“She’ll run out of film before the second quarter,” Leigh said.
“She’s not really taking all those pictures. She’s just pretending so they’ll leave her alone.”
“Gee, I should have carried around a camera when I was in high school. It looks like an instant ticket to popularity.” “I’m glad you didn’t,” David said.
“Why?”
“Because then you might have taken a picture of some guy and one thing would have led to another and you’d be married now with three kids.”
“Three kids?” Leigh’s cheeks warmed and her heart started beating faster.
“Well, two at least.”
“So what would be so bad about that?”
David reached over and took her hand. “Then I’d still be a lonesome old man who might have completely forgotten how good a regular old peanut butter sandwich could be.”
Leigh leaned closer to David and didn’t even think about all the people around them who would be seeing them holding hands. It was as if they were the only two people on the bleachers. “You know, we’ve never really had that peanut butter sandwich picnic. We just keep talking about it.”
“How about tomorrow night? If it doesn’t rain. And from the looks of the weather maps, we’re not even going to get any thunder or lightning for a while. I’d thought about us maybe going to the lake, but the way Tabitha’s been feeling, I’d better stay closer to home.”
So they went on their picnic. She made the peanut butter sandwiches. David brought grapes and lemonade. They didn’t go anywhere special, just carried a blanket out into the old apple orchard behind his house since he had to stay close in case Tabitha’s baby decided to come early.
The sun was going down by the time they got the picnic spread out, but it was still hot. Leigh’s face was moist with perspiration and her hair was going frizzy. She should have borrowed some of Zella’s armor hair spray. The fruit flies and bees that had been buzzing around the faulty apples on the ground came over to check out the new feast in the area. Then before they’d taken two bites of their peanut butter sandwiches, mosquitoes started humming in their ears. To add to the country ambiance, now and again a whiff of the neighbor’s cow pasture drifted over to them.
“Maybe a picnic wasn’t such a good idea,” David said as he swatted at a mosquito on his arm.
“Or the peanut butter sandwiches,” Leigh said. “I think my mouth is going to stick together. I should have put some jelly on them.”
“Maybe lemonade will help,” David said as he poured her some out of the thermos.
She took a drink and tried to wiggle around to find a more comfortable spot on the hard ground under the blanket. David looked as uncomfortable as she was, sitting on the ground. Leigh put down her peanut butter sandwich and laughed. “You think maybe we’re too old for picnics?”
“Maybe not too old, just too sensible.” David waved his hand around his face. “Every mosquito in the county must be swarming us.”
“Zella’s going to be really disappointed.”
“Just tell her we went and let her imagine the rest. You can leave out the mosquitoes and fruit flies and the pungent country odor.” David stood up and reached down a hand to help Leigh up. “Come on. Let’s walk a little. At least then we’ll be a moving target for the mosquitoes.”
“Okay. We’ll take the food back to the house and share it with everybody later. Maybe Aunt Love can hunt us up some blackberry jam for the sandwiches.”
So maybe it wasn’t the picnic Leigh had imagined or that Zella read about in her romance novels, but it was still perfect. Absolutely, completely perfect. Even after they gathered up their things and went back inside to sit around the kitchen table and peel off the tops of the sandwiches to add Aunt Love’s blackberry jam, it was still perfect. She felt at home in David’s kitchen with David’s family. She felt at home with David.
By the time they folded papers again on Tuesday, the window in the newspaper office had been fixed. David hadn’t found anybody to paint the Hollyhill Banner name back on it, but just having the window in was a relief after a week of listening to the plastic flop in and out with every breath of air. That noise had worn on all their nerves, especially Zella’s. She was constantly rearranging the papers on her desk and patting down her hair.
Finally on Monday, David had asked her if anything was bothering her.
“No, of course not,” she’d said as she grabbed a tissue to dab the end of her nose. “Well then, of course, this with the window. And my arm.” She held up her arm where the long scratch was still an angry red. “And then Ralph and his son putting the window in this morning. They must both be deaf the way they kept yelling at one another. I mean, that would surely bother anybody. Keep them from being able to concentrate on their work. Not that I haven’t been doing my work. Of course I’ve been doing my work. I always do my work. I sold three ads this morning.”
“I know, Zella. I wouldn’t be able to get by without you. I just thought maybe there was something you wanted to talk about. Something in particular that was bothering you. Jocie and Noah haven’t been giving you a hard time, have they? Or Wes?”
Zella looked down quickly at her desk and straightened her piles of papers. “No, of course not. Not at all. I’m so relieved that Wesley is able to be back to help you. To help us all. And I’m not a bit worried about anything he says. Not a bit.”
“Good,” David said. “But just remember I’m ready to listen if you do have a complaint or a problem.”
“Problem? What kind of problem could I have? I mean, other than my roses drying up and that’s a problem everybody in Holly County is having right now. But if I did have a problem I couldn’t handle myself, why, of course, you’d be the first person I’d tell. Especially about anything here at the office.”
So she hadn’t told him what was bothering her, but something was. Still, the whole town was jumpy. Nobody wanted to talk about the storm hanging over their heads that had nothing to do with the rain they needed, but it was there. They talked about how hot it was and how ponds were drying up all over the county. They talked about how the football team had actually won a game on Friday night. They skirted around it when they talked about the coach starting three of the black boys who’d played at the black high school over in Grundy the year before. They came closer to admitting that storm clouds hung over Hollyhill when they talked about the Banner’s window getting fixed or about Mary Jo going toe to toe with Grover Flinn and serving Myra Hearndon and the Reverend and Mrs. Boyer a soft drink at the counter in the Grill.
They hadn’t wanted to look the problem in the face at Mt. Pleasant on Sunday either, although it was harder to ignore with Myra’s beautiful voice ringing out from the pews as they sang the morning hymns. Jocie and Miss Sally had sat in the pew behind Myra and kept Eli and Elise entertained. Cassidy sat with them too, the first time she’d gotten away from her mother’s side at church. Miss Sally kept putting her arm around Cassidy or touching her hand, even as she held on to Eli in her lap, to be sure Cassidy knew she wasn’t forgotten. David doubted if Miss Sally heard a word of his sermon, but he didn’t care about that. He’d never seen Miss Sally looking so happy.
She told David after church that it was as if the Lord had answered a prayer she’d never even thought to offer up for some years now, and given her a family of children to love. “You know, I’ve loved a pile of children who have grown up here in this church, but I’ve never had children reaching for my heart like these three little ones. They’re a gift straight from the Lord. I know they are. And their mother too. I know she’s not my daughter, could never be my daughter, but sometimes it feels like she is.”
“The Lord blesses us in ways we don’t always expect,” David said.
“That’s true.” Miss Sally’s smile faded away as she looked out the door toward the members who had already filed out of the church and were talking out in the yard. “But I’m afraid some of the people here at Mt. Pleasant aren’t seeing M
yra and the children as the blessings they are.”
“They’ll come around. They just need a little time.”
“Attendance is down. The offering is down,” Miss Sally said as she held up the envelope of money she’d gathered up out of the offering plates.
“It’s been a hard summer with the dry weather. And the people will be back.” David pushed as much confidence as he could into his voice. “They’ll be here for Homecoming Day in a couple of weeks.”
Miss Sally was able to believe that, and she looked relieved. “You’re probably right. People won’t want to miss Homecoming even if Myra is here. Harvey has been working on the history of the church to read. Of course he reads it every year, but he likes to go over it and make a few changes here and there, put in some new things so it won’t be the same old thing every year. You know, he’s been doing this since our father died back in 1940. And Father did it for thirty some years before that.”
“You and Harvey are the backbone of our church.” David put his hand on her arm.
She smiled and waved off the compliment. “I don’t know about that, but we do love the church. And we’re praying that we haven’t brought it harm by selling the land to Alex.” Her smile faded. “He’s a good man, Brother David. He really is. Even if he doesn’t come to church.”
“Perhaps we can pray him into wanting fellowship with us here at the church.” He squeezed her arm a little.
“And pray for the others too. And pray that those others, those that want to make trouble, will have a change of heart.” Miss Sally reached over to give David a hug. “You’re a fine pastor, Brother David. Thank you for helping me see that I don’t have to solve all the problems, that I can turn them over to the Lord.”
“That’s something I need to remind myself from time to time as well, Miss Sally.”
“Me and Harvey pray for you every day. And for the church,” Miss Sally said. “You’re at the Sandersons’ house today, aren’t you?”
“We are.”
“Did they invite Leigh?”
“I think it’s expected now that Leigh will be along.”
“Is it now?” Miss Sally’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at David. “Well, that’s good news.”
“It is,” David agreed. “And Leigh tells me you and Mr. Harvey are coming to Jocie’s birthday party Saturday afternoon.”
“That’s right. We’re looking forward to it.” Miss Sally looked around to be sure Jocie wasn’t in earshot. “The you-know-what is still a surprise, isn’t it?”
“She thinks she’s getting inner tubes for her bike tires.”
“Well, that isn’t a falsehood,” Miss Sally said with a laugh.
And so each day they managed to push the storm into the background of their lives. It was there rumbling its warnings, but nobody wanted to listen. They had other things to worry about. Rain. Birthday parties. Getting the Banner out on time. Figuring out what was wrong with Zella. Trying not to melt in the heat.
David picked up one of the Banners and looked at it as Noah and Jocie bundled the papers up to be delivered to the post office and the stores. Leigh had already left with Zella. David had whispered in her ear to find out what was wrong with Zella if she could. And Zella had smiled, really smiled for the first time since the window was knocked out, but that was just because David was whispering in Leigh’s ear.
Noah came up beside David to look at the picture of the rock on the top fold of the paper. “Do you think that will cause new trouble?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But Wes was right. We did have to print it.”
“Even if it causes more trouble.”
“The trouble is already here,” David said.
“That’s the truth,” Noah said.
David looked around at Noah. “Are things all right out at the farm?”
“As right as they can be. The pond’s still got water. Dad says there must be some kind of deep spring feeding it, so our trees are still living. And we’ve done all we can about getting ready for whatever might happen. It’s hard to know what to do when you don’t know what face is going to be on the trouble coming. But we’re keeping our eyes open and not taking chances. Mama’s promised she’ll stay away from town for a while.”
“That might be best.”
“She didn’t aim to make trouble. She just can’t help herself when somebody tells her she can’t do something. But she doesn’t want to have any dealings with those kind of men.” He touched the picture of the rock in the paper. “She’s been talking about packing up Cassidy and the twins and going to stay with Dad’s sister up in Chicago till winter. She says most of the time this kind of thing settles down a little once it starts snowing.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. Too cold to run around in sheets, maybe.” Noah attempted a joke.
David didn’t smile. “I’m sorry, Noah. I never thought anything like this would happen in Hollyhill.”
“People are just people everywhere.”
“And some of them are good people.”
“Some of them are. But some of them aren’t.”
“If anybody bothers you, you call the sheriff.”
“Are you sure he won’t be under one of the hoods himself? A lot of sheriffs down here in the South are, you know.”
“Not ours. Not Sheriff Harpson. He hates what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell Dad,” Noah said. “But you and me both know that Hoopole Road is a long way from town and the sheriff’s office.” Noah turned his eyes back to the picture on the paper. “And they couldn’t even protect you here right in the middle of town.”
38
Tabitha woke up early Saturday morning. It was too hot to sleep late even if she hadn’t been too miserable to sleep. She was beginning to wonder just how big her stomach was going to get. The doctor said everything was just fine, that she wasn’t too big, but Tabitha felt huge. She waddled instead of walked. It took a major effort to get up out of a chair. Sometimes Aunt Love had to help her. She couldn’t even reach her toenails to paint them. She wasn’t sure she still had toes, it had been so long since she’d seen them.
Aunt Love promised her it wouldn’t be long now. That she looked ready, whatever that meant. But the doctor said it could be two more weeks. That was what he said every time she went. He put his cold stethoscope on her belly until he found Stephanie Grace’s heartbeat, then he smiled and said to come back next week. He hadn’t even told her to pack her suitcase for the hospital yet, but of course she had. She had an overnight case with a robe and two nighties and a bed jacket Leigh had given her and the pink terry cloth sleeper for Stephanie Grace to wear home.
It was the only pink one she had, and she’d had to buy it herself. The people at church had given her a shower in the church basement one Sunday afternoon a month ago, but they’d given her yellow and green sleepers and gowns and such. To be safe, they said, in case she had a boy instead of a girl. The mothers all had stories about expecting girls and having boys, or expecting boys and having girls. They told her there was no way to be sure until somebody invented a way to look through your belly into the womb, and there wasn’t much chance of that happening.
Tabitha had felt okay on Friday, and a good thing, with having to help Aunt Love get ready for Jocie’s big birthday party. Of course it wasn’t a surprise like Tabitha’s party had been back in July. Jocie knew they were having cake and ice cream for her that afternoon. She’d even helped with the cleaning and getting ready. Wes was coming, and Zella. Miss Sally and Mr. Harvey had promised to come too.
Miss Sally was such a sweetheart. She’d probably bring Tabitha something new for the baby even though she’d already given her the sweetest cradle. Mr. Harvey had pulled it out of their attic, and Miss Sally had painted it white and made a little mattress for it and bumper pads with rainbows on them. The cradle was up in Tabitha’s room just waiting for Stephanie Grace with all the sleepers and diapers and soft receiving blankets folded up in it.
> And of course Leigh was coming. Leigh was a fixture now. Tabitha didn’t mind. She was glad her father had decided to fall in love. Even if Leigh wasn’t all that much older than Tabitha herself. She was old enough. And Tabitha’s father needed somebody who loved him that way, that man-and-wife way. For sure, DeeDee had never loved him properly, if at all.
Tabitha tried to push DeeDee out of her mind. She hadn’t expected it to bother her when DeeDee didn’t write her or call. But it had. Her father said that was natural enough. A girl needed a mother when she was getting ready to be a mother herself. Not that DeeDee would have been much help that way. She’d never wanted to be a mother. Had never really been much of a mother even though she’d seen to Tabitha’s physical needs over the years.
Tabitha caught her long hair up in a ponytail and then tucked the hair under and pinned it up. It was too hot for long hair. She thought about just taking some scissors and whacking it all off, but it was probably cooler tucked up off her neck. She dropped her hands back down and rubbed her lower back.
Her back was giving her fits. If it hadn’t been Jocie’s birthday, she’d have fixed her bed up with lots of pillows, turned the fan so it would blow right on her, and gone back to bed for a while. She’d never had a backache quite this bad. It seemed to come in spasms. But for Jocie, she’d have to try to ignore it. She didn’t want to spoil her party.
The party was at two, the hottest part of the day, but nobody had parties in the morning, and once the day had heated up, it stayed hot until midnight anyway. The forecast had been the same all week. Hot and dry. Too hot for September. Tabitha remembered crisp fall days in September from when she was a child in Hollyhill. Mornings when she had to wear a sweater. Evenings when her grandmother, Mama Mae, talked about lighting a fire in the fireplace. But nobody needed to light a fire to keep warm so far this September.
By the time Leigh showed up with the cake and Zella and Wes, Tabitha had given up trying to help Aunt Love. She was just sitting in front of the fan and holding her ice-water glass against first one cheek then the other one to cool down. Her back was hurting even worse than when she got up, but she thought she could make it two more hours. By then the party would be over. Jocie would have her new bike, and Tabitha could just go to bed and try to go to sleep and block out the pain. Something was always hurting when you got this far along carrying a baby, or that was what the other mothers at church were always telling her.
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