Chin Up, Honey

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  “You sure?” What he had really wanted had happened. He had trouble bringing himself around to it.

  “Yes…go on, and I’ll tell you all about it as we drive. We don’t want to be late.”

  She dug into her purse for her sunglasses, which required pulling out half the things to find them at the bottom. Then she checked her image in her compact mirror. Being out in the breeze had caused her eyes to water, plus she felt suddenly a little teary about Gracie coming to see her.

  That Gracie would confide in her caused her heart to swell and run over. She really was gaining a daughter. Her mind went ahead imagining it—shopping with Gracie, discussing home decoration, tending the children that would come, and long, quiet times over tea and coffee.

  John Cole brought her out of this by asking, “So what did Gracie want?”

  “Well…” She dropped the compact back into her purse. “…it seems that Sylvia has kept secret all these years that Gracie’s father is part black, and now she has told her.”

  John Cole looked at her with both eyebrows raised high.

  She said, “I know. It sounds strange. I really can’t imagine how Sylvia thinks. And of course Gracie is thrown every which way. She thinks her mother is still trying to break her and Johnny up. She didn’t even quite believe it at first, but she questioned her mother a little bit and found her father on the Internet—he’s an artist over in Memphis.

  “You know, I think we might have been right past his studio when we were over there for that convenience-store convention two years ago. I seem to recall his name and this gallery of paintings that I really liked. Just wonderful bright colors…very folky kind of stuff. It was a little too expensive for us, though.

  “Well, anyway, I think one thing that really worried Gracie was our reaction to all of it.”

  “What did you tell her?” said John Cole, wondering what his own reaction was.

  “I told her about my daddy.”

  John Cole looked a little perplexed. “What about your father?”

  “You know, how my daddy went off all the time until he finally never came back, and how Mama cut him right out of the pictures and never spoke of him again.”

  “Ah.”

  “Then I just told Gracie that Johnny loves her and we do, too. And she has seen our side of the family.”

  She paused, and John Cole glanced over at her, wondering where this statement was going.

  “I told her that if she is willin’ to come into our family, we are thrilled. Although I did point out, since she has seen the Berrys, she should know that there are some in the family who might have somethin’ to say about her daddy. You know that is true,” she added, to ward off his protests, although he didn’t say anything.

  “But they are goin’ to talk no matter what. They’ll have a great deal to say about Gracie being from up north, and bein’ Catholic and from a well-to-do family and who knows what all. The thing is, they will never say it to her face. No one ever said to my face, ‘Mama Berry didn’t like you, because you are not good enough for her son and come from back east.’ They’ll just talk behind her back and among themselves, and she won’t ever have to be around them much, anyway.”

  She saw his eyes slide over to her, but he wisely remained quiet.

  “I told her that besides all that, she is not marryin’ any of them, or us, either. She is marryin’ Johnny. She hasn’t told him anything. She says she doesn’t think it will matter to Johnny, but she has not shared with him this really big upset in her life. That right there shows her attitude, and a lot about need in their relationship.

  “I told her not to start out this way. I told her to get in the habit of talking honestly about every worry, and joy, too. Not to get started in the way you and I have done—not talking about important things. I wish someone would have said that to me, when we were first married. But there wasn’t anyone to tell me about havin’ a good relationship, because no one in my family ever had one…just like poor Gracie. If you don’t have anyone who can show you how to have a good marriage, then you just have to learn everything the hard way.”

  She went on, then, about how no one in John Cole’s family ever knew how to relate, either.

  John Cole sat there nodding in appropriate places. When it seemed that she was done, he said, “You told her a lot in a short time.”

  “Well, I talked fast. I didn’t want to make us late for such an important event as breakin’ ground for your new store…but I think we are.”

  She was looking ahead out the windshield and saw a number of cars parked at the edge of the future site of the Berry Truck Stop No, 2, and people milling around.

  “Our new store,” John Cole said.

  Emma was brought up short by his correction. She was about to comment on it when she saw Johnny striding toward them. “You didn’t tell me Johnny was goin’ to be here.”

  “I didn’t think of it,” John Cole said, bringing the car to a stop. Then, in answer to her look, “I really didn’t know. I couldn’t reach him, so I just left a message.”

  Johnny hugged each of them, then said, “If it’s okay, I’ve got to cut out. Gracie called a few minutes ago, and I told her I’d meet her. She said it’s important.” He looked at Emma. “Her mom didn’t leave yesterday. She’s still at Gracie’s apartment and won’t leave until Gracie comes to talk to her.” Then to his father, “But I can stay, if you need me here.”

  Instantly, Emma said, “Gracie is more important, isn’t she, John Cole?”

  John Cole agreed. “Go on…and thanks for holdin’ the fort until we got here.”

  “Oh, honey, wait.” Emma gave him a firm hug. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” he tossed back as he strode away.

  Emma stood there watching after him, her boy now grown into a man.

  “Emma.”

  “Yes…I’m coming. Oh, my hat!”

  She ran back to the car, got the hat and put it on her head, and held it there as she ran back to John Cole, who had waited for her. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

  Determined, Emma held her hat on throughout the entire time that she was introduced and shaking hands, and while the brief and informal ceremony of ground-breaking took place. She was able to let go of it for several minutes when the photographer took her and John Cole’s picture with their hands on the shovel. She requested that the photographer take several shots. To her delight, the young man had a computer and printer set up in the back of his little minivan and gave them prints before he left.

  Emma looked at their image captured together on the glossy paper. She was struck deep in her heart. She saw fresh in memory the early snapshots of them and the contrast to this one. She was at once amazed at how old they looked, proud of how good they still looked, and misty-eyed at the fact of how it had come round again to just the two of them.

  And she didn’t know how it had happened, but they had somehow found their way back to each other. It was as if they had each been about to blow away but had reached out and caught each other just in time. And had held on.

  “We are a good-looking couple,” she told John Cole.

  “Pretty good,” he agreed, giving the photographs a quick glance before asking, “Where do you want to eat?”

  She named an expensive steak restaurant, and he made a face.

  She asked him why had he asked her, if he didn’t really want to know what she wanted. He said he didn’t know what she wanted before he asked her. She asked him where he wanted to eat. He said he didn’t really care, except for the steak restaurant. She named a hamburger place. He said he thought he wanted more than just hamburgers, since they were dressed up. To this she pointed out that he was being totally illogical and highly annoying, and she was making no more suggestions.

  They threw this discussion back and forth, as John Cole drove directly to the steak restaurant Emma had specified, where he appeared to thoroughly enjoy an enormous steak dinner and acted like he had been the one to
choose the restaurant all along.

  The next morning at dawn, trying to beat the August heat, the work crew arrived in the backyard. Emma and John Cole both happened to be in the kitchen. Emma was already at work on final preparations for the barbeque, as well as listing a couple more people to receive wedding invitations. John Cole was pouring his coffee and preparing to oversee the work crew before heading off to the Berry Corp. offices.

  “It’s all worth it,” Emma said, gazing out the window and running her eyes over their new backyard, all bathed in the first golden glow of a new day. It did look very much like a magazine picture. Maybe she could get it into Southern Living. Maybe that would put cotton in Sylvia’s mouth. Oh, dear, sorry.

  “It’s pretty nice,” John Cole admitted, standing just behind her shoulder. “And we’re gonna make it with a bit of time to spare.”

  Then, from Emma, “We should add a water feature.”

  John Cole looked at her in horror. “A water feature?”

  She nodded and explained just where she would like it. “We have time before the barbeque.”

  “There is already a water feature,” John Cole pointed out. “It’s big, and everything is built around it.”

  She had known he would not go for the idea, but if she gave him time to think about it…

  The phone rang. Emma sprinted for it, her mind instantly going to Johnny.

  It was him. “Hello, sweetheart. You’re up early.” She bit back asking what was wrong. There was no need to anticipate trouble. But she did. And John Cole stood there looking at her. “Your father and I were just watchin’ the crew out back. They’re finishing up today. It is goin’ to be so lovely for the bridal-shower barbeque.”

  “Well, Mom, that’s why I called.”

  She closed her eyes. “Oh, it is?” Please don’t let him say the wedding is off.

  “Gracie and I have decided to go ahead and get married today.”

  “Oh?” Her eyes opened wide. She looked at John Cole, who stepped closer.

  “I know how much you wanted the weddin’, Mama, but we don’t want to wait. We just want to get on with it before Gracie’s mother…well, we just want to go ahead and get married. I’m sorry.”

  It took her several seconds, but then she lifted her chin and said, “There is no need for an apology, honey. I understand…and I’m so happy for you both. For all of us.”

  Then, “Could your father and I still come and be there? We’d just like to see, and we won’t make a big production. I can bring—”

  “Mom…”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “We’re on our way to Dallas right now.”

  “Oh.” She felt suddenly quite old.

  She stared at John Cole, at the bit of gray at his temples, while Johnny’s voice in her ear was saying, “We’ve got a suite for tonight at the Ritz in Dallas. I don’t know exactly what we’re goin’ to do after that, but we won’t be back until Sunday. Is Dad still there? Can I talk to him?”

  “Oh, yes. Here he is.”

  She handed the phone to John Cole and moved to look out the window at the magazine picture of a backyard and the men working there. The water in the pool sparkled in the now-bright sunlight. She noted that the young man, Sammy, was out there, and thought she had better get together a basket of cookies and drinks. She heard John Cole telling Johnny that he would handle everything for him for the next few days.

  Then John Cole said, “Congratulations, son. Yes, she’s still here…Emma…” He passed the phone back to her.

  “Emma…” It was Gracie on the line. “…I’m awfully sorry. I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble with all the plans for the wedding, and spent so much money. I thought we could still have the barbeque, if you want to. Only now it would just be a celebration for us being married.”

  “That is a lovely idea. And don’t you worry at all about any of it. You and Johnny just go on…and have someone take pictures. Okay? Maybe you could get one of those throwaway cameras. Just ask someone to take your picture. People don’t mind.”

  “Oh, yes—we didn’t bring a camera. We’ll try.”

  Emma thought Gracie might be crying. “I’m so very happy for both of you. I love you.”

  Johnny got on the phone again and very quickly said, “I love you, Mama.”

  “Me, too, you sweetheart.”

  She could not breathe. She ended the call but held on to the phone for several seconds before turning to John Cole.

  “Well, they called before they got married. I think they just needed our encouragement.” She grabbed a rag and went to wiping the kitchen counter.

  “They’ll always need you, Emma.” He was regarding her as if ready to reach over and hold her head on.

  She gave him a smile and took up the pot to pour him more coffee. The next second, she reached for the phone again and called information for the number of the Ritz in Dallas. She had a large bouquet sent to the room of Mr. and Mrs. John Ray Berry.

  John Cole was still hovering in a worried manner. She told him, “Shoo…”

  She waited until the door closed behind him before she let herself cry.

  It was really silly, but she felt the great need to call her mother. She waited until mid-morning, to make sure her mother would be up and around.

  “Johnny and Gracie are drivin’ down to Texas to elope,” she said, and went on to tell everything that had happened, about Gracie’s father and the argument with Sylvia that led up to it all.

  Her mother amazed her by saying, “I knew that about Gracie’s father.”

  “You did?”

  “Oh, yes. Sylvia acted strange about it from the beginnin’. I did some investigating on my genealogy site online, and I found Paul Mercier.”

  “And you didn’t say anything?”

  “Well, a writer does not tell everything she knows,” her mother said. “We all have secrets…although it seems with the Internet they are not nearly as easy to keep anymore. Remember your Aunt Clemmy who ran off with the neighbor next door and never talked to anyone in the family again? Well, I found her in Sarasota. She can stay there, too.

  “Besides, I’ve been busy….” She turned the conversation to her own news, which was having sold yet another article to the North Carolina state magazine. Word had gotten around her circle of writing friends about her sales to such prestigious publications, and she had received a call from her arch rival Pamela Markham, who wanted to confirm the news.

  “She didn’t believe it, and I got to tell her it was true,” said Emma’s mother with great delight. “Her writers group had appointed her to call and ask me to come speak at their conference in the spring. She can hardly stand it!”

  She was so gleeful that she went on to tell the news twice.

  Finally, when Emma managed to get a word in to excuse herself from the conversation, she surprised herself by asking, “Mama…what did Daddy die of?”

  “Don’t ask. You don’t want to know, and I don’t care.”

  Emma hung up the phone and thought that she knew exactly how Gracie felt.

  John Cole spent only an hour at the office, then came home for the rest of the day and supervised the finishing of the backyard. He wanted to be around in case Emma might need him. He didn’t know what he would do, but he just wanted to be there. She did not appear to be much herself. She hardly said anything, except after each of Johnny’s phone calls.

  Johnny called again right after he and Gracie had gotten married, and then after they had gotten to their hotel and seen the f lowers Emma had sent.

  Emma reported these calls to John Cole and said, “I think they wish we had been with them.”

  John Cole said, “I’m sure they do. They’ll be home before long.”

  She just looked at him and went back into the house. When he went to check on her an hour later, she was working on a card to send out to everyone, announcing the elopement and canceling the wedding. It was a really cute card, and he raved over it. She didn’t say much to that eith
er, though.

  At sunset, when he came out of the shower, he couldn’t find her in the house. He had a moment of feeling abandoned—his son had taken off, and now he couldn’t find his wife. He realized that he had held for a long time in the back of his mind the fear that when Johnny left them, Emma would go, too.

  He found Emma sitting on the back steps, watching the sun go down and gazing out at the backyard. He joined her.

  “It really is beautiful, John Cole. Thank you. It’ll make a lovely place for a celebration party.”

  John Cole said, “I’ve been thinkin’ about that water feature. I figured out a way to—”

  “Oh, no. We don’t need it.”

  “Maybe not need it, but it would be really pretty over there. And I can get it in without too much digging. We can connect the line right over there.”

  “No…this is enough.”

  He fell silent. He watched her face. He felt inadequate to know what to do.

  They sat there some minutes, and then Emma said, “You know, I can’t remember our wedding.”

  Her eyes came round to his. They were wet with tears.

  “I guess I was just so nervous that I went right through it in some sort of shocked state. We’ve got pictures to show me what happened, but I don’t remember it, John Cole. Not any part. I’ve tried over the years to remember, and today I tried all day long, but I can’t. I just so wanted Johnny’s wedding to remember.”

  He reached around her and brought her into his shoulder, where she cried.

  “Well then,” he said, a great idea stealing over him as he saw the lights coming on in the pool, “we’ll just have to get married all over again.”

  She looked up at him.

  “You mean renew our vows?”

  “Sure. We’ve got everything for a weddin’. We’re having the big barbeque. You and me will just get married again, and you’ll have that to remember.”

  A look came over her face, and he wondered what he had done wrong. She said, “John Cole…how many times did I ask you to renew our vows with me, and you said you were not goin’ to do it?”