Yesterday

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Yesterday Page 13

by Fern Michaels


  “It’s funny you should say that, Judge. Bode said the same thing about you.”

  “He did, did he?” The Judge preened himself.

  “More than once.”

  “Good man, none finer.” The Judge continued to look pleased.

  “Judge,” Wyn said, closing the door behind Kallum, “Dora just took off her sweater.”

  “Lord!” he exploded. “What’s my wife doing?”

  “Holding it for her.” Kallum chuckled.

  “Y’all don’t need me anymore, do you?”

  “No. We’ve got it covered, Judge,” Kallum said.

  “What do you have covered?” Callie inquired.

  “This,” Wyn said, holding out a beige folder with a tab on the end that said CALLIE in capital letters. “It’s half of everything I own. There’s a copy of my will, my insurance policies. As of tomorrow, Calliope Archer will be my legal heir. Kallum will put your name back on your deed tomorrow. I wanted it all signed today, but Kallum said it has to be done when you’re Mrs. Archer. I did my best to finish it off today, but two of the deeds didn’t arrive. They’re being messengered to the house in Beaufort. I’ll look them over this evening and Kallum will bring them by tomorrow so you can sign them as soon as the wedding is over, and before we go off on our honeymoon. We’ll go into the vestibule before we have the pictures taken. Is that okay with you, darling?”

  “Yes, Wyn, but we can always do it after we get back from our honeymoon.”

  “That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t listen. Did you ever in your life see a man so eager to share his holdings? I say we make a toast to yours and Wyn’s long and happy lives,” Kallum said.

  “Hear! Hear!” Wyn cried, holding out his glass. Kallum poured lightly until Wyn said, “Tilt the bottle, Kal. If I’m going to drink to a long and happy life I want to taste it, not smell it.”

  Kallum frowned, but did as instructed. Wyn took his seat. Callie sipped. Kallum just held his glass to his lips, Callie noticed.

  “Guess I’ll be driving to the church,” Callie said.

  “Looks that way.” Wyn grinned. “Now, let’s go and enjoy our party. Miss Nela said she personally made a pot of crab stew just for me, with thirteen ounces of bourbon. She soaked the crackers in another four ounces for two whole days and then let them dry in the sun.”

  “Forget driving. You’ll be asleep in Miss Nela’s spare room for two days if you eat that mess,” Kallum grumbled. “You are the only person besides Miss Nela who can abide that stuff.”

  “It grows hair on your chest.” Wyn laughed. “Come along, darling, we need to circulate, and then we’ll eat.”

  Outside the Judge’s office, the house was full of life. Music was being played, but the babble of voices was drowning out the lyrics of Waylan Jennings, the only artist the Judge listened to; Miss Nela, too, although she professed to like Willie Nelson and had a secret stash of his recordings in her sewing room.

  “You head toward the sunroom, Wyn, and I’ll take the front. I’ll meet you in the dining room in let’s say, forty minutes,” Callie said.

  “I haven’t seen Brie or Sela,” Kallum remarked, following Callie to the huge living room.

  “They’ll be here. They promised,” Callie said tightly.

  “Is everything all right, Callie?”

  Where are my friends? “Why do you ask?” she said, staring straight ahead.

  “You seem on edge. There’s no laughter in your eyes. Oh, you smile, but that smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Wyn seems off-track, too. Is this what weddings do to people? If so, I’m going to remain a bachelor. By the way, how is it you were a no-show at Bode’s luncheon?”

  “Damn it, Kallum, I wasn’t invited. Miss Nela said the Judge invited Wyn, and he was to tell me. Well, he didn’t. And I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s all right with you.”

  Kallum shrugged. “Look, there’s Brie and Sela now. Oh my, is that Pearl?”

  “Yes, that’s Pearl, and Kallum, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t be such a damn snob. You remind me of Wyn sometimes. Another thing: Brie feels the same way I do about Pearl, so unless your attitude changes within minutes, I’m going to whisper in her ear.”

  “Jesus, Callie, I didn’t mean anything. I don’t feel any particular way.”

  “Don’t you ever talk about Pearl, not ever again. To me, Pearl is . . . I’d take her over every single person in this room. Do you hear me?” Her voice stopped just short of being shrill.

  “Even Wyn?”

  “Yes, even Wyn,” Callie said, stalking her way to the center of the room, where Sela, Brie, and Pearl were being welcomed by Miss Nela. She was in time to hear her hostess say, “We can get on with the party now, but you’ve missed all the action. Dora took off her shoes, her sweater, and her wig, and is now sleeping on the back porch.”

  “Why don’t we all go outside and have a cigarette?” Callie suggested through clenched teeth.

  “Good idea,” Brie said.

  “The best,” Sela echoed.

  “I told you girls to stop smoking. You promised,” Pearl said.

  “It’s my New Year’s resolution,” Brie said.

  “I can’t quit, it’s my security blanket,” Sela said, groaning.

  “I don’t want to quit,” Callie said defiantly.

  Outside in the garden, smoking cigarettes none of them wanted, Callie said, “Somebody tell me what’s going on. Now!”

  They told her. All of them had the grace to look ashamed.

  “I don’t believe this. How could you do this to me? Today of all days.”

  “Believe it or not, we thought we were helping. At least, I did. Bode made me so damn mad. He gives Pearl this absolutely gorgeous dress and then takes off and doesn’t wait to see her in it. It wasn’t right. I didn’t like him walking out on you like that either. So, I presumed on our friendship and took matters into my own hands,” Brie explained. “At least he got to see Pearl. Then he hitchhiked back to the airport.”

  “I tried to trick him into saying he loved you, but he cut me down to size, and I deserved it,” Sela said. “You can rest easy; he doesn’t love you.”

  “I could have told you that,” Callie snorted. “There’s only room for two things to love in Bode’s life—Mama Pearl and the law.”

  “He made that clear,” Brie said. “Guess Wyn is upset that the rehearsal had to be rescheduled.”

  “He took it well,” Callie said quietly. “Let’s get to the drinking bit.”

  “My fault. I asked Pearl for some of Lazarus’s wine and before we knew it we were snookered. It’s all my fault,” Sela said.

  “Are you all right, Pearl?” Callie asked.

  “I’m jest fine, Miz Callie. I think it’s best if we forget what happened and don’t speak about it again. It pains me to see you unhappy. These people made this fine party, and we spoiled it for you. I’m real sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Sela mumbled.

  “Me too,” Brie said.

  “Then do you think we can all go inside and smile and pretend we’re having a good time?” Callie said tartly.

  “I’m real good at that,” Sela offered.

  “I hate a phony,” Brie said, stomping ahead of the others.

  “I hate everything and everyone,” Callie muttered under her breath.

  “Amen,” Pearl groaned, her black laced shoes rubbing against her heels and toes. “Amen.”

  Callie waved her friends ahead. She drew back, her hand on Pearl’s arm. She guided her deeper into the garden, where the scent of the flowers and the lush pines calmed her jangling nerves.

  “Pearl, I need to ask you something. I don’t want to ask, but I have to, for my own peace of mind. Today . . . well, today is almost over and tomorrow will be here before I know it. I wanted to talk to you, to ask you so many things, but you know that look you give me from time to time when I step over into what you call your personal business. Pearl, I need to step over that line right now.”

&n
bsp; “Curiosity always kills the cat—you know that, Miz Callie.” Pearl turned away to pluck at a blossom on the crepe myrtle tree. If she’d looked at that moment she would have seen the quiet desperation in Callie’s eyes. When she did turn, she held out the bloom and smiled. “I always said you were prettier than these blossoms, Miz Callie.”

  “Yes, Pearl, you always said that. I can’t let you put me off anymore. Do you like Wyn? I want an answer, Pearl, and I also want to know why you let Sela and Brie talk you into opening that wine Lazarus gave you.”

  “None of this is important, Miz Callie. You don’t need to be talking and thinking about such things today. Or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Unless you have a mind to call off your wedding.”

  “There you go again. I’m not leaving this garden until you give me straight-out answers. I mean it, Pearl.” The blossom in her hands was a mangled mess. She dropped it to the ground and picked another.

  Pearl slapped it out of her hand. “Mr. Wyn is a fine man. Everyone says so. You say so. You must believe it or you wouldn’t be marrying him. It don’t make no never mind what I think of Mr. Wyn.”

  “Damn you, Pearl, that’s not what I asked you. Do you like him?” She snapped off a whole branch from the crepe myrtle and waved it crazily in every direction. The desperation was still in her eyes. Pearl saw it this time. Her shoulders slumped.

  “No. No, I don’t,” Pearl murmured.

  “Now what was so hard about that?” Callie said. “Am I breaking your heart, Pearl?”

  “I should be fanning your bottom for making me puddle up like this,” Pearl said, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “You have secrets, Pearl, I know you do. I always shared mine with you, but you never shared yours with me. Why? I’m stepping over your line—and you know what, Pearl? I don’t care. I’m all grown-up now.” She wiped at her own eyes with a tissue from her pocket, then handed it to Pearl. Her foot inched out, gouging a deep line separating her from Pearl. “You see this line? Well, this is what I think of it.” The white-linen shoe dug deeper and then scuffed at the line. Then she dropped to her knees and dug at the line.

  Pearl raised her eyes, and said, “Lord, this chile be crazy. She don’t know what she’s doing. Be kind to her.” She reached down to grasp Callie under the arms and pulled her behind the crepe myrtle that was hundreds of years old.

  “Look at you! You’re a fine mess. You’re shaming me, Miz Callie. I spent hours ironing that linen dress. Now you have grass stains all over it, and them shoes is ruined. All them fancy people in there are going to say I don’t take care of you right.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what those people in there think. I care what you think! Are you going to slap me now for saying dirty words?” Callie mumbled, burrowing against Pearl’s chest.

  “I should. Maybe later I will. Or maybe I’ll just pretend you didn’t say what you said. That Miz Sela shouldn’t be teaching you such things.”

  “Pearl, don’t blame Sela. Bode says it all the time. Well, he says it sometimes. Under his breath, not out loud,” she said when she saw the outrage in Pearl’s face. “I’m lying; Bode never says it. Not ever. Wyn says it. So does Kallum. I’m sorry,” Callie wailed. “Don’t be ashamed of me, Pearl. Please.”

  Pearl led Callie deeper into the garden. “I think it’s time for you to tell me what’s wrong, Miz Callie.”

  “I want to kill Bode. I want to scratch his eyes out. I want to curse at him, kick him in the groin. I want to pound him until he squeals for mercy. I don’t want to get married. I love Wyn, but I don’t . . . I’m not ready . . . I can’t back out, Pearl, I gave him our house! I guess the Judge could get it back for me. I do sort of love him. He’s dear. He promised me everything under the sun. He’ll do anything for me, but he won’t accept Bode as my friend, and he won’t give up racing those dogs. If he really loved me, he’d do that. He would, wouldn’t he, Pearl?”

  “I can’t be answering something so important, Miz Callie.”

  “Tell me, Pearl. I want to hear you say it out loud.”

  “Don’t you be putting words in my mouth, young lady. And I’m not funnin’ with you either. I want to go home.”

  “Well, I can top that. I want to go home, too.”

  “Which home?” Pearl said.

  “Our home.”

  The two women stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Love and devotion was mirrored there for them both to see. Callie smiled happily. Pearl grinned from ear to ear.

  “I guess we can scrape together enough money to pay Wyn rent until the Judge rescinds the deed of trust. Wyn won’t make things difficult. What is going to be difficult is telling him the wedding is off. God, Pearl, I feel like the weight of the entire universe has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel like dancing a jig. Let’s dance, Pearl,” Callie said, pulling at her dress. She yanked at her panty hose and had them off in the time it took Pearl to blink. Pearl hooked her fingers in her knee-highs as the ugly black shoes flew in separate directions. Holding hands, the two women laughed as they danced deeper and deeper into the garden.

  “I wish Lazarus could see us,” Callie chortled. “If Bode was here, you know what he’d say, Pearl?”

  “No, what would my boy say?”

  “He’d say it’s about time I got my shit in one sock. That’s not really a bad thing to say, Pearl. It’s just a saying. Everyone says it. Okay, it’s not nice. I lied again: Bode wouldn’t say that at all. What he’d say is, it’s about time I came to my senses. Yes, that’s what he’d say!”

  “No, Miz Callie, Bode would say just what you said. Don’t you go trying to make my boy look better than he is. Lord, forgive me for saying such things.”

  Callie hooted with breathless laughter as she dropped to the ground, Pearl next to her.

  “It’s just you and me, Pearl. I’ll get an extra job. Maybe we can do bits and pieces on the old house. I have my whole life to redo it. I’m a good lawyer, Pearl. I can earn us a living, I know I can. We’ll make a budget and really stick to it. If the house falls down around us, we’ll move into an apartment in town. I’ll make it work, Pearl, I really will. Listen, when we write to Bode, I’ll tell him he has to share in the expenses. It’s his home, too. He’ll do it. He will, won’t he, Pearl?”

  “Yes, my boy will do it. Bode’s a good soul.”

  “I feel wonderful, Pearl. How about you?” Pearl nodded. “Okay, here’s the deal. You know, everything happens for a reason. Y’all being late, canceling the rehearsal—it was meant to be. I’m going to have Sela and Brie drive you home. Not a word to them. I’ll tell them myself when I get there. Stall them as long as you can. Don’t let them leave for the church. I’m going to tell Wyn when we leave here. He . . . he said he has to deliver some keys to a family in Walterboro. We were going to do that before we headed for church. I’ll tell him on the way and he can drop me off at home. I can do it, Pearl. Why did you open Lazarus’s wine? Is there any left?”

  “It seemed like I was supposed to do it. Miz Sela said to open it. I can’t deny you girls anything you ask of me. The wine isn’t important.”

  “It is so. Sela knew that, so did Brie. Lazarus gave you that wine so . . . you know.”

  “Well, I ain’t about to die, so don’t you be worrying about drinking at my funeral. The old fool give me wine I wasn’t supposed to drink. What kind of gift is that? Wine goes sour like vinegar if you keep it too long. There’s enough left for you to drink when I go to my Maker.”

  “But it’s been opened. It will go bad. It doesn’t matter—I’ll drink it anyway. Is there enough for Bode, too?”

  “There’s enough, and I’m tired of talking about dying.”

  “Pearl, in the morning we are going to call Bode. Do you think he’ll say I’m doing the right thing?” Callie sounded anxious.

  “Chile, Bode will tell you what he thinks. Bode has never told a lie. Leastways, I don’t think he has. You need to stop stretching the truth or the Lord will fork your t
ongue and stick it between those pretty teeth of yours. You mind me, Miz Callie?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Callie said, her eyes sparkling for the first time in many months.

  “You go along now and fetch Miz Sela and Miz Brie. I need to put on my shoes.”

  “I’ll help you. Lord, Pearl, look at those blisters. You can’t put those shoes back on.”

  “Can and will. I won’t be shaming you, Miz Callie.”

  “Damn it, Pearl, you could never, ever shame me. Hell, I’ll walk barefoot right alongside of you. You are not wearing those shoes. Your blisters have blisters. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I’m saying it now. I’m putting on these shoes and I’m walking out to Miz Sela’s car and when I’m inside I’ll take them off. You need to be thinkin’ about those grass stains and your own shoes,” Pearl snapped.

  And that was the end of that.

  “Jesus,” Sela said on seeing Callie. “What happened to you?”

  “Wyn was looking for you,” Brie said. “He said you guys are leaving early—something about dropping off some keys before the rehearsal. You are kind of messy, Callie.”

  “I slipped on the grass. Pearl and I were out behind the crepe myrtles. I went down, but I kind of skidded. Listen, will you drive Pearl home? And stay there, okay?”

  “Stay there as in stay there and don’t go to the rehearsal?” Sela asked, and Callie nodded.

  “Is Pearl all right?” Brie was worried.

  “No, she’s not all right. You should see her feet—she has blisters all over them. At the house she has some kind of concoction she plasters over everything. Do it for her before her feet get infected, will you? Wait on her, and I swear to God I’ll kill the both of you if you drink any more of Lazarus’s wine. You knew that bottle was for after . . . after Pearl’s funeral. How could you?”

  “God, Brie, I forgot about that,” Sela said, guilt-stricken. “She said it was okay. It’s my fault, I take the blame. Poor Pearl. I’ll try and make it right, I swear I will.”

 

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