Isle of Palms (63 page)

Read Isle of Palms Online

Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

“Forgive me, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about his stress, okay? I was dealing with my own?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Well, all things considered, that was about the best thing he could’ve said.”
“Oh, hellfire, it was a long time ago and I was pretty stupid too.”
“You’re not stupid now.”
“Really? I destroyed a hundred-thousand-dollar car earlier today.”
“That wasn’t stupid. It was genius. But remind me to get out of your way when you’re in a bad mood, okay? Maybe I’ll go to Lowe’s with old Douglas and get something to lock up the tools.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Besides, he really didn’t care that much. He said he expected something would happen.”
“He was right. He’s lucky he didn’t spend twenty years in the cooler.”
“Yeah, he got off cheap.”
We walked along a little and I thought about Arthur and Daddy at Lowe’s looking for lockboxes.
“Hey! Did you hear this? Daddy’s gonna ask Lucy to marry him.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah, is that weird or what?”
“No. They love each other, don’t they?”
“Yes. A lot.”
“Well, when two people love each other, they usually do something like that, don’t they?”
“Holy hell, Arthur! Are you asking me to marry you?”
He started coughing and stammering. “What? No! I mean, I don’t know! I mean . . .”
“You are such a worm! You don’t have a clue what you mean!”
“I know that I love you, though.” He cleared his throat, then stopped, and looked me in the face. “How’s that for openers?”
“You do?”
Holy hopping hell. He had just told me he loved me.
“Do you love me?”
“What is this? Fifth grade?”
“Well?”
“You put me through the wringer, you know.”
“Well? Spit it out.”
“I love you, Arthur. You know I do.”
“I know. And, as terrifying as that would’ve been to someone like me three months ago, now I can’t live without it.”
“Me either.”
We walked and listened to the sounds of the beach at night, marveled at the glisten of the water and the smell of salt, saying to each other that we were so lucky, so fabulously rich to have each other.
The random connections in my new life were a fascinating study in synchronicity. Leaving Daddy, finding Lucy, and then David coming into Emily’s life. My love of the beach, and the beach having delivered Arthur. Everett had bound me to Jim and Emily forever. Gary’s death had brought Jim back to all of us and Frannie had found Jake. Even Miss Mavis and Miss Angel had more company and excitement in their lives. Everything had changed with that first move. There just couldn’t be that many coincidences in life.
Maybe my life
was
part of a plan and the choices I made affected the outcome only ever so slightly. I didn’t doubt it anymore. The cynic in me had taken some heavy bullets in recent months. And now, I had become practically romantic. I had even faced down my worst enemies and survived to tell the stories.
“Hey, Arthur?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? Excellent.
“Life
is
good. Real good.”
“Come on,” he said, “it’s late. Let’s get you home and to sleep. You had a rough workout today.”
“Good idea.”
I wondered if he could see me smiling in the dark.
I would sleep, all right, like an old Lowcountry girl, just an old Geechee brat who was grateful and finally truly and deeply in love with her life. Momma would probably show up in my dreams and do a little victory dance. Who knew? Maybe she’d do the Charleston. I hoped she would. I’d kick up my heels with her.
Epilogue
SHE’S a wreck and I don’t know why she should be,” Maggie said. “She’s known Simon since she was just a kid.” Maggie, in a perfect little black dress and pearls, was the matron of honor in the wedding of Susan Hayes (and also her older sister).
“Honey, any woman getting married ought to have the good sense to be nervous. It wouldn’t be normal if she wasn’t!”
I was trimming Maggie’s hair, Eugene was washing Susan’s daughter Beth’s hair and Susan was under the dryer. The wedding was to take place at five that afternoon, at Stella Maris Church, followed by a reception on the beach in front of her family’s home, the Island Gamble. I loved it that so many houses around here had names and I thought to myself that maybe I should name ours something like Blond Ambition, or Wild Life Sanctuary. I liked the last one best. Life was wild and the house was my sanctuary. I’d have to ask Emily what she thought about it. Naming a house would be a great excuse to have a bunch of company come over, have a barbecue, and unveil a sign over our front door.
“I’m dry!” Susan hollered and I went over to check.
Her hair was still damp so I said, “Another fifteen minutes! You want a smoothie?”
“No, thanks! But, good grief! I’ve been under this thing for a year!”
“You’ve got a lot of hair!”
She closed her eyes and shook her head in exasperation.
Bettina had given her a manicure and a pedicure and waxed her from stem to stern. She pulled me aside.
“We oughta give her a discount on the waxing ’cause all her hair is on her head. Her legs ain’t nothing but duck fuzz.”
“She’s my favorite client. I ain’t charging her a dime. It’s a wedding gift.”
“That’s nice. You know what, Anna?”
“What?”
“It pays to be nice in this world, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I think. Having a heart makes all the difference, Brooklyn, all the difference in the world.”
Susan, Beth, and Maggie left looking spectacular. If my Emily had the green eyes, those three had the waters of Bermuda sloshing in their heads.
“She sure looks beautiful,” Brigitte said, “God bless her!”
“Amen,” Bettina said.
“She
is
beautiful and she’s marrying the right man too.”
The afternoon flew by and I left the salon at three to go home and change. Arthur, who had finally bought a car, picked me up at four. I wanted to check their hair again before the ceremony.
“You look good enough to eat!” Arthur said and kissed my cheek. “And you smell good enough to drink.”
“Don’t start with me, boy, I’m still on duty.”
“There’s always later, my little vine of delight. . . .”
“Vine of delight? As in wrap myself around you? Get in the car! I’m gonna be late!”
Arthur was always saying these dumb things but the truth was that I was thrilled to wrap myself around him. Whoo! Amazing!
We drove down Middle Street to Station Nine and pulled in their yard. The railings on the steps had been festooned with ivory tulle, asparagus ferns, and enormous white lilies, tied at intervals with bows of wide ivory-watermarked, wired French ribbon. And that was just the back steps!
Torches, also decorated, were in place to create a path to the front of the house for the guests, which made sense as I couldn’t imagine they wanted people coming to the wedding reception through the kitchen. But I went in the kitchen anyway, which was in a complete frenzy. There were about twelve waiters and two or three chefs barking orders, moving racks of glasses, and garnishing platters of finger food.
Susan was nowhere in sight.
Arthur and I squeezed through the crowd into the dining room.
“Wow,” he said.
All chairs had been removed, and the table was draped to the floor in a magnificent white damask cloth. I was struck by two things at once. First, the cake. It had four tiers and at the base of each one were tiny white roses and gardenias made of spun sugar. All around the sides were tiny silver balls worked into a biased lattice pattern. On top were two figures. The bride was reading a book and wearing a big diamond and the groom was wearing a doctor’s jacket and a stethoscope. How clever! And, in each corner were two of the biggest floral arrangements I had ever seen. These huge sprays of white roses and fresh gardenias stood on deep red lacquered pedestals, in blue-and-white-patterned vases, and filled the room with perfume.
Susan was still nowhere in sight.
I turned around and saw the porch ahead of me.
“Come on,” I said to Arthur, “there’s got to be somebody out there.”
“Or at least a bar.”
We passed the living room on the left and Arthur stopped.
“What?” I said.
“That mirror! I could’ve sworn that I saw something in it besides us.”
“Yeah, right. Come on, let’s go.”
Arthur backed up and went back into the living room, staring at the big mirror on the far end. It was a floor-to-ceiling mirror with a gold gilt frame, obviously an antique.
“I
swear,
Anna, I saw an older black woman in there, all dressed up. There was a man next to her. They were both waving at me trying to get my attention. I’m not
lying!
I
saw
it!”
I didn’t see a thing in the mirror and thought Arthur had gotten too much sun or something.
“Let’s get you a drink and park you somewhere safe while I go find Susan, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Okay. Man! That was . . . oh, forget it!”
There was a bar on either end of the porch, and the porch, by the way, was festooned everywhere with more monster arrangements on deep red lacquered pedestals. I got Arthur a glass of wine, and one of Susan’s brothers—I think he said his name was Henry—said he’d take me to Susan. We went upstairs and left Arthur, who was a little ashen, standing by the railing looking out at the ocean. What was up with him?
“How many people are coming?” I asked Henry.
“I think only about fifty to seventy-five people. This whole shebang was planned so fast that if I didn’t know better, I’d say that devil Simon knocked up my poor sister.”
“Not a chance.”
His eyes twinkled. “Here we are. I think she’s in here.”
He opened the door for me and Susan turned to see who was coming in. Well, can I just tell you that it never fails that when I see a bride, I get choked up. Susan was all sort of drenched in afternoon light and looked so beautiful and so happy that I nearly lost it.
“Hey, Anna, thanks for coming early. Can you believe I’m actually doing this?”
“Oh, Susan! You look so incredible I could cry!”
“Don’t cry! Help me get this dumb thing on my head!”
Her dress was heavy, pink-hued ivory satin—with cap sleeves and a scooped neck, and it went right to the floor in a slight flare without stopping. The back had a long slit and tiny covered buttons climbed all the way up her back. The “dumb thing” was a small pillbox hat with a long graceful veil attached to it. She wore pearls and pearl studs and I couldn’t think of a more elegant wedding outfit, especially for a woman who wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.
The door opened again. Maggie and Beth had arrived to do a last-minute check on Susan.
“Oh, Momma! You look so pretty!” Beth kissed her mother on the cheek.
“Yes, You do!” Maggie said and gave her a kiss too. “I think we are almost ready to go, Susan. Do you want to run away to Tahiti? Last call?”
“Are you crazy? I’ve been waiting to be married to this guy all my life!”
They kept talking, the kind of nervous chatter you would expect, and then I realized Susan was talking to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I was lost in thought.”
“No problem. I asked if you’d brought Arthur.”
“Yeah, and you know what? He’s so crazy! He thought he saw something in the mirror in your living room.”
Dead silence.
“What?” I said.
“What did he think he saw?” Beth said, choking on a giggle.
“Oh, man. You’re gonna think this is crazy if I tell you this.”
“No. I can assure you, we won’t,” Maggie said.
“Okay. He said he saw an older black woman and a man, all dressed up, waving to him. Is that about the craziest thing you ever heard?”
“Livvie. And Nelson,” Susan said, her voice cracking, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms.
“Hadda be,” Beth said.
“Who’s Livvie?” I said.
They looked at each other and then to me and finally Susan said, “Livvie was everything. And she never missed anything. I’ll tell you all about her another time.”
“I think I hear the chamber musicians tuning up,” Maggie said. “I’d better go see if the limo is here yet.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and when I was happy with the veil and pillbox I said, “Don’t you worry. We can have a hurricane and that thing ain’t moving!”
Maggie stuck her head back in the door.
“Time to go! The man of your dreams is waiting!”
Henry came in the room with Susan’s bouquet, which was, for the record, an armful of ivory roses and greens tied with ivory ribbon.
“I believe it’s time to take my sister to the guillotine? Gee, Susan. You look really good. I mean, considering how you
usually
look and all.”
“Thanks, jerk,” Susan said, “I love you too.”
I left to let them have a minute together and found Arthur outside, waiting in the yard.
“All done! The bride’s ready! Let’s go.”
We drove the short distance to the church and parked our cars. The church was lit with candles and the organ was playing something beautiful. We slipped into a pew and sat down. Arthur took my hand and squeezed it.
“I love weddings,” Arthur said.
“You do?”
He did?
“Yeah. What more hopeful act is there than getting married?”
“Can’t think of one,” I said, “except maybe having children.”
The organ music changed then to something classical and we knew it was time. Everyone stood and turned to the back of the church. Beth came up the aisle first. She carried a big bouquet of simple flowers—Gerber daisies of all colors—tied with ribbons of burgundy, cream, and deep green. Her deep green dress was sleeveless. She looked like a Xerox copy of her mother’s youth. Next came Maggie, blond and beautiful. In one hand she held her bouquet and she gave little waves and pinches to everyone she knew as she went up the aisle. And suddenly, on the swell of the organ’s music, Susan and her brother appeared at the back of the church.

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