by Cathy Holton
Lavonne and Eadie sat at a table near the band sipping bottles of spring water. “How pathetic are we?” Eadie asked, raising her bottle.
“Look, we're getting too old to drink like we've been doing. My liver can't take it anymore.”
“Speak for yourself,” Eadie said.
Loretta and Eustis James shuffled by, two-stepping to “You Really Got Me.”
“Show them how it's done, Loretta,” Eadie hooted, holding her bottle high.
Loretta stopped to catch her breath. “Y'all need to get up off your asses and shake a hoof,” she said. “Ain't nothing better for a hangover than a little exercise.”
“I assume that's the voice of experience talking, Loretta.” Lavonne sipped her water. “Is she hard to keep up with, Eustis?”
“Naw,” he said. “Her bark's worse than her bite.”
Across the yard, Clarissa Derryberry had arrived and was being pushed across the lawn in her wheelchair by a whooping Harry Junior.
“There's that goddamned blazer again,” Eadie said.
“Someone said they saw her at Disneyworld in July,” Lavonne said, “being wheeled through the park in a blazer and a scarf.”
“Got more money than she's got sense,” Loretta said, motioning to Eustis that it was time to get back to dancing. “You girls need to get up on your feet and plow some new ground.”
Lavonne looked blank, but Eadie said, “You got any other words of wisdom for us, Loretta?”
“Never play leapfrog with a unicorn,” she said, as she and Eustis trundled off.
Sunlight fell from a bright blue sky. In the distance, the river glistened, moving slowly between banks of cedar and willow and pine. Lavonne stretched her legs and stood up. “I better go check on the buffet line,” she said. “Do you want me to bring you a plate?”
Eadie wrinkled her nose. “I can't think about eating right now,” she said. “But bring me a glass of red wine.”
“You're kidding.”
“Do I look like I'm kidding?”
Lavonne shrugged. “It's your liver,” she said.
AFTER A WHILE, JIMMY LEE LET ANOTHER FRIEND TAKE OVER ON the drums so he could dance with his bride. Anyone looking at them would have thought they were like any other happy young couple just starting out. No one would have guessed that Nita was thirteen years older than Jimmy Lee or that she had teenage children. She looked so young and pretty dancing in her husband's arms. The band was playing, “When a Man Loves a Woman,” and looking up into his handsome face, Nita felt like she might be living a dream. She remembered the dark days of her marriage to Charles Broadwell, shut up in his big old house in River Oaks, feeling like she was being slowly entombed and counting the days until her children would be grown and flown away to freedom.
Married to Charles, Nita had had every material comfort she could want, but she hadn't been able to imagine happiness. She hadn't been able to imagine a future with a man like Jimmy Lee Motes.
He kissed her gently. “I love you, Nita.”
“I love you, too.”
“And I'm sorry about not being able to afford a proper honeymoon.” The money in the bank was Nita's and Jimmy Lee wouldn't touch it. He had too much pride for that.
“You know I don't care about any of that stuff.”
He frowned, looking past her shoulder. “But, honey, I promise. Things are going to get better.” Lately, he'd been ordering tapes off the Internet on how to make a million dollars in real estate with no money down. He stayed up long after she'd gone to bed and drove off to work every morning with the tapes blaring in his truck. “I've got plans for our future,” he said.
“I don't care about any of that, Jimmy.” Every time a new tape arrived, Nita got a queer feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like someone had punched her or left her stranded at the top of a tall swaying ladder. She said, “I'm happy just the way we are.”
“I want to be able to give you things. I want to be able to provide for my family.”
Nita shivered. Somewhere off in the cold dark woods beyond the river, tragedy waited. She could smell it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to convince Jimmy Lee that she didn't need a big house and diamond jewelry and exotic vacations. She had had all that before and it hadn't meant a thing. All she needed was him.
The sun disappeared behind a bank of high-flying clouds. Nita was suddenly cold. Goose bumps rose on her arms. As if to confirm her premonition of disaster, a car turned slowly into the sandy drive.
Virginia Redmon had arrived.
“KATY BAR THE DOOR,” LORETTA SAID, APPEARING SUDDENLY AT Nita's elbow. “Look who just showed up.”
“Now, Mama,” Nita said.
“The nerve of that woman, showing up to crash your wedding.”
“She's not crashing my wedding.” Nita smoothed the bodice of her wedding gown. “I invited her.”
Loretta stared at her in disbelief. “Are you crazy?” she said finally. “Honey, have you lost your marbles?”
Nita walked away from her, across the lawn toward the big table where Eadie, Lavonne, and Grace Pearson sat nursing their drinks. Loretta trailed behind her like a sturgeon caught on a trotline, and Jimmy Lee brought up the rear. Nita was hoping that being around other people might keep her mother quiet, but the odds of that happening were, she knew, pretty slim.
Eadie, Lavonne, and Grace were talking about this year's Kudzu Ball. “That's just about the best fun I ever had,” Lavonne said. “If it was any more fun, it couldn't be legal.”
“Tell me about it,” Grace said.
“Y'all try not to rub it in because I missed it,” Eadie said.
The Kudzu Ball was held every year in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It was a parody of the high-browed Ithaca Cotillion Ball that was thrown every year by the cream of Ithaca society. Mothers worked behind the scenes for years to get their daughters presented at the Ithaca Cotillion, but Kudzu debutantes could present themselves. Anyone could be a debutante. The only prerequisite was that you had to be female (or look female—there was a growing contingency of female impersonators who showed up every year from places like Atlanta or Birmingham or Charlotte), you had to wear the tackiest ball gown you could find, and you had to wear some kind of headgear made from kudzu vine. Whether or not to use an alias was entirely up to the individual debutante. Lavonne had gone to the ball two years straight as Ima Badass, and Eadie had gone that first year as Aneeda Mann. She had missed this year's throw-down because she'd been in New York with Trevor while he met with his agent and strategized about becoming the next John Grisham.
“I'll never miss another Kudzu Ball for as long as I live,” Eadie said, stubbornly shaking her head.
Grace said, “Yeah, we missed you. I guess you heard they crowned Rosebud queen.” She was wearing a long, red, flowered dress, a jeans jacket, and a pair of chunky-heeled shoes. It was one of the few times anyone had ever seen her in a dress.
“Yeah, I heard,” Eadie said. “Rosebud's the perfect Kudzu Queen.”
Rosebud Smoot was one of only three female attorneys in town, and she made her living defending the ex-wives of lawyers, doctors, and corporate executives who couldn't find legal representation among the closed, old- boy network that was Ithaca, Georgia.
“I can promise you this, girls,” Eadie said, lifting her wineglass. “I'll never miss another Kudzu Ball. Ever. Fuck New York. Fuck Trevor Boone and his big-ass book deals.”
“Hey, that's my lawyer you're talking about,” Grace said. Trevor had represented her years ago in a libel suit filed by an overzealous county commissioner, and they'd been good friends ever since. “And speaking of my lawyer, where is he?” Grace grinned her lopsided grin and there was something in her expression that reminded Eadie of Trevor. She felt suddenly lonesome for him. She hadn't asked him to come, but she should have.
“He stayed in New Orleans. He's trying to finish his second novel before the first one comes out and he has to travel.” She smiled at Nita who had moved up to the table wi
th her husband on one side of her and her mother on the other. Loretta looked stressed out. She kept glancing over her shoulder toward the makeshift parking lot. “Well, here's the wedding party now,” Eadie said.
“So old Trevor couldn't make it?” Jimmy Lee said to Eadie.
“No, old Trevor couldn't come. Although he says to tell you and Nita that he's sorry he missed your wedding and he wishes you the best of luck in your future matrimonial endeavors.”
“That sounds like something a writer would say.”
“Hey, Loretta,” Grace said.
Loretta, who'd been craning her neck to check out the parking lot, stopped and swung around. “Well, hey, yourself,” she said. She came around the table to give Grace a hug. She had grown up with Grace's parents in Vienna, pronounced Vi-anna, a little farming town east of Ithaca. “How's your mama and daddy?” she asked. “I don't get back to see them much anymore.”
“They're good. Daddy still jumps when Mama hollers frog, but other than that they're fine.” Grace spoke two languages: Wellesley English and pine-barren redneck.
“What'd y'all think of the ceremony?” Nita said.
“Don't change the subject,” Loretta said darkly, looking at her daughter. Now that the pleasantries were over, Loretta was ready to get back to lambasting Nita for her decision to invite Virginia. “What in the world made you ask her?”
“Mama, she is the children's grandmother.” Ever since she found out about Virginia marrying Redmon, Nita had felt kind of sorry for her. She had felt kind of guilty about keeping the children from Virginia over the past eighteen months.
“Now, Mama James, don't get excited over something silly,” Jimmy Lee said. He couldn't bear to hear Nita criticized in any way, shape, or form. “Nita's just doing what she thinks is right.”
“Who said you could call me Mama James? My name's Loretta, son.”
“Oh my God, is Virginia here?” Lavonne said, scanning the crowd.
“Did the Bride of Satan show up after all?” Eadie said.
Loretta looked suspiciously from one to the other. “Did y'all know about this?”
“It's my wedding,” Nita said stubbornly, and Jimmy Lee put his arm around her. “I can invite who I want.”
Behind them, Harry Junior threw his hand in the air and yelled “Whoop!”
“What in the hell was that?” Loretta said darkly, looking around.
“It's nothing,” Nita said quickly. She smiled at Harry Junior, who'd just sat down at a picnic table with a big plate of food. His mother sat in her wheelchair behind him surrounded by a group of spellbound women. She had her bad foot propped up on the table bench and was holding forth on the dangers of ingrown toenails, gangrene, and amputation.
Loretta shook her head ominously and stared at her daughter. “Juanita Sue, you're tied to the train tracks and you don't know there's a train coming.”
Jimmy Lee snorted and bit his lower lip. He'd always thought Loretta could make it on the comedy circuit.
Lavonne said, “Hey, Loretta, can I get you a plate?”
Grace said, “The barbecue brisket is really good.”
Eadie said, “If you kick her ass, Loretta, I want to be there to see it.”
Nita stared nervously at Virginia's big Mercedes. So far no one had climbed out. Maybe Virginia had forgotten today was the wedding. Maybe she had just stopped by to drop off a gift and would leave now that she realized.
“Whoop!” Harry Junior said.
“That boy's getting on my last nerve,” Loretta said, eyeing him grimly.
“Mama, he can't help it.” Nita pinched Jimmy Lee, who was still giggling. “Why don't you try and relax?” she said to her mother. “Why don't you try and have a little fun?”
Loretta stared balefully at Virginia's car. A slight breeze ruffled her black hair, making it stand up above her forehead like concertina wire. “You'll think fun,” she growled, “when you're standing there helpless as a mute in handcuffs.”
Jimmy Lee snorted again and put his head down. Nita shoved him in the ribs with her elbow. “Why don't you go get Daddy and y'all have another dance?” she said, trying to draw her mother's attention away from the parking lot. “Or get a plate and maybe sit down for some dinner.”
“Who catered this throw-down anyway?” Grace said.
“Someone with a great deal of class and good taste,” Lavonne said.
“Whoop!” Harry Junior said.
Loretta spun around suddenly. “Hon, would you like a cough drop?” she said, leaning across the picnic table with her hands resting heavily on the checkered surface. “I've got some cherry red ones that should fix you right up.”
Harry Junior's eyes got wide. “Sure,” he said.
The Ramones sang “We're a Happy Family.” Jimmy Lee coughed and looked at the sky. He chewed his lip and stared at his feet. Nita looked at him and shook her head. She smiled, feeling the tension rise up out of her neck and shoulders. The sun peeked from behind the clouds and shone brightly on the slow-moving waters of the Black Warrior River. Nita felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. Her children were happy. Her family was safe. Her husband was handsome and tenderhearted, and they were in love.
No one could ruin that.
VIRGINIA CLIMBED SLOWLY OUT OF THE CAR, PUTTING ON HER best game face. The wedding was every bit as tacky as she had expected, complete with rock-and-roll band, a crowd of people she barely recognized, and what looked like picnic tables scattered around the yard. It was being catered, of course, by Lavonne Zibolsky and her partner, that Shapiro woman.
She adjusted her skirt and took a deep breath, wondering if she really wanted to put herself through this ordeal. But then she remembered the way her son had let himself be humiliated in front of the entire town by a little scrap of a girl who Virginia hadn't even wanted him to marry in the first place. When she remembered this, she was steadfast in her resolve for vengeance.
She checked her hair in the window glass. She was probably overdressed for this sorry function. Already, her Jimmy Choo heels were caked in a half-inch of mud. At least she hoped it was mud, and not something worse. She smoothed her hair and put her shoulders back. She would prevail, even here, stuck at a wedding she didn't want to attend, in the middle of a mosquito-infested swamp with a bunch of college professors, blue- collar workers, and the three women Virginia felt certain had brought her to this sorry state of affairs.
“Let's go,” she said to Redmon, over her shoulder.
He patted her on the backside and took her elbow. She stiffened but let him keep the arm. “Hot damn,” he said, watching the wedding revelers. “Nothing I like better than a good throw-down.”
Virginia tried walking on her toes so her heels wouldn't get sucked into the sandy soil. Redmon clung to her arm, trying to steady her. “We're not staying long,” she warned him. Just long enough for her to gather the information she needed. Just long enough to figure out where to strike.
“Aw, come on, Queenie,” he pleaded. “Let's have a good time. You know I was born under a honky-tonk moon.”
Virginia muttered, “Under a trailer, more likely.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, honey, let's dance,” Redmon said. “Let's shake it up a little bit.”
“I'm not dancing to this so-called music,” Virginia said in disgust. They stood at the edge of the yard, watching the dancers cavort to “I Wanna Be Sedated.”
“Aw, come on, honey, loosen up. You're tight as a wood tick on a dog's tail.”
Virginia was spared the necessity of a reply by the sudden appearance of Loretta James, standing in front of them like an enraged little terrier.
Virginia put on her best smile. Her eyes swept over the little woman. “My, Loretta, what a lovely dress,” she said.
Loretta wasn't having any of it. “How come you're here, Virginia?” she said.
“I just came by to offer my congratulations to the happy couple. I just came by to see if there was
anything I could do to help out.”
Loretta's eyes were gray and sharp as pencil points. “Well, aren't you sweet?” she said. “You're just about as sweet and handy as a Braille Bible to a blind preacher.”
Virginia smiled but looked puzzled. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” she said.
Redmon, who obviously understood what it meant, snorted. “Hey, Loretta,” he said. “Do you want to dance?”
VIRGINIA PAID HER RESPECTS TO THE NEWLYWEDS, SMILING AND clenching her teeth so hard her jaw ached for days. There was not much information she could pry out of Nita, at least not while her young bridegroom stood glued to her side like an overprotective bodyguard. He was polite to Virginia but she could sense his dislike, and didn't really blame him for it. He was intelligent enough to recognize an enemy when he saw one, which was more than Nita seemed capable of doing.
Virginia wandered over to the buffet table. Out in the yard, Redmon two-stepped with Loretta James to his request, “Kansas City.” She saw Eadie Boone leaning against a pecan tree, sipping her drink while she watched the dancers. Virginia was not surprised to see her here. She had expected Eadie to come in but she had hoped she'd bring Trevor with her. Virginia got up on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd. No Trevor. She spotted Grace Pearson over by the buffet table. Now who in the world invited her? she wondered. The woman was wearing a jeans jacket and looked like she might be headed for a hoedown, not a wedding. Virginia did not understand why women who attended schools like Wellesley could be so clueless when it came to fashion. She felt a twinge of sympathy for Ms. Pearson's mother, who had probably tried to raise her to be a good Southern girl with an appreciation of good grooming and polite society, and then made the mistake of sending her up North to be educated. When she saw women like Grace Pearson, Virginia was glad she had not raised a daughter of her own.
She picked up a glass of white wine and strolled over to visit with Eadie. She had gotten halfway across the lawn when Grace Pearson swung around suddenly and headed toward her. Virginia, dismayed and realizing she could not, at this stage, turn and run for cover, rearranged her face into a blank, pleasant expression.