The Scent of Lilacs

by Ann H. Gabhart

  Wes went up the street to get Aunt Love and Tabitha some lemonade from the Girl Scouts’ stand by the post office. The high school pep club and the Hollyhill Church of God had bake sales going in front of the banks. The icing on the cupcakes was melting in the heat, but nobody seemed to care as they licked their fingers and listened for the high school band to get the parade started.

  Jocie snapped a couple of shots of kids sitting on the edge of the sidewalk peering down toward the high school. Then she took a picture of little Jamie Ray Jones up on his daddy’s shoulders. She felt lucky when she caught sight of Myron Haskins sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse, both hands resting on his cane propped out in front of him like a podium. She took three pictures from different angles and even took the chance of asking Mr. Haskins what he thought about the parade. The band was still just tooting and drumming haphazardly, which surely meant the parade hadn’t formed ranks.

  He frowned at her. “It’s a fine thing if it’ll get you young folks to see that freedom’s worth fighting for, to know that it has been fought for, that men died so we can march down this street.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jocie said and began edging away.

  “A man should be proud to serve his country, not try to get out of being drafted the way boys do nowadays.” He reached out and thumped Jocie on the arm. “We ran to the enlistment office in my day.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jocie repeated. “I’m sure the mayor will be recognizing your service when he gives his speech later.” Jocie glanced over at the empty wagon set up across from the courthouse where the dignitaries would gather after they rode in the parade. “And everybody in Hollyhill knows what you did for your country.”

  Mr. Haskins raised his cane and stabbed it toward her. Jocie backed out of range. “Nobody can know what we did except the ones who were there. War isn’t something you can know about unless you’re a soldier.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jocie said one last time and slipped out of sight behind the Civil War monument beside Mr. Haskins. She crossed the street and headed back toward the high school to see if the parade had started. The crowd was growing, and a couple of kids from school yelled at her to take their pictures. She pretended to push the shutter while they struck a pose. She didn’t like posed pictures. She liked catching people unaware. Like Jimmy Sanders sitting cross-legged on top of the metal awning in front of his father’s hardware store. He must have climbed out the upstairs window and slid into position.

  The even rat-a-tat of drums signaled that the parade had at long last left the high school and was headed downtown. The people edged away from the shade of the buildings, closer to the street, pushing their kids in front of them. Jocie eased through the crowd to take up position in front of the concrete trash can by the Five and Dime store.

  A couple of Eagle Scouts carried the American and Kentucky flags in front of the mayor in the first car. He’d appointed himself grand marshal of the parade, since the whole thing had been his idea and nobody had come up with anybody famous. They’d thought about asking Stu Williams, who had been a starter on the University of Kentucky basketball team twenty years ago, but he’d moved to South Carolina some years back and hadn’t been back to Hollyhill more than twice since he’d got out of college. As Jocie watched the mayor ride by, she thought they should have asked old Mr. Haskins.

  The next few cars carried the city council members and the county judge. Jocie didn’t bother even to practice focus. She wasn’t going to waste her film on yawner pictures. The band marched into view, and Jocie caught a shot of William Pickens twirling his drumsticks and Judy Lester carrying her trumpet. Judy, a junior next year, rode Jocie’s bus and had promised to show her the ropes when she went to high school next fall.

  The mayor’s granddaughter and Hollyhill High prom queen, Judith Palmor, smiled and waved from her perch on the top of the backseat of a red and white Corvette convertible. She wore a blue sundress and held a small American flag. Every few feet she threw some peppermint candy out on the street where kids pounced on it. Jocie snapped a picture of Judith waving, then grabbed a piece of peppermint to see if the mayor’s name was on the candy wrapper, but it was just plain cellophane.

  Zella’s float was first. The tissue paper flag wasn’t half bad. At least you could tell it was supposed to be a flag. The kids on the float stood with their hands over their hearts repeating the pledge over and over. Next, 4-H Club members dressed in green and white held up paper four-leaf clovers with white H’s. Jocie ran alongside the float to get a shot of Heather Byrd’s border collie sitting at attention on the front of the wagon. Jocie wished her father would let Zeb come to work with them. Boys in the Future Farmers of America Club dangled their feet off the edge of their wagon and waved as they passed. They hadn’t bothered decorating the wagon, but they were wearing their blue FFA jackets in spite of the heat. Scout troops and Little League baseball teams decked out in their uniforms walked behind the floats. Jocie took pictures as fast as she could focus and wind.

  Five or six kids followed on bikes decorated with red crepe paper, flags, and signs. Bennie Drury spotted Jocie with her camera and popped a wheelie right in front of her, but she shrugged and pretended she’d used up her film. She didn’t want Bennie to get the idea she liked him or something.

  Ponies and horses with tiny American flags stuck in their bridles and saddle horns spread out across the street after the bikes. Jocie spotted five-year-old Marvin Sims in an oversized cowboy hat sitting on top of a big Appaloosa. Jocie crouched down low to focus in so the horse would look even bigger and Marvin even littler.

  Bringing up the rear of the parade was the town’s new fire truck. Fire chief Baxter Hill hit the siren every few minutes and kept his lights flashing. A couple of volunteer firemen hung on to the back and pitched out more candy. Jocie used up the rest of her film on kids scrambling for the candy. She could hear the band playing “The Star Spangled Banner” down in front of the courthouse, but she headed for the news office to turn in her film to Wes instead of going down the street. Her dad had said he’d cover the politicians.

  She’d forgotten about Aunt Love and Tabitha watching the parade from the office until she pushed through the door and set the bell on top to jangling. “Where’s the fire?” Tabitha asked.

  “No fire. Just the paper to run.” Jocie paused in her headlong rush back to the pressroom to look at Tabitha, who was sitting alone in a line of three chairs pulled up to the window. “Where’s Aunt Love?”

  “She and that Leigh woman went down the street to hear the speeches. I told them I’d rather stay here and nap.”

  “Leigh was here?”

  “Yep. Dad saw her on the street and told her to come up and watch from here.”

  “Oh,” Jocie said.

  “Yeah,” Tabitha said. “I think Dad might finally be over DeeDee.”

  “Well, Leigh’s nice.”

  “Nice.” Tabitha made a face. “That’s the worst thing you can say about anybody. Better to be pretty. Or fun. Best of all, sexy. That’s what makes men notice.”

  “I think Dad might rather have nice.”

  “No, all guys like sexy. Even old guys in the Bible. Remember King David and Bathsheba? That’s a pretty hot story.”

  “I thought you’d forgotten everything you knew about the Bible,” Jocie said.

  “Aunt Love’s been reading some Bible stories to me to refresh my memory.”

  “Well, if it’s true that all guys want sexy, then I guess we won’t have to worry about Leigh being our stepmother.”

  Tabitha smiled. “I don’t know about that. Just because we don’t think Leigh’s sexy doesn’t mean Dad might not. Besides, it might be good if he was married.” Tabitha’s smile disappeared. “It might be good if I was married.”

  “You probably could be if you wanted to be. You’re pretty, and you look sexy.”

  “Oh yeah. No doubt. That’s my problem. I’m too sexy for my own good.” Tabitha looked straight at Jocie. “Guess now’s
as good a time to tell you as any, since you’re way too innocent to ever notice on your own. I’m going to have a baby.”

  You’re going to have a baby?” Jocie echoed. “So that explains it.”

  “Explains what?” Tabitha asked.

  “How you’re getting fat eating Aunt Love’s cooking.”

  Tabitha put her hands on her stomach and burst out laughing.

  Jocie looked at her as if she were crazy. “It wasn’t that funny.”

  Finally Tabitha wiped her eyes and said, “You guys are a hoot. Here I worry overtime about how everybody is going to be ashamed of me, and Daddy just says wow, he’s going to be a grandfather and you just look relieved you weren’t wrong about Aunt Love’s cooking. Maybe I won’t have to wear a scarlet A after all.”

  “Well, I guess it would be better if you were married, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh yeah. Even DeeDee would agree to that one. At least I think she would.”

  “And Aunt Love.” Jocie’s eyes got big. “Does she know?”

  “Since day one. Figured it out the first time I upchucked my toast.”

  “And she didn’t flip out and start quoting Bible verses about thou shalt not or something?”

  “No, I don’t get why you complain about Aunt Love. She’s been nothing but sweet to me.”

  “And I guess Jezebel—I mean Sugar—purrs when you rub her too.”

  “Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Nothing. Just curious.”

  Tabitha stood up and came over to Jocie. “Maybe you’re just too full of energy for Aunt Love. She doesn’t know what to do with you. Me, I’m older and sort of mellowed out right now, and I think she’s actually excited about me having a baby. Like it could be the grandchild she never had. She must have been lonely a lot. She told me her fiancé got killed in France in the First World War. Said she didn’t want to marry after that. Besides, she had to take care of her father.”

  “I thought it was her brother who died in the war.”

  “The brother got sick and died on a ship on the way overseas.”

  “Oh. How come she’s telling you all this stuff and she’s never told me the first thing about it?”

  “You’ve probably never sat still long enough for her to tell you anything.”

  “She finds plenty of time to quote me Scripture,” Jocie said.

  “That’s different. She’s just trying to help you with those.”

  “She beats me over the head with those.” Jocie pulled up her camera. “We’ve got a while before the baby comes, right? I mean, I’ve got to get this film to Wes so we can run the paper.”

  “A few months,” Tabitha said with another smile. “Lots of Banner issues before then. And time to talk.”

  Jocie headed for the pressroom, then turned around. “Is it a secret? I mean, you don’t want me to tell anybody?”

  “It’s okay if you let it slip to Wes, if that’s what you mean. He probably already knows anyway. Doesn’t much get past him. You weren’t doing a baby prayer, were you?”

  “Nope. Just a sister prayer, but I guess I’d better start with a baby prayer now. What do you want me to pray?”

  Tabitha put her hands on her belly. “That she’ll be healthy and happy and look like me.”

  “Why? Was her father ugly or something?”

  “No, he looked fine, but he didn’t want her. And I do, so it only seems fair that she look like me, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so. I’m glad you want your baby, Tabitha.”

  “Why?”

  “Because all babies should be wanted by their mothers.”

  “You’re thinking about DeeDee, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.” Jocie shrugged. “It just seems funny that she’d take you and not even say good-bye to me.”

  “DeeDee’s not much on good-byes. And she wasn’t planning to take me. I just woke up and caught her packing. She told me to go back to bed, but I went out and got in the car.”

  “But she let you go. She would have pushed me out of the car.”

  “You wouldn’t have gotten in the car to begin with, Jocie. You wouldn’t have left Dad.” Tabitha reached out and hugged Jocie. “Besides, you were the lucky one.”

  “I know.” Jocie pulled away from Tabitha and said, “I really have to get this film started developing or we’ll never get the paper going.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll just sit here and watch to see if Dad and that Leigh woman come back holding hands.”

  “They were that friendly?”

  Tabitha grinned. “Not then, but maybe by now.”

  Jocie stopped at the pressroom door. “You know, you could have just told us you were married. That your husband died in some kind of freak accident or something. We’d have never known the difference.”

  “That’s what DeeDee told me to do. Said to think up some kind of story on the way across the country. She’d have done it in a minute. Said sometimes lies saved everybody a lot of trouble. But I guess I have too much of Dad in me. I mean, I haven’t been to church since I left here, but that’s one of the big things, isn’t it? Don’t lie.”

  “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” Jocie made a face. “Oh no, I’m sounding like Aunt Love.”

  “So anyway, while I don’t know exactly why the Lord should pay any attention to anything I want, I do want him to bless my baby, and how could I ask that if I was lying to everybody? Am I making any sense?”

  “God will pay attention, Tabitha. Get Aunt Love to quote you her verses about praying. She’s got some good ones. ‘Ask and it shall be given you’ and things like that. I’ve been paying more attention since Zeb and you showed up.”

  Tabitha laughed again. “I don’t know whether I should be mad or glad about being paired with a dog.”

  “A dog from Jupiter.”

  Tabitha rolled her eyes. “And I thought it was crazy in California with everybody saying love conquers all.”

  “God’s love does. Just ask Dad.”

  “You keep giving me things to ask, I’m going to have to take notes.”

  Jocie disappeared through the door into the pressroom, and Tabitha settled back into the chair by the window. She stared out at the street. The traffic was still blocked off Main, and the sound of the speeches echoed up from in front of the courthouse. She listened but couldn’t make out the first word. She could have walked down there, but then people would be looking at her as if she had two heads and telling her how great it was that she was home while they wondered why she was. Nobody came back to Hollyhill from California.

  She’d already been the focus of a lot of stares in through the window, and two girls who said they’d gone to school with her had come in to say hello. That was about all they knew to say, and after an awkward exchange of “It’s great to have you back” and “It’s great to be back,” they were glad to get back to the parade.

  Tabitha hadn’t known them. Even after they’d told her their names, nothing but a foggy almost-memory came to mind. She’d been gone too long, gone to too many different schools with too many different kids. But they had expected her to know them as if she had been frozen in time the way Hollyhill had.

  She’d ridden across the country through a time tunnel and had ended up in Hollyhill not more than a week or two after she left. The storefronts still needed paint. The same cracks she’d jumped over to keep from breaking her mother’s back as a kid still ran across the sidewalks. Even some of the people seemed frozen in time. Zella with her tight, windproof curls and Wes with black ink still imbedded under his fingernails. Mayor Palmor with a few more pounds around his middle but with the same running-for-office handshake.

  Of course, she wasn’t the same. Or Jocie. She could hear Jocie and Wes back in the pressroom, and she thought about going back to see them, but that rank ink odor might be bad for her baby. Tabitha wrapped her hands around her belly and rocked back and forth. She would be a good mother, a loving mother, a mother who wanted t
o be a mother. A mother who kept secrets that didn’t need to be told. She wouldn’t be anything like DeeDee.

  Somebody tapped on the window, and Tabitha almost fell out of her chair. A man had his nose pressed against the glass peering in. When Tabitha jumped, he opened his mouth to show no teeth and laughed without making any sound. Lines traced ridges on the weathered skin of his face through the stubble of gray whiskers, but his brown eyes were surprisingly bright. His green shirt flopped loosely around his shoulders. He stepped back from the window and brought the guitar on his back around to strum the strings a couple of times. Then he pointed at the door, almost as if he were a kid asking her to come out to play.

  He was older and grayer, but just like everything else about Hollyhill, the same. A name floated up out of her memory. Sallie. When she was a little girl, she’d been afraid of him and curious at the same time. She’d edged up close to her father’s leg whenever he stopped to listen to Sallie playing his guitar on the street. When they went on up the street, she’d ask her father questions. “Where’s his teeth, Daddy? Why are there quarters in his hat? Is his name really Sallie? Isn’t that a funny name for a man? What is that stinky smell?”

  When she got older, she always crossed to the other side of the street when she spotted Sallie playing his guitar with his hat beside him for donations. He always sang louder when he saw her, and any quarters she had in her pocket got heavier. But she never crossed the street to drop any money into his hat.

  She felt in her pocket now, but she hadn’t brought any money. Not even a quarter. But he was still grinning at her and pointing at the door, so she got up and opened it. He didn’t wait for her to come outside. He came inside and without the first hello or how are you went right to singing. “Tabitha Jane, Tabitha same. Tabitha Lee, Tabitha free. Tabitha Rose, Tabitha nose.” And then he reached toward her nose with a pinch. She moved her head back quickly. He just laughed again and started in on “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” one of his favorites from years before. His voice wavered a bit, but it just made the ballad sound truer.