Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes
Liz walked o
ut to the group that faithfully watched over the pig. “How’s Porkchop doing?”
“Just grand, Ms.
Hoole. He’s gonna be good.”
“What time you think he’ll be done?”
“Easily by seven—probably earlier. Then we’ll spread out the coals and just keep him warm.”
“Who are
Spanky and Buck?” she asked. Two young men waved their hands. Buck was tall and lanky with a moustache and close cropped beard he’d undoubtedly grown to hide his baby face. Spanky was shorter and heavier with blond sideburns, a throwback to the Elvis days. “Which one of you made the sauce?”
“I did, Ms.
Hoole,” Buck said proudly.
“Vinegar based or tomato based?”
“Ah, Ms. Hoole,” Buck let out a little puff and kicked some sand with his foot. “Anybody knows that Eastern Carolina only has vinegar-based barbecue sauce. I wouldn’t insult Nat by serving tomato-based at his wedding.”
“Well, I didn’t know
, with Frogbelly from Georgia and all,” Liz said.
“No ma’am, I sure wouldn’t have let that happen.
”
“What else you got in it?”
“Not much else, a little red pepper. I used to add some brown sugar every now and then, but don’t do that anymore. I decided the sugar sweetened it up too much.”
“Don’t let it dry out.”
“No, ma’am, I got a Cadillac cooker. See here?” He pointed to a thermostat on the side of the cooker. “Keepin’ her between two-fifty and two-sixty degrees. We started out lower this morning, but I’ve moved it up a bit.”
“All right, Buck
. Sounds like you know more about barbecue than I do so I’m leaving it up to you. I wanna thank you boys for your work here today.”
“Our pleasure.”
Sophie left to pick up her family and Liz did a quick change into a comfortable slacks outfit. Big Gus, the banjo player, showed up and began to set up his microphone next to the barrel of moon pies on the deck. The sun began to set on the marsh and the evening became cool. The salt air brought back memories of a few summer vacations at the board walk when they added a week to their annual St. Paul excursions. Sea gulls glided effortlessly above the waves. The first bus of guests arrived and the second one followed shortly.
D
ishes filled with roasted peanuts right out of the fields of Cedar Branch served a crowd that was congenial and talkative. The background banjo added a lot. When it was time to start serving the pig, Chase stepped to the microphone to welcome everyone. He ended by saying, “Nat has asked that his namesake, his grandfather, Nathan Hoole, offer a blessing before we get started.”
Liz had been unaware that Nat has asked Grandpa to say anything
. Quakers rarely offered up a blessing other than a moment of silence before a meal, so she was quite touched by the gesture and curious as to what, if anything, Grandpa would say.
“Thank you,” Grandpa said quietly as he took the microphone and lowered his head in response to polite applause
. “It is a pleasure for my wife Euphrasia and me to be here this evening and be part of this celebration. We feel fortunate to have lived long enough to witness the marriage of our grandchildren and we hope to be around when it’s time to greet some of our great-grandchildren.” There followed a few shouts and claps.
“In Quaker tradition, we ask for a few moments of silence before a meal to give quiet appreciation for the food that has been given us
, and to those who have prepared it in our honor. Please join me now in silence.”
A
fter some nervous whispers and rustling, everyone became still. Silence has a profound effect because it is so rarely used; the transition was noticeable. Liz sensed the rhythms of nature: the sound of the waves, the caress of the wind against her cheek, the intense appreciation for the moment, the family and friends. She couldn’t help but think of Maggie and offered an earnest prayer that the treatment was working – that Maggie was feeling more like her old self. Then in an unusually strong voice, Grandpa broke the silence:
“
It is with humble gratitude, Oh God, that we seek
b
lessings on Lexa and Nat and their families and friends.
Countless ancestors who have bequeathed to us the rich and
undeserved heritage with which we are blessed have molded our lives.
We give thanks for their sacrifices and for their vision and for
their constant acknowledgements of Your Divine Being and care.
As our histories and values become woven into the life tapestries of the next
generation, keep us ever mindful of our many and bountiful blessings, and
o
f our love for and responsibilities toward one another.
Amen.
”
Oh, Grandpa,
Liz thought
. How perfect. How beautiful. Thank you.
Porkchop
was served up with drama and fanfare and unlimited praise for the BS Frogbelly Big-Pig-Team. Big Gus and his banjo proved a delightful addition with the likes of “Reuben’s Train,” “Cripple Creek” and “Dueling Banjos,” and Gus also took center stage a couple of times with a few vocals.
Around
8:00 p.m., Adam stepped to the microphone. “I’m Adam,” he said, “Nat’s brother. I’m younger than he is, shorter than he is, a little heavier than he is and a whole lot better looking than he is.” Light laughter.
“
Lexa, when you get one Hoole, you get us all. So make sure you’ve always got the guestroom ready.” Adam raised his beer and a cheer went up.
Next
Frogbelly stepped up to the microphone. “Now Nat’s good brother, Adam here, would have you believe that Nat is about the smartest guy around. But I’m here to tell you that everything Nat has learned about money, liquor and women, he’s learned from me.”
A hoot went up from the KA brothers around the deck
.
Out of the corner of her eye Liz noticed
Euphrasia with her eyes cast down. Grandpa had a hint of a smile on his face. Across from Liz, her father was enjoying the evening immensely, while her mother, sitting with Louise Lloyd, appeared amused. Nicholas and Evan remained center stage among several attractive young ladies.
“I want to give you some examples of a few of the many ways I helped Nat out,”
Frogbelly continued. “In fact, if the truth be known, if it weren’t for me Lexa probably wouldn’t have given Nat the time of day. Let me tell you how Nat Hoole operated before I took charge. Do you know what the first gift was that Nat gave to Lexa after he started to date her? You’re probably thinking flowers? Candy? Not even close. On the third date, to show her his deep affection, Nat Hoole gave her a mug with her name on it!”
Hoots erupted from the crowd
.
“On the next date he gave her a mug with
his
name on it.”
Lexa
nodded as the laughter reached an elevated pitch.
“At Christmas he gave her a coffee drip machine
, and for her birthday he gave her an assortment of gourmet coffees.”
Another round of laughter
.
“
Lexa, Lexa, Lexa, I don’t know why you stuck with him. At this point I sat down with him and said, ‘Now Nat, if you’re really serious about this girl, then you need help. I don’t know how they do things back in the sticks of Eastern North Carolina, but your KA brothers are gonna teach you some tricks of the trade.’”
Frogbelly became even more animated. “Number one – never give a girl anything that plugs in. Number two – any kind of glassware you ever wanted, you will get as a wedding gift.”
Applause and more cheers from the crowd. “And number three – unless you’re picking up the tab in a restaurant, forget food, it’s a no-winner
. Nat, there are only a few choices you have. Diamonds are always good. Did you get your diamond, Lexa?”
Lexa
nodded.
“Thank
me
for that,” Frogbelly said with loud exaggeration. “If left to Nat you’d have gotten an engagement watch.” Everyone laughed again.
Frogbelly
was now completely unstoppable. “In all seriousness, Nat is not just a good guy – he’s one of the greats. I have a little story to tell you that shows what a special guy he is and why I’m so proud to be his friend. Last Friday night we had a small bachelor party planned for Nat with some KA brothers. Then we were all going to play golf on Saturday morning. Nat’s mom, Miz Hoole…” Frogbelly acknowledged Liz with a wave of his hand.
“
Miz Hoole over there called on Tuesday to see if there was any way that Nat could drive up to Duke Medical Center on Saturday morning and donate some platelets for a friend in Cedar Branch who is having chemotherapy. Did Nat hesitate? Did he say to his mom, I’ve got a bunch of friends here for the weekend, can’t do it? No, he did not. In fact, IN FACT—he took four of us up with him and made us give blood, too. We were all up there by nine in the morning, postponed our tee time until one and were back in Charlotte to play golf. But the biggest sacrifice of all, was that he wouldn’t let any of us drink beer on Friday night.”
A roar of
disbelief erupted from a table in the corner. Frogbelly nodded appreciatively: ”Now, if that isn’t enough, Nat and Lexa have actually postponed their honeymoon by one day and changed their tickets to leave from Raleigh-Durham so that Nat can drive up to Duke again on Monday and give one more pint before they leave. What kind of guy gives two pints of blood on the week he’s getting married? I gotta give it to you, Lexa, you’re getting a heck of a man and you’re a hell of a woman to put up with it all. You be good to each other, hear? A toast to Nat and Lexa.”
As t
he crowd applauded, the blood drained from Liz’s face. She dared not look at Chase. Instead she glanced at her mother, who shot her a quizzical look. Forty-five minutes later, Chase rose to present the final toast and to thank everyone for coming.
Nothing registered with Liz the remainder of the evening
. She shook hands with people as they left, and climbed on the last bus with Nicolas and Evan while Chase stayed behind to help clean-up. As Liz walked past the rows of those already seated, Grandpa’s eyes met Liz. Without speaking, they both knew that Chase had now connected the dots.
The next morning Chase and Liz stepped out of the elevator with Nicholas and Evan and headed to the restaurant. Chase had said little more than two words to Liz since the evening before; she felt responsible for the tension between them. In her mind she kept going over what she could possibly do or say to reassure him that she wanted to be truthful, but the answer eluded her. This was the day that had been on their calendars for almost a year now. She wanted it to be perfect in every way. She wanted Chase to recognize her dilemma, and hold her in his arms as he’d always done in the past when they’d had a misunderstanding.
“No time for breakfast, dear,” Liz’s mother saw her coming and rose from her chair immediately
. “Grab a cup of coffee.” She turned and looked at Chase. “The boys with you for the day?”
He nodded
. “We’re going to finish the clean-up out at the beach.”
“Good,” Barbara said, turning back to Liz and pointing to the door
. “Let’s go.”
Liz shot a glance at Chase, but he had already directed the boys to a nearby table where Grandma and Grandpa
Hoole sat at breakfast. “Mom, I really don’t have time to look for wigs, and everyone saw me bald last night anyway.”
“Not everyone, dear,” her mother interjected. “Let’s just spend a couple of hours. You never know, we might happen upon exactly the right thing. Besides, what else do you have to do?”
She was right. What else does the mother of the groom do on the wedding day? Her moment in the sun had passed with the rehearsal dinner.
Barbara again tipped the valet generously after he pulled the car around. “Lovely party last night,” she commented as she fastened her seatbelt and Liz got in behind the steering wheel.
“Aren’t Nat’s friends great?” Liz said. Her mother’s compliment meant a lot and evidently the port-a-potties placement had been discreet enough to be overlooked. “They did a nice job with the barbecue, didn’t they?”
“Yes, Nat’s friends are great,” her mother agreed. “You look tired, honey.”
“I’m just too keyed up. Didn’t sleep well. Sat up waiting for Chase to get back. He was exhausted by the time he came in.”
Barbara surveyed the homes as they turned right around Colonial Lake. “Charleston doesn’t look bad, given Hurricane Hugo only a couple of years ago. I expected worse,” she said.
“They’ve done a tremendous amount of rebuilding. Chase and I came down in 1990 for a conference. Things were pretty bad then.” Liz said as she turned left on Calhoun.