Finding Home

Chapter Seven

         “I don’t think you have one acceptable thing to wear,” Kayla lamented, rummaging through Deborah’s clothes.  They had been folded nicely and placed in the hotel shelving, but now they were strewn about.  “I wish I would have known this when we were at the mall.”
         “It’s just The Pub,” Deborah replied.  “Why can’t I wear my jeans and my turtleneck?”
         “A turtleneck?  A turtleneck?”  Kayla grabbed Deb by the shoulders and gave a moderate shake.  “This is a bachelorette party, not a hike through the woods.”
         “It’s twenty-degrees outside, if that.  And, it’s only going to get colder.”
         “That’s what coats are for.  It’ll be hot inside once the dancing starts!”
         “Dancing?  There’s going to be dancing?”
         Kayla giggled.  “Of course.  Haven’t you ever been to a bachelorette party?”
         “No.  Aren’t you barely twenty-one?”
         “Yup,” Kayla replied, surveying a grey silk blouse.  “I went to El’s bachelorette party though.”
         “Well, we’re not going to make it to Georgia’s if you don’t let me wear something.”
         “Don’t worry, Becca should be here any minute with some reinforcement items.”
         “Reinforcement items?  What the hell does that mean?”
         Kayla laughed and it sounded like pure evil to Deborah’s ears.  “Don’t worry, Becca won’t let me make you over too much.”
         “That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.”
         At the knock on the door, Kayla skipped over to answer it.  Deborah laid back on the bed unable to help feeling a little giddy.  She supposed this was what it was like to have sisters.  She couldn’t have been happier.
         “Whoops, not who I was expecting,” Kayla called.  “You have a visitor.”
         Deborah didn’t like the way Kayla said visitor.  Suspiciously, she got up and walked to the hallway.  Kyle stood in the doorway looking ruffled and ridiculously gorgeous in ratty jeans and a faded t-shirt.
         “Hi.”
         “Hi.”
         Kyle chuckled.  “Kayla, you’ve really got to teach your cousin to be more chatty.”
         “I’m working on it,” Kayla offered with a flirtatious smile.
         “I just came by to see if you’d looked over the material.  I didn’t mean to interrupt.  I’ll come back another time.”          
         “Fine.”
         “Wait!  Stay, Kyle,” Kayla said, grabbing his arm. 
         “What?” Deborah replied, having to hold herself back from indulging in the urge to wring Kayla’s neck.
         “We need a male opinion.”
         “Like hell we do,” Deborah shot back.  “You can go, Kyle.”
         “Don’t be ridiculous, Deborah,” Kayla persisted as Becca walked into the room. 
         “I don’t mind,” Kyle said with a satisfied grin.
         When Deborah only scowled at him he winked.
         “Uh oh, what did I just walk into?” Becca asked, tossing a duffle bag onto the bed.
         “Me getting ready to murder your sister,” Deborah muttered loud enough so that only Becca could hear.
         “Ah, I see.”
         Kayla closed the door firmly.  “Kyle’s just going to give us a male opinion.  Go sit over there, Kyle.”
         “Just go with it,” Becca said, offering a sympathetic pat on Deborah’s shoulder.  In a lower voice, Becca continued, “she won’t let go.  Besides, you get through this, you may just prove there’s nothing to the you and Kyle rumor.”
         “How can there be a rumor when I’ve barely spoken to the guy?”
         Becca merely grinned.  “Trust me.”
         “Fine.”
         “Luckily you’ve got about the same build as me,” Kayla chattered.  “I can tell you we wouldn’t have much better luck with Becca’s wardrobe.”
         “You can’t force me to wear something I don’t want to wear.”
         Kayla smiled sweetly.  “Like hell I cant.  Outfit number one,” she offered, tossing some clothes towards Deb.  “Go change in the bathroom.”
         Sparing Kyle a fleeting killing look, Deborah turned on her heel and went to the bathroom.  She supposed this too was like having sisters, and she didn’t like it.
         She put on the top, a turquoise frilly thing that plunged even further than the dress she had bought for the wedding.  Surveying the flimsy skirt, she kept her own jeans on and stepped out of the bathroom.
         “I am not wearing a skirt.  I may have very little choice in this, but I am not wearing that,” Deborah said, tossing the skirt back at Kayla with a bit more force than needed.
         “Ow, ow… Hot mama.  I love it, Deb.”
         Sighing, Deb looked back down at the shirt.  “I don’t know…”
         “It looks good,” Becca said. 
         “Kyle?” Kayla asked.
         His only response was a low whistle that made Deborah blush.
         “We have a winner.  I wont even make you try on the other choices.”
         “Fine.”
         “Now, what about makeup?”
         “What about we leave, make sure everything is ready at The Pub like good little bridesmaids and then go pick up G.  Okay?” Becca said, steering Kayla towards the door.
         Kayla pouted but, giving one last look at Kyle, gave up.  “All right.  We’ll see you there, Deb.  No rush.  You know, you and Kyle can stick around for a while and-”
         “Bye Deb, bye Kyle,” Becca offered, cutting Kayla clean off as she dragged her out of the room.
         Deborah tried to fight the smile and the amusement and hold on to the irritation, but she failed.
         “Why don’t you always wear stuff like that?”
         “You know, I’m very busy.  The door is that way.”
         He chuckled, standing so that they were face to face.  “Get a chance to look over the stuff?”
         She angled her chin, but couldn’t hold his gaze as she lied.  “No.”
         “Liar,” he said on a laugh.  “So, need an escort to this shindig?”
         “You don’t take escorts to bachelorette parties.”
         Kyle shrugged, the cocky smile never leaving his face, but his expression was more intense than usual.  She didn’t like it. 
         “So, what about weddings then?  We were invited separately, but we could go together.”
         “Or not.”
         Not faltering for a second, Kyle continued to keep his gaze firmly on hers.  “Well, then what about lunch tomorrow?”
         “I’m not going out with you, Kyle.  Give up.”
         “I don’t want to give up.”  With the lightest of touches, he rubbed his thumb across her chin.
         She tried to ignore the heat that flushed outward from the center of her, leaving her heartbeat just a little unsteady.  “Well, you should.”
         He shook his head, his gaze now on her lips, making the flush heat even more. 
         “I don’t plan on it.  Eventually, you’ll give in.”
         The words ‘not likely’ had been on her lips, but just as she opened her mouth to say them, he took a step closer.  She wanted to back away, but couldn’t quite complete the motion.
         “Look, Kyle,” Deborah began, swallowing against her dry throat.  “I should get going.”
         “Yah.”
         But she didn’t find herself moving and just barely making contact, he brushed her hair behind her shoulder.  “Have lunch with me on Sunday.”
         She may have felt unsteady.  She may even admit the attraction she felt at this moment was a little intense, but she still had the presence of mind not to go out with him.  “To discuss business?”  Or not.
         Kyle grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.  “Sure.”
         “Fine.  Noon at the diner?”
         “Yup.”
         “Fine.  Now, I really need to go.”
         He nodded, the grin never leaving that stupid attractive face of his.  Slowly, taking his time, he took a step away from her.
         Finally, she felt in control enough to move away and gather her things.  “I’ll see you Sunday.”
         “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding first.”
         “Oh, you’re invited?’
         He chuckled.  “I already mentioned that, Deb.  My whole family.  Remember my mom and Laney are friends.”
         “Oh, yah.  Well, I guess I might run into you then.”
         “I’ll make sure of it,” Kyle said with a wink.
         “Bye,” Deborah said firmly, practically pushing him to the door.
         “Bye,” he said cheerily, walking out the door and whistling down the hallway.
         “Crap,” she muttered to herself.  She couldn’t have just said no and been done with it?  No, she had to use a flimsy business excuse that she knew wouldn’t fly with the gossipers or even Kyle, no matter how much he pretended to go along with it.
         
         The Pub was a local Lilac Grove hang out.  Deborah had never been, but she had heard enough about it.  The place was famed for its smallness and cozy charm with just a hint of western cowboy theme.  It served food, but was not known for being good food.  Their Long Island Iced Teas, Deborah had heard, were county famous.
         Tonight, the place was decorated in loud, gaudy streamers, signs and even caution tape that read “Wild Girls Partying!” in silvery pink letters.  It all fit Georgia Kapshaw to a tee.
         Becca and Kayla, the two of-age bridesmaids, were greeting people at the door and directing them to the small group of milling people at tables in front of a small little stage that often held local bands—including Logan and Evie’s high school band that was allowed to play after school some days.
         As Deborah tried to brush past them, Kayla grabbed her arm. 
         “Not so fast!  More family to meet as soon as she gets here.  She’s a cousin from the one side you haven’t met yet—Steven and Alex’s kids.”
         “Okay.”
         “So, for now you can stay up here and help greet.”
         “Where’s Georgia?”
         “She’ll be making a grand entrance as soon as everyone gets here.  We’re only waiting on Miranda, that’s our cousin, and then Lilly some girl Georgia used to play soccer with.”
         “Okay.”
         “So… did you and Kyle have a nice chat?”
         Eyes narrowed, Deb crossed her arms across her chest.  “No.  He left right after you did.  No conversation involved whatsoever.”
         Kayla pouted.  “Spoilsport.”
         “You’re ridiculous.”
         “I’m trying to help you out.  Kyle’s hot.”
         “I don’t really care.” 
         “You don’t care that he’s hot?”
         “Nope.”
         “Not at all?”
         “Not at all.”
         “I just don’t understand that.  Hot, nice, job, what else could you possibly want?”
         “I don’t want anything.  I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”          
         “But that’s usually when they pop up,” Kayla said cheerfully.  “When you’re not looking for one.”
         “Oh look, someone’s coming,” Deborah said, rolling her eyes and pointing towards the door.
         A young woman smiled, shrugging off her coat.  Deborah scowled noticing the woman’s jeans and turtleneck sweater.
         “Kayla Kapshaw, you’re dead.”
         Kayla giggled.  “Typical Miranda.  Don’t worry, if she would have gotten here sooner I would have made her change too.”
         “Hi, girls,” Miranda greeted, adjusting her small wire-rimmed glasses.
         “Hey, Miranda.  Georgie will be so happy you could make it,” Becca greeted.  “And, this is Deborah, our cousin.”
         Miranda smiled cordially.  “Nice to meet you.  My family is so excited about meeting you at the wedding tomorrow.  We’ve heard so much about you from Aunt Laney and Grandma Kapshaw.”
         “Oh, that’s... good.”
         “Deb’s a little mad at me because I wouldn’t let her wear jeans and a turtleneck and then you walk in wearing just that.”  Kayla smiled sweetly, but to Deborah it looked devious.
         Miranda laughed.  “Why do you think I picked such a late flight?  No way in hell I was getting roped into a Kay Kay makeover.”
         Deb couldn’t help but smile at her prim new cousin.  “I’ll know for the next time.”
         “All right, there’s Lilly, our last guest to arrive.  I’m going to go get, G,” Becca announced.  “You girls go mingle and Kayla get ready on stage,” Becca ordered.
         Miranda and Deborah found a table together while the other two Kapshaw sisters got ready to start the bachelorette party.  In Miranda, Deborah found a kindred spirit.  The woman was twenty-three and already in a doctorate program for history.  She was studious, serious, and shared Deborah’s distaste for makeovers, revealing clothing, and relationships. 
         “All right, folks, your attention please!” Kayla spoke into the microphone on stage.  “Take a look stage left to the soon-to-be Mrs. McCalister!”
         Georgia came on to the stage looking somehow chic and fun in a pair of skintight jeans and a bright blue sparkly t-shirt that read “bride to be.”  She wore a bright pink headband with a cute short white veil.  She waved to the small crowd of fifteen or so that were cheering and making catcalls at her.  As she walked across the stage, you could barely notice the limp.  Deborah imagined that Georgia was trying very hard to create that illusion.
         “Good evening everyone,” Georgia greeted, obviously in her element.  “I just want to let you all that we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, but I do have to set some ground rules.”  She smiled winningly at the crowd.  “Okay, just one rule: everyone is required to get drunk!”
         The crowd cheered and clapped while Deborah and Miranda exchanged unsure glances.
         “I may give El a pass since she’s got a baby at home, but I’ll be watching the rest of you.  Other than that, have fun and help me enjoy this last night of female freedom!”
         The crowd cheered again as Georgia walked down off the stage and into the crowd of family and friends.
         It was the most fun Deborah could remember having in the longest time.  She tried to avoid the drunkenness that Georgia had proclaimed to all of them, but Georgia had not been kidding and was always there with a new drink.  Deb was not a regular drinker, so it did not take long to have her feeling woozy and laughing all too easily at the silliest of things.  By the time games and gift opening was over, Deb and Miranda were using each other for very unsteady support.
         “All right girls, time to round up and start the long walk home,” Kayla announced, stumbling over her own feet as she walked towards the door.  “El’s house first, then the hotel for most of you, then Bec’s apartment!”
         The crowd clumsily pulled on coats and halfheartedly wrapped up in scarves.  Laughter and stumbles filled the air as the group walked to their various destinations, dropping different partygoers off along the way.
         Before Deb knew it she was standing in front of Becca’s apartment.
         “Hey wait,” she said, feeling herself slur a little.  The cold was sobering her up, but she still had a ways to go.  “Shouldn’t I have stayed at the hotel?”
         “Oh, yah, me too,” Miranda chimed in, looking around as though her head weighed a great deal more than her neck muscles could control.
         “You girls are staying with us,” Georgia said, putting her arms around their shoulders.  “It’s a Kapshaw drunk girls slumber party.”
         “Fun,” Miranda noted, before leaning over and vomiting in the grass.  “Whoops.”
         “We plied Miranda with a wee bit much alcohol,” Becca said, trying to act sober as she tripped over her words.
         Kayla laughed as Becca finally got the door opened and the drunken group clomped into the tidy apartment.  Once inside, Deborah sank onto the couch and presently passed out.