everyone knew Felicia Laverne Madaris heard just what she wanted to hear.

“Nolan, this is a surprise.”

He doubted it. He had a feeling she’d been expecting him. “Hello, Mama Laverne.” He walked over to her, leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but there’s a reason for my visit.”

She smiled up at him. “Is there?”

He shook his head, thinking she had the gall to look innocent. “Yes.” He slid into an empty chair to face her. As soon as he sat down she shoved a handful of pea pods into his lap, directly onto his pair of Giorgio slacks.

“While you’re here you might as well make yourself useful,” she said.

He drew in a deep breath and began shelling peas. Doing so reminded him of years gone by when she’d made all her great-grandsons do this very thing, the day before their mandatory cooking class with her had started. At the time he’d resented learning how to cook, but now he appreciated her for caring enough to take the time to teach all of them. And there had been so many of his cousins learning at the same time. It had been about more than cooking, though, which he now saw. It had taught them how to get along not only as cousins but to form relationships that were, in most cases, closer than brothers.

To know Mama Laverne was to love her, although at the moment he wanted to strangle her. He would never actually harm a hair on her head. Not a single strand. Not this ninety-something-year-old woman whose hands were a lot older than his, yet moved with a quicker precision than his while shelling peas. Years of experience and a demand of discipline.

She was the reason all seven of her sons had grown up to be God-fearing men. Even after losing her husband, she hadn’t given up. She had been there for her sons, their children and now her sons’ grands. She was the glue that held the Madaris family together. She was the backbone. She had a heart of gold. She thought of others before she thought of herself...maybe too much at times. She was the epitome of a strong woman.