Free House Divided by Jennifer Peel Page A

stages of dementia. My
face must have registered my shock.
    “Are you ok, Ellie?” Brady asked.
    “Yes, I’m just not sure what to get a
couple of people on the list.”
    “What about puppies?’ Caroline suggested.
She was a funny girl, but I wondered if Brady would want a puppy.
    “So, Brady, what are you asking Santa for
this year?” I asked offhandedly as we walked to the first store on my list.
    “I hope it’s a puppy!” Caroline yelled
out.
    Somebody apparently needed to get this
girl a baby or a puppy.
    He smiled over at her. “It’s not a puppy,
darlin’.”
    “Aww,” she said.
    “So?” I asked.
    He winked. “That’s between me and Santa.”
    Well that didn’t help me at all. I guess I
would just ask my aunt later what she thought and if she truly meant to have
them on her list. We visited a myriad of stores, including Pottery Barn, the
Apple Store and several department stores. Caroline was a trooper, and so was
Brady, since he carried her a lot of the time, either piggy back or on his
shoulders. He also managed to carry a lot of my bags. After about the seventh
store, I asked him if he was sorry about lying yet. I’m sure he had no idea
what he was in store for.
    He tugged on my hair. “It was well worth
it.”
    I nudged him with my shoulder. He was too
charming for my own good.
    We finally finished around dinner time,
which was good because Caroline was more than done. She even got a little
whiny, but Uncle Brady fixed that with the promise of cheeseburgers and
milkshakes on the way home. I knew where he would take us. There was a little
place outside of Birmingham that we used to go to when we were dating. We got
out of Kaysville whenever we could and went where no one knew he was a Jackson and I was an Eaton, or at least they didn’t care.
    When we parked in front of the restaurant,
Brady looked at me innocently, but he was anything but innocent. I didn’t need
a trip down memory lane with him; I cruised down that lane by myself, too
frequently. I almost begged him to just take me home.
    Brady came around and got Caroline out. I
hesitated. I kept looking at the blinking neon sign and remembering the many
dates we had spent there sharing a booth and milkshakes and lots of kisses.  We
stayed until closing on more occasions than I could count. In my reverie, Brady
opened my door and held out his hand to me. I wanted to take it, but I
couldn’t. I slid out unassisted, but Brady being Brady, wasn’t deterred. As we
walked toward the entrance, he locked pinky fingers with me like we used to. He
smiled that country boy smile, but I shook my head no and put Caroline in
between us. He may have tricked me into spending the day with him, but this
wasn’t a date. I wouldn’t break the rules again.
    We walked in to find the place looked just
as it had ten years ago with red vinyl booths and black and white checkered
floors, and the jukebox still looked to be in working order. Brady asked for a
booth, and we were seated. I sat on the same side as Caroline, not with Brady
like we used to. He looked disappointed, but he still winked at me. The boy was
killing me.
    Mrs. Kellen, the owner, came out to take
our order, and wow was she excited. Before she even greeted us, she called to
her husband Randy in the back. “Come out here and see who’s here!” She turned
back to us. “Look at the two of you, all grown up. I just knew you would end up
together, and now here you are with your little carrot-top.”
    I thought she might cry, and I thought I
might too. “Mrs. Kellen …”
    Mr. Kellen arrived, and I didn’t get to
finish my thought. “Look at this, Randy. I told you he would never marry that
Miss Alabama girl.” She turned to Brady. “When I would see you and that girl on
T.V., I could tell you never looked at her the way you looked at Miss Ellie.”
    Brady stared hard at me. I could feel my
cheeks pink and my eyes water. I turned toward the Kellens. “Mrs. Kellen, Brady
and I aren’t