“Don’t be such a sourpuss, Maddie,’’ Mama said. “You’re really off your oats, girl. Your ‘monthly visitor’ still giving you trouble?’’

Sal cleared his throat. Carlos got interested in reading the label of his Budweiser bottle. “Have you gone crazy?’’ Maddie stared at Mama.

Before Maddie inadvertently revealed I’d lied with that cover story about menstrual troubles, I said, “Nope, Mama’s not crazy. Just a little inappropriate, due to all that pink wine she’s consumed. Let’s talk about something else, why don’t we?’’

“Fine with me,’’ Mama said. “Let’s see if we can figure out what Maddie should wear to Kenny’s party. I’m still opposed to that yellow dress, honey.’’ She took a magazine off the coffee table and started leafing through the sticky-noted pages. “Now, I’ve marked pictures of dresses in shades that would be much more flattering with your complexion.’’

Sal heaved himself to his feet. “Fashion? That’s my cue to go to the den and catch some sports on TV.’’ Carlos wasted no time following the big man’s lead.

As soon as they were gone, Maddie exploded: “The yellow dress is fine. I have no damned intention of changing it, Mama. And I’ll thank you to keep your big nose out of my business.’’

I’m not sure which shocked Mama most. Was it pious Maddie using a curse word? Or was it her inaccurate characterization of Mama’s cute-as-a-button nose?

In a teasing tone, Marty said, “C’mon, Maddie. Mama’s nose isn’t that big.’’

Maddie turned her wrath on our little sister: “I am not in the mood for your appeasements. Not every insult can be forgiven, Marty. Not every slight can be patched over with a lame joke.’’

Marty looked like she’d been slapped. I tried to step in. “Okay, everybody, tempers are a little short tonight.’’

“There’s nothing wrong with my temper.’’ Mama glared at Maddie. “She’s the one who’s not acting like herself. You better shape up, girl. You don’t want to ruin your husband’s birthday party.’’

“This is not about Kenny! Can’t there ever be a single thing that’s about me?’’

If I didn’t know about the current problems between Maddie and her husband, I’d have laughed out loud. In their marriage, Maddie had always had the upper hand. Kenny was worshipful, always trying extra hard to please her. Their relationship was always 80 percent about Maddie; 20 percent about Kenny. Until now.

“Mama’s right,’’ Marty said. “There’s nothing festive about this mood of yours. You better get yourself into that yellow dress and a celebrating mood by Saturday.’’

Maddie was quiet; staring at her hands in her lap. I prayed she wasn’t going to cry. That would change things in an instant. If the other two ever witnessed Maddie in the state I’d seen, they would not rest until they knew what was wrong. And then they’d try to fix it.

“Lay off her, would you?’’ I said. “Can’t a gal have a bad night without her family jumping all over her?’’

Marty gave me a suspicious glance. “Why are you sticking up for Maddie? Seeing you two as allies is as likely as seeing the snake lie down with the pig.’’

Before Mama could pile on, Maddie got up and collected her purse from the table by the front door. Without a parting word, she walked out. The slam of the door shattered the stunned silence in the living room.

Of course, that started up Teensy again. If he hadn’t been causing such a ruckus, yapping and trying to breach the doggie barrier, I’d have asked Marty whether she pictured me as the serpent or the hog. Either way, I wasn’t flattered.

_____

Carlos and I sat on Mama’s front porch swing. It was just us, holding hands. Our silence was comfortable; companionable. Jasmine scented the warm air. A half-moon glowed above, outlining the clouds in silver. Crickets chirped. A barely-there breeze rustled through a magnolia tree. In the distance, a car with squeaky brakes stopped at the traffic light on State Road 70.

Mercifully, Teensy had settled down. Either he’d fallen back to sleep in the kitchen, or he’d choked to death on a second helping of his canine cuisine. Whatever, the quiet time alone with Carlos was a welcome change.

Mama and Marty tried unsuccessfully to get me to speculate on Maddie’s wordless departure. Marty left shortly after, saying she had to wake up early for work. Sal and Mama had decided to turn in, too.

Suddenly, a low moan sounded in the night. Both Carlos and I straightened on the swing, instantly alert. Was someone in pain? Did they need help? I stood and went to the railing. Leaning over, I peered into the yard. Bushes and trees cast dark, shadowy shapes. I couldn’t tell if anything out there was moving.

There was the moan again. And then a sigh. And then a high-pitched, feminine giggle.

Ohmigod, how embarrassing. “We can hear you, Mama!’’

The commotion was coming from the open window of the master bedroom, on the far side of the house.

Mama’s voice floated onto the perfumed air: “Shhhh! I think I heard something, Sally.’’

“You heard me! I’m trying to tell you to keep it down. Carlos and I can hear everything out here.’’

“Mace?’’

“Yes!’’ I rolled my eyes at Carlos.

“I thought all y’all went home.’’

“Well, Carlos and I didn’t. And we know what you’re up to inside. You should stop. Now.’’

The sound of muffled laughter and snickering made its way from the side of the house. Then came frantic whispering, and more giggling.

“Oh, for God’s sake,’’ I said. “Stop acting like adolescents. Get a room!’’

“We have one,’’ Sal called out. “If youse two would give us some privacy, maybe we could get around to using it.’’

“Yeah,’’ Mama added. “Why don’t you take your own advice, Mace?”

Great. Hearing the two of them wasn’t bad enough? Now, my own mother was advising me to spirit away my fiancé and get some sex on?

Carlos grinned at me; a sly, sultry smile that made me want to melt into a puddle on the porch. He fished his keys from his pocket.

“Did you hear me, Mace?’’ Mama called. “Why don’t you and Carlos ‘Get a room?’”

He dangled the car keys in front of my eyes.

I didn’t bother to answer Mama. I pulled Carlos off the porch and steered him onto the path that led to his car. His car with that nice, roomy back seat.

seventeen

The road home was dark, but I was still aglow. Nothing lifts your spirits like some back seat love-making while parked in a cow pasture. Climbing out of Carlos’s car and stepping on a cow patty didn’t even dampen my mood. Smooshing a second one, though, was a bit of a bummer. But more for Carlos than me.

“¡Dios mío, you stink!’’ he said, with typical male sensitivity. “Good thing you followed me in your Jeep. There’s no way I’d let you back into my car.’’

I high-kicked my leg outside, bringing one of the crap-clodded boots close to his face. He started the car and rolled up the window, leaving a tiny slit at the top to talk to me. “No kidding; that’s disgusting. I’ll wait here in my manure-free zone to make sure your engine starts.’’

“Oh, that’s nice: I show you a good time, and you toss me out like used kitty litter.’’

He blew me a couple of kisses through the window. That was probably less an authentic gesture of love and affection than a chance to cover his nose with his hand.

Now, I was tooling home with the windows rolled down in my Jeep, trying to air out my stinky boots. It wasn’t working.

I looked at the ring on my hand, and grinned. I never thought I’d be engaged to such a city boy. Carlos’s family may have kept cattle a couple of generations back in Cuba, but he was much more Miami these days than Camaguey. Imagine being so put off by the smell of a little manure. Then again, it was pretty fresh manure. I leaned my face out the window, grateful to the local grower who had decided to plant orange groves. The fragrant blossoms on several hundred acres of trees in the distance were sending out some much-needed aroma assistance.