Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [38]
The other two looked at her with interest. “What does he say?” Lindsay wanted to know.
And Cici teased, “Does he tell you how cute you are?”
Bridget made a wry face. “Mostly he just wants recipes.”
“Typical man.”
“No,” corrected Lindsay. “A typical man would want you to cook them for him.”
Bridget rocked thoughtfully. “Do you ever think about getting married again?”
Cici laughed. “Who, me? Are you kidding?”
“I used to,” Lindsay said. “But the older I get, the more ...” She searched for the right word. “Pointless it seems.” She glanced at Bridget. “How about you?”
Bridget smiled. “I adored Jim, and we had a wonderful marriage. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. But doing it again? I honestly can’t imagine.”
“The truth is,” observed Cici, “if men ever figured out how superfluous they are, I think the human race would be in a lot of trouble.”
“Well,” Lindsay said, “superfluous might be a little strong. I mean, they’re really good at opening jars.”
“And killing bugs,” added Bridget.
“And working a jackhammer,” Cici said, thoughtfully, and the three of them chuckled.
“God, how did we get so cynical?” Cici sighed. “When did the wedding become the best part of a marriage?”
“If this wedding is the best part of Traci’s marriage,” said Bridget somberly “I already feel sorry for the groom.”
“I think,” Lindsay said thoughtfully after a time, “being married is all about being in balance. I know men are from Mars, and all that, and if you sit down and make a list of what they’re good for, the list is pretty short...”
“Painfully short,” said Cici.
“Excruciatingly short, for some,” Bridget clarified, trying to look serious, and they all burst into giggles. Lindsay threw part of a cookie at her and Bridget ducked.
“I was trying to make a point,” Lindsay declared archly, when they had sobered somewhat.
“I actually agree with you,” Cici said, and the other two looked at her in surprise. “The truth is, even if he’s perfectly useless there’s something about having a man around that makes you feel safe. As though, whatever happens, someone’s got your back. That’s his job. And when someone’s got your back, you’re a lot more likely to put yourself out there, to reach higher, to accomplish more. That’s why people get married. Because they’re more together than they could be apart.”
“I always feel as though you girls have got my back,” Bridget said softly.
Lindsay nodded. “Me, too.”
And Cici said, smiling, “Yeah.”
For a time there was no sound but the muffled creak of rockers, and the occasional trill of a cricket. Inside the house, evening settled its gentle yellow glow. Outside, the day was reluctant to depart.
Cici said, “Lori won’t be home this weekend. So it looks like you’re stuck with Lindsay and me as your sous chefs.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing I suppose,” Bridget replied, and she glanced around uneasily before adding, “Now all we have to do is find a way to get Ida Mae out of the kitchen. Frankly, these days she’s more of a hindrance than a help.”
“I know what you mean,” Lindsay agreed, sotto voce. “I have to go behind her and clean what she’s already cleaned.”
“I was up at four thirty this morning doing laundry.” Cici leaned forward to make herself heard, speaking very softly. “After she ruined two pairs of jeans and a sweater with bleach last week, I have to stay ahead of her.”
They were quiet for a time. Then Bridget said, “We’re just spoiled, you know. Before Ida Mae came we took care of the house and the cooking by ourselves. We don’t have any reason to complain now.”
“I know,” Cici agreed. “The problem is that I’ve gotten used to her in the background, making meals, doing the dishes, running the vacuum, doing the laundry. We all have. And all the time I used to spend doing those things I’m now spending building trellises for the vineyard, or painting the house, or—”
“Teaching art classes,” Lindsay volunteered.
“Or making wine jams,” Bridget