A Piggly Wiggly Christmas (30 page)

Mr. Choppy returned a very cordial “Merry Christmas to ya!” while Gaylie Girl moved forward and embraced Cherish warmly. “Merry Christmas, and no, I think the snow’s done for the day. The sun’s even popped out. And don’t you worry about your appearance. You look just beautiful, sweetie. You’re just as fresh and natural as you can be. And I was just telling Henry, both of you are to relax and let us take over. It’s your home, but you’ll be the guests and we’ll be the hosts.”

About a half hour later, the two couples had just started in on the marinated portobellos Gaylie Girl had fixed for appetizers when Cherish brought up the subject of her maternity leave. “I feel awkward about askin’ for more time off, but I realize after everything I’ve been through with Riley Jacob that I really need to be home with him—” She trailed off, putting down her fork and taking a deep breath. It was almost like she was daring herself to say the words. “When he comes home, that is.”

Gaylie Girl reached over and gently rubbed Cherish on the arm. “I’m sure he’ll be coming home sooner than you think. And when he does, you can be a stay-at-home mom as long as you like. I have lots of work ahead of me as Hale’s special projects secretary now. So I have no intention of quitting anytime soon. Oh, here we’ve been so intent on getting dinner on the table that we forget to share the big news with you. Hale, why don’t you tell them?”

Mr. Choppy took a swallow of his sweet tea and explained the gist of The Square Deal to them. “How’s that for a great big Christmas present?” he concluded.

Both Henry and Cherish sat in openmouthed amazement, but Henry finally managed to speak. “Six million dollars? Miz Dunbar, you and your family have to be the most generous people I’ve ever known. We were all wonderin’ what would happen to Second Creek and The Square with the terrible fire and all. I guess it really does seem like Christmas after all, huh?”

“A very merry one,” Mr. Choppy added. He seemed to be enjoying a private joke as he chuckled to himself a little longer than was necessary. “I was thinkin’ about my daddy just now. How he always found a way outta bad times here in Second Creek. It was all built around his complete devotion to our family business—the Piggly Wiggly, of course. He always came through for the community, and no matter what kinda ordeal we had to endure over the years, Second Creek always survived. So in a way you could even call this a very Piggly Wiggly Christmas.”

“Sure could,” Henry said, his face as bright as the patch of sun now streaming through the dining-room window and falling at the foot of the nearby little Christmas tree.

It was after the dessert of pumpkin pie with whipped cream that Henry and Cherish opened the present that Gaylie Girl and Mr. Choppy had brought them.

“This is just too much,” Cherish said, admiring the beautifully wrapped gift after she’d lifted it from its spot on the red Christmas skirt. “I know it sounds like a cliché, but you really didn’t have to. Not with everything else you’ve done. I almost hate to open it, it’s so pretty.”

Gaylie Girl shot Mr. Choppy a deliberate and mischievous glance. “Isn’t it, though? Hale wrapped it himself.”

Mr. Choppy let the comment ride with a big, wide-eyed grin, looking exactly like a little boy who’d just received an increase in his allowance.

Cherish finally stopped her admiring and unwrapped it, revealing a handsome, leather-bound photograph album. She had barely gotten the first little gasp out when Gaylie Girl began what seemed for all the world like a carefully rehearsed spiel. “This is Riley Jacob’s first album. The first of many to come, I’m sure, though this one should last you for a long time. You’ll fill it up proudly with the proof of his growth and health. And then one day you’ll turn around and there he’ll be—a grown man as big and strapping as his father is right now.”

The two women embraced, and Henry offered Mr. Choppy a firm handshake. “I guess there’s only one thing we have to say. And that’s—would you consider bein’ Riley Jacob’s godmother, Miz Dunbar?”

Gaylie Girl appeared startled at first but recovered quickly with her usual gracious smile. “Why, I’d be very proud to be, Henry. And it’ll be a nice little refresher course for me, since I’m hoping that Petey and Meta will be giving me more grandchildren soon. Got to get back into the habit of spoiling the little ones, you know.”

“I’m so glad you said yes, since Henry and I didn’t get you a formal present,” Cherish pointed out, hanging her head ever so slightly.

But Mr. Choppy was having none of it, stepping up and speaking firmly. “Nonsense. You’ve given us both the opportunity to be godparents, and that’s a gift that’ll last all of us for many years to come.”

“Are we reasonably on schedule?” Mr. Choppy said, as they drove away from New Vista Acres back toward town. “My watch says almost two-thirty.”

“We’re doing just fine. Renza said they’d probably be through with their dinner about now, and we could join them for cordials or coffee anytime after that. Strictly open house. So why don’t we run home, freshen up, and swing by around three-thirty or so?”

He nodded while keeping his eyes peeled for dangerous puddles. The sun was melting the snow faster now, already relegating the upstart white Christmas to a fading memory. Soon enough, however, he was revisiting the conversation at the Hempsteads.

“Have you actually talked to Petey or Meta about the prospects of grandchildren yet?”

Gaylie Girl seemed caught off guard. “Oh, well, no I haven’t. I really don’t know if Petey wants to start a family right now. Maybe that was just a Christmas wish on my part. So much seems to be falling into place right now, though. I thought I’d go ahead and wish anyway. Renza seems to think that Meta’s going to continue to be very involved in her art gallery as soon as they can get it up and running. When you come right down to it, I’d settle for a happy marriage for them and leave it at that, considering Petey’s track record.”

“Good thinkin’. But you know, I have a feelin’ you won’t be disappointed. Anyone with as big a heart as Petey has will eventually want to pass it on to another generation. Maybe this time next year, you and I will be grandparents. That is, if you’ll let me remove the ‘step’ so I can qualify.”

“Petey already thinks of you as a father. He certainly respects you. I’m not sure we’ll have to qualify anything.”

Mr. Choppy let the good feelings sink in as they drove on in contented silence all the way to the city limits. At the last second, instead of making the turn that would take them home to North Bayou Avenue, he headed for The Square.

“I’d like to get a quick look at it now so I can visualize what’s to come. We’ve got a little time to spare, and I don’t wanna rush around anyway. Petey told me last night that he and Meta will reconstruct that buildin’ exactly the way it was, from top to bottom. Minus the bad wirin’, of course. He says Miz Novie has access to all the historical photographs and even some of the old blueprints they keep down at Springtime Tour Headquarters that she’s in charge of now.”

Mr. Choppy paused with a farsighted expression on his face. “Imagine that. They’ll be buildin’ it back better than it was. And with the funds y’all are providin’ to the others, they’ll prob’ly do the same. I’ve never been a big believer in that blessin’-in-disguise concept, but this fire looks like it’s turnin’ out to be just that. We did have a few empty, dilapidated stores among the ones that went up in smoke. They won’t be missed, but what takes their place could do us up proud.”

The car turned into Courthouse Street South, where the hideous view of the charred ruins loomed at the other end, partly and perhaps thankfully obscured by the white walls and terra-cotta slate roof of the imposing courthouse halfway between the two. Mr. Choppy shut off the engine, and they stared at the devastation for a while. There was almost nothing left of the morning snowfall, so the full effect of the ashes, blackened bricks, and beams was in evidence once again.

“I was thinking about Santa Fe just now,” Gaylie Girl finally observed. “The way I wanted to bring the feeling I had for it here to Second Creek. But I’ve come to a surprising realization. My feeling for Second Creek has grown much stronger than anything I ever felt for Santa Fe. It’s been a trial by fire, Hale. I mean that literally.

“And when Petey called me up a few days ago and asked me to come out to Evening Shadows to discuss his Square Deal, I was on board in a heartbeat. That has to make me a genuine Second Creeker now, doesn’t it?”

He leaned over and gave her an affectionate peck on the check. “I have to believe it does. Nobody who wasn’t the genuine article would make the commitment you’ve made. You’ve put your money where your mouth is. The way I see it, you’ll end up bein’ the grandest First Lady Second Creek’s ever had. Maybe someday there’ll even be a beautiful bronzed statue of Gaylie Girl Dunbar on The Square.”

Laurie and Powell’s Christmas open house was fully under way when Mr. Choppy and Gaylie Girl finally dropped by around seven that evening. The visit with Renza had largely been a bust, since Petey and Meta had left earlier to return to his suite at Evening Shadows.

“They just can’t keep their hands off each other,” Renza had noted, trying her best not to sound judgmental but falling short of the mark. “Of course, I don’t begrudge them their fondness for each other. I just think they might be overdoing it.”

So it was just Mr. Choppy and Gaylie Girl being entertained by Renza and her tart musings for the better part of an hour in the drawing room of Belford Place. At some point, Gaylie Girl realized one more time that she had better get used to it if Petey and Meta tied the knot as expected. Learning to finesse Renza might not be easy, but it was definitely going to be necessary to keep the peace.

“Well, I suppose we’ll see you tonight at Laurie’s,” Gaylie Girl had said, when it was more than apparent the three of them had run out of things to say. She had even gotten to her feet to force the issue.

Renza was looking up from her spiked eggnog with a hint of betrayal in her face. “You’re running off so soon?”

But Gaylie Girl had been certain she was playing at being obtuse and decided to attempt her first finesse.

“Hale and I were thinking about taking a little nap ourselves. I was up half the night cooking for the Hempsteads, you know.” And that had done the trick nicely. But not before Gaylie Girl had made a mental note to catch up with Petey and Meta later out at Evening Shadows. After all, they still had presents to exchange.

Things were quite a bit livelier at Laurie’s, however, as Mr. Choppy and Gaylie Girl cleared a couple of seats for themselves on one of the sofas and settled in with their drinks amid the other Nitwitts and Powell Hampton.

“You’re just in time,” Laurie said, absentmindedly tinkering with the reindeer antlers that she wore atop her head for every Christmas open house. “We’ve been informed that Myrtis and Euterpe are about to make a momentous announcement.” She gestured toward both women, who were sitting next to each other in a far corner of the room, whispering back and forth and otherwise looking thick as thieves.

Finally, Myrtis got to her feet and hoisted her cup of eggnog high in the air. “To the success of my new bed-and-breakfast partnership with Euterpe. We have decided to split the financial responsibilities at Evening Shadows, and Euterpe will permanently occupy my Bloody Mary Suite upstairs. I declare here and now that she is not only grand company but also one helluva floor show at the Steinway to boot!”

The room was immediately abuzz with chatter and cries of “Congratulations!” as the Nitwitts got to their feet and took turns endlessly embracing one another yet again. Somehow Laurie was able to take the floor again and press on. “When did you two decide this? I thought it was against our bylaws to keep secrets as huge as this.”

“Oh, we kind of fell into it this past week during the afterglow of one of Myrtis’s fabulous dinners,” Euterpe explained. “We’re going to make it legal and official after the first of the year. And, yes, ladies, I will continue to teach you piano lessons as the Mistress of the Scales. We Nitwitts are nothing if not multitaskers.”