Biloxi Brides (Sugar and Grits)

by Martha Rogers

  Sue Ellen ran a comb through Fanny’s hair and ignored the comment. What was so important about a silly New Year’s Eve party? She’d lost track of the number of years spent welcoming the new year with television coverage of Times Square and a quart of strawberry ice cream.

  Even when Mama was living, the day hadn’t been an eventful one. After all, Daddy managed to miss every one. Leastwise, every one she remembered.

  “So I told him I was planning to go, too, so why didn’t we go together?” Fanny looked at Sue Ellen’s reflection and frowned. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  Sue Ellen grabbed the rat-tail comb and began sectioning off Fanny’s hair. “I’m sorry. Go ahead and tell me again, and I promise I’ll listen this time.”

  She smiled. “Honey, you don’t have to apologize. If I were a younger woman, he’d fluster me, too. As it is, I think I’ll stick with Gus.”

  “Gus? I mean, Grandpa?” Sue Ellen nearly dropped the clip. “You’re going to the party with Grandpa?”

  The older lady fairly beamed. “I sure am. He’s just the sweetest thing. Sweeter than sugar, that grandpa of yours.” Fanny made a face. “Speaking of sugar, have you heard the latest?”

  Sue Ellen shook her head and proceeded to prepare Fanny’s hair for the usual cut. As she grabbed the comb, she knew she’d have bruises in the places that had begun to ache.

  Nothing to do but ignore it. Sue Ellen had work to do, and if she closed up shop because of a couple of aches and pains, who would see to the beauty of the women of Calista?

  Perish the thought.

  She began to hum “Return to Sender,” her favorite mood lightener. When Fanny joined in, she switched to singing harmony through all verses—twice.

  “Well, I do love the King.” Sue Ellen chuckled. “Both of them, actually, although my Savior comes first above anyone and anything.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Fanny said. “Jesus, the King, and Elvis. You’re a hoot, Sue Ellen. Say, I heard from a little birdie that we’re about to get us a new restaurant in Calista.” Her eyes narrowed. “Can you feature it? Someone giving the Catfish House a run for its money? I heard it was that Faeoni Ledbetter behind it. You know she’s not from around here, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I believe I did.”

  In truth, Fanny had been waxing poetic about the poor Ledbetter woman ever since widowhood forced Faeoni to move in with the sheriff and his wife some six weeks ago. Sue Ellen’s guess was that Fanny suspected the sheriff’s sister-in-law just might steal Grandpa from her.

  Not that either woman had a chance at roping the old coot.

  Sue Ellen smiled at the thought of her grandfather living happily ever after with someone. Funny, but neither woman came to mind when she tried to place a bride next to him.

  She turned Fanny away from the mirror. “I guess it’s inevitable someone would bring another restaurant to town eventually. I doubt Jenny and her mama are worried. No one’s going to outcook the Catfish House.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose so, but I do have to admit I never expected something like this.” Fanny let out a long breath. “I had high hopes we would be welcoming more good folks into the community when I heard the name of the restaurant.”

  “Oh?” She heard the screen door slam and looked up to see that Bud had returned. “What’s it called?”

  “Welcome back, Bud,” Fanny said. “I was just telling Sue Ellen here about the new restaurant that’s opening in the old bakery. Maybe you’ve heard about it? It’s called Loaves and Fishes.”

  Bud avoided Sue Ellen’s stare to study the toes of his boots. “That’s a right fine name, Miss Fanny. Reckon they’re Christian folks?”

  “Well, of course you’d think that until you hear what kind of place it is.” Her bejeweled fists grasped the arms of the chair as if she were bracing herself. “Would you believe those crazy folks are building a place that sells fresh bread on one side of the building and sushi on the other?”

  “Sushi? So I can get my fish cooked with corn bread on one side of the street and raw with a wheat loaf on the other.” Bud’s smile was contagious. “Now how about that?”

  “I think that’s a lovely idea,” Sue Ellen added. “I do love fresh bread.”

  “Well, who doesn’t?” Fanny tapped the most prominent of her chins. “It’s the sushi I’m worried about.”

  Bud leaned against the shampoo bowl and shook his head. “Not much to worry about with sushi, Miss Fanny. It’s just prettied up raw fish on a plate. I can tell you it’s good for you, but I’m sure the Catfish House won’t go out of business over it.”

  “Well, that may be so, but I wonder if a petition might be in order. You think that would stop these people from invading the sanctity of the Catfish House? I would hate to think that the Ledbetter woman could just sashay in here and send Dottie Jean to the poorhouse.”

  “Now, Miss Fanny, I hardly think that’s the case here.” Sue Ellen fought to contain her giggle. “Maybe you ought to let Miss Faeoni know you’re worried. I’m sure she could ease your mind.”

  “Humph. Why in the world would I want to talk to her? Why, you know, I saw her at the Catfish House the other day, and it did not escape my attention that she was sitting just five tables over from my Gus.” Fanny’s eyes widened. “I mean, from your dear grandfather.”

  “Who’s talking about the Catfish House?” Dottie Jean walked in, and Sue Ellen set the scissors aside to hug her friend.

  “How was your honeymoon? Did you and Fletcher have fun?” Bud asked, then blushed.

  Chapter Four

  The proprietor of the Catfish House ignored Bud’s discomfort. “It’s good to be back, but we did have a lovely trip.” She turned to Bud. “What are you doing here, Deputy Briggs? You finally decide to let Sue Ellen do something with that hair of yours?”

  “No, ma’am,” was all he said.

  Dottie Jean shook her head. “Don’t tell me she’s talked you into one of those facials. I heard tell that Wendell came in here for a haircut and came out boasting his face was as smooth as a baby’s bottom after he gave in and let Sue Ellen put some goop on it.”

  Bud looked ready to bolt and run. “Actually, I was just passing by.”

  “Again,” Fanny added.

  “Yes, well,” he stammered, “I wondered if Sue Ellen here might need her ladder fixed.”

  “I appreciate that, Bud,” she said, “but I figured I’d let Grandpa handle it.”

  “No sense in that. I already hauled it behind the jailhouse.” He shuffled his feet and inched toward the door. “I just figured I’d tell you where it was in case you went looking for it.”

  He made another move for the door, and Dottie Jean caught his sleeve. “I’m glad to see all of you here,” she said. “I wanted to be sure that all my friends knew that Fletcher and I will be holding the annual New Year’s Eve party at our home instead of the restaurant.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” Fanny said. “Gus is taking me, you know.”

  All three sets of eyes turned toward the smiling woman in the chair. Suddenly the empty bride spot beside Grandpa was filled.

  Sue Ellen blinked to remove the image of Fanny in white with a veil.

  “Well, I declare—that’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Dottie Jean said. “I’ll look forward to seeing the both of you, hon. Do bring those wonderful shrimp tarts you make, will you?”

  While Fanny droned on about the recipe, Dottie Jean exchanged grins with Sue Ellen. “Bud,” Dottie Jean said when Fanny paused to take a breath, “you’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I generally volunteer to work that night. You know how the sheriff hates staying up late.”

  Sue Ellen watched Dottie Jean walk over to Bud and place her hand on his shoulder. “It’d mean a lot to Fletcher and me if you’d come. ’Sides, I happened to run into the sheriff on my way here. Looks like his wife’s having a get-together for the ladies in her bridge group. I’d b
e willing to bet the poor man would do just about anything to miss that hen party.”

  Bud seemed to be thinking it over a minute before he nodded. “I’ll go if Sue Ellen will.”

  “Well, of course she will. Why don’t you pick her up a quarter to seven? It’ll take a good ten minutes, maybe more, to get out to the house. You do know where it is, don’t you, Bud? If not, I could have Fletcher get you a set of directions.”

  Sue Ellen stood openmouthed. What was wrong with these two? Why, they were making plans for her right under her nose without even bothering to consult her.

  “No, that’s all right. I know where it is,” Bud said. “Would you like me to bring anything?”

  “I appreciate that,” Dottie Jean said, “but do you think maybe I could get back to you on that? I’m not sure, but I think Fletcher’s going to handle the menfolk. He’s set on grilling even though I told him he’d probably freeze.”

  “You never can tell.” Bud shook his head. “Around here it’s just as likely to be warm as it is to be cold.” He turned his attention to Sue Ellen. “Be sure and bring a sweater.”

  “Bring a sweater?” Sue Ellen nearly took off a hunk of Fanny’s bangs before she got control of the scissors and set them down. “Did either of you think I might have some say in this?”

  Dottie Jean reached over to give Sue Ellen a hug. “Not particularly, hon.” Dottie Jean pulled away to wink at her. “Don’t forget to bring that fudge you made for the last Bible study meeting. And if you remember, bring the recipe, too.”

  “Oh, I’d love a copy, too.” Fanny winked. “As I recall, it was quite tasty.”

  Sue Ellen held up both hands. “As a matter of fact, I—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Sue Ellen,” Dottie Jean said, “but I’ve got need of the deputy. Bud, I wonder if you might help me with something?” She pointed to the door. “I came all the way into town to fetch some things for the party, and now I’ve realized I should have brought Fletcher along to help me load them into the car. If you’re not too busy, would you mind?”

  Sue Ellen watched speechlessly as Dottie Jean led Bud toward the door. “I never said I’d go,” she said to Bud’s retreating back.

  “You never said you wouldn’t, either,” Fanny said.

  “Well, I’ll take care of that.” She went back to styling Fanny’s curls.

  “While you’re at it,” Fanny said, “why don’t you take care of telling Sassy Hatchett that we don’t need her meatballs this year? Do you realize that last year the woman actually mixed in that crazy bait mix of hers by accident? I swear I thought we’d all be sick, although that goofy fiancé of hers asked for seconds. There’s no accounting for love, I always say.”

  Once again the image of Fanny dressed in bridal gear loomed large. Or rather, extra large.

  “No, Miss Fanny, you’re right about that. There sure isn’t any accounting for love, is there?”

  When Dottie Jean called to say Bible study was canceled that night, Sue Ellen lost her chance to get a group opinion on what she should do. Of course, she already knew Dottie Jean and Sassy’s thoughts on the topic.

  She waited until her last customer of the day had left, then called Leota. She barely got the details of her dilemma out before Leota responded.

  “Go.”

  “But you don’t understand, Leota.”

  “I don’t need to understand. Just go. What do you have to lose?”

  ***

  Several times over the next two days, Sue Ellen thought about marching over to the sheriff’s office and telling the deputy she’d made other plans, but she never did. Yesterday, she blew her chance to say no when Bud called to ask if she might be ready a half hour early.

  Instead, Sue Ellen had not only said yes, but also carried on small talk about fishing and the Calista Cougar football team for a full five minutes before her next customer—Sassy, of all folks—came in.

  “Dottie Jean said I won a free cut and curl.” She handed Sue Ellen an envelope that read “CUT AND CURL COUPON IS INVALID IF ENVELOPE IS OPENED” in what looked like Dottie Jean’s handwriting.

  “All right, then,” Sue Ellen said. “Go ahead and put that cape on. I think I’ll have some peach tea. Want some?”

  She scurried to the kitchenette and tore open the envelope. “Fletcher and I are paying for the services, so give Sassy the works. Love, Dottie Jean.”

  Sue Ellen giggled as she returned with two glasses of sweet tea. “You got it wrong, Sassy,” she said. “You didn’t just win a hairdo. You got the works.”

  Once she finished with Sassy’s cut and curl, she decided to offer the woman a complimentary pedicure. What got into her, Sue Ellen didn’t know, but an hour later Sassy Hatchett left the Rhonda-Vous House of Beauty a changed woman.

  Well, at least her toes were changed.

  After Sassy left, Sue Ellen tried to call Bud back, but he didn’t answer. Before she knew it, she’d baked two pans of fudge—one with nuts and the other without—and had picked out an outfit that said “Well groomed but not interested.”

  Of course, by the time Bud arrived, she’d ditched the plain Jane outfit for one that made her feel a bit more festive, and she’d even taken the curling iron to her stick-straight hair. At the last minute, she added a few highlights around her face as well.

  There was no reason for a woman not to look her best even if she didn’t really want to be there. Besides, she was Dottie Jean’s friend, and as such, she needed to be present.

  “This has nothing to do with Bud Briggs,” she said to the image in the mirror. “I’m going to think of this as two friends sharing a ride. Next year, I’ll drive.”

  That idea made her feel better, so she decided to put a little more effort into her shoe and purse selection. When the choice was made, she hummed the teddy bear song while she hobbled into the kitchen to get the fudge ready to transport.

  Sue Ellen massaged her sore hip as she crimped the corners of the foil around the fudge with nuts and stacked it atop the other container. Although she’d never admit it to Bud, she had done herself a bit of bodily damage in her slide down the old ladder.

  With bruises in places that no one would see, Sue Ellen felt safe in pretending she was fine. Besides, it wasn’t as if she planned to do anything other than sit and count the hours until she could go home.

  When the squad car pulled up behind the Rhonda-Vous House of Beauty, Sue Ellen reached for her purse. She’d just about gathered her fudge and her wits when Bud knocked on the back door.

  Rather than flowers, he was carrying the mended ladder. “You want me to leave it out here, or should I bring it inside?”

  “Right there’s fine.” Sue Ellen grabbed her purse and the fudge with nuts. “How about you get the other one?” she said as she held the door open for Bud.

  He slipped past, leaving the scent of Ivory soap in his wake. “We’d better put these in the trunk,” he said. “We’re picking up another passenger.”

  Sue Ellen settled into the front seat and waited until Bud slipped behind the wheel. “Who else is riding with us?”

  “The pastor,” Bud said. “For some reason, Fletcher said I wasn’t to tell a soul.”

  The reason for the secrecy became clear when they arrived at Dottie Jean and Fletcher’s place.

  Chapter Five

  Sassy and Wendell are getting married? Does Sassy know this? She sure didn’t mention it when I was—”

  “Hush, Sue Ellen, or Sassy’ll hear you. She thinks she’s getting gussied up because she’s meeting Wendell’s long-lost cousin tonight. If we told her Wendell’s cousin is also the judge who signed the waiver on the waiting period for the marriage license, she’d probably have a hissy fit and run for the hills.”

  “I’ve seen Sassy run, sweetheart. You could catch her.” Fletcher sidled up to his bride and planted a kiss on her cheek that made Dottie Jean blush.

  “Behave yourself,” she said. “Can’t you see we’ve got company?”

  He sm
iled at Sue Ellen. “Happens every time I’m in a room with her. Would you forgive this old man’s silliness?”

  Sue Ellen chuckled despite the searing sense of loss she felt in the presence of this happy couple. “Well, of course. You can’t blame a man in love.” She looked past Fletcher to Dottie Jean. “What I don’t understand is how you got around the blood test requirement. Surely Sassy would have figured that one out.”

  Dottie Jean ducked her head. “Not if she thought she was giving blood for the troops.”

  Fletcher winked. “She felt so bad about telling that fib to Sassy that she gave Sassy that ‘gift certificate’ to your salon, then sent a sizable donation to the USO in Sassy’s honor. I believe she gave a donation to the church, too.”

  “Well,” Dottie Jean said, “I just couldn’t figure out another way around it. I wanted her to look her best for her—”

  “Anyone want to explain to me why I’m the only one who looks like a fool in this room?” Sassy’s voice beat her through the door. A moment later she barged into the kitchen and stopped short, her off-white beaded dress catching the light in a thousand tiny sparkles. “And while you’re at it, would you tell me how a body can walk in shoes like this?” She held up one foot to show off a strappy sandal with a kitten heel in a matching color. “It’s bad enough you and Leota made me get gussied up for those weddings of yours, Dottie Jean. But this is just too much.”

  “Oh, those shoes are adorable,” Sue Ellen said. “Did you get them here in town?”

  “Who knows what torture chamber they came from? Dottie Jean loaned them to me.”

  “Something borrowed,” Dottie Jean whispered to Sue Ellen, who nodded.

  Ever the gentleman, Fletcher stepped forward to take Sassy’s hand. “The only fool in this room is me. I do believe I’ve married the wrong woman. You look absolutely lovely.”

  “Oh, hush that fool talk, Fletcher Cameron. There’s not a person in Calista who doesn’t know you haven’t spared another woman so much as a glance since you caught sight of Dottie Jean.”