Zella threw up her hands with a squawk when David told her that as he sat down in the chair beside her desk to wait for Leigh. “You can’t do that.”
“We have to do that. Mt. Pleasant can’t hold that many people.”
“Well, of course not,” Zella said as she began folding her tissue into little squares. She peeked up at David. “Didn’t I tell you I had it worked out?”
“You had what worked out?” David was almost afraid to ask.
“You’re not getting married at Mt. Pleasant.”
“We’re not?”
“Be realistic, David.” She sounded like she was selling him an ad for the
Banner
as she looked up at him and went on. “Your church is way too small. I know. I’ve been there. They had some kind of Women’s Missionary Union program out there years ago. As best I recall, there was barely enough room for the WMU members then. And the basement where you’d have to have the reception isn’t any bigger than this front office. My heavens, David, sometimes I think you must walk around with your eyes shut.”
David frowned a little. “All right. My eyes are wide open right now. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“That you have to have a little common sense about all this. Everybody wants to come to your wedding. You’re in the public eye. What with being the editor of the
Banner
and a preacher. And of course, everybody knows Leigh from going in the courthouse and buying their car tags from her. You can’t be telling people now they can’t come to your wedding. You put a big announcement in the paper two weeks ago saying all friends were invited. What are you planning to do? Tell some of them they aren’t your friends? I don’t think so.” Zella rolled her eyes and shook her head until her black curls bounced. “I mean, do you want half of them to cancel their subscriptions?”
“No, definitely not that,” David said. “But didn’t the announcement also say that the wedding was on June fifth at Mt. Pleasant Church?”
“A minor problem,” Zella said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ve already given a correction to Wesley to set up for next week’s paper. And you can announce it to your church people Sunday.”
“So where are we having the wedding? The football field at the high school? There should be plenty of seats there.”
“True. But it would be sure to rain. Sure to. I don’t care how much you prayed. Poor Leigh would be frazzled with worry about the weather. Plus who wants to climb up on bleachers in heels and Sunday dresses. Certainly not me. And think of Leigh’s poor mother. No way could she climb up on any bleachers.” Zella grabbed another tissue and dabbed it against her forehead and then her nose. “Honestly, David, sometimes I don’t know what you would do without me.”
David sighed. He really didn’t know what he’d do without Zella either, but right at that moment he thought he might like to try to find out for a few days. “All right. What have you done?”
“You make it sound like I’ve done something bad. Well, not at all. I’ve been taking care of you the way I always do. I talked to Pastor Vance weeks ago about keeping that date open at First Baptist. It’s the only thing to do. Get married there where there will be plenty of seats. We do have a balcony, you know. And it has a great center aisle. Leigh will look so beautiful coming down the aisle in her dress. A beautiful bride needs a beautiful church to get married in.” Zella put her hands together under her chin as her eyes went dreamy.
David didn’t know what to say.
The dreamy look disappeared. Zella gave him a very pleased-with-herself smile as she said, “Now don’t bother thanking me. And don’t be worried about your people out there at Mt. Pleasant. They agreed with me that it was the only thing to do. I talked to Sally McMurtry. She thought it was a wonderful idea. She said she and the McDermotts and some others would handle things on that end. She said nobody would be the first bit upset. Said there wouldn’t have been nearly enough parking space out there anyway for all the folks that would want to come from town.”
David felt a little as if somebody had just run over him with a truck. Maybe he had been walking around with his eyes shut. “You know Myra Hearndon is singing in the wedding.”
“Well, of course I do. I probably know more about what’s happening at your wedding than you do.”
“Obviously,” David said.
“And it’s not like Myra will be the only person of color there. Reverend Boyer and his family will be there, and of course, Noah has to be there.”
“Not to mention Stephen Lee,” David said.
“Right,” Zella said. “First Baptist is every bit as forward thinking as Mt. Pleasant. We don’t shut our doors to people with colored skin.”
“Good. Just didn’t want to cause any problems for Reverend Vance.”
“Brother Vance is a wonderful man,” Zella said. “You’re just upset because he wouldn’t marry you, what with you being divorced and all. Lots of preachers are that way, and it’s going to be nice to have the judge do the ceremony since he’s Leigh’s uncle and all.”
“The Lord works things out,” David admitted. He had been upset when every preacher he’d asked had looked apologetic but had refused to marry him. It was pretty surprising Reverend Vance even agreed to let them be married in his church. Zella’s force of character must have steamrollered his objections. Or maybe she hadn’t asked. She hadn’t bothered to ask David.
“What has the Lord worked out?” Leigh asked as she came in the front door in time to hear David’s last comment.
“Our wedding, it appears. The Lord and Zella, I might add.”
“Uh-oh. What’s going on that I don’t know about?” Leigh looked at Zella.
“Nothing much,” Zella said quickly. “Just a change of venue. I was going to tell you both just as soon as everything was arranged.”
Leigh frowned a little. “A change of venue? You mean we’re not getting married at the church?”
“Of course you’re getting married at the church. Just not the Mt. Pleasant Church. There is so much more space at First Baptist and think of the longer aisle. It’s going to be wonderful. You’ll see,” Zella said.
“Shouldn’t somebody have asked us about this?” Leigh asked.
“Apparently not,” David said.
Zella stood up and leaned toward them with her hands on her desk. “I can’t see why the two of you are getting in such a snit about it all. You have to admit this will be better. So just enjoy.”
“Enjoy,” David echoed and looked at Leigh. She was biting her lip to keep from smiling, and then suddenly they were both laughing. Enjoy. It was the best advice he’d had for days. Advice he planned to take.
T
he car was packed, ready to go. Adrienne had never thought she’d leave California. The place had been home from the moment she’d crossed over the state line five years ago. She’d never stayed in one place so long, not counting Hollyhill. And Hollyhill had never been home for her. It had just been the place where she’d been born. Surely by mistake.
Now she was going to die. Surely that was a mistake too. But then everybody died. It was a fact of life. People lots younger than her walked over death’s bridge. All she had to do to realize that was read the papers about what was happening in Vietnam. The president was sending boys half her age to a jungle on the other side of the world to cross that bridge into eternity. Most of them didn’t want to go hunting that bridge any more than she liked being pushed toward it by the disease spreading through her and into her bones.
Some of them, like Eddie, were refusing to go, draft or no draft.
Maybe driving across country to spend her last months with her mother in Florida was a mistake too. She hadn’t even seen her mother for over five years. But there was some kind of unwritten rule that said a person should be with family when that person breathed her last. And her mother was family.
Those boys in Vietnam had no mama, daddy, sister, brother holding their hands when those bullets or the shrapnel ripped into their bodies and sent them out into the great beyond. But that was different. They didn’t have a choice. She did. Maybe not about dying, but about where it happened. And Florida would be a better place for dying than California. Lots of practice there with all the snowbirds going down there to live out their last days in the sunshine.
Her mother promised the sun was just as bright in Florida as it was in California. Still, it would be different. Adrienne knew that, but she didn’t know what else she could do. Francine had tried to get Adrienne to stay in California, had promised to be her family. She’d even cried as she’d helped Adrienne sell her furniture and pack up her car, but then Francine had crying down to an art. She teared up when she heard the theme music for
Lassie
reruns on television.
Adrienne didn’t have any more tears. Her tear ducts were as dry as the Mojave Desert she’d soon be driving through. What was it people were always saying? No need crying over spilt milk. Cancer wasn’t exactly spilt milk, but whatever it was, those ravenously hungry mutant cells were piling up inside her and sucking away her life. There wasn’t any way to sop it up and put it back in whatever bottle it had come out of.
Besides, she’d done her crying. Was still crying inside. Silently. Painfully behind the smile. At least that was the way it had been the day Eddie came by to say goodbye before he headed to Canada to keep from being drafted.
“I’m not waiting until they pull my name up,” he’d said. “I’m out of here.”
“But what will you do up there?” Adrienne had hated the way she’d sounded maternal. She’d never wanted to be Eddie’s mother, but that had been the way she felt as she watched him that day. He looked so young next to her disease-aged body.
“Get a new club to sing at. A couple of the guys are going with me. We’ll make out.”
And Gina, Adrienne thought, but didn’t say aloud. She’d even heard Gina was saying they might get married once they got settled in Canada.
Eddie noticed her frown and got defensive for all the wrong reasons. Nothing was new about that either. “What do you want me to do?” he almost shouted. “Let them send me over there to get shot? I’m not cut out to be a soldier. I’m a singer. I mean, it’s not like anybody’s attacking us over here.”
“The enemy lies within.” Adrienne shouldn’t have said it out loud. She knew that as soon as the words were hanging out there in the air between them.
“You’re not going to get all maudlin on me, are you?” Eddie looked worried as he moved a couple of steps closer to the door. “I mean, Francine told me you were handling everything really well. And you know doctors can be wrong.”
Adrienne smiled even though she’d lost count of the times people had told her that very same thing while they stared off past her head or down at the floor to keep from looking into her eyes. She tried to hold on to him for another minute. The last minutes. “They can. Of course they can. And we were talking about you, not me. You’ll make it, Eddie. To the big time someday.”
“You really think so?” He stopped looking uncomfortable as he shifted back to his own problems easily enough. “It won’t be as easy in Canada.”
“The war can’t last long. Maybe your draft number won’t ever come up and you won’t have to stay north. It’s bound to be cold up there.”
“Yeah, that’s what Gina says too.” He didn’t even seem to realize how talking about his current girl was twisting a knife in Adrienne’s gut. “She says we should get married, have a kid or two fast as we can and then I’ll be 4-F or something.”
“That’s a plan,” Adrienne managed to say.
He had the grace then to look a little shamefaced. “Well, hers not mine.” He shuffled another step closer to the door even as he said, “Hey, you want me to stay over tonight? To, you know, talk and stuff before I take off tomorrow.”
It was all she could do to force herself to keep smiling.
“I don’t think tonight will work out.”
“You don’t have to worry about Gina,” he said. “I mean, I do whatever I want. She’s cool with that.”
“Good, then maybe things will work out for the two of you.” She forced another smile and felt even more maternal. “But I’m not feeling the best today. You understand.”
He was surprised. He hadn’t expected her to chase him out the door. For a minute he didn’t know what to say even as a bit of relief sneaked into his eyes. She’d always known him so well. And loved him in spite of that. In his way, as much as he was able, Eddie had loved her back. That had been the difference between her and Eddie and her and David. While she had never loved David, at the same time he had never loved her. Not the real her. He’d wanted to love the person he had imagined her to be.
Eddie stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to grab her in a hug. She tried to pull back from him. She wasn’t wearing her prosthesis. She hadn’t known he was coming by and the thing was so infernally heavy that it seemed to drag her into the ground when she wore it. But he kept his arms tight around her, not seeming to notice her bosom imbalance. “Just a hug,” he said. “A hug can’t hurt.”
That had just shown how young he was. The hug had hurt. Her ribs had been tender to the touch ever since the surgery, and even more, her heart had felt as if it was splintering into a thousand pieces. But she’d managed to hang on to her smile as she’d watched him out the door. “Sing a song for me sometimes, Eddie.”
He’d promised he would even as he’d run away from her toward his future.
Now he was gone. A new band was playing at the club. Green Grass Trees or some silly name like that. She’d never bothered to go hear them. Francine said they were okay. Not as good as Eddie B. and the Bugs, but okay. Of course, Francine liked everybody. Even Adrienne.
Francine was standing on the sidewalk, tears running down her cheeks as she watched Adrienne start up her car and shift it into gear. “Don’t forget to call when you get there so I’ll know you’re okay,” she yelled after Adrienne.
As if there was ever any chance of Adrienne being okay again. But Adrienne nodded and waved at her as she pulled away from the curb. Behind her, Francine was jogging up the sidewalk after her, still waving. “Have a good life, girl,” Adrienne whispered at Francine’s image in her rearview mirror and then stepped on the gas and left her behind.