“I didn’t know you made mistakes, Pearl,” Brie teased.
“One or two that was important. Maybe a few others that aren’t too important. The Lord didn’t strike me dead so I guess He’s working on making my mistakes right. Leastways, I hope He is. We’re done with our serious talking now, Miz Brie. I’m going to make you some griddle cakes and you’re going to pick some flowers for the kitchen table. Don’t be picking them so short I can’t put them in the milk bottle.”
“Do you want me to pick some for you to put on Lazarus’s grave?”
“I done that this morning, early.”
“Are you ever sorry you didn’t marry Lazarus, Pearl?”
“You’re minding my business now, Miz Brie.”
“I’m sorry, Pearl. You’re right, it’s none of my business.”
“That’s what I said,” Pearl snapped. “You run along now and pick those flowers.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brie said, moving off to the left where the garden was in full bloom.
Brie looked around at the wild array of flowers, all planted by Pearl. She knew a handful wouldn’t be missed if she picked them, yet still she hated to break off the stems. Maybe she’d pick just one flower and make the bouquet full of green leaves and grasses. She smiled, remembering the old glass milk bottle with the narrow neck; as children they’d all picked huge bouquets and then watched while Pearl tried to fit them into the bottle. In the end she’d groused and grumbled and stuck them in an old lard can she stored under the sink right next to the jar where Bode kept his money.
Brie whirled around. “Thank You, God—for Pearl, for Bode, for Callie and Sela. Thank You for this place, thank You for everything. I swear to You, I’ll always try to be as good as Pearl and Bode because I know they’re two of Your favorite people. I’m going to go back to church again, too. I don’t know when that will be, exactly, but. You know I never break a promise.” She ended her little talk with the Lord the way Pearl had taught her. “This is Brie Canfield at Parker Manor.” She skipped her way back to the house, a single white daisy and a clump of greenery in her hand.
Home.
Brie watched Pearl as she worked at the kitchen sink. “I think I’ll go up to the gate and wait for Sela, unless you have something you want me to do? I always loved it when you came up the tunnel, as we called it, to greet us. I’ll take your place and greet Sela. I miss her. I bet you do, too.”
Ever the diplomat, Pearl said, “I surely do, just the way I missed you, Miz Brie, and my own baby chile. Miz Callie would come down once a month from Columbia, but she called me most every day. It’s right, you young people have to live your lives. This house belongs to another time. You run along now, and I’ll have some breakfast waiting for Miz Sela when you bring her down.”
As she made her way down the dappled tunnel, the moss on the ground was springy under Brie’s sneaker-clad feet. She stopped for a moment and bounced on it. Then she laughed and started to run, zigzagging to the left then to the right the way she’d done thousands of times when she was a child. When she came to her car and the split-rail fence, she was breathless, and there was a smile on her face as she dropped to the ground, her back against a gnarled oak.
Brie lost all sense of time as she roll-called her memories. Arms locked around her knees, she only looked up when she heard a car slow down and come to a halt next to her own rental car.
“Brie! What are you doing sitting up here?” Sela called as she fought with the door to get to her friend. “God, it’s good to see you. Let me look at you! Uh-oh—what have we here? You’re way too thin, and are those bags I see beneath your eyes? Yes, they are. Well, I have just the thing for those in my cosmetic case. And why are you sitting up here all by yourself? Is something wrong? Where’s the mistress of the manor?”
Brie was on her feet in a second and in Sela’s arms.
“One question at a time.” She giggled. “I came up here to wait for you. I got here earlier. Yes, I’m too thin, and thanks for the offer of the cosmetics. The mistress of the manor is due this evening. She’s driving down from Columbia and should get here around nine or ten, or so Pearl said. Bode was here earlier. Pearl’s in the kitchen where she always is. In fact, she sent me out to pick some flowers, and she’s making breakfast for us. God, it’s good to see you, Sela. You look great, but then you always do. And beautiful.”
“Beautiful my ass.” Sela grinned. “I was the plain one, remember? I was also the wild one, the mouthy one, the one who was always in some kind of trouble. I was the first one to have sex, too. But I shared all my knowledge! And no, I don’t regret anything. I’ve learned not to look back. Yesterday is gone, Brie.”
“Yeah, I know. Sad, huh?”
Sela lit a cigarette and offered one to Brie. They leaned against the split-rail fence and smoked, each trying to outdo the other with perfect smoke rings. “I wanted to come back more often, I really did,” Sela confessed. “You have no idea how much I miss Pearl. All those memories . . . sometimes I can’t handle it. When I did come it was so bittersweet it took me weeks to get back into the swing of my life. When you grow up and move on with your life you’re supposed to be able to leave your childhood and the memories behind, but I’ve never been able to do that. It hurts too much. It even hurts to stay in touch, to call and write. Everything stirs up. Guess I’m all messed up—how about you, Brie?”
“I pretty much feel the same way. Just out of curiosity, how many pounds of makeup are you wearing?”
Sela didn’t take offense at the question. Sela rarely took offense at any remark when it came from one of her friends. “A pound and a half. Takes me a long time till I’m ready to go out into the world.” She sighed dreamily. “You know, Brie, I think this is one of the prettiest places on earth. I haven’t been around the world, and I don’t care if I never do—I just know there is no place like this. Damn, now my eyes are all watery and my makeup is going to smear . . .”
Brie saw her friend turn away as though in slow motion, and knew she was doing the same thing she’d done herself, when she’d gotten here earlier. Sela was remembering yesterday . . .
“What if they don’t like me, Mom? What if they don’t want to play with me? Will you come and get me?”
“I’ll come and get you at six o’clock.”
“I’ m hungry, Mom. You didn’t give me lunch.”
“That’s because you were invited for lunch. Walk down that road to the house.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Get out of the car, Sela. I told Mr. Parker you’d come out here to play with his daughter. That other girl is here, too. You behave yourself, or I’ll lock you in the closet. You mind me now! You need to be more like your mama, Sela. You must learn how to have fun and how to laugh. Someday you might be pretty like me, but I think you’re going to look like that no-account daddy of yours.”
“Am I ugly, Mom?”
“You aren’t ugly, honey; you just aren’t pretty. When you grow up and put on lipstick and rouge, you will be. Do you want to look like me when you grow up?”
Sela stuck her thumb in her mouth and she shook her head. Tears dripped down her cheeks.
“Ungrateful little snot. Go on now and mind your manners. Mr. Parker leaves me good tips, so don’t make things bad for me. You hear me, Sela? Stand up straight, girl, stop slouching. And pull up your goddamned socks.”
Sela took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to say, “They won’t stay up because they’re dirty. Three days dirty just like my underwear.” Whatever her mother responded was lost in the sound of the car’s engine. Sela’s thumb went back into her mouth as she trudged down the mossy road to the house. Through her tears she could see a giant of a woman advancing on her. She froze, ready to flee, when she saw two girls and a boy run ahead of the giant. Suddenly she was in the giant’s arms, and she was being kissed. She wasn’t afraid anymore when the woman holding her carried her into the kitchen that smelled like Christmas day. Later, she was being led down the hall to
the bathroom, the other little girl alongside her.
“This is how we do things here,” the giant said comfortably. “First you take a bath and have your hair washed. That’s so you won’t smell like cigarette smoke and . . . other things. Then Pearl is going to dress you up in clean clothes and wash your other clothes. Then you’re going to have lunch and play all afternoon. You can stay to supper if your mamas say it’s all right. Now, let’s scrub-a-dub-dub.”
Sela hung her head as she slipped down into the soapy water that was so warm and sweet-smelling she never wanted to get out. The other little girl, Brie was her name, was hanging her head, too. She knew she was ashamed as she was.
“Lordy, Lordy, you children smell prettier than the gardenias by the verandah. Hmmmm!” Pearl sang out as she nuzzled each little girl behind the ears. “My own special flowers. Now, we’ll just fluff up those curls and then you can sit down and eat Pearl’s special chicken pie. And if you’re real good, there will be a chocolate ice-cream cone for dessert.”
Her heart in her eyes, Sela held out her plate the moment she finished. Even at the age of four and a half she knew she wasn’t holding it out for the ice-cream cone; she was holding it out so Pearl would smile, kiss her, and say something nice. One of Pearl’s warm smiles was better than a cold ice-cream cone. Lots better. She did her best to remember the last time her mother had hugged her and kissed her. When she couldn’t remember, she looked up at the motherly woman, and asked, “Is it all right to love you?”
“Chile, this old woman would be pleased to have you love her. I love all of you,” she said, pointing one fat finger at each of the children. “In this house we’re a family. Don’t you be forgetting that.”
Sela tossed her cigarette in the general direction of the road, and turned to Brie. “My mom was drunk, that first day when she brought me out here to the Parker place. Jesus, I was scared out of my dirty panties. Pearl washed them—do you remember how she used to do that every day? My socks were curled down around the heels of my shoes. Brie, how could my mother not notice that I was cleaner when she picked me up than when she dropped me off? I guess she was drunk all the time,” she said, answering herself.
“I think Pearl was the only one who ever washed my hair. I loved the way I smelled after she got done with us. I killed a kid, Sela.”
Sela blinked. She fumbled in her pocket for another cigarette she didn’t want. It explained the troubled eyes, Brie’s thinness. All she could think of to say was, “Why didn’t you call me? I would have packed up and gone to California. I don’t know what good I would have been, but I would have tried to comfort you. I know you, Brie, you went through it alone, didn’t you? Oh, damn you, Brie—why? You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. I’m not even going to ask for details. I know you did what you had to do. I also know you were cleared. Am I right?”
Brie nodded. “At the time it seemed . . . I was outside of it for a while. Yes, I was cleared. I wanted to call. God, you have no idea how bad I wanted to call, but you all had your own problems. I did call Bode one night. His threat to come and get me was all I needed. Don’t take it personally, Sela. It was something I had to work through on my own. I’m okay, I really am. I’ll never forget it as long as I live, but I can live with it. I told Pearl when I got here. Telling Pearl something is like getting instant absolution. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Do I ever. C’mere,” Sela said, opening her arms to her friend.
“You aren’t half as good as Pearl, but you sure smell nice.” Brie giggled. “Sela, do you ever . . . what’s the word I’m looking for here? Do you ever marvel at the fact that our friendship has withstood the test of time? Twenty-five . . . or is it twenty-six years? That’s a quarter of a century. Is it because we shared so many yesterdays? Was it Pearl, or Callie and Bode? Was it because we were white trash and all the kids called us that so we couldn’t deny it? Callie certainly thought so. Said it in a lot of little ways without actually coming out with the words.”
“All of the above,” Sela said softly. “Things like that stick forever. I bet you right now, this very minute, if you and I walked down Main Street there would be someone who would remember us, and say, ‘There go those two girls—what’s their names?—oh yes, Sela and Brie. White trash.’ Then they’d cluck their tongues and shake their heads.”
“I’d never take that bet,” Brie vowed. “Bode rose above it. They don’t say those sorts of things about him.”
“They might not say anything, but they sure as hell think it—and you damn well know it. Oh, who gives a good rat’s ass.” Sela grinned.
“Now, that’s the Sela I know and love. Hey, look!”
Sela turned to stare in the direction Brie was pointing, down the long mossy drive under the oaks. A quarter of the way up she could see a large figure trundling slowly along. “Pearl!” she screamed. Her spike-heeled shoes flew in two different directions; her cigarette and purse were also discarded in haste. Brie watched as Sela’s dress hiked up to mid-thigh as she ran to meet Pearl.
“Welcome home, Sela,” the old housekeeper said, her eyes misty with tears.
2
It was like a thousand other mornings, this special breakfast time in Pearl’s kitchen. The daisy and assorted greenery Brie had picked earlier stood in the old milk bottle in the center of the table. For just a moment Brie felt overwhelmed by the warm, fragrant kitchen. Her eyes, full of adoration, traveled across to where Pearl was standing. If Pearl walked out the door, the square yellow-and-white room ceased to be anything but a room containing old, outdated appliances and shabby cabinets. When Pearl was in the kitchen, the plants seemed greener, healthier, the pots and pans glistened more, and one no longer saw the cracked, peeling paint. Everything Pearl touched took on a life of its own.
Pearl’s kitchen.
“Is Bode coming back for breakfast, Pearl?” Brie asked, sitting down across from Sela. She continued her scrutiny of the kitchen. The room of uncountable memories—the room where tears had been shed and solutions found to hundreds of childhood problems. A happy room of good smells and wonderful food. Pearl’s kitchen, with the green plants and herbs on the windowsill. Pearl’s rocking chair, Pearl’s knitting, Pearl’s scent. Pearl.
“Yes’m. Now, you sit there while I fix you breakfast like I used to. My boy will be chewing on the doorknob when he gets here. That boy does have an appetite. A good strong wind would blow you over, Miz Brie. You too, Miz Sela.”
“I’m in your hands, Pearl. You have four days to fatten me up. I was under the weather for a while.”
“I saved all your postcards, chile. I have them in my room. Does California really smell like orange blossoms?”
“Sometimes when you’re downwind. It’s heavenly.”
“I like lemon verbena myself,” Pearl said smartly as she prepared bowls and frying pans. She turned. “And what do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Bode Jessup?” She surrendered herself to Bode’s embrace the moment he walked through the door.
“I say I got here just in time. Your good food, and friends to share breakfast with. We are friends, aren’t we, girls?”
As children, the response to this ritual question had always been: “Forever and ever!” He was waiting, not with bated breath, but waiting nonetheless. Brie worked a smile onto her face for Pearl’s benefit. “If you say so, Bode,” she responded. She was aware of the strange look on Pearl’s face and the pink flush that warmed Bode’s neck. Sela remained quiet, her eyes puzzled.
“Flapjacks, scrambled eggs, and waffles,” Pearl announced, bustling over, “with my special syrup. And just because you’re here, Miz Brie, I’ll melt the butter.”
“What about me, Mama Pearl?” Bode asked lightly.
“Yeah, Pearl, what about him?” Brie asked tightly, but she relaxed immediately. This wasn’t going to get her anywhere. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was to leave the past behind. Baggage was not something she carried these days. “I’ll share,” she offered.
>
“Now that sounds like the old Brie,” the housekeeper said.
Old Brie, young Brie, new Brie—what did it matter? “Tell me, Pearl, how are the wedding plans going? Is everything taken care of? Callie must be delirious. How about you, Bode? Is the game plan still the same, that Callie is going to work with you after her honeymoon? Now I find that very interesting.”
“Everything is just fine. Miz Callie will be home tonight. Her wedding dress is hanging in her room if you want to sneak a peek at it. All the presents are at Mr. Wyn’s house in Beaufort,” Pearl muttered as she expertly flipped a flapjack.
“As kids you found everything interesting. It didn’t matter what it was, that was your standard comment,” Bode said coolly.
“That was because you made me feel stupid, and I didn’t know what else to say,” Brie explained. He hadn’t answered her question about Callie’s job, and she wondered why.
“Miz Sela asked me to fix cornpone and black-eyed peas. I said I would.”
“Ooohhh, I love that.” Brie smiled. “I can feel the weight going on just thinking about it. What’s for dinner, Pearl?”
“Ham, hickory-smoked, did it myself in the spring. New peas, those little ones you girls always said looked like emeralds, sweet potatoes, my special coleslaw, homemade bread with blackberry jam. I just made the jam two days ago for y’all. Pecan pie with homemade ice cream. Bode churned it last night.”
“Are you going to put all that sticky good stuff on the ham?”
Pearl turned to open the oven door. “It’s baking right now.”
“Will you be here, Bode?” Brie asked nonchalantly.
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