Miracle in a Dry Season

by Sarah Loudin Thomas

  Cathy heaved a sigh and flopped down in her pew. “Fine. But seems to me the least you’uns can do is keep him for a while and give me a rest. If you ain’t gonna heal him, then take him on home and see how you like that howling all the time. As for a wedding, I reckon I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  Casewell stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You marrying the town tart has been the word going around for a time now. Seems to me if you was gonna marry her, you’d have done it by now.” She slanted a sly look at Perla. “Only one reason to marry a woman like that, and if’n you don’t hurry, everybody will soon see what’s what.”

  Casewell felt his cheeks flush hot. He tried to control the red creeping up his neck, but the harder he tried the hotter he felt. He took two steps backward until he was once again standing near the pulpit. “Any other prayer requests?” There weren’t any.

  Robert closed the service with a short prayer. When he dismissed everyone, the whole congregation seemed to lunge for the door as one body. Casewell imagined if someone were on the roof looking down at the front stoop, it would look like a string of soap bubbles rushing down a creek. In minutes the church was empty except for Perla, Sadie, and his mother, still holding little Travis. She wore an astonished look.

  “Guess we’re babysitting this afternoon.” Casewell tried to sound light, but he was as uncomfortable as he’d ever been in his life.

  “I’ll be happy to tend to him.” Perla glanced around. “But for heaven’s sake don’t let anyone see me with him. Who knows what they’ll think I’ve done to him this time?”

  “Poor little thing.” Emily stroked Travis’s hair. He gave a shuddering sigh. “I think his ears have bothered him almost every day of his short life. Cathy does need a break. We should be ashamed that we haven’t offered to do this before.” She snuggled the boy against her shoulder. “Come on, little one. We’ll pray over your ears all afternoon.”

  Sadie patted the boy again, and they all headed to Emily’s for Sunday dinner.

  Travis was better than they expected that afternoon. Casewell suspected he was used to life with sore ears and had learned to sleep and eat in spite of them. After dinner the little boy sagged against Perla’s shoulder. She took him to her room and put him on the bed for a nap. Sadie, who had recently begun to resist napping, lay down beside him with one chubby little hand on his arm. Soon both children were sleeping, and Perla slipped out to see if Emily needed help clearing up.

  Emily had already finished in the kitchen and sat on the porch with Casewell, who didn’t seem much inclined to talk. Perla sat next to him on the porch swing. They drifted to and fro in silence.

  “I think we should get married as soon as Reverend Jones from over at the Methodist church is available to marry us,” Casewell said without preamble.

  “Do you?” Perla kept her voice light.

  “Yes. I didn’t realize how people were . . . doubting my intentions.” He took Perla’s hand in his. “And I don’t want to give you a chance to get cold feet.” He squeezed her hand.

  Mom stood and offered to check on the children. Perla waved her back into her chair. “They’re fine. I just left them and I’d like you to be part of any plans we make.”

  She sat again and looked out across the fields. “Perla, I suppose you know I struggle with knowing your . . . situation. And your marrying my son, considering that. I’ve been praying about it, though, and the Lord has reminded me of one or two second chances He’s offered me over the years.” She turned warm eyes on Perla. “All in all, I do believe I’ll be mighty proud to call you daughter.”

  She turned and looked at Casewell. “But, son, I think I ought to point out that you’ve skipped an important step in this whole process.”

  Casewell looked bewildered. He thought all they needed to do was pick a date and stand up in front of a preacher. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said slowly.

  “Seems to me you need to give Perla a promise ring.”

  Casewell cringed. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to a ring. Not that he could afford much, but maybe he could take Perla to the city and find something. While he was racking his brain for a way out of his dilemma, his mother leaned over from her rocker, took his hand, and pressed something into the palm. He looked down to find a sparkling ring.

  “Your father gave it to me on our twenty-fifth anniversary,” his mother explained. “I hardly ever wore it. I worried I’d spoil it somehow. I know it would please him no end to see it on Perla’s hand.”

  Casewell turned to Perla. Tears streaked her cheeks. He knelt down from the swing and took her hand. “Will you marry me just as soon as I can run the preacher to ground?”

  Perla laughed out loud and fell into his arms.

  “So I’ll give the preacher a call, then?” he asked. “Is next Sunday too soon?”

  “Son, don’t be silly,” his mother said. “It can wait a few more days. Perla needs a little bit of time to get ready for her wedding.”

  Perla laughed again. “I’ve been getting ready for a long time. Waiting even one more day seems too long.” She turned toward Casewell, and the look of love in her eyes brought tears to his. He realized he couldn’t wait to make this woman his bride.

  As the adults were talking over plans, Sadie stepped out onto the porch. She held a jar of grape juice with both hands. The lid was off and some of the juice had spilled down the front of her dress.

  “Oh, Sadie, were you thirsty? Sweetie, you should have let me get that.” Perla rushed to the child and took the jar from her. As she lifted it, she wrinkled her nose and raised the jar for a closer smell.

  “This has fermented. Sadie, did you drink this?”

  “No, Mama, it’s medicine.”

  Perla looked confused. “Medicine? For what?”

  “For Travis. He needed medicine for his ears, so I got some.”

  Perla’s eyebrows shot up, and she rushed into the bedroom, Casewell and Emily close on her heels. Travis still lay on the bed, awake but peaceful in spite of the juice-stained sheets bunched up around him. It looked like something horrific had taken place, but Travis actually smiled and laughed a bit. He held his arms out to be picked up, and Perla lifted him. As she did, she noticed something in his right ear. She started to tug it out.

  “No, Mama, that keeps the medicine in,” Sadie said.

  Casewell lifted Sadie into his arms. “Did you put grape juice in Travis’s ears?”

  “At church we drink the juice because it’s from Jesus,” said Sadie. “It wouldn’t stay in his ears, so I stopped them up.”

  Emily checked both ears as Travis rested happily in Perla’s arms. “She’s plugged them up with some cotton batting from my quilt supplies. I guess there’s some juice up in there, too.”

  “Will it hurt him? Shouldn’t we pull it out?” Perla sounded alarmed.

  “I can’t see how it would hurt him,” Mom said. “Might be like having water in your ears, but that could be a nice change for the poor little thing.”

  “He seems happy,” Casewell said. “Maybe we should leave it alone. Maybe it is medicine.”

  “We’d better get him cleaned up, if nothing else,” Perla said. “He smells like he’s been on a two-week drunk.”

  An hour later Travis, washed and wrapped in one of Casewell’s old shirts while his own things dried on the clothesline, remained happy. Perla finally removed the batting from his ears, and although he shook his head a little, he didn’t cry.

  “Could he really be cured?” Perla wondered.

  “I hope so.” Emily settled him on the floor, where he could play with some blocks Casewell had fashioned.

  “Well, if he is, I’m going home before his mother comes back. I don’t want anyone to think I did it. Goodness knows what they’d expect of me after that.”

  “Guess performing miracles runs in the family,” Casewell said with a wink. “Ma, I’ll run Perla and Sadie back over to the Th
orntons’. Should I fetch Cathy on my way back?”

  “Yes, please. I’m fair worn-out with all of this business. His clothes are almost dry, so I should have him ready to go home by the time you get back.”

  By evening Travis was returned to his mother’s arms. Emily told Cathy that if she continued to have trouble with Travis’s ears, she should put a little rubbing alcohol on some cotton batting and stuff it into the sore ear. Cathy looked skeptical, but she was pleased that her son seemed happier than he had in a long time. She took the bit of cotton Emily gave her and offered grudging thanks. Casewell took the pair home and resisted the temptation to tell Cathy he and Perla had set a date. That news would get around soon enough.

  The news did spread. Delilah invited everyone who stopped by the store. Casewell made sure the Talbot sisters and Frank knew about the wedding, and Emily shared with her friends. But the news was not met with enthusiasm. Casewell and Emily were at the store chatting with Delilah when Liza and Angie stopped by for a sack of flour.

  “Emily, what can we do to help with the wedding?” Angie asked.

  “I could use some help with the food. Perla tried to tell me she’d make everything, but of course I put my foot down and told her she couldn’t cook for her own wedding.”

  “Oh, yes.” Liza clapped her hands. “I’ll make those little pink and green mints. How many do you think you’ll need?”

  Emily glanced at her son, then Delilah, who jumped in. “Well, we were just talking about that. Seems like maybe we won’t have much of a crowd.”

  “Why? Isn’t the whole town invited?” Angie asked.

  “Of course, of course.” Delilah hesitated. “But I don’t think they’ll come. Seems maybe there’s still some hard feelings about Perla already having a child. And then all that business with the food this summer . . . People are funny.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I had hard feelings,” Emily whispered. She twisted her mouth a little to one side and took Casewell’s hand. “I’ve liked Perla from the day I met her, but to have her marry my son . . . Well, I’ve had a good long talk with the Lord, and He’s helped me see past my own shortcomings. What I’m saying, though, is I can understand how some folks might feel funny about coming to the wedding.”

  “People have been fools since the beginning of time,” said Angie. “There’s not one of us without sin—not one. I just wish Jesus were here to ask those old fools which sinless one of them wants to cast the first stone.”

  Liza nodded her head one time hard. “We’ll just have a nice wedding without them. I guess the four of us—and Casewell, of course—love Perla and Sadie enough for the rest of the world.”

  Emily and Delilah smiled. Fine then, they’d put on a wedding for themselves.

  In spite of Perla’s protests, Delilah quickly took over as chief planner of the wedding feast. She and Robert would provide a ham and biscuits. Liza would make her mints and a batch of divinity. Angie would supply an array of pickled items, from cucumbers to watermelon rind. Emily, with her chickens thriving again, would supply chicken-salad and egg-salad sandwiches. They would work together to bake a wedding cake.

  “With a little bride and groom perched on top,” Liza said.

  “We don’t have one.” Delilah sighed. “And it’s much too late to order one. We’ll have to do without.”

  Liza grinned and reached into the pocket of her skirt. She pulled up some crackling tissue paper and handed it to Perla. “I thought I’d be getting married once upon a time,” she said.

  Unfurling the paper, Perla gasped when she saw the figurine. The groom wore a suit, black and shiny, and the bride had a bit of netting stuck to her head. They weren’t entirely in fashion, but they would top the cake nicely.

  As it turned out, Reverend Jones was available a week from Saturday. Casewell announced his wedding date in church that Sunday, but he didn’t notice the downcast eyes or the shuffling feet. All he could see was Perla and Sadie, his girls.

  Casewell had his only suit cleaned and pressed. Perla decided that she would make do with her pale-yellow dress for the wedding. But Emily had other plans. She invited Perla over for lunch—just the two of them.

  Perla arrived with a lemon pound cake in hand. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave all the cooking up to someone else.

  “You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,” Emily said. “I’ll have to get Casewell over here to help me eat this.”

  “It was no trouble.” Perla felt shy now that Emily was about to become her mother-in-law.

  Emily put the cake on the counter and turned back to Perla, running her hands down over her company apron, which was perfectly pressed and spotless. “Perla, I wanted to say something to you.”

  Perla thought she’d better go ahead and sit down, so she slid into a kitchen chair. The table was set for two, with a platter of sandwiches and a pot of soup that smelled wonderful—like rosemary.

  Emily slid into her seat, as well. “I’ve wronged you,” she said and folded her hands against the edge of the table. “I was against you marrying Casewell, and I’m sorry. I had a hard time accepting that you had a child out of wedlock.”

  Perla could see the older woman’s knuckles whiten as she squeezed her hands together.

  “The Lord reminded me that I have sins of my own. He also reminded me that it’s not my job to judge other people.” She looked up and met Perla’s eyes. “There’s more than enough judging that goes on around here. I’m sorry I took it upon myself to judge you too sinful for my son. There’s not one of us too sinful for God’s own Son. How could I think mine’s better?” She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. “What I want to tell you is that I’m proud you’re marrying Casewell, and I’m pleased more than I can say that I’m about to become a grandmother.”

  Perla smiled and placed a hand over Emily’s, massaging just a little to ease the tension there. She found that she felt much more relaxed than when she’d first come in. “Sadie is blessed to gain such a father and a grandmother all in one day. Thank you for asking me over, and thank you for, well, for telling me how you feel.”

  “There.” Emily released her hands and sat back. “Now we can eat and start getting to know each other as mother and daughter.”

  After they finished eating, Emily led Sadie into the bedroom she had shared with John. “I have something to show you,” she said.

  Laid out on the rose-carved bed was a dress. Perla gasped when she saw it.

  “Is this your wedding dress?”

  “It is. John said I looked like an angel coming down the aisle toward him. He wasn’t given to compliments, so I always held that one dear.”

  The dress was simple but lovely. Emily explained that in wartime it had been hard to find much finery, but she had been gifted with bits and pieces from the women in her family, and together they had made this lovely gown. It was ankle length, with lace peeping out from the hem, and had a high frilled neck. A lace veil clung to a small cap. Emily caressed the veil. “My grandmother’s lace,” she said. “Maybe one day Sadie will wear it.”

  “Are you saying you want me to wear this?” Perla asked.

  “Only if you’d like to. You probably already have something to wear, but I wanted to offer.”

  Perla swallowed hard and slid a hand over the softness of the dress. Tears blurred her vision. “I’d be honored to wear this.”

  “Then that’s settled,” Emily said. “Try it on and we’ll see if it needs taking in.”

  The dress did need a few adjustments, but nothing Emily’s quick needle couldn’t handle. In short order Perla had a dress, a feast, an adorable little flower girl, and best of all, a groom.

  When Perla got home, she told Delilah all about the dress, but her aunt seemed distracted. Finally Perla asked if something was wrong.

  “We had a visitor while you were out.” Delilah cut her eyes toward the ceiling.

  Perla felt a cold knot form in the pit of her stomach. “Yes? Who was it?”


  “It was Cathy with Travis. He was caterwauling again.”

  Perla felt the knot loosen. Why would Delilah hesitate to tell her about Cathy?

  “She insisted that you’d cured him once before and wanted you to do it again. I told her you’d done no such thing, and you weren’t home, anyway.” Delilah sighed and rolled her eyes. “I asked her if she’d used rubbing alcohol in the child’s ears like we told her to, and she said she didn’t want old wives’ tales. She wanted the real thing.

  “I guess Sadie heard that poor young’un carrying on, and before I knew what she was doing, she’d fetched out that jar of juice. Cathy set Travis down on the hearth rug there, and Sadie got at him quicker than anything. She had a piece of old rag soaked in juice stuffed in that boy’s ear just like that.” Delilah snapped her fingers. “And wouldn’t you know, Travis stopped crying.”

  Perla smiled a little at that. “Well, good. He must have remembered it felt better last time Sadie did that. Of course, plain grape juice probably wouldn’t work so well as alcohol, but maybe it was soothing all the same.”

  Delilah looked at the ceiling again. “It might be she used the fermented jar again.”

  “Didn’t you dump that out?”

  “Now, Perla, lots of folks let a jar or two of juice turn. Sadie was right. It’s good medicine.”

  Perla stared at her aunt, and then a smile began to spread across her face. “Well, now. I guess maybe it is.” She laughed. “What in the world did Cathy do?”

  “She took the jar with her when she left.”

  Perla began to laugh in earnest. “Oh my. I hope Travis gets some for his ears.”

  “Even if he doesn’t, I think it might put Cathy in a better frame of mind to tolerate all that crying.” Now Delilah was laughing, too.