"Are you all right?" Jane asked Prett when he got in the truck.

He expressed momentary surprise. "A little snow never hurt no one." But when Danny jumped in the front passenger seat, he added, "Though I maht quit speaking to him fer hittin' me in the head laike that." Danny laughed. His animosity towards his brother had vanished, and Prett himself seemed cheered after the altercation. Jane shook her head. I don't understand men.

"We need to stop at Wal-Mart first," Prett said as Val pulled the truck away from the house. Danny groaned. "I know, I know, but there's nothin' fer it. GiGi added a copple who need baby thangs. I have a list." Danny turned in his seat with annoyance and signed. "But ye' know it's hard," Prett answered, "to switch back once it's been in mah haid." Danny apparently responded by signing it was now in his head, whatever "it" was. Prett let out a long breath. "Fine. I will speak mainstream." He dropped his hillbilly slang once again. "Just for you, little brother. So you better have gotten me a good gift this year."

"I don't get it," Jane said. "Have you been faking that hillbilly accent?"

Prett hesitated before answering. "No, this is my fake accent. That hillbilly accent, as you call it, is my natural dialect. But I was told repeatedly it made me sound dumb. That I'd never get anywhere in life if I talked like that." His phone pinged, and he pulled it out. "So I learned to fake this mainstream one, to placate the prejudiced elites." He touched the phone screen. "I caved to the pressure. All in the name of conformity."

"Oh." Jane looked at his scruffy beard and long hair sticking out from his wool beanie. Conformity isn't the word I'd use. "So you sometimes speak with–what did Mrs. Gingery call it–mountain talk?"

"When the situation calls for it, yeah."

"What kind of situation calls for it?"

Prett read his text before putting his phone back in his pocket. "Makes it easier to size up new people. They hear me and feel superior. I get to see how superior." He looked at her.

Ouch. He means me. Because of what I said about his choice of clothes and decor? But I didn't mean it that way. Jane turned away from his gaze. I'm not superior. Maybe more refined. More educated. And that cat story. Another way to size me up? So what does he think he knows? She picked at her jacket sleeves. Don't blow this. Or he'll dump me back in the cold.

"It also annoys the heck out of Gavin Turney," Prett added. "I employ it whenever I'm around him. It isn't very Christian of me."

The pickup skidded when Val turned through a curve. Jane gasped, gripping the seat. Val regained control of the vehicle and slowed the speed somewhat. "Are you sure it's safe to be driving right now?" Jane said in a higher pitch than she intended.

"It's safe enough. And Val's the steady one in these conditions. Don't worry. If we slide off and get stuck, I'll help you push." Danny chuckled and Prett said to him, "Laugh it up, Vel. This is all your fault, anyway. You oughta feel guilty for not putting the chains on like I told you to." Danny responded with the double knock, double thumb-to-the-forehead gesture.

"And that's another thing." Jane covered her rattled nerves with irritation. "You told me their names were Val and Val. But it's actually Val and Vel. Cadence told me."

"Well, I stand corrected. I've had it wrong all these years. Who knew? Did you know your name was 'Vel', little brother?" Danny turned around with a shrug, flipping up his palms with mock unawareness.

"Is that another way of sizing me up? Telling me they have the same name?"

"No, it's the truth. They do have the same name."

"Pronounced differently!"

"Which I told you."

"You didn't say that about their nicknames."

"Didn't think I'd need to. Thought you'd hear it."

"But you pronounced them the same; Val."

"You sure about that?"

Jane hesitated. How should I know? I could barely understand that crazy accent! "Cadence said you did it on purpose."

"I don't recall her being at breakfast."

"Probably to trip people up or something. Maybe you think it's funny. She said you aren't trying to be mean."

"I'm flattered you discussed me at all. Did you bring up the topic, or did she?"

Jane colored a little. "Uh, actually I think it was Blair."

"Now I am flattered. Did Bubblegum Barbie even know my name, or just Vel's?"

This is going downhill fast. I don't want to get into what Blair said. The truck slid once more, and though Val again recovered, Jane gripped her seatbelt and returned her focus to the road conditions.

"Ah, Val," Prett said with slight disappointment, "I'd gotten Miss Jane here to forget about the icy conditions."

What? Jane looked at him with consternation. Is he teasing me again?

Val fingerspelled a response. "He's sorry," Prett told her.

She caught Val's eyes in the rear-view mirror. He did look remorseful and concerned. "It's not his fault the roads are icy."

"He's sorry anyway."

"Are you?"

"For what?"

"For misleading me about their names."

"I didn't mislead. You misunderstood."

"I didn't–you said–well it–ugh!" Jane crossed her arms and turned away. I'm not talking to him anymore. And no more doing what he says. Like this ugly snowsuit. What was I thinking? I wish I wasn't here. I wish I hadn't agreed to this. She scowled at her pink-clad forearms. Now you're pouting. Just like that day. Shut up. Am not. She looked out the window. All because you had to miss Rachel's party. Shut up, shut up, shut up! You were so stupid. So selfish. So oblivious. Tears threatened to fill her eyes. Shut up. Stop thinking about it. No. Look at them. These hillbillies. She allowed Prett into her peripheral vision. He'd resumed typing into his phone. If this truck rolled into a ditch, they'd be mourned. No one would mourn you. She turned back to the window. Please shut up.

Val turned onto a highway, this one less tree-lined and more well-traveled. The snow blew across the road instead of accumulating. Jane uncrossed her arms and sat up straighter. Val began to whistle, then turned on the radio. An upbeat pop song filled the cab, and the brothers in front soon nodded their heads in unison with the beat. Prett remained absorbed in his phone.

Don't be a such a pill. He fed you. Be grateful. "So, is Mrs. Gingery your grandmother?"

Prett appeared startled by the question. "No."

"She's awfully friendly for an employer."

"She's just friendly."

Danny turned to sign. "And she knew our grandmother," Prett added, putting his phone away and ignoring Danny.

"Oh. Is that why she's so fond of you? Because she knew your grandmother?"

"I suspect that is entirely the reason she tolerates us."

Jane smiled. "Oh, she more than tolerates you." She glanced at Danny. "She probably wishes she was young again."

Prett caught her look. "You're right there. GiGi has a major crush on my little brother. But then, who among us doesn't?" Danny snorted, shaking his head with a smile. "However, she has a particular reason to moon over him. Apparently he resembles some charming, dashing rake who swept her off her feet eons ago."

"Really?" Jane imagined a young Mrs. Gingery swooning over a young man resembling Danny. But dapper. And clean-shaven. "What happened?"

Prett shrugged. "He died in the end."

"Oh." Wait a minute. "What about in the beginning? And the middle?"

"In the beginning, her father didn't approve. So they eloped."

"How romantic."

"Not so much. They had to run a few states away to escape his wrath."

"Did he chase after them?"

"Nope."

"How long were they married?"

"Till he died."

Jane rolled her eyes. "I mean, how many years were they married?"

"Eight."

"Oh." Not what I expected. "How'd he die?"

"Farming accident."

"How awful."

"Broke her heart."

"I can imagine."

"Left her with five children."

"Five?! In eight years?"

"Shows you how crazy in love they were."

"How did she manage without him?"

He shrugged. "She couldn't. That's why she married the farmer's son soon after. He wasn't nearly so dashing and charming, but he was a solid, stand-up guy."

"Wait, so the first guy wasn't Mr. Gingery?"

"Nope."

"So Mr. Gingery was her second husband?"

"Nope."

"So–" Jane got distracted by Val and Danny, who were now scuffling over the radio. Val had twice switched it to country, but Danny kept setting it back to the pop station. Val scowled with increasing frustration. He switched the station. Danny changed it back. Val changed it again. Danny changed it back and put his hand over the buttons. Val grabbed Danny's wrist and effortlessly pulled it away. Danny winced in pain, but covered the buttons with his other hand.

"Vals!" Prett shouted. "I'll switch it to NPR and none of us'll be happy." Val let go of Danny's wrist, and the latter gave up his radio button defensive to rub it. "Driver picks the station," Prett added, and pulled his phone out again. Val triumphantly pressed the button for the country station but immediately changed it back, for he'd heard the next pop song in the queue: Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy."

Val cranked up the sound, the bass vibrating in Jane's chest. He rocked his head to the beat, and stroked Danny's sleeve, who yanked his arm away. Val tugged the hair on Danny's cheek. He was again rebuffed. Val tried to caress Danny's head, but the latter grabbed his wrist and tossed his arm away. They had a brief signing exchange, which Val concluded with an air kiss. Danny burst into laughter. He raised his hands, moving his head and shoulders in a hokey dance to the music while lip-syncing. Prett had been watching the interaction, and at this latest, he shook his head, sighed, and resumed focus on his phone.

Danny quit dancing and searched the glove box, the center console, and the overhead bins, retrieving three pairs of sunglasses. He put on one, handed another to Val, and dangled the third in front of Prett by reaching his arm backwards over the headrest. Prett ignored him at first, but Danny kept jiggling the sunglasses till Prett gave in and slid them on. Jane smirked. Judging by their grins, Val and Danny took her amusement as a sign of approval. Prett shook his head, his expression impassive.

The song ended and a commercial started. Danny lowered the sound and switched to the country station. Jane said to him, "If you cut your hair, Vel, would you look more like Mrs. Gingery's first husband? He probably didn't have a beard."

"You're right about that," Prett said at the same time Danny turned in his seat. He fingerspelled, and Prett interpreted. "He says, 'Danny.' "

"What?"

"Apparently he still wants you to call him Danny."

"Not Vel?"

Danny shook his head, curling the thumb and fingers of his right hand with his index finger pointed up and hopped it three times in the palm of his left. "Nope," Prett said. "Danny."

"But everyone else calls you 'Vel.' Or 'Velentinny.' Don't they?"

Prett interpreted Danny's reply. "He says you're special."

Danny smirked before facing forward again. "Oh, okay." Is that really what he said? "So," Jane said to Prett, "I get why you call Blair 'Bubblegum Barbie.' But why did you call Holly, 'Holly Golightly?' "

"Nothing to do with the movie character. It just fits her. Or did, anyway. She just..." He shrugged and stared at his phone screen. "Always lit up a room. All sunshine and flowers. Till she married The Letch." He paused, saying softly, "Broke our hearts when she did that. Now she's a fragment of herself."

I didn't notice anything like that. She was a little sad when she greeted Prett, but Danny cured her of that quick enough. "Is she related to Mrs. Gingery?"

"Her step-granddaughter."

"Oh. So Mrs. Gingery's husband already had kids?"

"Her last two did."

"Her last two?! How many husbands did she have?"

"Just the four."

"Four! Did they all die?"

"Yeah. We've forbidden her to marry again, black widow that she is."

"What happened to them? I mean, how did they die? Farming accident for the first one..."

Prett twitched his head. "A rain of bullets for the second."

"Bullets!"

"Omaha Beach. Normandy."

"Oh."

"Number three was stabbed to death."

"Stabbed? Why?"

"A client discovered he'd been swindled out of his fortune and his wife."

"Swindled?"

"Yeah. Turns out husband number three was a womanizing shyster. His specialty was seducing young, pretty housewives, then blackmailing them. Though he also dabbled in various pyramid schemes. His nefarious ways eventually caught up to him."

"How awful."

"The worst part for GiGi was fending off lawsuits from victims after his death."

"I almost hate to ask about husband number four."

"Don't be. Number four was the attorney she hired. He stayed alive the longest. In fact, he was married to GiGi more years than the first three put together. But his heart eventually gave out, and he died in his sleep. He was ninety-four."

"Good. I mean, at least he had a long life. Was he Mr. Gingery?"

"Yeah. Holly's grandfather."

Jane sighed and leaned back in her seat. Love and marriage four times. I can't even manage it once.

The endless flat prairie outside was finally broken by warehouses and buildings, the first signs of a return to civilization. "Tomorrow's her birthday?"

"Yep."

"How old will she be?"

"She's celebrating the second anniversary of her first century."

"What?"

"A hundred two."

"One hundred two?!"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's just...wow. She's amazing for a hundred two."

"She intends to outlive us all."

"Well, she outlived four husbands."

"And all nine of her children."

"Nine? I thought there were five."

"Those were her first batch. She had nine total."

"And they're all dead?"

"Yeah. Some died young." Prett shrugged. "None lived to see her turn a hundred."

"That's so sad."

"It is what it is."

Jane went silent. How painful. Maybe being single isn't so bad. "She must have a lot of grandchildren."

"Not anymore."

"Don't tell me they're all dead, too?!" Prett shrugged without comment. "Does she have any family left?"

"Some great-grandchildren. And a slew of step-children, step-grandchildren, and step-great-grandchildren."

"Like Holly."

"Yeah."

"What about Blair?"

"What about her?" Prett asked.

"How is she related?"

"A step-great-granddaughter."

"Cadence?"

"No relation."

"You hired her to take care of Mrs. Gingery?"

"Yeah."

"Are you part of her step-family?"

"No."

"How come you're so involved with her affairs?"

Prett shrugged. "Cause she hired me."

"But why you?"

He twitched his head. "Why not me?"

"Well, because I...well...I just find it odd, is all."

"You find the situation odd, or you find me odd?"

He still wore his shades, which made it impossible to read his face. "Both." She smiled sweetly. Danny snickered.

Prett gave a nod and turned his head away. "Least I know where I stand."

Jane's smile faded. I hurt his feelings. Apologize. But Val parked the truck in Wal-Mart's vast lot, and the men exited before she had a chance. Val opened her door, and she accepted his hand as she climbed out. He then hooked her hand on his arm. Not to be outdone, Danny tucked her other hand on his arm. She found herself walking with a man on either side. This is crazy. But at least I won't slip on the ice.

Once inside, Prett snagged a shopping cart and passed it off to Val. He pulled out a half-sheet of flowered stationery from his pocket and handed that to Danny, saying, "There's your list." Danny took off his sunglasses and scowled at the handwriting before protesting. "Yeah, they're baby things. I told you that's what we're getting." Danny responded, indicating Jane. "I can see she's female. What does that have to do with anything?" By his gestures, Danny obviously thought she should get the items. "She has her own shopping list," Prett replied. Danny lodged another protest, but Val snatched the paper from him and weaved the cart into the crowd. Danny expressed surprise, then annoyance as he followed Val, trying to retrieve the list. After wrangling and jostling, Danny ended up with both the list and cart. He disappeared behind a gift basket display, while Val stuck his hands in his pockets, shot a grin at the two left behind, and strolled after him.

"Get around a pretty girl and they start acting like twelve-year-olds," Prett said. Jane startled. Pretty girl? Me? Wearing this? Wait. He thinks I'm pretty? Eww. Oh, he's not that bad. No. Seriously. Eww. Prett pulled out three twenty-dollar bills. "You buy what you need and meet us back here."

Why is he giving me this? "Oh, I–" Wait. Must be an advance on my pay. And I can buy what I need. "Uh, thanks."

"Try not to get mauled by the holiday spirit." He headed into the bustling masses.

Jane got a shopping basket. See, he's a nice guy, like Cadence said. And you were disgusted he thinks you're pretty. And you didn't even apologize for hurting his feelings.

She got her personal items, then made her way to the food section, where she added ramen noodles, a jar of peanut butter, a box of saltines, some cereal bars, and a bag of apples. No reason not to be prepared to leave on a moment's notice. Not that it's so bad hanging out with these guys. Especially Danny.

Jane went through the checkout and waited near the entrance. What if they already checked out? What if they left me here? What if– She let out a breath of relief as Prett walked towards her; a plastic bag dangling from one hand and a potted poinsettia held to his chest by the other. He stood next to her, scanning the crowd for his brothers. After a couple minutes' silence, Jane spoke. "I'm sorry for hurting your feelings earlier."

He no longer had his sunglasses on, so she could see his confusion. "Hurting my feelings?"

"For calling you odd."

He shrugged. "I've been called worse."

"Still. I'm sorry for saying it."

Prett stood on his toes and craned his neck to scope out a group of people entering a far-off checkout line. "But not for thinking it." He dropped his heels.

"Uh, well, yeah. That, too. For thinking it."

"Do you think I'm odd?"

If I say no, I'll be lying. If I say yes, I'll negate my apology. "Uh–"

"Then don't be sorry. For thinking or saying it. I prefer honesty over fawning insincerity." He returned to scanning the shoppers.

Jane gripped her plastic bags. Why can't he simply accept my apology? Why is he twisting it around?

Prett spotted his brothers, who had entered a long checkout nearby. He engaged them in a signed conversation and they seemed to come to an agreement. Val pulled out the truck key chain and made to walk towards them. But Danny swiped it out of his hand and lobbed it at Prett, who managed to catch it without dropping his poinsettia. "Let's get out of here before he starts flinging canned goods at us," Prett said. Jane followed him out, stopping a moment while he dropped several bills into the Salvation Army bucket, generating a heartfelt "Merry Christmas!" from the bell ringer.

Prett insisted on carrying her bags in addition to his own. I hope he doesn't inspect what I bought. And I wish I still had my escorts. This wind is nasty. Prett dropped their groceries in the bed of the truck, put the poinsettia in the back seat, then helped Jane into the front. He started the truck, but didn't move out of the stall. He turned to her. "So, why are you really here? And what do you want from me?"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊  

Fun Fact: I grew up with four brothers (and a sister.) Some of the Marvel brothers' personality traits might sorta be reflective of them. Particularly my brother Gary, who, like Prett, has a penchant for being frustratingly literal. He's not on Wattpad and so can't defend himself.  😃 It's how I also get away with direct-quoting him. ("Jeans don't get dirty, they just get loose," is one example, from Chapter Two.) 

Here we all are, circa 1978. I'm in the cupcake shirt.

Back row: Dean, Bruce Sr., Hazel, Bruce Jr. Front row: Leanne, Lynne, Paul, Gary.

Fun Fact 2: In case you haven't heard the songs mentioned in this chapter, here are the videos:

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵    

https://youtu.be/P5mtclwloEQ

https://youtu.be/fWNaR-rxAic