Wedding Belles

by Beth Albright

  I knew one thing: if Walter was pushed to his fate, this new wife couldn’t have done it herself. A busty blonde that attractive would certainly have been noticed on that barge full of men. It seemed this case was far from closed.

  17

  Kitty met me for our lunch date at the Fifteenth Street Diner right at noon. I loved the fried green tomatoes, and Kitty loved their fried chicken. Though to be fair, Kitty loved everybody’s fried chicken. The small café was so homey and comfortable. Decorated to look like a 1950s diner, it had laminate tables and vinyl chairs with chrome accents. And they had some of the best home cooking in Tuscaloosa.

  Kitty was already there when I arrived, sitting in a booth and talking to the waitress. I walked over to her and hugged her hello.

  “Hey, Mother, I am so glad we could meet. I don’t have long, but this place is just what I needed today.”

  “You need comfort food?” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Blake Elizabeth?”

  God, she always could read me like a book.

  “Can’t a girl just call her own mother for lunch without a deposition?” I asked, sitting down on the red leather cushion.

  “Why, of course, my dear, but I know my daughter. Now spill, sugar. You got that look.”

  “What is it with everybody today? Wanda Jo thought I had some look, too, this morning. Maybe it’s the heat.”

  “I don’t think either of us were talkin’ ’bout the weather.” She bit the arm of her bedazzled reading glasses like she always did when she was thinking, raised her eyebrows at me, then glanced down at the menu.

  “I know. I do need to talk, and you were the safest bet.” And truth be told, I did need my mother’s advice. She had a way of making things simple and less dramatic.

  “Well, that’s what mothers are for.” She smiled, and I knew it made her happy that I still needed her. After the waitress took our orders, we talked small talk until she showed up with the deep-fried Southern treats. Once she’d left us alone again, I took a deep breath and told Kitty all the confusion I was feeling.

  “Well, Mother, the thing is, I know it’s no secret to you, but I’m in love with Sonny.”

  “Did you think I needed a plate full of fried food for you to tell me this? I have known that as a fact for over twenty years,” she said, popping a pickle in her mouth. “And guess what, I’ve got a news flash for you. Sonny is in love with you, too. Now that that’s all settled, let’s hear the real story.”

  I took a bite of a tomato and cleared my throat. “I just have a lot on my mind, you know? I mean, I know my marriage with Harry is over, and he knows it, too, but we’re in this really awkward period where he’s running for office, and I’m playing the part of the happy, supportive, politician’s wife.”

  “I know, baby, and I know you hate pretending, but it’s all just temporary,” she said.

  “But, Mother, it feels like an eternity. It’s gotta last all the way till November. I just can’t stand it! I wanna be with Sonny so bad.”

  “Who says you can’t? You just gotta be careful, is all. It is a sticky situation for sure, with the campaign, the TV reporters, and in the middle of it, your marriage ending. Trust me, honey, I understand. But, as with everything in life, temporary is the word of the day. It will get you through anything.”

  I knew that was Kitty’s mantra. All four of her marriages were just that—temporary. It was scary and reassuring at the same time. Yet she’d survived. In fact, from the look of her, she’d done better than survived. She’d thrived.

  I guess I was just a bit spoiled. I wanted what I wanted. And what I wanted was Sonny. And I didn’t want to wait till November to have him. But I had no choice.

  “Let’s just play this out,” Kitty said, thinking out loud. “The worst-case scenario is that news gets out that you and Harry are splitting up, right?”

  “Mother!” I said. “Keep it down. We are in public and people will hear you.” I looked around nervously. “No, actually that is not the worst that could happen,” I said. Kitty stopped eating and looked up at me. She raised her eyebrows. “The worst that could happen is—” I leaned forward to make sure no one could hear me “—is if anyone hears that I’m sleeping with Sonny. If it gets out that Harry Heart’s wife is having an affair with the chief homicide investigator, all three of us are ruined.”

  The magnitude of the situation suddenly nauseated me. I put down my fork and looked up at my mother. I could see the concern in her eyes. She leaned forward and placed her hand on mine.

  “Listen to me, baby. Nothing of the kind is gonna happen to you. You simply make sure you and Sonny are never caught. Try to limit your time with him and always stay behind closed and locked doors. Be careful in public. Once again, temporary is the word. It won’t be easy, but, baby, the best things never are. It will all be over before you know it.”

  She patted my hand and smiled a Sassy Belle smile at me. A sign of unity and strength that I’d recognized since childhood. It told me it would all be okay.

  “But, Mother, what about Dallas?” I asked her point-blank. “I got the feeling last time we talked that she knew something about my...situation. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I just don’t trust her.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t put anything past her, so be careful. I’m sure she already knows what’s going on with all three of you. You know Dallas. If there’s gossip to be heard, she’s already got the details. What she doesn’t have is the proof. But I don’t think you need to be so concerned about her. I’m sure she’s got enough going on that she isn’t consumed with thoughts of you and Harry every minute.”

  “No, but she would love nothing more than a good juicy story, so she can get her face back on a billboard. She could build a three-ring circus with all of this,” I said, shaking my head at the thought.

  “Still...without solid proof, she’s got nothing to report. And it seems to me there’s plenty of juicy stories that would be easier for her to dig up,” Kitty said.

  “What do you mean?” I interrupted.

  “Well, Harry is seen pretty often these days with that self-absorbed Judge Shamblin. And he did vote with her on the rezoning of the Brooks Mansion. I don’t know for sure, of course, but if it walks like a duck... Well, you just never do know.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But it still wouldn’t be as big as the news about me and Sonny.”

  “Oh, really? I beg to differ,” Kitty said, putting her chicken leg down and wiping her mouth. She leaned into me again.

  “Harry, the senatorial candidate, having an affair with the most powerful judge in town? Come on, no one would even be interested in your story.” She smiled.

  Kitty had a way of putting it all into perspective. I relaxed and took a swig of tea. She was right. And I suddenly felt better.

  “Look, sugar, all we can do is all we can do. Be careful. It’s temporary. End of story.” Kitty sat back and motioned to the waitress for more tea.

  “Now, you’ve got a rally to get to, so put on a Tony-winning performance and make sure you don’t get caught doing anything stupid. I was gonna say, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ but, hell, it’s too late for that.” She laughed at herself, and I laughed with her.

  It was a release of all the tension that had built up over the past few days. And I wouldn’t forget it. I was starting to value my mother on a whole new level. Not just as my mother, but also my friend. I needed her. And that felt good. She supported me unconditionally. I wanted to be like that when I became a mother.

  I paid the bill, though in typical Kitty fashion, she argued with me about it. I walked Kitty to her car and hugged her.

  “Now remember, put your red lipstick on and stand by that soon-to-be ex-husband of yours and perform like your life depends on it. The sooner we get that man to Washington, the better.” Kitty got into he
r white Lexus and waved goodbye with her bangles jingling.

  Okay, I said to myself. Curtain up. It’s showtime.

  18

  As I drove through the center of town, I saw the billboards announcing the big citywide celebration at Lewis’s new radio station and the grand opening of the Brooks Mansion in just a few short weeks. We’d have Vivi’s shower then, too. And by that time, surely Lewis would be a free man.

  On the billboard, Lewis was pictured by the wonderful old antebellum home and the new call letters WCTR in the center of the sign. It was one of many billboards going up all over town.

  When I arrived at Snow Hinton Park, the tents were up and grandstands had been erected for the crowds to sit and listen to all the rhetoric.

  The two white canopies were full of campaign banners and bumper stickers, buttons and little flags, all for sale. Cold soft drinks and bottles of water were in large metal buckets filled with ice and were free to anyone who made a donation or bought a piece of memorabilia.

  A large stage was constructed facing a little grove of trees, so the voters could sit in the shade to listen. A wooden podium was placed right in the middle of the stage and a huge banner hung motionless in the stagnant hot air. Follow Your Heart to Washington. Harry’s slogan was all over town, on cars, on billboards and in the media. He and Lewis both were the new favorite sons of Tuscaloosa.

  I tried to keep in mind what Kitty had said: The sooner we get that man to Washington, the better. So true. I decided to get out there today and do my best to make that happen.

  Temporary. My new mantra.

  I made my way over to Dan, since Harry was busy talking with voters. His sleeves were rolled up, his shirt open at the top button with no tie. He was casual, and Harry was never dressed casual. I knew he had to be uncomfortable without his tie and trademark cuff links.

  I guess this would be a Broadway show for both of us.

  He looked up and caught my eye as he shook hands with a supporter. He smiled at me, obviously glad to see me there to help stage the performance. “Hey there, Mr. Campaign Manager,” I said to Dan, deciding to be really friendly and agreeable. It would shock both of them, but it would make my acting job easier. “How’s it going?” I leaned in and gave Dan a sideways hug.

  “We’re good,” Dan said. “You look great. Perfect for a hot summer day in the Deep South and perfect for a future senator’s wife.”

  I guess Dan just had to size me up. It was his nature, assessing the image and figuring how well it would play to Harry’s public. Dan was the spin doctor, and I seemed to have passed his exam.

  “Go over with Harry, if you want. I’m sure he’d like you to meet his supporters. But after that, Blake, we need to talk.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Great. Can’t wait,” I said with my award-winning grin.

  I walked over to Harry, and he welcomed me into the little circle of people.

  “Here’s my lovely wife, now. Blake O’Hara Heart, she’s my rock,” he said, smiling. Okay, contest over. He’d win the Tony for sure. Everyone reached out their hands to shake mine. I smiled and shook back. Harry put his arm around my waist. We looked like the happy political couple.

  “Nice to meet, y’all,” I said. “Thanks so much for joining us today in this unbearable heat.”

  Once I’d had a chance to greet most of Harry’s biggest supporters, we headed back together toward the stage.

  “Thanks for coming today, Blake,” Harry said as we made our way to the podium where Dan was waiting. “I know you had a busy morning, but I needed you here today.”

  I smiled at him and nodded, letting him know it was okay.

  “We do what we need to do,” I said, envisioning him in Washington. “I am here for you.”

  “Well, I know you could be elsewhere, so I appreciate it. It helps,” he said, then headed over to Dan.

  I watched him walk away from me, his stride still as confident as it had been when I’d first fallen for him. But now, I realized, standing there in the dripping heat, I felt so differently about him. Maybe we could be friends eventually, once some of the hurt between us eased, but it was clear that what I had with Sonny already felt deeper than what I’d ever had with Harry. I watched him shake Dan’s hand, a two-handed shake that was Harry’s calling card. He could look you in the eye as if no one existed but you. He had that political way about him, and he and Dan made a great team.

  The reporters began to arrive, and crews set up cameras alongside the stage. Newspaper people and TV journalists from all over the state were propping up tripods and doing test shots. Of course Dallas was also there claiming her spot.

  The election was still three months away but Harry made sure he was at every dog and pony show he could find, since that’s where you’d find opposing candidate Bullhorn McGraw. His real name was Robert James—Bobby J. for short—but ever since he began campaigning he’d been called Bullhorn because he stumped from the back of a pickup truck using a bullhorn and making a ton of racket.

  As Harry found himself amid another group of supporters, Dan took the opportunity to approach me.

  “Blake, how about that chat?”

  “Sure, Dan. What’s up?”

  “Well,” he began, as he walked me away from the podium to the back of the stage, “we both know you and Harry are all but done.” He was whispering. “The thing is, no one else knows. We’ve kept up the show pretty damn well if you ask me. But we gotta be careful. We’re only a few months out and everybody’s gonna be snooping around, looking for dirt.”

  Harry must’ve told him about the near collision with Sonny in my office. So much for that being a “private” meeting.

  “I know, Dan,” I said, sounding a tad defensive I was sure. “I think I’ve been keeping up the show pretty damn well myself.”

  “I think you need to talk with Harry and make this plan official. Nothing changes. Nothing is filed, whatsoever, until after the election. Divorce and campaigns just don’t mix well, unless it’s the divorce of your opponent.”

  I was starting to feel like he didn’t trust me not to blow this whole act. “Look, Dan, I’m not the one who took a little nibble on the breast of a certain reporter last spring. Out in broad daylight, mind you. I know what I have to do and I think I’ve been doing it rather well, thank you. And I think you should also keep in mind that I am doing you and Harry a pretty big favor here. There’s no law that says I have to keep up this charade, but I’m doing it because I think Harry deserves to win this election. Despite everything that’s happened, he is technically my husband and I do care about him. I don’t take this situation lightly, you know.”

  “Fine, you and I may have an understanding, but maybe you need to have a little chat with Harry. With the election so close, he gets really wound up about these sorts of things.” He nodded toward the stage.

  “Yeah, he looks really wound up....” I said, looking at Harry, who was standing with a certain Judge Jane Shamblin, his arm around her waist and his lips on her cheek. Jane wasn’t all that attractive, but maybe that didn’t matter to Harry. Her blond hair was always in an impeccable chignon, and she wore skirt suits everywhere. Add cuff links and she could be a female version of Harry. He wanted to win this senate race as much as he wanted his next breath, and Judge Jane Shamblin was his secret weapon. She came from a long line of judges, all very wealthy and successful. Harry was smart to align with her. She could make sure he got elected. Her family had that kind of power.

  Dan frowned. “Okay, you do have a point. I’ll talk to him. Take care and thanks for being so...understanding.” He nodded, then turned and walked toward Harry at a clip, mumbling something about not being a fireman and hating having to constantly put out fires.

  Just then I heard the loud nauseating bellow of the bullhorn. Wouldn’t you know it; there was Bobby J. and his entourage
. Without fail, wherever Harry was, Bullhorn McGraw showed up in the back of a green Ford pickup truck. He sat in a lawn chair with his son, who doubled as his campaign manager. Bobby J.’s wife, Doralyn, was also by his side.

  “Hey, y’all, my good citizens of Tuscaloosa! Sho’ is hot out here. Wanna fan?” He bellowed the greeting through his bullhorn as he passed out paper fans with his big face pictured on the front. This was not good.

  Oh, the fans were a fabulous idea, but seeing as how today’s temperature hovered at something like ninety-nine degrees with ninety-nine percent humidity, I was starting to envision Bullhorn’s face waving all over as Harry tried to speak. There were hundreds of them. Bullhorn’s motto, Send Your Bullhorn to Washington, Have Your Voice Heard, would be fanning back and forth in rhythm to Harry’s great stump speech. For someone who acted so dumb, Bobby J. was pretty smart.

  He was a rotund man, and he wore a white short-sleeved shirt and khaki gabardine pants. The pants were a tad too long, his shirt a bit too tight, and he was wearing his ever-present suspenders. He was about forty-five years old, but looked older.

  He used to own a car dealership and starred in all the TV commercials himself. At the end of each one, he would say, “Bobby J.’s got your new car in stock right now.” Then he’d snap his suspenders and wink to the camera. Those suspenders were part of his image, just like Harry’s cuff links were part of his.

  Noticing the commotion Bullhorn had created, Dan rushed over to his interns and gave them instructions. Harry had obviously been instructed to leave Judge Shamblin’s side and get his butt behind the stage for his grand entry.

  I decided to go chat with Harry while Dan and the interns handled Bullhorn.

  “Harry, let’s talk for a second, okay?” I began. “I want you to know I will not do anything to hurt your campaign. I am not planning on moving ahead with our divorce until after the election.”